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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1894. It’s time to join us and immerse yourself in scandal and drama interlaced with magic both light and dark.

Where will you fall?

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Did you know? Jewelry of jet was the haute jewelry of the Victorian era. — Fallin
What she got was the opposite of what she wanted, also known as the subtitle to her marriage.
all dolled up with you


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Paris is not a city
#17
Macnair was looking at him now, which was worse than looking at the floor. Ford hadn't liked seeing him so miserable, but there was a sense of pressure that came from being under his gaze that had been absent before. Macnair had asked him a question, but Ford didn't have an answer. Was it enough? He'd decided during the conversation with Noble that he couldn't be with Macnair if he was a bad father, because Ford didn't want to be in love with someone who was a bad person, but if he honestly believe that Macnair was a good person, did that change things? Macnair's intentions were good, but it was the impact that mattered — but maybe Ford wasn't qualified to judge what the impact would be, and what business did he have making himself and Macnair miserable over something he was just worried might happen? What if there were things at play he didn't understand yet, like he hadn't fully understood what Macnair meant about his marriage until just now?

Ford still hadn't found words, but he was sure his face looked just as conflicted as he felt. With his free hand he reached up to touch Macnair's cheek, brushing away some of the tears. Ford leaned in and kissed him tenderly. He had no idea what was going to happen next, or what he was eventually going to say in answer to Macnair's question, but he couldn't have sat there looking at Macnair only inches away with tears on his face any longer.


The following 1 user Likes Fortitude Greengrass's post:
   Valerian Macnair


Set by Lady!
#18
It wasn't an answer, but Valerian was all too willing to take it as one. He tugged their clasp hands towards him, unlacing their fingers so he could press Greengrass' hand against his waist. He wanted to be close, mostly because he was sad and wanted to believe that maybe this wasn't the end, but also because there was a little part of him that believed that overwhelming Greengrass with kisses and tender touches might make him forget that he'd been trying to break things off—or better yet, change his mind completely.

So he deepened the kiss and pulled Greengrass closer. He placed his hand on Greengrass' knee, his fingertips drawing higher up his thigh with each passing moment, while his other hand balled into the fabric of Greengrass' shirt at his chest, holding him in place.

"Let me love you," he murmured against Greengrass' lips, his fingertips drawing along the edge of Greengrass' belt, "Let me show you."



#19
That was the trouble with kisses; it was so easy to get carried away. It was so natural by now to let his hand settle around Macnair's waist that it didn't even register in his brain when Macnair moved his hand there. Ford was feeling the thrill of excitement from Macnair's fingers at his belt before he'd consciously thought about them there. This was dangerous, he knew. If they left off this conversation and slept together, they weren't going to pick it back up once they'd both finished. Maybe they'd talk about things in the morning, after they'd slept off the wine and the haze of orgasms in each other's arms, but more likely they wouldn't. Macnair didn't like to have hard conversations if they could be avoided, and Ford wasn't sure he'd have the guts to bring it up if it meant ruining the morning the way that he'd ruined tonight. Which meant they might continue on like this, an uncomfortable stasis, for days or weeks before they had the conversation again and found some actual resolution to it. And of course, there was the alternative: they could be found out. Although the pregnancy was still the foremost concern in Ford's mind, he couldn't discount the conversation he'd had with Cash. Ford had always known this was a risk, but he'd thought he'd be able to mitigate it. Now he knew better; now he knew not to trust himself when there were feelings involved.

On the other hand, it wasn't as though this kiss had helped Ford figure out what he wanted to say, and neither of these potential topics was easy to talk about. Maybe putting a pause in this discussion wasn't the worst thing in the world. It would be better to think through things and have something sincere to say than to speak from emotion in the spur of the moment, wouldn't it?

And, of course, he wanted to say yes. He wanted Macnair to love him. He wanted to bask in it the whole rest of the evening, soak it all in and hold it close to his chest so that he would never forget what it felt like. He was going to lose it sooner or later, one way or another. They were going to end things, or they were going to be discovered, but neither was necessarily going to happen tonight. Couldn't they have one more night? Ford had kept repeating it's not fair when he talked to Cash, and it still wasn't. Nothing would make it fair, but didn't he deserve at least tonight?

"I want you," he muttered, as he started to slip off one of his shoes with his toe. He started to reach for Macnair's buttons but hesitated, unsure if it was wise to commit to this and knowing very well he wouldn't stop himself if either of them were undressed. "I love you," he said, leaning in to kiss Macnair on the edge of his jaw and trying to think about this logically, pushing through the haze of desire.

Except maybe he didn't want to do that after all, because logically there was only one answer, and it wasn't the one that his body or his heart wanted.

He kissed Macnair's neck.

He was going to be alone forever. He was never going to marry because he couldn't afford a family of his own, and while he still had sisters to look after he couldn't risk having an affair like this — not if, despite his best efforts at discretion, Lestrange had still figured it out and thought he needed to warn him about being careful. Maybe Macnair would find someone else, eventually. If his relationship with his wife really was so different, her expectations so low, he could do this with anyone. Someone who didn't have a family depending on them. Someone for whom the stakes were lower. Macnair could move on, but this was it for Ford. This was the end. Tonight was all he had.

"Love me," he said, moving back up to kiss Macnair on the lips again. "Show me."




Set by Lady!

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