#versailles style decor

[queers-gambit]

My Date With the President's Daughter

part one: Blue Bunny

prompt: your father finds out about Tangerine in the worst way during a charity gala before marauders try to rob it.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 6.3k+

note: a little Disney Channel throwback in the title anyone?

warnings: use of Irish names that DO NOT dictate race, more Mafia antics, short smut / interrupted smut (you'll see), NSFW i think, mature content, cursing, chaos and violence, weapons: guns and knives, blood. dead bodies, reader's a Daddy's Girl, abrupt ending, slight angst, more hurt and comfort i guess, author still has no idea what this plot is - revoke her internet access.

The theme of the gala that night was inspired by the Palace of Versailles; regal, royal, glittering and so very, very gold. It was held at one of the most expensive hotels in the city, the entire building rented out in preparation with three different caterers and expensive bottles of alcohol being served. The gala was THE place to be - most people vying for an invitation, everyone who was anyone in attendance; dripping in designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry that sparkled in candlelight.

Every single year for the past 25 years, your legendary father hosted a large charity event that your mother was project manager of - meaning she chose the themes, decor, and the invite list. Only elite persons (both in the public and private eye) with deep pockets were invited, knowing they'd cut a large check if they wanted your father to stay out of their business territories. So, in honor of the richer-than-rich attendees, your mother used grand and golden decorations; creating a tastefully regal atmosphere for those who didn't actually have a drop of royal blood in their veins.

You father, Fallon, meaning "leader" in the ancient Celtic language, looked as handsome and dapper as ever; his tux dry cleaned, steamed, ironed, and tailored, paired with clean and shining dress shoes that had a bright red sole. His hair was slicked back, tattoos on his neck visible from the swept-back style.

Your mother, Maeve, whose name meant "she who rules", looked like she had just walked off a runway. Her dress hugged her slender and impressive figure, the material shimmering under the soft lighting. Her heels were high, hair pinned off her neck to show off bright diamond earrings that matched the thin chain of glittering gems around her collarbones, the sparkling tennis bracelet, and the absurdly large wedding ring on her finger. Her face was lightly painted with make-up, always a woman who didn't need much - if any at all. You prayed to age as gracefully as she.

Your brother, Oisín - pronounced [Oh - Sheen] - meant "little deer"; a cheeky but shy lad at the ripe age of 10. He wore a matching tux as your father, and had an emerald broach pinned on his lapel to indicate he belonged to your family. His au pair was supposed to be watching him so you could mingle with donors, but Oisín didn't stray from your side; a wee hand holding the material of your expensive dress on your hip to keep himself from getting lost.

The gala was crowded. Large event room stifling, requiring the air be turned on. Perfume assaulting the senses in a clash of scents.

The trademark "cha-ching" sound effect echoed in your mind as you shmoozed a few guests into their donations; impressing your brother by how easy you made it look. You thanked each donor with a pretty smile and fluttering lashes, floating around the room to meet other investors; giving them your family's charity's mission statement and explained where their money would go. Most of the people in this room were seedy criminals - similar to your father - and the other few were corrupt politicians who were nestled in the criminal's pockets.

By no means was the night boring, but this was work for you; all business, no pleasure.

The decor your mother chose had a lot of glittering gold details; a few imported busts and statues, an entire wall full of sculpted grass to mimic the Palace's own garden designs; artwork hung in thick, intricate frames, bright crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The event hall was specifically chosen for the floor-to-ceiling windows, sculpted shrubbery planted around the room; banquet tables covered in white cloth and chairs made of white plush - complimenting the detailed golden accents. It was gorgeous, you were impressed by your mother's attention to detail.

You wore a dress made of fine silk, the pretty green hue complimenting your skin tone; hair left down, pinned at the sides, showing off the dangling, expensive earrings your father gifted you on your 18th birthday. You, too, wore heels that forced you to walk taller and with calculated steps; rimmed eyes darting around to ensure there wasn't any shady business transpiring. But when surrounded by people who made their living by being sketchy, it was hard to clock each and every movement; being why your father had hired a very specific (and loyal) security service.

With several checks in hand, you visited your father's banker, a mute man named Bradley, and handed them over for safe keeping; your brother able to practice his sign language. Bradley was happy to reply, your entire family versed in multiple languages, and showed the young lad his process of collecting and documenting the donations. After tallying your new checks to the grand total, he used British Sign Language to inform you and Oisín of the updated tally generated so far.

"Why does Daddy need to do this?" The young lad asked, holding your hand tightly; not being a fan of social interactions - especially to this magnitude.

"To keep business moving squeaky clean," you answered softly, smiling at a few who passed you. "Money makes the world go 'round, don't it?"

He sighed, "Do we know all these people?"

"We do, they're Daddy's associates," you nodded, "and you best believe, they all know us. See, one day, you'll learn their names and what businesses they provide, how Daddy keeps them all employed."

Oisín looked uncomfortable, wondering, "Are they dangerous? Like the guys that came for Christmas?"

You came to a halt around the edge of the room, caressing his head while being careful not to muse his hair out of place. "They're all dangerous, in their own way, yes, lovie. But," you lowered into a squat so you could look your brother in his eyes, "you'll learn, Daddy's much more dangerous. So, we host events like this t'keep everyone happy and in line, you see? It's a power play."

He nodded, glancing around the room of adults. "Do I have to stay the whole time, though? Mommy said I could invite Darrel and Kevin - they're over there," he pointed towards one of the round tables, two of his classmates laughing with their mothers standing off to the side. "And I'm hungry!"

"Oh, you're a hungry lad, is it?" You smiled, watching his head bob. "Well then, in that case, we should feed you, huh? C'mon," you straightened and offered your hand, which he took gratefully. "We'll get yah fed, sweetums, and you can hang with your friends, yeah?"

"Daddy won't be mad?"

"No, I'll tell him you did really well tonight, helping me collect donations," you winked, leading him to one of the catering tables. You made up his plate with different options, carrying it to the table his friends, Darrel and Kevin, were sat at.

The boys - who looked adorably dapper in suits and bowties - greeted your brother happily; letting you set his plate down and greet the mothers kindly to thank them for their attendance that night.

"Oh, Miss!" Your brother's au pair, Lisa, hustled up to you, "I'm so sorry, I lost track - "

"No, no, 's fine, you're all right, deep breath, love," you assured, squeezing her upper arm. "Having a good night so far?"

"Oh, it's magical, Miss, innit?" She beamed, looking around in wonder. "Never been before despite working for your family all these years, I'm grateful for your mother's invitation tonight."

"Oh, we're very happy to host yah, sweetheart," you smiled. "But, uh, you mind keepin' an eye on Oisín for me? I've gotta work a bit more. He just wants t'hang with his friends, think he's a bit tired."

"Of course," she rushed.

"I'd wager you can take him t'bed after Daddy's speech, hmm? I know he'll want Oisín here for that, at the very least."

Lisa agreed, mingling with the other mothers as you pecked Oisín's head and told him to behave, that you were gonna go back to working the gala; which he at least acknowledged before being sucked back into a card game with Darrel. You didn't mind the blow off, liking the idea that he had as normal of a life as possible - a farfetched idea considering your father ran the bloody Irish Mafia and all. He's attended three different schools since he started his educational career, so you were content to leave him with his friends; letting boys be boys.

After making another deposit to Bradley, you visited one of the modern and unique glass bars (one of three stations) while feeling somewhat dejected by the night's missing guest. But speak (or think) of the Devil and He shall appear.

"You weren't kiddin' when you said your family goes all out for events like this. Jesus fuckin' Christ," a familiar, accented voice crooned; a body saddling up to the bar beside you. You first saw his hands clasped together on the bar, recognizing the golden rings and single bracelet, smirking as your eyes lifted to meet that of Aaron - or Tangerine.

"You're late," you mused, locking eyes with the bartender and holding up two fingers; indicating you now wanted two of the drinks you ordered, him nodding.

"Sorry 'bout that, love, yeah, no, Lem and I got caught up in somethin', had ta deal, then get cleaned up for yah. Figured you wouldn't want us walkin' in here with blood on us."

"You'd be right," you hummed, red painted lips stretching in amusement as you both casually leaned on the glass bartop with your forearms. "Doesn't matter, you're here now - thank God."

"That bad, huh?"

"Not like previous years," you admitted, sending a glance over your shoulder at the group of milling socialites. "Since Daddy inducted The Agency, some traction's picked up believe it or not. Seems like a lot of people like the idea of contract killers for hire and investing in the Black Market. Seems like you lot really up the ante, don't'cha?"

"Ah," he smirked, "you're welcome, then. Happy t'be of service."

"I'll only thank you when you make a donation to the cause."

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Well, you got anywhere private for me to write a check, then, love? Can't have anyone knowin' I'm charitable, got a reputation to uphold, know what I mean?" Then he leaned in real close, lips ghosted against your ear and making a shiver shoot down your spine, "C'mon, doll, 's been 3 weeks since I've seen yah."

"I know," you sighed, "but we've been busy tonight. Plus, Daddy would kill you - like, actually kill you - 'cause he's listed you specifically for me to stay away from."

"And yet, here you are, naughty girl, huh? Disobeying orders?" He smirked and put a space between you for the sake of appearances, two glasses of whiskey set before you. "Your Daddy's been preoccupied all night, love - don't think he'd even notice if we pop out for a bit. 'Fraid to admit but if I don't get you alone soon, I might actually lose my shit, darlin', honestly."

"Aaron, sweetheart, my family is hosting this event and we're responsible for collections," you deadpanned, but smirked, "'s a bit inappropriate to abandon such an important night by sneaking off."

"Can't tell me you're not tempted."

Now, you full-on grinned, "I didn't wear panties for a reason."

"You fuckin' tease," he growled over the rim of the crystal glass. When he tasted the whiskey, he hummed in shock, looking at the amber liquid, "Fuck me, that's nice."

"My family may or may not own several distilleries. You're drinking an exquisite, 15-year ol' whiskey, love." You took your own sip, casting another look around the room, finding your brother first, still with his friends before locating your parents. They were pleasantly distracted by an ambassador, making you grin at Tangerine, "C'mon."

"Hey?" He wondered, quickly setting his half-drank glass down as you snatched his free hand to quickly lead him away. He smirked and casted a look over his shoulder, instantly meeting Lemon's eyes - finding him laughing at the pair of you, toasting his drink at his brother in impression as if he knew what you two were up to.

Thanks to Thomas the Tank Engine, Lemon definitely knew what you two were doing - being excellent at reading people.

You lead your lover out of the event hall, checking up and down the empty hall and missing the way one of the security guards clocked your escape. You lead Tangerine into the large, private, unisex bathroom; shoving him against the closed door and instantly latching onto him in a deep kiss.

He was fully prepared, catching your hips; hissing a breath in through his nose, releasing a gentle moan out of sheer relief. When you pulled back, he grinned, "Got no idea how much I fuckin' missed yah, darlin'."

"Missed you more," you whispered in a rush, arms wrapping around his neck as he simultaneously began backing you up. It was a hungry kiss; heated, passionate, teeth clanking from impact, both attempting to make up for lost time. Ever in-sync, both your mouths opened to push your tongues against one another; exchanging saliva and the taste of expensive whiskey.

"C'mere," he panted after having backed you into the sink counter, seizing hold of your silken hips and hoisting you upwards. Your mouths were never far apart, joining together once more now that you were sat at a vantage point. Your hands shoved his navy blue suit jacket from his shoulders, it being set aside to the other end of the counter while you worked on his belt. "Never goin' this long again," he mumbled into your kiss, pushing the material of your dress up to let your legs spread wider in accommodation. Your lover rushed, "Jesus, fuck, feels like forever, don't it?"

You nodded as his hands pushed under the bunched material to grip the plush meat of your thighs; giving a gentle massage before sliding them higher until he met your bare hips. The cold counter bit into your exposed flesh.

"Oh, fuck me, you really didn't wear panties?" He groaned, glancing down as he lifted silk from your lap to catch a glimpse of your bare cunt - ready to greet him.

"Had a feelin' you'd show up, you just can't stay away, can yah?" You smirked, cheekily licking his lips as his belt clattered open. "Thought you'd might appreciate it," your chuckle was swallowed by his moan as the zipper of his trousers sounded almost shrilly to your over heightened senses. "Just need you close, so fuckin' close, please, missed you, baby - "

"No idea how much I've missed you, love, fuckin' hell," he rushed, reaching into his briefs the moment you had loosened the waistband of his tailored trousers to take hold of his cock. "This ain't gonna be nice an' easy, love, yeah? All right?" He checked, feeling you slide to the edge of the counter.

"Didn't think anything else," you grinned, gasping lightly when the head of his cock swept up and down your slit. "Plenty of time for that later, just need you fuckin' close - closer than close."

"Feel how fuckin' wet you are already? Goddamnit - "

"All for you, baby, c'mon, don't tease - "

In a single motion, Tangerine sheathed himself in your warmth, grinning in mischief, "Huh? Sayin' somethin', weren't yah, doll? Go 'head, finish your sentence, 'M listening."

You only chuckled, hands holding his neck and bicep in vice grips to keep yourself anchored as close as possible to him. "Three weeks without yah, and you wanna provoke me?" You whispered, feeling him begin to thrust in agonizing movements.

"Wouldn't be me if I didn't, huh?"

You chuckled breathlessly - gasping when, suddenly, the bathroom door burst open. You were facing that way, looking up from Tangerine's shoulder, only to discover your worst fear. "Holy shit! Daddy!?" You squeaked, Tangerine jolting and cursing in a hushed tone as he instantly yanked out of your wet warmth.

"Oh, you betta be fuckin' kiddin' me," your father seethed. "The fuck is goin' on here!? What the fuck are you goin'!? Who the fuck is that - is-is-is that who I think it is?" He growled, your lover fumbling to tuck himself away and pull his trousers back together - not moving from between your legs in an effort to preserve your modesty. But he had turned slightly to give your father a glimpse of his face, making your Daddy snarl, "Oh, bloody fuckin' hell! You serious? Fuckin' Tangerine, is it? You lost your mind, girl!?"

"Daddy, please," you warbled nervously, tears of anxiety gathering.

"Get the fuck out here - now! Boff of yah's!" He commanded in a roar, stepping out of the doorway.

"Oh, holy fuck," Aaron breathed, latching his belt and looking at you with wide eyes. "Well, was nice while this lasted, huh? Gonna miss yah, pretty girl - "

"The fuck are you - "

"He's gonna fuckin' kill me, sugar," Tangerine frowned, your dress falling gracefully into place when you slid off the counter. "Your father's gonna fuckin' kill me, Goddamnit," he pulled his suit jacket back on. "Think I can make it out that window?"

"He already knows it's you, runnin' now won't help," you sniffled, shaking your head and moving for the still-opened door. "You didn't think to fucking lock the door? Jesus fuck, Aaron..."

He followed after you, meeting your father in the empty hallway outside where the gala was in full-swing. He looked enraged, jaw clenched and wide eyes ablaze, looking the both of you over in disgust. "You out of your bloody mind you stupid girl? Huh?" He demanded, "I told you - very clearly - you weren't to fuckin' see him again."

"Daddy - "

"And this is how I find out? Huh? That my daughter doesn't respect my authority or listen to my words? How the fuck do you think people would react to that? They see you disobeying and get the idea to do the same."

"I'm not yours to command - "

"You're my daughter!" Fallon barked in anger, "My only fuckin' daughter, which means, you are, indeed, mine to command - just like everyone else in this fucking organization! You understand? My word is law - "

"This isn't just some petty fling, Daddy, that I'm engaged in to pass the time! I'm in love with him!" You blurted out, eyes widening when you heard your own words and watched your father's face fall.

"Beg your pardon?" He seethed slowly. "Have you gone mental? Finally fuckin' lost it? Huh? You must be outta your Goddamn mind if you think you love this silly fuck! He doesn't love you back, Y/N, you're just a coveted prize because you're my daughter - it's a thrill to men like him! Women like you, you're just trophies! There's no authenticity - "

"With all due respect," Tangerine interrupted boldly with anger lacing his words, "but you've got it all wrong, sir. Your daughter is the most important person t'me - outside my bruva, of course. She's not a trophy to collect, she's not a dainty object for me to store onna shelf - she's not a notch on my belt. But you're right about one thing," his arm extended around your waist, "she is the most coveted prize - but that's because of who she is, not who her father is. She's my prize, yeah, because she's the end goal men search their whole lives for and for whatever reason, she fuckin' chose me. I consider it the greatest honor - "

"You got some fuckin' nerve, don't'cha?" Your father growled. "You know what, lad? Since it's evident my daughter doesn't take me seriously, maybe you'll be smart enough to heed my warning. You leave her the fuck alone or - "

"I can't do that, sir," Tan refused, "'cause like it or not, I'm mad for her. Absolutely stupid for her. I love your daughter past words, don't even think I've ever loved someone 'cause bein' with her feels so fuckin' different in comparison.

"That so?"

Tangerine nodded, other hand shoving into his pocket to toy with the cool metal of golden brass knuckles. "There's nobody in this world like your daughter, sir. Bein' in love with her is like euphoria, yeah? Makes me think back and realize how wrong I was about my feelings for anyone else 'cause of how I feel for her. I say there ain't no way I've ever loved anyone else 'cause I've never felt this way before - I've only felt this type of love with your daughter. Yeah? She's fuckin' everything to me, so, with respect, I can't stay away. I won't."

"Yeah? Yeah? Fuckin' fine. All right, sure, let's see if The Agency has anythin' t'say about this, huh? When I pull the plug on this deal, I'll be sure to tell your employers why and let them deal with you for ruining this business partnership."

"Daddy," you gasped, rushing when he turned for the event hall's doors, Aaron following swiftly. You caught the metal doors when your father yanked them open and strode into the room, doing your best to catch him before he did anything too rash. "Wait, wait, Daddy, please, just listen, listen to me - I didn't mean for this to happen!"

"Didn't mean for what? Me findin' yah fuckin' in the bathroom like a desperate whore?" He snarled over his shoulder, the thick crowd slowing him.

"Well, yes, but I also didn't mean to fall in love with him! All right? But you know better than all of us that it's not a choice, it just happens! Look at you and Mum - "

He rounded on you, Tan at your flank, opening his mouth to scold you when something caught his eye behind you. You didn't have time to question him as rapid shots filled the air, a telltale sign of an automatic gun being fired in the crowded room. You flinched slightly, Tangerine instantly grabbing your waist to cover your body with his; turning to locate the threat, only to discover a gaggle of men in all black wearing ski masks and duffel bags on their shoulders.

"Friends of yours?" Tan snipped at your father, keeping you low as the crowd shrieked in panic - all trying to escape, still being shot at. This caused the seedy individuals with guns to take a stand and shoot back at the intruders, creating mass confusion and limited advantages.

"Bruv!"

"Brian," Aaron panted, people bumping into one another as they panicked in a flood of bodies. He looked down at you and then to your father, Fallon, only to find blood blooming under his white button up. "Oh, fuck," his eyes widened, gunshots still sounding, "right, we gotta move - can deal with everything else later. Here, here, here," Tangerine plucked a cloth napkin from a nearby table and shoved it over your father's wound to help staunch the bleeding.

"They got the doors, mate," Lemon shook his head when you noticed your father's wound. Luckily, it didn't appear to be in a fatal location, his hand holding pressure as the security detail were being gunned down. "The fuck do we do now?" Lemon asked over shrill shrieks.

"What we do best," Tangerine answered, pushing your father into action and brandishing his gun. "Stay close - "

"I'm not leaving without my wife and son!" Your father growled.

"Lem!"

"On it," he agreed, disappearing into the swarm of people.

Your lover kept you close, shoving through the crowd to lead towards a set of heavy metal doors. Several men stepped in your way, Tan sneering, "Right, fuck this." He opened fire.

You squeaked in shock when a different body tackled Aaron from the side to knock him out of sight, your father keeping a hold on you as straggling bodies dropped around you. "There he is!" You heard over the confusion, locating a set of men surging towards you.

There was nowhere to go, leaving you to physically block your father in a bid to protect him - not needing to when Tangerine intercepted the two threats. He didn't have his gun anymore, lost in a stampede of feet on bloody marble floors, opting to use his fists and brute strength against the robbers. The brass knuckles helped.

You had to admit, it was the perfect night to attack considering how much money Bradley was keeping track of. Plus the fact that everyone's guard was down made tonight the perfect opportunity for marauders to act against your family.

However, in a sea of confusion, you were separated from your father's side; losing him amongst the people and feeling a tight hand seize your upper arm. "I got the daughter!" The man in a ski mask informed through the visible comms system. "Moving for the south wing, bring the van around t'the alley."

"Aaron!" You begged, trying to wrangle free but discovering your strength was nothing compared to the 6'3'' goon's. "Aaron! Aaron, please! Help!"

"Shut the fuck up," the man snapped, backhanding you and never releasing his grip. A single trickle of blood oozed from one nostril as the man's ring split your bottom lip. "Fuckin' move!" He barked at you in a thick accent, "Move, bitch, let's go!"

"What do you want!? Please, just - just tell me! I can give you whatever it is - please! Fucking let go!"

Another enemy joined you, sneering, "Oi! The fuck you doin'? Don't damage the goods, fuckin' idiot, we gotta keep her in decent shape for the ransom! Fallon ain't payin' if his daughter's been assaulted - "

But a gunshot boomed and the other man's body jolted before falling flat on his back - dead with a hole in his forehead. You tried to capitalize on your captor's shock, unsuccessful, feeling blood splatter on your back from a different fallen body. You saw your father under the wing of his security, his own gun being used in defense, begging, "Daddy! Daddy, help!"

The one night you don't ensure your thigh holster's filled, of course this happens!

Fallon was only able to watch as Tangerine fought his way up to you struggling in the bulky man's grip; impressed when one contract killer engaged another. "Oi!" Tan barked, "Hands off my girl, yah fuckin' lunatic!" He threw several punches, the goon forced to release you to defend himself. Fallon watched as Tangerine waited until you were freed and a step to the side before opening fire again - killing the man who dared touch you. He realized that Tangerine had waited until you were clear to take the shot - feeling impression plant in his gut. Yet there was no time to dwell as intruders circled him.

"Oh, my God!" You whimpered, bodies left in growing pools of blood; your dress dragging in the tacky substance to paint abstract swirls on the shining floor; trying to avoid being swept up in the streams of panicking people. Your name was barked, another hand grabbing you, but this time, it was Lemon - sprayed in enemy blood.

"C'mon, doll, I got'cha!" He promised, being engaged by another robber. You sobbed in shock when an arm caught you in a headlock and forcefully drug you backwards; heeled feet scrambling in an attempt to keep up and avoid falling over.

"Lemon! Please! Fuck's sake!"

Breathing was hard to do in a headlock, dancing black spots blurring your vision slowly and your heart hammering in fear. A machine gun sounded again. The bicep tightened, dramatically limiting air.

"Fuckin' get off her, arsehole!" Recognizing Aaron's voice was a sheer relief, gasping for air when the arm constricted around your neck released suddenly. However, the momentum made you stumble to the ground at the same time for the goon's dead body to drop right next to you. His wide, dead eyes stared unseeingly at you, forcing a shiver down your spine and for your stomach to knot.

"Jesus Christ, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God," you panted, scrambling when blood spread closer.

"C'mon, love, c'mere, c'mere," Tangerine grunted, hauling you to your feet and protectively keeping you to his side. Being in front of you now, you could note the blood on his button up, how the robber's own punches had bruised and bloodied his face; figuring you looked somewhat similar. "Right, listen please, need yah t'do somethin' for me, love," he kept a sharp eye out for other threats as he tugged up one of his trouser legs. He pulled out the gun strapped in the holster, handing it to you with the instruction, "Shoot first, answers later. Yeah? Hey?"

You nodded and accepted the weapon, unlocking the safety. "I have to find Mum and Oisín," you worried, men and women screaming as the brutal fight continued.

"Just stay close, love, 's fuckin' madhouse - FUCK!" He snapped, aiming and firing at a man racing for you two. "C'mon, we gotta move, gotta get you out of here - right to the fuck now - "

Your gun sounded, Tangerine watching another robber drop only feet away. He pushed you through the people, both with your heads on a swivel; working in tandem to clear the banquet hall of robbers and direct survivors to get out. Your curly-haired boyfriend held one of the robbers by the neck and repeatedly punching his face into a pulp after the other man had attempted to snatch you, too.

Nobody came remotely close to you again, not when Tangerine was on guard; protecting you, defending you, killing for you. The skin on his bare knuckles had split open, but Tangerine didn't even notice; he just moved on to the next threat.

Soon, the gunfire ceased, leaving a ringing in survivor's ears, and after a quick look around the room, Tangerine confirmed the threats were all eliminated - but so were several guests of the charity gala.

You gasped in guilt, hand slapping over your mouth when you nearly tripped over Lisa's body; bullet holes shredding her flesh.

"Bruv," Lemon panted, approaching the two of you and making Tan flinch. "Woah, hey, easy, 's just me," he held his hands up, your lover sighing in relief and keeping you sheltered behind him. "You two good?" Brian asked, sheen of sweat coating his skin.

"You hit, love? Hey?" Tangerine looked down at you, keeping one arm around you and his body at a protective angle. "Shit, your face - your fucking face, sweetheart, look at me, look at me, lemme see," he frowned, holstering his gun to take both your cheeks in his hands and look for other injury.

"I'm okay, promise I'm not hurt," you panted, hands trembling. "Are you two?"

"I'm good," he nodded, eyeing Lemon. "Yeah?"

"Good, yeah, I'm good," Brian confirmed, "but I got some bad news. Looks like they got the banker. I can't tell if they made off with the money or not."

"They couldn't've, we only accepted checks tonight," you explained. "No cash, no assets to steal."

"Take it that's not public knowledge," Lemon sighed. "Probably thought they could rob y'all blind in one move, thinkin' tonight would have cash donations."

You sniffled, "You seen my family?"

"Uh," Lemon looked around, nodding, "yeah, your dad's over there."

Peering around Tangerine's form, you located your father slowly stalking around the room; taking note of the dead bodies left behind, survivors clearing out into the hallways. Fallon made his way up to you three, your voice trembling, "Daddy? You all right? Where's Mum and Oisín?"

"They're safe, with the paramedics," he reported, instantly taking you in his embrace. "Ah, fuck, lost sight of yah in this mess, had me worried, girl."

"I'm sorry."

"Nah," he whispered, caressing the back of your head, "don't apologize, you ain't do nothin'." He took a breath, keeping you caressed to his shoulder, "Gotta admit, felt a helluva lot better knowin' your man had your six." You pulled back slowly, watching your father sigh and nod at the Twins, admitting, "Thank you for protectin' my daughter, don't know how t'repay yah."

"Wasn't nothin' to it, sir," Tangerine assured, adjusting his suit jacket, "just wanted to protect my woman."

"I saw," he nodded. "You boys okay?"

"Yes, sir," Lemon nodded, Tangerine doing the same.

"Very good... Then I think I owe you an apology," your father told Tan, shocking you - not knowing the last time you ever heard you father admit to an apology.

"Not necessary, sir, I understand," Tan deflected, skin glistening in a thin sheen of sweat, blood dabbed around from the robber's fists, "I'm just relieved your family's safe."

"No, listen, I was wrong," Fallon admitted, "sayin' all that shit to you - about you. You know, makin' my assumptions, goin' based on rumors. You've got a bit of a reputation, I was just tryna protect my daughter from gettin' her heart broke." He sighed, shaking his head, "Can protect her from damn near everything - except the complications of her own heart; the woes of a relationship."

"I understand, sir."

"But seein' you tonight, fightin' for her, fightin' to get back to her... I was wrong," Fallon sighed, offering his hand. When Tan shook it, your father offered, "For what it's worth, you've got my permission to... Continue whatever this is. Any lad willing t'put themselves in harms way for my girl is all right in my books."

"I appreciate that," Tangerine sniffled, meeting your eye and smirking slightly. "Your daughter means a lot t'me, swear I won't make yah regret givin' us your approval."

Fallon sighed, nodding, "Yeah, all right, good. 'Cause she's precious to me, you know? I'll fuckin' gut you if you hurt her."

"I believe it," Tan sighed, a single twinge of nervousness to his tone, "but you don't gotta worry, sir, right, 'cause last thing I want is t'hurt the woman I love. She's precious to me, too."

"Right, good, uh, well... Thank you, both, for helping tonight. Would've been a fuckin' bloodbath without yah."

You frowned, gazing around the marble floors, "Still a bloodbath, ain't it? Half our men are dead, several investors... Daddy, who the fuck were these men?"

"That's what I'm gonna find out," he growled, his surviving personnel taking note of the event-room-turned-battlefield, slowly starting to move bodies. Little known fact: the hotel had an industrial size furnace in the boiler room - somewhere your father could burn bodies without the police being tipped off.

"Th-They said something about a ransom," you told the trio in a trembling tone, "about ransoming me back to you, Daddy. Said you wouldn't pay if I was injured, so they shouldn't rough me up."

"Hey," Tan whispered, pulling you into his side securely, "don't gotta worry 'bout that - know there's nowhere for anyone to hide you that I wouldn't find."

Fallon actually liked that sentiment, watching you nod and for your lover to hold you securely and placing a kiss to your forehead. So, he asked, knowing the answer, "Can I trust you to take care of my daughter, lad?"

"Absolutely."

"Don't make me regret this."

"Not in this lifetime, sir."

"Good. I'll find you lot in the mornin', get gone."

After a brief reunion with your mother and brother, learning they were uninjured and safe, you boyfriend finally opened the door to the hotel room you two had been assigned. Lemon was right next door, and when you entered, your luggage was left on the bed for you both. It was quiet as you both cleaned up and prepared for bed; silent tears trickling down your cheeks, mind replaying the night's events over and over and over... Like a never ending nightmare.

In the shower, you sat on the floor with arms tight around your knees, Tangerine sitting with you as warm water cascaded; cocooning steam around you. Blood washed off in waves of pink, circling the drain; your boyfriend gently massaging your body with a washcloth, discovering a scattering of injury - some still open and weeping. He was forced to blink back tears when your neck revealed a significant bruise; considering it a reminder of his failure to protect you, not knowing you felt the direct opposite and knew, if he hadn't been there, things would've been much, much worse.

When you joined Aaron in bed, the silence continued. Your heads laid on plush, stark white pillows; on your sides to stare at one another with hands clasped together between you. No words were needed, no explanation or thanks necessary, neither feeling the need to speak on what happened that night. Tangerine let go of your one hand, slowly reaching out to caress your cheek and jaw, fingertip tracing soft lines; shuffling closer to rest his cut forehead on yours.

In the dark of the room, over the sounds of the humming air conditioner unit, Tangerine whispered, "I love you, doll."

"I love you, too, Aaron. Thank you for... You know, tonight... All you did."

"You being safe, in my arms, is enough thanks."

"I-I'm glad you were here."

He nodded in agreement, "So am I. Don't know what I'd of done if I wasn't - if I had t'hear about this later... If they had succeeded in snatching you. Might not have been able to forgive myself."

"Good thing we don't have to know." Your eyes danced between his, admitting, "I don't think I want t'go without you, love. I don't think I feel secure unless you're with me."

"Yeah?" He smirked slightly, "That your way of sayin' you wanna spend more time with me?"

"Might be my way of sayin' I wanna spend all my time with you," you whispered, tears glazing your eyes. "And Daddy approves, so we don't have to sneak around anymore, right?"

"Right, get yah all t'myself," Tan agreed softly. "We'll talk in the morning, sweetheart, yeah?" He stretched slightly to peck your lips, encouraging, "Get some rest, Bunny. 'S been a helluva night."

Tangerine made you feel safe, he protected you and killed for you - so while you were unsure how sleep would find you when your mind was plagued with replaying chaotic memories from that evening, you let yourself relax.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x oc #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine smut #tangerine fanfiction #tangerine angst #tangerine hurt and comfort #tangerine fluff #tangerine headcanon #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj character #atj x reader #atj x fem!reader #atj #aaron taylor johnson #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #bullet train x reader #tangerine imagine #tangerine fic #tangerine fanfic

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here's a lovely 1930 Mediterranean style home in New Orleans, Louisiana, that's got 3bds, 2ba, for $499K. This is what you get for less than $500K, but it has potential.

It has a nice, large, sunny living room with a nice stairscase and parquet floors.

Wide opening to a very spacious dining room with beautiful doors to the side yard. Has lots of potential, especially with the beautiful windows along the side.

The kitchen's cute and all redone, plus I would imagine, that you could use the little area next to it as a dinette.

The primary bedroom isn't a bad size.

Bath #1 is kind of retro.

Bedroom #2. I don't like the door, but that's a nice decor idea- like the pots on the floor grouped together.

Bedroom #3 is set up as a den.

Bath #2 is a nice shower room with a cute pedestal sink.

They made the attic a walk-in closet.

Nice big laundry room.

The sun room is beautiful.

Pretty area on the side of the house.

Nice patio and garden.

Plus, it has a garage and the corner lot measures 3,937 sq. ft.

#NOLA homes #mediterranean style homes #houses #house tours #home tour

[ducktoonsfanart]

Donald Duck as Napoleon Bonaparte, Scrooge McDuck as Gaius Julius Caesar and Louie Duck (Quack Pack) as Alexander the Great - Conquerors - Real Ducks in History - History in Duckverse

I've always wanted to do a special project called Duckverse in History and my plan is to draw my favorite characters as redraws from famous works of art as well as famous historical figures. And since history is my favorite science, and my favorite field, I definitely wanted to do something related to it and related to one of my favorite historical characters. Since I don't want to complicate the situation, I will gradually publish a drawing related to that historical figure from time to time. I started this last year for Duckvember only to finish at the end of last month.

The first drawing is a redraw from Jacques Louis David's famous early 19th century artwork depicting Napoleon Bonaparte crossing the Alps in 1800 before the Battle of Marengo. Napoleon Bonaparte was the most famous French military leader, general, consul and emperor who waged war with all of Europe at the time and managed to subjugate it in its entirety except for the Ottoman Empire, Russia and Great Britain. He is from Corsica, but he left a lot for France and proved that France is not worth messing with easily. He also gave many reforms and his Civil Code which spread throughout Europe and brought order in France after the French Revolution. Napoleon's nature is very similar to Donald Duck and I drew Donald as Napoleon since he was created for that role and I drew him riding his horse Marengo in my own style, but in a realistic way and that Donald has five fingers.

The second drawing is a redraw of a statue made by Nicolas Coustou at the end of the 17th century for the decoration of Versailles, which depicts the greatest Roman, Gaius Julius Caesar. Although he was not an emperor, certainly many presented him, but he was a dictator, consul, general, writer, historian, engineer, constructor, and a great military leader who changed the Roman Republic into an almost Roman Empire. His fights against the Gauls, as well as the conflict with Pompey and his love with Cleopatra, are known, but he also changed a lot in Rome and was extremely rich. And he lived during the first century BC. That's why I drew Scrooge McDuck as Gaius Julius Caesar since Scrooge is a great leader and he also strived for fame and fortune and to be remembered in the future and he plays the role of the best Roman. Behind it are the Colosseum (built a century after him), the aqueduct (then irrigation) and the Pantheon (built two centuries after him), as well as a Roman temple that symbolizes Rome at that time, as well as the roads themselves. In addition, Topolino (Italian comics) are showed Scrooge as Caesar two or three times so that's where my inspiration came from.

The third drawing shows Louie Duck (the Quack Pack version, not the Ducktales reboot) shows Alexander the Great, another brilliant conqueror from the fourth century BC and I drew it as a redraw from the mosaic of Alexander the Great from the battle of Issus in which he confronts the Persian king Darius III from Pompeii, probably from the first century BC. Alexander the Great was the son of Philip II and the king of Macedonia who united Greece and fought against Persia and managed to conquer an entire empire in his twenties. He traveled through the Persian Empire and reached India and wanted to continue, but his soldiers did not want to continue, so he returned to Babylon, his new capital. He certainly changed the world at that time and introduced a new culture, called Hellenism, as a combination of ancient Greek culture and the culture of the Ancient East and ancient India. I drew Louie as Alexander because as a young man he is a great adventurer and rides his black horse Bucephalus and is eager for extremes, yet unlike Alexander, Louie shows a bit of his shyness, but is still brave enough to take on new challenges. I also added a helmet as worn by Alexander III in his time. Behind Louie are the pyramids from Egypt, the Ishtar Gate from Babylon and the imperial palace from Persepolis where the Persian rulers lived and it actually shows the lands that Alexander the Great conquered.

I certainly hope you like these drawings and these ideas and that these characters have such historical roles. Of course, Duckverse in history I combine mostly everything related to Duckverse (Donald Duck comics, OG Ducktales, Three Caballeros, Darkwing Duck and Quack Pack) and it's mostly my version and my idea. By all means if you like this and support these ideas, feel free to like and reblog this, but please don't use these same ideas without mentioning me and without my permission. Thank you!

#my fanarts #traditional art #artists on tumblr #donald duck #history #duckverse #ducktales #napoleon bonaparte #gaius julius caesar #alexander the great #scrooge mcduck #louie duck #quack pack #disney ducks #duckverse in history #disney duck comics #rome #france #topolino #greece #disney duckverse #quack pack au #art #my redraws #the conquerors #my fanart #comics #cartoons #my style #julius ceaser

[resplendentoutfit]

Festooned in Flowers: A Victorian Fashion Trend of the 1870s and 1880s

Artificial flowers are much used both for hair ornaments and as trimming on the gown – the largest size roses possible made of silk or velvet in black, white, or different colors with the dewdrop effect of rhinestones or diamonds. – Vogue, 1901

Some dresses, such as the gown below, were trimmed with elaborate garlands of flowers.

Right: Gustave Boulanger (French, Portrait de Madame Lambinet, née Nathalie Sinclair • 1887 • Musée Lambinet, Versailles

Left: Rogelio de Egusquiza y Barrena (Spanish, 1845-1915) • The End of the Ball • 1879

Flower garlands appeared draped over the entire gown, or just the skirt of a gown. Flower clusters were also popular on the shoulder, the middle of the neckline, and on a strategic placement where the fabric was gathered. Sometimes it seems they were used everywhere at once.

The Art of Dressing Well. A Complete Guide to Economy, Style and Propriety, published in 1870 advises: 

“Yet, even in the full dress requisite for evening parties, the rule should be to dress well, becomingly, and appropriately, but not obtrusive, and above all, not gaudily, or too much. It is a crime against good taste to be too much in excess of the company, yet care must be bestowed upon the costume, the hostess expects it, and the guests observe its neglect. It is the test of good taste to be in the foremost rank of guests for appropriate dress, but never in advance of others." 

Hmmm...it seems to me through today's lens that the antique gown in the photo above is "too much".

Short, or what we now call cap sleeves, were essential for formal evening wear in any season, as were sleeveless dresses. Off-the-shoulder and low-necklines were also very popular.

Glittering jewelry was often worn – necklaces in double-strands, dangle earrings, bracelets, and pearls. Some fashion plates and gowns in museums show women wearing a thin velvet ribbon around the neck.

Long gloves were a must. Hats were not considered appropriate in formal wear but fancy comb and pins were. As stated above, fabric flowers were also often used to decorate hairstyles that were mostly up-dos. Feathers were sometimes also tucked into the hair. Some hairstyles were very elaborate. And then there is the ubiquitous fan; either held closed or open to show off a special design.

#fashion history #women's fashion history #victorian fashion #victorian fashion plates #victorian formal attire #ball gowns #victorian flower decorated gowns #history of fashion #the resplendent outfit art & fashion blog #gustave courbet #rogelio de egusquiza y barrena #victorian art #art #art history #french artist #genre painting #19th century european art #painting

[ronearoundblindly]

Valentines day with Ari before they started "dating" each other

Alone Together, a Bedrock and Blueprints tale

Final of the Valentine's Fics of 2023. Thank you for the ask, Princess! Wishing everyone a loving day of friends, family, and healing. 💙 No warnings except for mild language (it me) and some bad behavior from a jerk that Ari steps in for! Oh, big shock, it's 1.8k...like they all are 😒 (so lightly edited, you'd never know)

He’ll forever be known as Dickhead Darren. He talked a good game. You commiserated over shitty exes. He wanted all the same things long-term. He was open and affectionate, always holding your hand or walking with an arm over your shoulder. After only a dozen or so dates, you were on cloud nine with high, high hopes.

Then came Valentine’s Day.

What is it about this damn day that just upends whole lives every flipping year?

Your best friend, Ari, genuinely doesn’t leave his apartment all day for this very reason, and you chided him this time, full force, saying he was paranoid to strategically be single on February 14th every year.

Ari…might be right.

Darren, however, turns out to be big on the V-Day planning. He’s made reservations at the priciest place in the city, something you insisted was unnecessary but were told ‘you’re worth it.’ So you stopped arguing, tried to take the compliment, and started to get pretty excited about the big day. 

You hurry home to dress up after work and make it to the restaurant on time. Darren lives in a swanky apartment downtown. It’s easier for him to meet you there. His last text said he was excited to see you and he was heading home from work.

You have to pull hard on the heavy glass door before the hostess politely seats four other couples in front of you. You give Darren’s name, and she smiles. They can seat you immediately. Since there are already people filing in behind you, you let her weave you through a sea of two-tops, texting Darren the approximate location so he can find you when he arrives.

No response comes. If he’s driving there, he probably can’t text back.

You wait.

By the second check-in by the waiter, you order a drink and then you sip and sip and sip. You shoot another text to Darren asking if he thinks he’ll be a bit late after all. Maybe he’s afraid to admit that. Maybe he picked up flowers last minute, or simply hit traffic.

Ari would hate this place. The decor is so fancy it pushes gaudy and sparkles with metals and facets a little too much, but you can’t deny it is a sight to experience. As discreetly as you can, you send your friend photos of the beautiful but highly overdone decorations and the needlessly romantic petals on the tabletop.

Ari’s question is why the seat at the edge of the picture is empty. You say it’s not even the exact time of your reservation yet, so it’s fine. Darren is on his way, you’re pretty sure. Ari drops it and asks about the food.

There’s a set, sharing menu for the evening, and your stomach starts to growl while you pine for an appetizer.

Still, nothing from Darren but you’ve only been seated for fifteen minutes. Darren has never been late without messaging you though.

Since Ari is the only one responding, you keep texting him. You express a little concern that no text has arrived from your date. Darren probably looked at the prices, Ari jokes. The man got scared of what that kinda cost commitment would mean, and you fire back that not all guys are as afraid of love as Levinson is.

After a few more quips concerning Ari’s lack of romantic stability, he’s gathered that Darren has, in fact, still not arrived or called. It is three minutes past the reservation time.

:Want me to come pick you up?

Ari is melodramatic sometimes.

:No. It’s only just time now.

:Okay, how long you gonna give him?

:He’s coming, you grump! He probably just primped enough for Versailles.

:One more drink then?

To prove your point you do order another and Darren’s preferred style of beer from the list. It’s thoughtful, and you have every faith he’s coming. Your nerves are just making you overreact.

Those aren’t nerves; they are instincts. They scream at you for the whole other half hour you wait.

You can sense Ari wanting to gloat so you stop answering while you watch a beer go flat across the table and see red petals brown at the edges in real-time.

Finally, a text from Darren pops up.

His ex was waiting at his place when he got home.

He’s sorry.

He’s fucking sorry.

You’re trying not to have a very public meltdown, and he’s sorry?

All you text Ari is a bunch of exclamations, and he calls immediately.

You answer but don’t speak, afraid your voice will shake and break. 

“Kid, what’s wrong?” Ari waits through very rough background noise. “Please tell me he showed up and I don’t have to do this.”

You cover your nose and mouth to sniffle as inconspicuously as possible. “Do what?”

“Is he there?”

“No.” The word is watery and pathetic.

“You wanna go home?”

Tears are starting to escape despite your best efforts. “I’ve had two drinks on an empty stomach. I don’t think I’m in any shape to get on a bus.”

“Ok,” he says before hanging up the phone, and it’s a good thirty seconds of you hyperventilating in an attempt to dial Ari back before you see steel-toed boots align with your heels over the side of the chair.

Your hazy gaze rakes up a very tall man in dark jeans and a dress shirt—well, as dressy of a shirt as Ari Levinson owns.

“Hey,” he mutters with a smile.

The tension in your chest boils over, face cracking into an ugly sob because he’s here. The perpetual anti-Valentine hauled ass across town for you…and you’ve had no food with alcohol.

“Okay, alright,” Ari hushes, kneeling down so you can bury your face in his (thankfully dark) shirt. The hug masks that you are not happy from other patrons, and his position seems to give a few onlookers the wrong idea.

A few people start clapping. Others join in and start ‘aww’ing you. They think Ari’s just proposed to you, and he stiffens in your arms.

“For the record, this is why I don’t do this shit,” he says in your ear, making to pull away until you grip tighter.

“Just one more second,” you blubber. You’re not quite ready to be seen, and there are still people watching.

He rubs your back for as long as it takes. By the time you release him and Ari can slide into the seat he pulls to be beside you, not across from you, the waiter returns with a tight but genuine smile.

“Let me refresh this drink for you, sir. One moment.”

Ari’s brows go up when he realizes the man means to get him a completely new glass of beer. That’s way better service than either of you is used to.

When the waiter sets down the replacement, he asks if you are ready to order, and Ari tilts his head in your direction.

“Lady’s choice. She’s been staring at the menu long enough.” He sweeps a large thumb over your wet cheek once then takes a swig of beer while you pick apps and entreés.

“Damn,” he mutters once the waiter’s gone. “That’s really fucking good.” Ari takes another refreshing gulp. “Don’t ever tell Dickhead I said that.”

“I don’t think I’ll be saying much of anything to Darren…” Your joke doesn’t ring so true when your voice wavers like that, but Ari nods in understanding.

He runs his hand through his long hair and leans back in the chair before someone bumps right into him.

“Sorry,” the shocked patron says.

Ari smirks, looking around. “I guess I messed up the seating arrangement by being the only one to want to sit close to their date, huh?”

He drags the chair back to the opposite side from you but reaches out his hand.

“You okay, kid?”

His palm is warm, his fingers strong and comforting when they give yours a squeeze.

Wiping your other cheek, you nod and mumble that you just need to freshen up in the bathroom.

He still smirks. “Don’t take too long, they’ll find out I don’t belong and body-snatch me.”

Ari doesn’t just make dinner tolerable; he turns it into a laugh-riot you have to smother cackling over the entire time. He plays this game, a game where he finds a couple and makes up elaborate stories of their relationships and what they’re saying. Of course, it’s all horrible, but it’s what you need to hear right now. You need the failed holiday cheer.

After he loses your fork battle for the last tiny bite of an overly tiny dessert, Ari set his open palm on the table again.

“Baby,” he rumbles in a desperately sexy voice, eyes turned up at you through his lashes.

He waits for you to take his hand, biting his lower lip, clearly trying not to laugh, but the picture is still your hairy, weird, wonderful best friend.

“Will you…split the check with me?”

You can’t help it. You snort-laugh right in his face, slapping your free hand down on the tablecloth before racing to cover your mouth.

You nod furiously.

He’s just so honest and so stupid and so, so perfect. He salvaged everything about this night—hell, about this whole relationship—and the least you can do is lift some burden from him, too.

“Let me buy you dinner, old man. My treat.”

Ari stands up slightly from his chair, lifting your hand to his lips and kissing your knuckles. His beard tickles. You squirm in your seat at the sensation.

“My hero,” he preens, and you jerk your hand away.

“Oh, stop,” you flash back, “you’re buying the pizza on our way home though. I know you’re still hungry, Ari.”

It’s his turn to cover his laugh. You know him too well.

He starts to roll his shirt sleeves back down in preparation for walking out into the chillier night. He’s overly adoring while you handle the bill, playing the damsel to your Green Knight, but it only makes you laugh harder. At least he saves the joke about having to 'put out' for after the door closes and the hostess can’t overhear.

Ari tosses his arm over your shoulder and rubs some warmth into your under-layered skin. “I think we might have ruined me for cheap beer now though.” 

Your head snaps up to see sparkling blue eyes, shoving him in the ribs lightly. “That’s a you problem! I’m not your sugar mama.”

He gives a cheeky scratch to his beard before petting it smooth. “Aww, honey, just let an old man have his delusions, huh?”

You two jostle and joke all the way to his truck and then continue, as you always have, all the way to a late-night snack.

Again, apologies for really screwing up my taglists. Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

[Next Part]

@supraveng @patzammit

[Light Masterlist; Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#ro answers #bedrock and blueprints #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #valentine's fic #best friends to lovers

[sims4rococo]

The Belvedere Pavilion at Versailles was built for Marie-Antoinette, who made use of the octagonal building as a music room. Under her instructions, the pavilion was designed in the newly popular neoclassical style, with its landscaped garden reflecting the passion for English gardens at the time. The pavilion’s architectural lines show a classical balance of proportion, and its interior reflects a studied refinement with its sculpture and the richness of its paintings. Over the centuries, the interiors and exteriors of the Belvedere suffered from aging materials and lack of maintenance. In recent decades, the exterior was threatened by impaired drainage systems that allowed rain to stream along the façade and reach the lower parts of the building. Moss and lichen grew on the surfaces and some elements of the decorative balustrades were lost. The interior also showed cracks along the walls and on the floor.

#sims 4 #versailles #rococó #felixandre #architecture #petit trianon #marie antoinette #ts4cc #baroque #gardens

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Entangled sombres🎭🧛‍♀️

Edward x fem reader

Synopsis: Twas the night of the Venetian carnival at the palace of Versialles, y/n's encounter with the infamous Edward Cullen leads to a strange phenomenon of events.

Warning: none

A/n: If possible, please feel free to comment and reblog as it always helps me as a writer to improve and get inspired.

The annual Venetian masquerade ball at the Palace of Versailles was a grand affair attended by both ladies and gentlemen. The halls and gardens echoed with the sounds of laughter and lively conversation. The ladies wore exquisite robe a la Francaises and elegant robe a l’anglaises, made of fine silks in floral, royal, and regal colours. Men wore rich, extravagant, full-skirted knee-length coats adorned with frills and buckled shoes. Elaborate wigs adorned their heads, styled in a variety of fashions. The gentlemen sported cavalier-style powdered wigs with lovelocks decorated with ribbons and bows, while some opted for simpler styles with a single ribbon tied at the back. The ladies' hair was styled in various ways, including la pouffes, beignets, coiffures, and chenilles. They wore extravagant and prodigious Venetian masks adorned with feathers and ribbons. The identity of who one was was a mystery among the crowd. The Venetian masquerade’s purpose was for one to indulge themselves in desire and greed without exposure. Within the group, masses gathered to dance and participate in alcohol. Amidst the jovial laughter of the gathering, a lone figure stood in the corner, garbed in a full-skirted coat of sombre black. Though his attire was not as finely crafted as his male counterparts, he maintained a stoic composure, observing the scene with a quiet intensity. He wore a simple, laced Venetian mask that only partially covered his eyes. The man's eyes, visible through his mask, were an unusual golden colour instead of the typical hue.

Staring at the crowd of drunken, jovial attendants, he heard their voices, their thoughts.

“I shall have a rendezvous evening with that mistress.”

“Such a fetching gent”.

The ominous man took off without a word; he couldn’t stand the whole façade of the alluring illusion of wicked cravings and sinful desires surrounding him. He trailed up the stairs, his hand touching the rail decorated in gold. With each step he took, his mind felt more at ease as the crowd’s thoughts had finally ceased. Peace at last. He stopped at the foot of a marble golden-coated rococo door painted with cherubs. Curiously, he placed his ear to the door, wondering if anyone was inside. With no answer, he entered—unassuming to the lady he was greeted with. The room was covered in paintings and finely rich furniture. In the middle of the room was a platter of Turkish delights and cakes with chocolate. His eyes were met with a young lady lying on the couch, holding a hand fan holding it to her plump lips. She drew the hand fan to her lips, curious at the gent who intruded on her. The attire she donned was a graceful sack-back gown adorned with a delightful blue floral pattern. To complete the ensemble, she wore a petticoat waistcoat, adding a touch of elegance to her overall appearance. Her hair was done in a bun style, with a single curled lock touching her shoulder. A Colombina mask in the design of a swan adorned with ribbons covered her face.

The man who barged in by mistake shook his head in embarrassment. “I’m sorry—forgive me, I’m new here. Are you here for the Venetian carnival?”.

The young woman lowered her fan so the dorsal point touched the upper tip of her lips. “Y/n, Tis y/n.” She smiled in a flirtatious manner.

“Since you—oh so—unkindly barged into my accommodation, you must pry me on your name and business,” Y/n spoke with pursed lips.

“Edward, Edward Cullen." He spoke politely but with a hint of humility.

“Edward, you’re quite an unusual gent.�� She sat up while lifting her legs in the air, revealing her silk stockings and patterned heels. “For I’m doting upon your eyes of unusual colour, quite a golden hue”.

 Y/n’s compliment took Edward aback. He didn’t smile at her gracious words but kept his cold gaze. “No, don't ever consider me stunning; I’m not the kind of guy you should be…going for”.

“You don’t know a thing about me; I’m not a good person, y/n.” Edward’s voice showed a genuine tone of guilt.

“If the world were full of good, then we wouldn’t have things such as this,” Y/n mischievously smiled.

Edward felt reassured, but the young woman didn't understand. He harboured a dark secret. He wasn’t like the rest surrounding the streets going about their daily lives. His family had lived differently; they only went out on rainy or dark days. The Cullen family was notorious, with rumours circulating in courts and towns in France and England. It was said that the Cullens hailed from a small plot of land in Forks purchased by their patriarch, Carlisle Cullen. Lord Carlisle's origins are little known, but he may have come from Italy. He married a woman who was known for her beauty, Lady Esme Cullen.

The pair had decided to adopt only, not children, teenagers. At the tender age of eighteen, the first was a daughter with a remarkable beauty that charmed suitors from distant lands. Her grace and elegance were unparalleled, and many hopefuls sought her hand in marriage. Despite the numerous proposals, she steadfastly refused them, holding out for a love that would surpass all others. Legend has it that her hair was as radiant as the golden hue of honey, and her complexion was as pure and fair as freshly fallen snow. Her eyes, which shone with an unusual and alluring golden tint, made her even more captivating. Not long before, she discovered love with a man who hailed from a noble family in Gatlinburg, Tennessee; the two of them grew inseparable, and eventually, she took on her spouse's family name, Cullen. Her husband, Emmett, was a strapping and dashing young man who was just twenty-two years old. He was known for prowess in clandestine fighting circles, where he always emerged victorious.

The couple's second adopted daughter, Alice Cullen, was a young adult of nineteen years who was renowned for her peculiar persona. With her vast, feline-like gaze and ever-changing, avant-garde hairstyles, she exuded a certain enigmatic allure that captivated those around her. Her fashion sense was equally impressive, as she effortlessly donned the most fashionable attire. Regrettably, some individuals perceived her as odd and wrongly accused her of dabbling in witchcraft and sorcery. However, Alice's abilities were exceptional, as she possessed the gift of foresight, enabling her to predict one's future accurately. She wedded a naval officer named Jasper Hale, who was in the front. Those who met him personally aren’t fond of him; he was a relatively quiet young man who spoke only when needed. He had blond hair tied back with a delicate silk ribbon, whilst his skin was similar to Rosalie's. According to the accounts of those who knew him, Jasper was reputed to be a man of high moral principles and integrity in his earlier years. He was known to have had a relatively brief romantic relationship with Maria before his involvement with Alice. However, rumours at the time suggested that Maria was somewhat dubious and may have been involved in certain occult practices or dark magic. Given Jasper's eventual transformation, there was speculation about the potential implications of his change in character. When around Alice, his old self would come to light. They attended many galas and balls, waltzing in the moonlight instead of entering the building.

Then, the final child was Edward Cullen, a seventeen-year-old gent who was distant and cold. He never formed relationships or friendships with anyone who wasn’t his family. Many ladies fancied Edward but were intimidated by his mysterious demeanour. He never stepped outside in the sunlight; many theorised it was a rare condition or a disease. They never dared ask, fearing he might lash out.

He found the young woman to be a mystery. He possessed a unique ability to hear the thoughts of those around him, which can be helpful but also annoying when he wants to focus on his thoughts. He attempted to listen for any words or sentences coming from her impure mind, but to his surprise, he heard nothing.

The young woman grinned excitedly and asked, “Well, Sir Cullen, the hour passes swiftly; tis rather rude not to ask a lady for a dance”.

Feeling timid, Edward complied with her inquisitive demeanour and gracefully inclined his body, extending a hand towards her. "I humbly request the honour of this dance, Y/n," he uttered softly. Y/n curtsied gracefully, holding a fan to the left side of her face. Her fingers delicately intertwined with his hand. As she grasped lightly, a slight shiver went down y/n’s spine. It felt like she had dipped her fingers in the Icey waters of a frozen lake. Y/n and Edward held one hand in the air, moving fluently in a circle. Suddenly, the classical music playing down below changed its tune. Y/n and Edward switched arms as soon as they heard the first note.

They only repeated the same movement, moving in a circle, and y/n slightly skipped. They repeated the same direction, but this time, Y/n had a mischievous grin when they switched arms. Y/n skipped in circles, flicking her skirt with one hand out to the side. She added an extra clap to the rhythm during the song's sudden pauses in beats. She skipped in a circle as the violin's rhythm picked up. Edward followed, adding his steps and skips. When the two came to the middle once more and stopped, they stepped to the side out and came in with a twirl, switching sides. Once more, they repeated this move. She delicately took hold of Edward's hand with a gentle touch, gracefully spinning away from him.

As she twirled, she kicked one foot elegantly to the left, adding a touch of flair to her movements. Edward looped to the opposite side and clapped. The two then spun back into the middle as they returned to their first position. As Y/n and Edward danced, the violin's sound filled the room. Y/n's hand tapped against her skirt in time with the music, adding to the rhythm of their steps. As they moved in a circle, Edward couldn't help but steal a glance at Y/n. Her eyes were full of playful amusement yet still held an air of mystery, making him wonder what thoughts were swirling through her mind. Edward stopped coming in close to y/n, and he spun her around.

Y/n was in an utter fantasy; never had she met any gent this fascinating. Many suitors had courted her, yet none could catch her attention. Edward was far more entrancing than any duke, lord or aristocrat who had tried to woo her.

Alas, all good things do come to an end. As y/n twirled she glanced deeper into Edwards's alluring eyes and what she saw caught her off guard. She screamed when she saw his eyes turning from a beautiful aureate hue into a void of darkness. She covered her hands over her mouth in panic. “Good god your eyes, they changed into the black of night” she panicked slightly. Edward, baffled, retreated, and lost all sense of comfort. He moved in a way that appeared to be beyond human capability to the door. She acted impulsively and reached out to grasp Edward's hand in a fleeting moment of connection. Though he paused briefly in response, he ultimately opted to depart silently to avoid attracting undue attention to their interaction. “Edward, what are you” she muttered.

With two words he coldly said, “a monster”.

And with that, he left without any fuss, he fastened the pace leaving y/n in a bewildered state. She stood at the entrance with the rococo-decored door opened widely. As she contemplated the gravity of the situation, a thought occurred to her - why didn't he just kill her straight away? Nevertheless, she observed a genuine expression on his face and discerned that he was experiencing warmth and tenderness towards someone for the first time. A sense of serenity seemed to envelop him. Y/n inched closer to the door and scanned the dancing crowd below, but she couldn't discern the presence of Edward Cullen. She struggled to reconcile the bizarre events that had just transpired and couldn't shake off the feeling that it was all an elaborate dream. She picked up the skirtings of her gown slowly trailing down the stairs as her heels reached each step. Further, she trailed to the entrance, ignoring all the ladies chattering and gents asking for a dance. Upon leaving the Palace of Versailles, she found the gardens deserted except for the rustling of leaves in the wind.

As she lifted her gaze towards the vast expanse of the moonlit sky, her heart filled with a sense of longing, as she pondered whether fate would ever bring her back in the company of Edward.

Anyways that's all I have for now:

Ta Ta ✨

#edward cullen x reader #edward oneshot #edward cullen #twilight x reader #twilight oneshot #twilight au #18th century fanfic #edward cullen x y/n

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Sans Souci Palace

Hi gouys! This is the Sans Souci Palace, located in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

This house is set to be in a 64x64 Lot. You will need all cc from The Jim, Felixandre, SYB, Marble Mortal, GSsims, etc. It is the usual content I use for my houses.

I made the third floor but it is not completed. In fact, the residence does not have this 3rd floor, but the roof looked weird w/o it.

Some history:

The Sans Souci Palace, located in Victoria, is undoubtedly one of the architectural landmarks not only of San Fernando but also of the northern region. This December marks 100 years since its official inauguration. Its history is intertwined with the history of the neighborhood, and its construction marked a turning point in the urban vision of the district's waterfront.

To briefly recount its history, we can go back to 1911 when the Alvear siblings, Carlos María, Josefina, and Elisa, married to Mercedes Elortondo, Matías Errázuriz, and Ernesto Bosch, respectively, traveled to Paris, France, in search of an architect to design their residences on the embankments of the area. The three couples chose the trendy architect of the time: René Sergent, considered the best in neoclassical and Versailles-style architecture.

The French architect also built the Bosch Palace in Buenos Aires, which serves as the official residence of the United States ambassador, and the Errázuriz Palace, now the Museum of Decorative Arts. The Sans Souci palace, owned by Carlos María de Alvear and his family, was the last of the three projects to be designed.

In 1914, the builders Eduardo Lanús and Pablo Hary laid the foundation stone of the Palace on the land inherited by Alvear's wife in Victoria, San Fernando. In December 1918, it was officially inaugurated.

Its four facades are made of imitation stone. The stairs are made of Paris marble, while the rest of the details and finishes, although they appear to be genuine, are imitations. The imitation marble was created by Swiss craftsmen from the Italian canton who were specialists in this technique. All the carpentry in the Sans Souci Palace was made of Slavonian oak. The doors were painted to imitate the wood grain, giving them identical marks.

The gardens, which initially covered 9 hectares, were designed by the French landscape architect Carlos Thays. During the construction of the Palace, Alvear tried to buy the neighboring property belonging to the Lanusse family with the intention of demolishing it and expanding his garden. However, the Lanusse family never agreed, so a huge wall was built. Thays not only organized the garden but also planted a group of trees to hide the large wall, making it appear as though the house extended further.

(From https://www.quepasaweb.com.ar/100-anos-palacio-sans-souci-san-fernando/)

DOWNLOAD HERE: patreon.com/user?u=75230453

#sims 4 architecture #sims 4 build #sims4palace #sims4 #sims 4 screenshots #sims4play #sims 4 historical #sims4building #sims 4 royalty #sims4frencharchitecture #ts4 #ts4 build #ts4 screenshots #the sims 4 #sims 4

[pwlanier]

Usachev A.A. "Blue Forest" BG23 Cardboard, oil.

Anatoly Andreyevich Usachev. Born in 1914, on April 23 in Orenburg in the family of a railway worker. The young man went to Moscow. In 1940, he graduated from the Architectural Institute and received the first prize from the Union of Architects from the hands of Professor Shchusev. He fought. During the war, being in the engineering troops, he participated in combat operations on the Western, Don, Stalingrad and Southern fronts. He was awarded 14 orders and medals. After the war, he worked in various architectural workshops. I gave my free time to drawing. Since 1977, he has devoted himself only to oil painting. The main theme of his paintings is the nature near Moscow and flowers are performed in a gentle joyful color. The picturesque manner of writing is diverse from purely realistic to impressionistic and avant-garde. Individual style can be traced in each work, gradually evolving towards a light, fantasy element filled with deep expressiveness. His paintings are saturated with a sincere and chaste sense of admiration for the greatness of the natural world. He has painted more than 3,000 paintings, many of which decorate a number of public places, and are also in museums and private collections in England, Germany, France, Canada, Australia, Georgia, Armenia and Russia. In the 1990s, the work of A.A. Usacheva was sold at auctions Paris-Drouot Richelieu, Limoges-Hotel des ventes, Arsenal-Metz, Roubaix, Versailles-Hotel Rameau, etc. He died in 1998.

Art Molotov

[fashionbooksmilano]

The Windsor Style

Suzy Menkes

Grafton Books, London 1987, 224 pages, 22,5x28,5cm, ISBN 9780246132123

euro 90,00

email if you want to buy [email protected]

Looks at the postwar life of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor in their Paris mansion and describes their jewels, clothing, and household furnishings

Whether you like them or not, you have to admit that the Duke and Duchess of Windsor had amazing personal style that extended from their wardrobes to their homes.  The stories about their dinner parties make you realize that no one lives as elegantly today except perhaps Mr. Valentino and some European royalty.  It was a different time when table linens were embroidered to match each separate set of china.  This is a look at their last home at 4 route du Champ d’Entraînement in the Bois de Boulogne.  The Windsors took over the house from General de Gaulle in 1953 and it was decorated with the help of Stephane Boudin.  After the death of the Duchess much of their French furniture was donated to Versailles and Mohammad al-Fayad bought and restored the house which had seen better days.

29/10/23

#Windsor Style #Suzy Menkes #Duke & Duchess Windsor #Paris mansion #jewels #clothing #household furnishing #wardrobes #designbooksmilano #fashion books #fashionbooksmlano

[enigma-naturae]

My personal Asmodeus headcanons

Authors note: Sorry for not making anything in a while. school is beating my ass :(

Cw: slight body imagery

I personally think that Asmo is genderfluid

I think it would be cool if Asmo also had the ability to shape shift so he could present himself in a more masculine or feminine manor

Definitely listens to Lady Gaga

Has the closet to prove it

also listens to Karol G (just look at him and tell me with a straight face he doesn't listen to Karol G)

HAS TO WEAR PINK ON WEDNESDAYS

His favorite movie is either Jennifer's Body or the Craft (basically any type of 90's/2000's teenage girl movie)

I think Asmo would have a very cluttered and decorated room but its still very neat (idk if that makes sense lol)

Can and will make you binge watch the entire movie series of Twilight if he wants to

Has a flip phone with custom ringtone, charms, and everything

Shit spice tolerance

I think he would be a collector

He would mainly collect monster high, bratz, and pulip dolls

Def Levi's go-to when it comes to limited edition Ruri-chan dolls

Has faint freckles and stretch marks ( I WILL DIE ONE THIS HILL)

Uses an unhealthy amount of emojis 😔

Has random beef with demons online

Has a Rose of Versailles art style

Loves having spa days with you

If your feeling burned out or stressed he'll give you a royal spa treatment

I'm talking manipedis, skincare, warm bath (he respects your boundaries so he'll only join you if you want to)

LOVES to spoil you

Has a great eye when it comes to finding things that match your aesthetic

Usually tries to uphold an image of perfection but with you he lets his guard down

Whenever he's with you he lets the real him out since he knows that it's safe and you'll never judge him <3

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me headcanons #obey asmodeus headcanons #obey me asmo headcanons #novella

[lookismaddict]

My 3rd Dream of Gun Park✨

GOOD MORNING!! OK SOOO… I had another weird dream with Gun in it. Three times the charm, right? 😭 (SORRY, I HAD TO DELETE THE PREV POST BC I REALIZED I ACCIDENTALLY PUT “Post” INSTEAD OF “Save”. I’m dumb 😓) AND WHY IS IT ALWAYS HIM IN MY DREAM? I MEAN, I’M NOT MAD ABOUT IT BUT AT LEAST PUT SOMEONE ELSE IN IT FOR ONCE. Like Goo, or Jake, or EVEN SAMUEL. Alright, but this time, he isn’t being a total butt. He was actually nicer. A LOT nicer than the last dream I had with him in it. This was what he was wearing:

But his hair wasn’t fixed like that. It was the other hairstyle that had his hair parted onto one side. For some reason, he decided to buy me a ticket to go see an American hockey game at night. I’m not even a hockey fan btw and I wasn’t even interested whatsoever. But, I decided to go with him because I’ve never seen one either. He wanted to go because he was curious to see what was the appeal for Americans to watch a sport where they use sticks to score points for a team. (This was because Goo mentioned this to him before during work and he found it ridiculous. He should’ve thought about croquet too. They use mallets or something, I don’t know.) The ticket that he got for me were FRONT SEAT TICKETS TOO!!! LIKE WTH??? Big flex, but ok…? 💀💀💀 Honestly, I was getting interested in the game but on his end, he seemed kind of bored. TOO bored. It wasn’t even half-way into the game, and he already wanted to bail. I felt his hand slid onto mine as he gave it a tight squeeze before standing up from his seat and said, “Let’s go.” Confused, I got up as well and followed right behind him out of the arena with his grip still on my hand. Once we got outside of the arena, he dragged me away from the parking lot where I was expecting him to take me back to his car, but we were heading around the back of the arena. “Gun, where are we going?! Isn’t the car the other way around?!” With one swift pull, my back landed against the wall and he planted his hands strongly on both of my sides. Anxiously, I looked at both of my sides and asked nervously, “W-what the hell do you think you’re doing…?” When Gun’s face leaned in closer, he whispered, “What do you think I’m doing?” My eyes widened in surprise as I gasped and asked him loudly, “ARE YOU SERIOUS?! HERE OF ALL PLACES?!” Gun put his index finger onto his lips briefly, hushing me to be quiet. “If you stay quiet, then this could work.” Blushing furiously, I hissed at him saying, “Are you crazy?! Why do you want to do it here? Couldn’t this wait until later? I thought we have somewhere to go after this!” Gun chuckled mischievously as he replied with, “Dinner can wait. We’re too early anyways, so we still have a lot of time to kill.” Scrunching my eyebrows in disbelief, I answered, “But what if we get caught?” Gun shook his head with that foxy grin still displayed on his face. “We won’t.” I looked at him skeptically until he repeated himself once more. “Trust me, we won’t. If you stay quiet, then we won’t.” You protest again saying, “Ok, but what if-” However, the rest of my words were silenced with an unexpected kiss. From the night sky above, the moon revealed itself from the dark clouds that was previously shrouding it, shining moonlight down onto me and Gun. The nightshade illuminated Gun’s handsome facial features underneath the moon’s wakening. With my arms wrapping around his neck over his shoulders, entangling onto his soft hair from behind his head, I pulled him closer, letting the night naturally take us wherever this might go…

*FAST FORWARD TO ABOUT AN HOUR LATER*

Gun and I managed to arrive at the place where we were supposed to have dinner at. The restaurant was painted in light pink carnation walls and decorated with gold plated trinkets, but the atmosphere was harboring romanticism, with its dimmed French-styled chandeliers suspended up above wherever I went, as if I was walking through the Palace of Versailles. Thank god, we both made it in time after [CENSORED]. We were both seated at a table with a romantic display of a vase holding a flower bouquet of roses placed at the side of the table, with a small candle flickering softly beside it. Once the two of us took our orders, the waiter left us alone for us to exchange words about our earlier escapade.

“How was it?”

“How was… what?”

He smirked at my obliviousness, as if I had forgotten that we [CENSORED]. While I was observing the flowers, I realized what he was talking about, as my head slowly turned towards him with my face gradually shifting to an embarrassed caricature.

“And you’re going to bring that up… NOW?”

With that devilishly attractive grin of his, he took a sip out of his tea. Before setting it down in such a sophisticated manner, he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair with pride plastered on his face.

“What? You didn’t enjoy it? Last time I remembered, you were-”

Already dying in embarrassment, I quickly leaned over the table and clasped my hand over his mouth to prevent him from continuing any further.

“Just shut up, will you?!”

I felt his hand gently grab onto my hand that was covering his mouth then slowly pulled it away from himself, relieving himself from my sudden abruptness. With a “Hmph.” I returned back to my seat and crossed my arms in return.

With his right arm now resting on the arm rest of his fancy chair, he leaned and rested the side of his head onto the back of his hand, while observing my very movements. Admiring my physical facial features, my facial expressions, and my eyes bashfully averting his over the candlelight, he gave me a warm smile.

“Every time, you never fail to amuse me.”

With my eyes now glaring at him, I said through gritted teeth, “Shut up and just wait for the damn food to come…”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, until the food arrived. The majority of the time when we ate together, we conversed in various topics about each other’s lives. How was work? How was school? Is work treating you well? (“Of course it isn’t. It’s Goo, we’re talking about.”) By having dinner and talking about the little things with this simple-minded man before me, was already enough to make me feel contentment. His constant complaints made me laugh, which made him admire my happy face over dinner. Leaving him feeling satisfied over a wonderful and successful night out with me…

(Damn, that was a lot. I’m sorry that this became a long STORY TIME. 😅 Also, I’ll leave the censored parts to your imagination. 👀 Thanks for stopping by to read all of this. I wish you guys a good rest of your day!!! 🖤🖤🖤)

#Gun dream universe #WHY IS IT ALWAYS GUN OF ALL PEOPLE TO BE IN MY DREAMS??? 💀 #my mind will be rotting over this dream today 😖 #lookism #lookismaddict #lookism webtoon #lookism thoughts #lookism gun #gun lookism #gun park #lookism park jonggun #park jonggun lookism #park jonggun #jonggun park #lookism jonggun

[hoonie98world]

DEOKSUGUNG SEOKJ0JEON HALL (PART 1)

덕수궁 석조전 (제 1부)

After 15 months of gradual but constant commitment, I finally completed this project!

Central Hall (중앙홀)

The main hall is a two-story structure space. It is the first space to enter when viewing. 

VIP Waiting Room (귀빈 대기실)

This is the right-side hall. It's the room visitors move into after touring the central hall. This room, where guests waited to be announced to the emperor, has the same interior design as the central hall, except it lacks decorative pillars. The left door is a fake designed to strictly adhere to the English neoclassical interior style characterized by strict symmetry and opens to reveal only a blank wall.

Visitors typically waited for the emperor's audience while enjoying biscuits, snacks, champagne, and so on, served by the royal household.

The waiting room has a console table, a regular table, a round table, four chairs, an armchair, and a display cabinet. Among these, the armchair and display cabinet are original pieces, while the rest are replicas recreated based on a catalogue commissioned from Maple Furniture Company at the time of construction.

Reception Room (접견실)

This is a room located above the central hall, and it is the largest room on the first floor. It is where the emperor held audiences.

Audiences involved the emperor being approached, bowing three times in greeting, and then departing backwards, which was quite bewildering and challenging for foreign envoys.

The most expensive item in the reception room was imported European wall mirrors. The Palace of Versailles in France had a Hall of Mirrors at its centre, as mirrors were incredibly expensive and extravagant luxury items of the time. Decorating the palace, the centre of both the court and France, with mirrors was a sophisticated political manoeuvre to diminish the pride of foreign envoys and secure France's diplomatic dominance by showcasing a grand gallery of mirrors. Mirrors were costly because only skilled artisans from Venice could produce them, and there are stories of considerable efforts made by France to acquire this technology. The mirrors in the Seokjojeon Hall reception room were imported directly from Europe, cut into decorative shapes, and transported very carefully over an extended period.

The ceiling in this space is lower compared to others, likely due to its settling during the Korean War.

The Small Dining Room (소식당)

The Small Dining Room is located to the left of the reception room. While it appears to have been a gathering place for the royal family for meals, it was actually a room where a few select guests had simple meals. Compared to the main dining hall, the dining table here is smaller, accommodating up to about 5 people at most. In one corner of the room, there is a cabinet for storing spoons, knives, and forks. The ivory tableware displayed there was reportedly acquired through an auction in England during the restoration period.

This room is unique among the others in its interior finish, featuring panelling made of English oak with a lacquered appearance.

The Grand Dining Room (대식당)

The Grand Dining Room is a dazzling space that captures the attention of visitors with its crystal chandelier, luxurious tablecloths, and tableware. Located to the left of the central hall, it was a space where Western-style banquets were served to participants after formal events. The room is adorned with a long dining table and multiple chairs.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #simblr #sims 4 #sims 4 custom content #sims 4 screenshots #the sims 4 cc #the sims cc #sims 4 palace #palace #architecture #building #sims 4 emperor #koreanempire #south korea #korean #joseon era #seokjojeon #deoksugung #sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 cc

[theunabashedepicurean]

Glorious Blythdunes, the French-style Palm Beach showplace of Jayne Wrightsman, doyen of New York society. Throughout her life, Mrs. Wrightsman was an avid collector of decorative arts from the ancien régime, amassing the finest private collection in the United States. Naturally then, when designing and decorating her new home, she retained the greatest tastemakers, including Stéphane Boudin, Henri Samuel and the Paris based firm Denning & Fourcade. I always find it so extraordinary that Mrs. Wrightsman had the parquet de Versailles from the Palais Royal in Paris lifted, transported across The Atlantic and installed at her beloved Blythedunes. #palmbeach #miami #florida #blythedunes #jaynewrightsman #artcollector #socialite #philanthropist #palmbeachflorida #interior #interiors #chinoiserie #chinesewallpaper #chinoiseriewallpaper #frenchdecorative #decorativearts #decorativeantiques #frenchdecorativeantiques #ancienregime #stephaneboudin #henrisamuel #denningandfourcade #decor #decoration #interiordesign #interiordesigner #interiordecor #interiordecoration #interiordecorating #interiordecorator (at Palm Beach, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpnb9rGIeqp/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#palmbeach #miami #florida #blythedunes #jaynewrightsman #artcollector #socialite #philanthropist #palmbeachflorida #interior #interiors #chinoiserie #chinesewallpaper #chinoiseriewallpaper #frenchdecorative #decorativearts #decorativeantiques #frenchdecorativeantiques #ancienregime #stephaneboudin #henrisamuel #denningandfourcade #decor #decoration #interiordesign #interiordesigner #interiordecor #interiordecoration #interiordecorating #interiordecorator

[russpals]

Peterhoff Palace Complex

Photographs: Different views of Peterhof, which, rather than one specific place, is an astoundingly beautiful complex of palaces, gardens, pavilions, and fountains. The photos here and the text are a mere preview of a fraction of the place in all its grandeur.

The Grand Palace, Lower and Upper Gardens and Fountains

The Peterhoff Palace (which comes from the Dutch "Pieterhof," meaning "Pieter's Court") is a complex of palaces, gardens, pavilions, and fountains located in Petergof, Saint Petersburg, Russia, commissioned by Peter the Great in response to Louis XIV Palace of Versailles in France.

Peter the Great began constructing his new capital, St. Petersburg, in 1703 after successfully adding Swedish provinces to Russian territory.  Saint Petersburg allowed Russian access to the Baltic Sea through the Neva River that flowed to the Gulf of Finland.

Throughout the early 18th century, Peter the Great built and expanded the Peterhof Palace complex. Based on his sketches, he constructed the Monplaisir Palace (French: "my delight"). This would be Peter's summer retreat that he would use on his way coming and going from Europe. Later, he expanded his plans to include a group of palaces and gardens further inland, on the model of Versailles.

Most of the Peterhoff land is comprised of what is called the "Lower Gardens." In the middle of the lower gardens is the Grand Palace. The area behind this palace is the "Upper Gardens" and is comparatively smaller. The Grand Palace is not the only historic royal building in Peterhoff. The palaces of Monplaisir and Marli, as well as the pavilion known as the 'Hermitage,' were all raised during the initial construction of Peterhoff during the reign of Peter the Great.

There are a number of cascades and fountains through the grounds, which have various symbolic meanings and are in themselves great technological achievements. The greatest of these is that all of the fountains in Peterhoff operate without the use of pumps. Water is supplied from natural springs and collects in reservoirs in the Upper Gardens. The elevation difference creates the pressure that drives most of the fountains of the Lower Gardens.

Gothic Chapel in Peterhof:  An Orthodox church in the name of Saint Alexander Nevsky situated in the Alexandria Park; Nicholas I ordered its construction to complement the Cottage Palace

Alexandria Park, the Cottage Palace, and the Farmers Palace

To the east of the main park at Peterhof lies an expanse of landscaped parkland in the English style, named after Alexandra Fedorovna, wife of Nicholas I. The land was used as a royal hunting ground for most of the 18th century and left to go wild after the court moved to Tsarskoe Selo.

In 1825, the land was passed to Nicholas I, who commissioned a Scottish architect and landscape gardener to create an English-style estate with a "cottage" palace and home farm. This was partly a concession to Alexandra (nee Charlotte of Prussia), who found the pomp and grandeur of court life oppressive. Alexandra loved the cottage. The Cottage Palace was completed in 1829 and became the permanent summer residence of the Tsar's family. Alexandria Park is one of the best-landscaped parks on the outskirts of St. Petersburg.

The building is equal parts seaside villa, Gothic castle, and English farmhouse, but extremely elegant, with several charming decorative details. The palace's interiors exemplify the private tastes of Nicholas and Alexandra and their children and grandchildren. The spectacular trompe l'oeil murals around the staircase, depicting gothic arches and vaults, and Nicholas's Naval Study, with superb views over the Gulf of Finland, are particularly impressive.

The Farm Palace was initially a pavilion in Alexandria Park close to the Cottage Palace and Gothic Chapel. Meant to be a pastoral farm with a row of household buildings, it was later expanded into a summer residence for the family of Tsesarevich Alexander Alexandrovich of Russia. The palace became the favorite summer residence of Alexander II and his family. After many reconstructions, the house was named "The Farm Palace" in 1859. It would eventually be a favorite of Alexander III and Nicholas II.

The Lower Dacha at Peterhoff (badly damaged in World War II and destroyed in the 1960s) - in the process of reconstruction

The Lower Dacha was in Alexandria Park, part of the Peterhof complex created by Tsar Peter I in the early 18th century as an Imperial summer residence. The palace was the home of Tsar Nicholas II while in residence at Peterhof (it was built for him), and several of his children were born there. It was badly damaged during the Second World War and was destroyed in the 1960s. The Lower Dacha is in the process of being restored. It is expected that the restoration will be completed by 2025. The picture below where the intact building can be seen, is from the early twentieth century. Photographs of the ruins have been included as well.

#Peter the Great #Sweden #Finland #Upper Gardens #Lower Gardens #Mon Plaisir #Grand Peterhoff Palace #Great Samsom #Neva River #The Farm Palace #The Cottage #The Lower Dacha

[thegoldensanctuary]

Finally Back

After a 6 Month break I am finally back. The cause of my absence is the result of my obsession with continuously adding new items for my projects after each discovery, which ended up enlarging the original sope of my project in the end. In the end I decide to make the Queen's Bedchamber across two reigns : Louis XV with his Queen Marie Leczinska and Louis XVI with Marie Antoinette. In the meantime my laptop stopped functioning(for the same reason as the last one dysfunctional power outlet). It took me a very long time to identify the cause order pieces and eventually give up end send it for repairs.

But now I can finally confirm that the problems are over and that the set is almost finished(only a few extra swatches to implement).

Without further due here are some previews : Let's start with from the most familiar and slowly go to the more obscure :

Here is the Bedchamber in its summer decor as it was from 1786 to 1789, if you visit Versailles today this more or less how the room will look like(there is obviously the screen that is missing today and that I added since it is mentioned in the inventories)

Here is the bedchamber as it was at the same period with its winter decor , as you can see it was using back then the brocade that was used as reference for the one displayed in the King Bedchamber today(in fact that brocade was historically only used in the Queen bedchamber but never in the King's one).

Here is the bedchamber in its summer state as it used to be when Marie Antoinette stared occupying it from 1771 to 1785, as you can see the furnitures as at and transition style in between the Louis XV and the Louis XVI.

Here is the Bedchamber as it was in its summer state for its pervious inhabitant : Queen Marie Leczinska from 1745 to 1771.

And here its winter counterpart :

The final set will this evolution of styles between the 1740s up to the 1780s

And the items will also come with period accurate swatches, that were however never used in that bedchamber but could be useful to create your own palaces designs.

And those who subscribed to my patreon before will get the set for free when release even if they cancelled their subsriptions a while ago.

#sims custom content #sims 4 historical #sims4cc #sims4 #sims 4 royal cc #sims 4 custom content #sims4versailles #sims 4 cc #thesims4cc #sims 4 maxis match #thesims4maxismatch #thesims