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Welcome to Charming, the year is now 1895. 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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Braces, or suspenders, were almost universally worn due to the high cut of men's trousers. Belts did not become common until the 1920s. — MJ
Had it really come to this? Passing Charles Macmillan back and forth like an upright booby prize?
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don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through
#2
He’d been waiting for this day for…what seemed like years. It had been years, hadn’t it? And yet it only seemed like yesterday when Dionisia had caught them in Ben’s bedroom. He couldn’t forget that day no matter how hard he’d tried, short of paying someone to modify his memory. But to do that, it’d take a skilled obliviator, and even then Ben just couldn’t bring himself to erase the last moments he’d felt Ari’s skin beneath his fingers, his breath at the shell of his ear, or how the air had been thrumming with an energy it seemed only they could create.

So on those nights when it had become all too much, when the dreams plagued him like a never-ending fog, Ben had taken to drinking sleeping draughts. It took the sting off, but never wiped away the memory. And even knowing that he had an invitation to see Ari now at East Staple House, Ben felt a different kind of energy buzzing around him as he walked up the stairs. It was such a cruel, impersonal building, he thought; nothing but harsh lines and gray stone on the outside, or at least that’s how he’d imagined it and how it would stay in his head. But the inside of the hospital had the trappings of a much warmer atmosphere, one that quelled the images of Ari barricaded in here with nothing but a thin sheet for comfort.

He’d wanted to bring things of course, but knew they would get taken away in an instant. With a small smile at the receptionist, he signed in and waited to be escorted back to Ari’s room. Ben barely heard the nurse as she motioned for him to follow her. Barely heard the small talk that she made as they walked down the hallway. His heart thudded in his chest, in his throat, in his palms, everywhere as the door opened and he got the first look at Ari, reading on the bed looking for all the world…completely fine. He didn’t look agonized, didn’t look tortured, or like they were neglecting him. He looked like Ari.

Ben’s hands had been stuck in fists at his side. He flexed both of them now, shifting his weight. Angled a smile that didn’t say enough, didn’t hold enough of what he wanted it to, didn’t convey how much he had fucking missed Ari. It was only after a few moments of taking in the man before him that Ben realized it was his turn to speak. “I —” He cleared his throat. “That I did.” He returned, clasping his hands together. “I hope that’s alright...”


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Messages In This Thread
don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through - by Ari Fisk - January 23, 2025 – 1:12 AM
RE: don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through - by Benedict Sterling - February 20, 2025 – 11:29 PM
RE: don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through - by Ari Fisk - March 23, 2025 – 8:44 PM
RE: don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through - by Benedict Sterling - March 30, 2025 – 4:45 AM
RE: don't make me any promises, just promise we're not through - by Ari Fisk - April 26, 2025 – 10:19 PM
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