#callum jewel

[slumberingrose-fandom]

Happy birthday Asmodeus!!

[regalfairytaleacademy]

RFA Staffs & Supporting OCs' Seiyuu

Staffs

Annabelle Paragon - Ayaki Takagaki

Elaina Camilla - Asami Seto

Athena Palladium - Yumiri Hanamori

Alexandria Layton - Kikuko Inoue

Adonis Roseo Avalon - Tomoaki Maeno

Rory Magnus - Nobuhiko Okamoto

Laurel Draconahearts - Miyuki Sawashiro

Caroline Ringelblume - Maaya Uchiha

Callum Jewel - Akira Ishida

➽──────────────❥

Supporting OCs

Cynthia Ryu - Ikue Otani

Mariella Edward-James - Megumi Han

[whoworewhatjewels]

Who Wore What Jewels Weekly

Who Wore What Jewels Weekly

We are rounding up the best jewels of the week. From Anne Hathaway wearing not one but two Bulgari high jewelry looks in Tokyo to Rihanna’s cheeky F*ck  you Y/Project earring to the epic brooch moments spotted on the likes of Succession star Brian Cox and Emily In Paris cutie Lucas Bravo.  Scroll down to see who wore what jewels and vote on your favorite! Enjoy! WHO: MJ Rodriguez WHERE: …

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Fiancè

Notes: 18+ sex mentioned

Special shout-out to @ab4eva and her fabulous editing skills! This is the second installment in my cool girl saga. Read Part 1 here

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Five Things to know about Austin Butler’s New Fiance ::

Although his reps couldn't be reached for comment, sources close to the Elvis actor confirm he has popped the question to his mysterious lady love!

Butler and the stunning brunette were recently spotted at the iconic Les Puces market in Paris last Friday, and she seemed to be sporting a new accessory. Austin was dressed in a black leather jacket, a white v neck tee, and black moto boots. She was clad in a classic trench coat and vintage Dior kitten heels as she kept her head down and let the winner lead the way. His face was mostly obscured by aviator sunglasses, but his smile was very apparent according to onlookers. “Austin was holding her hand and pointing out jewelry at different booths. They were very friendly with local vendors and Austin ended up buying her a gold charm bracelet. He told the dealer the bracelet was a momento to celebrate their recent engagement,” a fellow American tourist overheard. The twosome reportedly spent the prior week soaking in the city of lights and meeting with the YSL fashion house. Austin was recently tapped as the brand's newest ambassador.

Since returning stateside paparazzi pics have finally surfaced and revealed a closer look at that ring. Montana based indie jeweler Jada Kaye has been revealed as the designer of that serious sparkler. The 5 carat, flawless emerald-cut emerald is set in solid gold and flanked by two white diamonds on either side. Inside sources told Elle Magazine that Kaye and Butler worked closely together to craft the one of a kind creation. There's even rumored to be an inscription on the inside that's significant to the couple and the ring is estimated to cost a cool $100,000. Austin's fiancè was photographed heading into a ballet studio yesterday wearing pink tights, a pink leotard, Ugg boots, and of course that ring. Her curly dark brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she seemed to be sporting a pair of the actor's sunglasses.

Here's everything you need to know about the future Mrs. Austin Butler;

She's from New England —

A, as she's known, was born in Rhode Island. She grew up splitting her time between Rhode Island and Kennebunkport, Maine. Her teenage years were spent working the local Del’s lemonade truck, former neighbors say. She attended the Rhode Island School of Design after high school but never graduated.

She and Austin met via her former job –

Whilst working at the New York location of Vibrant Vintage, A, served as the fashion archives buyer. She also happened to be on hand when Butler visited the store. Supposedly she helped him find the perfect pair of leather boots, and the rest is history. Things clearly moved quickly between the two lovebirds, with A relocating to Los Angeles not long after. According to Vibrant Vintage, she is no longer employed there but “remains a close friend and consultant,” says their PR team.

She's a hit with his friends –

She organized a birthday party for her man’s co-star and close friend, Callum Turner. Turner posted an Instagram story showing off a fairly large garden party celebration and a “homemade blueberry glaze cake” according to the post. “Huge thanks to Austin's lovely lady xx” accompanied the video footage. She and Austin were also seen dining with his other Masters of the Air co-star, Nate Mann, while in Paris recently.

They've (supposedly ) got matching ink –

An unnamed employee at the iconic Bang Bang tattoo in NYC has said that Austin and A made a late night visit to the tattoo studio. Where exactly are the said-to-be matching minimalistic tattoos? Reportedly, Austin was inked on his left hip and A on her inner left thigh.

Old fashioned love letters are her thing -

Notably social media shy, Austin and A have taken up the lost art of handwritten love notes. Sources exclusively say that custom monogrammed stationery was crafted for the duo whilst Austin was filming in England. The hand pressed, vintage inspired paper bears a unique coat of arms style symbol with intertwining letter A’s and two sparrows (Fun fact! Sparrows mate for life and always find their way back, no matter how far they fly). While separated, the couple often writes letters to one another, even having the letters sent via jet instead of mail for privacy reasons!

_______

Suddenly one morning articles begin to pour in about your engagement. It catches you off guard, that ring akin to a skating rink has been sitting pretty on your hand for a bit now. The engagement had happened so naturally as everything with the two of you seems to. In the early morning hours while his swollen, rock hard member thrusts into you repeatedly you begin to awaken. On your side, his teeth clamp down on your shoulder as his finger twirls round the curls at the nape of your neck.

His gasps and needy groans tickle your ear. “Couldn't help myself..”, he shudders as you suddenly clamp down around him, barely able to register it all. You stretch and arch, allowing him the room and space to take what he needs. It is his after all. His teeth and pillowy soft lips mark your shoulder blades and when you reach down to where the two of you are joined, you feel his very full balls. Your newly manicured fingers tease and tug the best you can, scrunched up like some sort of acrobat. “Ugh, ugh…baby… you're gonna make me -”. Then he does. Hot, viscous, cream floods you and makes you sigh in a contented whimper. “Thanks darlin’,” he pets your head and you close your eyes dreamily. That is until you hear him rustling around in the bedside table next to him.

You cock open an eye, figuring he's looking for smokes or even the book he had been reading late last night. Your hands are stretched above your head, gripping a pillow. The perfect position for him to suddenly slip the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you've ever seen onto your finger. When your eyes shoot open and you jump up, he's lying there grinning that smile that makes you weak at the knees. “Will you be my wife?” As if your answer would be anything but yes, please Daddy. You smother him in kisses, straddling him and giggling. It's the perfect moment, the perfect proposal. You were never one to want a fireworks display or heaven forbid, those ridiculous and wasteful walls of flowers other celebrities seem to have for every occasion. This private, simple moment is everything you could ask for.

You feel the sudden urge to take him in your mouth despite him just finishing. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you take him down your throat. Choking and gagging, you really give it your all. Fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his lip curls and his eyes slam shut. Talking is always your thing. This time, though, he's sputtering and rasping words of utter devotion and love. Promises to worship your body until the day he dies. My perfect, perfect wife. Soon you can't be sure if the tears are from his cock down your throat, or his beautiful words. Maybe both. Those pretty boy fingers twist and tug on your nipples and then crawl lower and flick that special spot. The only fireworks you enjoy happen, twice for you actually. He's so dutiful and charming, when you're done pulling yourself back together and fixing your hair, he's handing you a surprise glass of champagne. What a way to mark the occasion.

You decline a proper press announcement. Phone and FaceTime calls follow to those who truly matter to you both - your families, both absolutely thrilled. Then Baz, Cal, The Presley's, everyone can't stop gushing about how perfect you are for each other. That ring, oh how sweet he designed it himself. You come up with a family-appropriate story to describe the proposal and the evening that followed, conveniently leaving out the mind-blowing sex the two of you have all over the house and in the hot tub. Why do things feel so different now that you're engaged? You can't get over the way the light hits the ring as you stroke him and something in that dirty girl heart of yours feels like it's really, truly, official when you have to clean his cum off the stone.

He's due back to set for some reshoots a few days later and of course you follow. Bringing throw pillows from your living room to spruce up his trailer and plotting out how to plan the most private, under the radar wedding possible while you lounge in his trailer in a cute little dress you sew yourself from vintage scarves bought in London. Your newest hobby, that and the ballet classes. He yammers on and on about wanting to sneak in and see you dance. You're sure it's just the tights and leotards spurring his interest though, let's be real. The paparazzi are as relentless as ever, but head down with big sunglasses helps keep the chaos at bay.

You visit Disney World, a whole crew, the two of you, your families, friends with their little ones. Thankfully Disney security is familiar with celebrity guests and you can actually let your guard down for once. Which is good, because seeing Austin chase after your friend's newly toddling little ones makes your stomach flip flop with joy. You make a mental note to expedite the wedding plans, he makes it known that he's chomping at the bit to be a father. When you visit Main Street, you decide a pair of new Mickey ears are in order. Gold stitching with Mrs. Butler is what you finally decide on after Austin's encouragement, his hand on your lower back as you walk miles and miles around the park with hands full of churros and cotton candy. Sure, some overzealous fans snap cell phone pics of you with your ears and immediately post them to those ridiculous Austin fan blogs who've now decided you are the evil villain in his story. You won't allow them to burst your Disney bubble though. Your fairytale is just beginning after all.

__

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

Years have gone by. It's now 1971. You've peaked in your career. You've become well known. But what happens when an all too familiar face returns, now more drawn to you?

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Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: steamy ASFF???, angst, swearing, alcohol consumption, shlut shaming (fuck that old man), implied smut in the end (i didn't write smut yall im nervous)

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Chapter nine: You belong to me

===

You and Joseph called consistently. Phone bills got higher, but both of you could care less. Both of you sent letters, pictures, and postcards like you promised.

Joseph often sent you pictures of him and George. He sent you postcards from Italy, Germany, and some cities in France.

You often send pictures of yourself, Callum, and photoshoots. You sent him postcards from Milan, New York, Copenhagen, and more. Mostly fashion capitals in the world.

Every letter you'd send each other would contain your days, food you tried, people you met, places you've been. But in the end of each one, there'd be the same sentence.

"I love you. See you soon."

It always said that.

Years pass, the calls get less consistent, the letters talking about your days now talk about your weeks, then they start talking about your months.

You talk about college now, parties you've been invited to, alcohol you tried.

Less and less postcards. Only three to five would come in a year now, the only thing written in them is the place they've been to.

Seven years have passed. It's 1971 now. You're 23 years old. The phone ringings have stopped. The letter boxes are empty.

Joseph was now merely a memory. Something you've locked inside you. He's beginning to collect dust.

You write in your notebook about your day. You sit on your matress, only an underwear on and some sheer shirt. Your hair is up in a messy clip, bangs blown on your forehead.

Safe to say you're famous. You've been in countless magazines, influencing famous celebrities. For example, Jane Birkin with your full bangs. You actually have her number. It's in the room... somewhere.

Life in Paris has been... alright, you could say. Sure, it smells like piss, and sure, it's filled with rude people, but you grew up here, so might as well accept it.

Callum's been a big help. He's a famous photographer and car enthusiast now. He's done almost all of your photoshoots. There were some rumours that developed about you two being an item, but you quickly shut that down.

A knock is heard on your flat's front door. Callum walks in, a paper bag in hand, and a lit cigarette between his lips.

"Pretty girl," a nickname he never seemed to want to let go, "your wine is here."

You get up from your place, strutting down some steps and kissing Callum's cheek in greeting. You head to the bag placed on the kitchen counter.

"Fuck yes. Thank you, Callum. You're an angel." I place them in a gift bag, saving them for a future event.

In three days' time, a gala was to happen. It would be filled top to bottom with riches, designer clothes and items, jewels, and anything else that screams luxury. And what you're most excited about is the fact that it's a masquerade.

You, for one, were invited to this gala. The people who were invited are sort of a VIP. Only close friends of the host would be there, and knowing the host, they were luxurious as well.

Your dress was ready. Your gift was ready. Everything was ready. Even your plus one, who is very obviously Callum, was ready. Everything would be perfect.

But you were nervous. Something deep inside your gut was telling you something would happen, and you couldn't tell whether it was a bad sign or a good one. You were hoping for the latter.

It crawled through your skin. You weren't one to get nervous, especially after all the exposure to the media in the past couple of years. So this wasn't exactly normal.

Your heart was exhilarated. Your mind was all over the place. What if you didn't look your best? This was a question you haven't asked yourself in a long while. You've been so self-assured, but what changed it now? That gut feeling sucked.

You take your mind off it. You'd rather talk about your plans for that evening.

The dress you, Callum, and your stylist picked was an archive of Audrey Hepburn's 1956 film Funny Face. It was fluffy around the bottom, the end cutting off in the middle of your calf. It was off shoulder, drop waist, coloured white with accents of pink and blue for the flowers imprinted.

Some things to add on were long white silk gloves, your mask that covered anything but your eyes, along with a pair of white kitten heels, pearl earrings, and hair pieces. It reminded you of when you were young. You, in high school with your puffy skirts, pearl jewellery, and kitten heels.

There was something bugging you. Something you're missing. It was a nostalgic memory. It's something you were trying to figure out, but before you could, Callum's arm wraps around your shoulders.

"You alright, pretty girl?" He asked, worry etched in his tone.

You simply smile at him. "Yup. All good."

××《☆》××

You were riding around Paris in your vespa, the wind blowing through your hair and messing it up. It was an hour before midnight, the air colder, and the streets lit up with lights.

You wanted some air. Something about what happened earlier made your mind jumble over what it could've been. You needed to stop it from running around. It would've kept you up all night.

Your coat was on, keeping you warm. You had borrowed it from Callum, using the excuse of the fact that it was bigger, meaning it would keep you from the cold. Which was true.

He barely even used it anyway. It didn't even smell like him. Callum smelt like new cars, cigarettes, and hair gel. This coat wasn't too far, but it wasn't that close. It smelt like cigarettes, yes, but also expensive cologne. Callum doesn't wear that type of cologne.

It got your mind running again. You roll your eyes to yourself. You thought this would help. You speed your Vespa up, making it around l'Arc de Triomphe, turning to a road and going straight ahead.

The wind blew harsher, your nose getting irritated from the cold. You guess Callum's coat wasn't enough. You make some turns again till you get to Pont d'léna, now making you ride face to face with the sparkling Eiffel Tower. You got here in time for it.

Your awe for the tower never really faded even after seeing it almost every day for the past several years. Many people wish to see it for the first time again, but you, it will always feel like the first time.

You turn your head back to the road when you go right, on your way back to your flat. Your neck hurts a bit from craning it to the tower, but most of the time, it's worth it.

Again, you feel nostalgic. There's a tall figure standing on the side of the road looking up at the tower. His hair was messy, so as yours, and he was smoking a cigarette. He had something wrapped around his head. You couldn't quite focus on what he looked like exactly from the speed you were going.

You turn your head to the road again. What was that? It was probably a man you've seen around the streets, or somebody you worked with. You shrug it off and continue your ride home.

××《☆》××

It was the morning of the gala. It would start somewhere around six in the evening for dinner. You woke up early for the day.

You're outside a café with Callum, sipping on piping hot coffee and eating your pastries. Every once in a while, a flash is seen in the corner of your eye. Fans or paparazzi, you pay it no mind.

"Is there anything else we need to do or get before we prep for the gala?" You say, putting your cup down gently onto its plate.

"Nope. You seem a lot more nervous than usual. Is there something you wanna change up?" Callum asks, taking a puff out of his cigarette. You shake your head.

"Yeah, I don't know. I've been feeling it since yesterday. There's just... I think something's gonna happen. Something big." You shrug, crossing your arms and leaning on the table. Callum nods, leaning forward too, mirroring you.

"Ah, well, is it good or bad?" He questions, butting of his cigarette. You think for a while, reminiscing on the feeling.

"Actually, it might be good. That's why I'm nervous, you know? I don't want anything to get messed up. Because if something bad were to happen, well..." I shrug, hissing. Callum chuckles.

"Well, alright. We'll double-check everything so it goes smoothly for you, pretty girl." He pats your arm, reassuring you. You grab a hold of his hand, squeezing it and saying "Thank you."

It was afternoon now. You began to prepare for the gala. Your team came in a few minutes ago, and they begin working on you. You're sitting in your chair with your makeup artist fixing you up when the phone rings.

"Callum, can you get that, please?" I shout towards him. He comes out of the kitchen and into the living room we were in. He picks the phone up. You had a clear vision of everything. He leans against the wall, greeting the caller.

Then, his face shifts. It morphs into something you can't read, but Callum seems to hold in a smile. When he notices you looking at him, he turns his back towards you. Instead of speaking in a normal volume, he began to whisper.

What the fuck was that? Who could the caller be? It's probably one of his hookups, for sure. You let it slide. You'll ask about it after.

When Callum hangs up, you immediately call after him.

"Callum, who was it?" Callum turns around, hands in his back pockets and lips pursed. He does this when he's trying to hide something. You raise your brows.

"Just... someone special." He flashes a quick smile and then runs out of the room. Oh. You were right.

"Someone special" was a code name for one of the boys he fell in love with during your time here in Paris. You both were still in college. He was from the architecture department. Things happened, and things fell apart.

But then, you weren't so sure. Every time someone special called our place after their relationship, Callum was always sad after. Maybe something new happened?

When the clock hit five, everyone was on their way down stairs. You were fully prepped now, in your makeup, and dress with your jewellery and heels. Your mask was on, and you put on a large white fur coat.

Upon exiting your apartment complex, bunches of paparazzi blocked by barricades took pictures of you with their bright flashes. Callum and your team huddled around you, trying to get you safely in the car.

You get in your vehicle, and Callum had made an arrangement that he was to drive it. Nostalgia has filled your senses these past few days. You wonder what would come next.

When you arrived at the venue, wlaking through high ceiling halls and large oak doors, the room was filled with masked people, all dressed in various colours. They stood, laughed, and talked, all while drinking their preferred drinks.

It was a bit chilly in here, and you started to regret leaving your coat in your car. You didn't want to ask Callum to go with you to get it, seeing him already in conversation with the guests. You decide to go to the bar area instead.

You get your drink, fiddling with your hands as you wait. The ballroom was elegant, so much more brilliant than you thought it could be. Though, it felt rather lonely. You shake off the feeling once you receive your poison of the night.

Then, an announcement was heard. Everyone was to grab a partner to accompany them to dance. You promised Callum to enjoy the night, and you guess a dance could fulfil that.

You opted to a man who was sitting in the same bar you were in. He brought you a sense of familiarity for some unknown reason. He was slouched in his seat, ash brown hair a bit messy. He was turning his glass in circles.

"Hello." You greeted. When he turned to you, your eyes widened in wonder. He only had one eye hole, the rest of his face covered like yours. He blinks, and you could slightly hear him breathing.

"Hi." He says simply. You scan him, and there's a feeling in you that you definitely knew who this was, you just couldn't pinpoint it.

"I know I'm not in the position as a woman in this economy," you roll your eyes, "but, would you like to dance with me?"

His back straightens, and you think you've made him uncomfortable.

"Oh. I'm so sorry for even think-"

"Yes." He cuts in. He offers you a gloved hand as he stands from his barstool. You're surprised. He's taller than you imagined.

You take a hold of his hand. It's warm. Familiarly warm. He leads you into the middle of the ballroom, other guests already forming into formation. He gently takes your risks into his hold, moving up to his chest. Again, it's so familiar.

He drifts his hands to your sides and clutches it a bit. You feel as though you knew these hands. Like you've memorised the lines on the palm, the way the fingertips swirl, or how the muscles twitch and the joints move.

The orchestra starts to play, and you start to move. There's a flow you follow, and it feels so easy. You hadn't even known there was choreography, but the man you were with did. And he showed you through it.

You couldn't stop looking. Even if your neck started to hurt from looking up, even if you twirled, even if your eyes started to dry. You couldn't stop. And you didn't want to.

His eyes stayed on you all throughout the dance. The way he held you, the way he felt. He was so warm even if his body was covered in multiple layers of fabric. You could feel it. Like you've sunk into his skin.

When the dance ended, and he asked you to go with him, you agreed. You didn't know what he looked like. You only feel like you knew him, but you weren't sure. But even with that running through your head, you agreed.

The outside was cold but warmer than inside. You still shivered as you did before. Just then, a coat is wrapped around your shaking shoulders. You look up at the masked man. He took his coat off, now only dressed with a white button-up and a vest matching his pants. His already messy hair messes up even more now. It's in perfect condition to run your hands through.

You both make your way to the large railing of the balcony, taking a seat on it. It viewed the beautiful Eiffel Tower, its lights sparkling in the night. The wind blows once again. It's peaceful.

You turn your head to the man, and you almost fell over the rail. Sitting in front of you, his face finally unmasked, was Joseph Descamps. Out of all people, you didn't expect your first love to be sat in front of you. Seven years have passed, and he's still beautiful.

Your eyes began to sting as you lifted your hands to your face, discarding your own mask. He smiles, his pretty pink lips curving upward. He looks down, fiddling with the inseams of his pants. Again, it's familiar.

"Hi, Y/N." He whispers gently, taking a hold of your shaking hand. He takes your gloves off, putting them aside. He connects the tips of his fingers to yours, then encapsulates it in his warmth.

You can't speak. You can't breathe. You can't stop your heart from beating the way it was now.

"Seven years, and I finally see you again." He shows his teeth in his smile, and again, you can't stop looking.

"Still not talking?" He asks with a teasing tone, tilting his head.

"Did you know?" You asked, your voice so low you were surprised he even heard. Of course he did. He payed the closest attention to you.

"Know what?" He raises his eyebrows, anticipating your next words.

"That it was me?" He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Of course I did. I mean, I recognised you with one eye. I think I'd recognise you blind." He moves closer, bringing your hand up and placing a kiss on your knuckles.

You laugh. You lift your free hand up and cup his cheek. He leans into it, head laying heavy on your palm. He looks up at you, his eyelids heavy. Fuck.

He closes his eyes, taking his other hand to clasp at your wrist. He kisses your palm, leaving some wet patches from his open mouth. He trails his kisses up to your pulse, and you can't help but grab on his hair.

"Y/N, I've been looking-" Callum says as he runs towards the entrance of the balcony, stopping in his place at the sight of you.

"Oh, you finally met." Finally? You furrow your eyebrows, trying to figure out what he meant. Joseph pulls away from your hands, keeping his eyes on Callum. You turn my head back to the man in front of me, raising an eyebrow.

"What does he mean finally?" You ask Joseph. Callum walks towards us slowly, hands clasped behind his back.

"Uh..." Joseph looks to Callum. Callum raises his hands up. Joseph looks back to you, licking his lips before answering. "I planned it... sorry?"

"Planned it? Sorry? Joseph, why are you saying sorry? This is the best thing ever." You exclaim, and the two men just look at eachother.

"Not to ruin whatever the fuck you guys were doing just then, but the host wants some pictures, so..." He gestures to the door. You purse your lips in disappointment but nod. You get up and straighten your skirt, wiping off any wrinkles.

"I better go." You take your gloves and mask from where you were seated. "Can I see you after the gala?"

Joseph nods. "I was already planning on it." After prepping fully, you just stand there. You then lift your hand. "Bye."

Why was that so awkward? You'll save your self-beating bit later. Before you could even walk a step, Joseph takes your wrist again. You turn around to be met with a kiss on the corner of your lips.

"You look as gorgeous as the day you left." He whispers and presses another kiss on your cheek. They're beet red, you can feel it. He walks away, waving a bye to Callum, too. Callum slowly turns his head to you, then ushers you to go with him.

"What was that?" There's a cheeky smile on his face, and you try to hide your growing one.

"I don't even know."

××《☆》××

He was... clingy. The host, you meant. He was tall and built, but he was honestly so annoying. He kept bragging about his riches and talking about himself. The only time he shut up was when he took a sip of his whiskey.

You look around subtly, trying to keep yourself from rolling your eyes in front of the man, even though he could barely see them from your mask. Speaking of, he didn't wear one. This might've just been a party to make him somewhat the centre of attention for standing out.

"Dance with me, darling." You grimace. You're very glad for these masks. That nickname will be the death of you. And in a bad way.

"I don't feel like dancing. My feet are starting to hurt." I shrug, pointing to my ankles. You thought you were so smart, but he was just so insistent.

"Well, why don't we go upstairs? My office is free, and, you know," He comes disgustingly closer. You can smell his bad breath from his rotting yellow teeth. "I can help you with the aching."

Before you could retort, an arm wraps around your waist, keeping you still. You would've pushed away if you hadn't recognised his touch or his scent.

"Excuse me, sir. I must bring Ms. Pardine home immediately. She is busy tomorrow. And most definitely busy tonight." He turns his head towards you. He felt so tense. Like he was keeping something within him. A feeling so strong.

The man huffs like a child. "And who are you supposed to be?" He crosses his arms. He looks so immature, even with that saggy and wrinkley face.

"A close... friend." Joseph's hand slid down to my hips, clutching it slightly. He tugs you in closer, making you lose balance and place a hand on his chest. You refuse to look his way, or even anyones.

The other man scowls, disgust now visible in his face. "What a slut." He mumbles, finally leaving you alone. Joseph's grip on your hips tightens, and it starts to hurt you a bit.

"Joseph." You say, trying to gently push his hand away. He immediately lets go, turning to you worriedly.

"Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He rubs your hip to relax it, but you don't relax one bit. Your heart hammers in your chest, and there's a feeling deep in your stomach.

"It's alright. Just take me home." I caress his neck before grabbing his hand, moving through the crowds of people. You try to look for Callum, but when you find him, he's talking, or quite literally eye fucking some guy he was conversating with. He can get home, you guess.

Joseph takes you home in his car. This felt weird. Not badly, just that you've never been driven by him. It felt comforting. You could get used to this.

You tell him the directions to your place, and when you make it, you pause.

"Come in?" You turn your head. Your masks were already long gone, and all you could see was his beautiful face again.

"Are you sure?" He asks, voice shaking. You can't believe he's still nervous with you, especially with that stunt he pulled with your wrist on a public balcony. You'll tease him about it soon.

"With you? Always." So then you went up to your room, and as soon as you did, his hands were on you again. He backs you up until your back hits the wall behind you. You're both breathing so heavy it's the only thing you could hear in the entire flat.

"I missed you. And I need you. So fucking much." He whispers, one hand cupping your face and the other roaming your waist. Your legs go wobbly, so you take your heels off, making you shorter than you already were standing in front of him.

"Fuck." You mumble. "Kiss me already."

He smashes his lips against yours feverishly, and you could taste everything he had that night. Wine, whiskey, cigarettes, and even strawberries. His tongue swipes your lips as he lets out a groan.

He pulls you closer, kneeling a bit to grab your thighs, then carrying you with ease, all while he loses his breath from kissing you. He lets go of your face to let his hands roam the area, not wanting to accidentally hit your wall.

"Bedroom?" He asks, parting for only a millisecond before placing his pretty pink lips on yours again. You have to fight the urge not to drown in him.

"To the left." He nods, continuing to kiss you as he reverts his way to the left side of your flats. You bump a few things on the way, like some side tables and magazines.

You finally make it to the bedroom, and he lies down gently onto your bed. He slows his lips, savouring the way you tasted. It makes you squirm in anticipation, and you feel a smirk on his lips as he continues. He parts away, a small string of saliva accentuating it. He pants before he speaks.

"I wasn't lying. I really fucking need you. Please. Please, tonight." He whimpers, arms wobbling from where he placed it to hover over you. You just can't say no.

One nod sealed the deal for him, and his lips were on you again. This time, it's on your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your eyes.

He pecks down to your neck. Everything inside you feels so fuzzy, especially when he kissed and sucked on those sensitive parts. He lowers down to your shoulders, and you can feel the bruises forming. You love the way it feels. You love the way he feels. You love him.

××《☆》××

End - Chapter nine: You Belong To Me

Next - Chapter Ten: I love you

××《☆》××

WHAT'S UP GUYS??? So, like this is nice (i need him so bad OMFGGGGG) totally can still breathe after that last scene (i can't i want him pls omg) so like hope you enjoyed THAT cliffhanger. It's better than my old cliffhangers, right? But overall, i hope you enjoyed THE WHOLE chapter bcs its real nice, and it's all me. ONE CHAPTER LEFT!!!

[jelzorz]

174.

The Celestial elves say no. Of course they say no. Callum doesn't know what else he expected. Did he really think they could just waltz into the Star Scraper and ask to borrow the Nova Blade and a handful of quasar diamonds, and then get them, no questions asked?

His head still hurts from that vision, that dream that felt far too much like that time he'd collapsed after doing Dark Magic for the first time, and though he and Rayla have been granted a room for their trouble, the Nova Blade is still out of reach, and those quasar diamonds are embedded into that crown the blind priest refused to share. Rayla is lying on the bed, her eyes staring blankly at the ceiling of stars, dazed and a little defeated, he thinks, because those diamonds are the only way to free her parents, and they'll never get them, not like this, and meanwhile the sword—

Callum makes a face. He's been pacing up and down the length of the room for about twenty minutes because there is... one more thing they could try. One last chance to obtain the weapon that might save them all and the jewels that would free her parents. It's just... not a particularly bright idea. Not a very legal one, even here.

"What are you thinking?" asks Rayla at last. She sits up in the bed, wary, exhausted, like even she doubts their mission here is one they can complete. "You've been pacing for ages. Want to share with the class?"

Callum presses his lips together. "I don't know," he says after a moment. "I just... We need that sword and those diamonds, there's got to be a way to convince them—"

Rayla lets out a hollow laugh. "Yeah, no. I don't think there's anything we could say to change their minds."

"Yeah, but—"

She flops back down. "I dunno, Callum," she mumbles. "I want to get my parents out of those coins so bad, and I know you want that sword to use against Aaravos but... I don't think there's anything else we can do here. They've made it clear it's not happening and I... don't want to get my hopes up for nothing."

He grimaces then, hating how hopeless she sounds, hating the wobble in her voice and the way it makes his heart ache in ways he will never be able to explain. There's still that last resort, isn't there? The final chance to get everything they need in one go, with permission or without it, and it all comes down to what they are and aren't willing to do.

But that would mean—

He shakes his head. No. It's stupid. It's dangerous. It would bring the wrath of the Celestial elves right to Katolis' doorstep. Ezran would be furious, but it would also mean...

He glances at Rayla, at the way her eyes are dull and unseeing with resignation. His heart stutters for her, for the thought of her happily reunited with the people she loves most, the brilliance of her smile and the love she deserves.

Hasn't she done enough for everyone? Hasn't she sacrificed enough to get just one good thing?

"Don't give up yet," he decides. His resolve feels like steel and jelly at the same time, like he would do this for her, no question about it but ony as long as he doesn't give himself the time to think twice. Rayla turns her head to him, confused, daring to hope, and Callum closes his fingers into fists at his side, refusing go home empty handed, refusing to let Rayla down like so many others before him.

"Get your stuff together," he says. "Wait for me here. When I get back, you gotta be ready to run."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Callum."

"You trust me, right?"

She sits up slowly, suspicious of him, of the resolve in his eyes. "Yes," she says after a moment.

He swallows, his nerve wavering, just for a moment. Then he nods and clenches his jaw tight. "Back in a minute," he mutters, wrenching the door open before he can change his mind.

He would do anything for her. He's done worse.

Stealing is not the furthest he can fall.

[raayllum]

The high mage office becomes a bit of a ramshackle, afterwards.

The first and most obvious reason is that, while spacious, it was only really meant to accommodate one mage and possibly an apprentice at a time—not three mages, piles of books and magical objects stacked ceilings high.

That, and the youngest of their little club has by far more clutter than Kpp'Ar or Viren ever did, the eldest mage thinks.

Callum is quick witted and talks too much, otherwise staying silent for hours, out of studiousness or bother, eyes hard whenever he looks at Viren.

His old apprentice is the most out of place, perhaps. Viren has forsaken dark magic, a path Kpp'Ar never thought possible, especially with what Viren had imprisoned him over. But Viren throws the books of dark arts only sour looks and dour frowns, reluctant to even touch them never mind read them. He and Claudia are alike in that way, Kpp'Ar supposes, seeing how they've grown side by side now as adults. They're no longer dark mages, but they refuse to try their hand at primal magic and arcanums, either.

For Claudia, Kpp'Ar thinks it is a lingering trace of stubbornness and pride. For Viren, it's likely fear—for if he can't connect, then he is shut off from magic forever. And if he can, then all the pain he caused and dark roads he took might've been avoided.

He helps out, mostly, running messages—taking letters to the rookery, labelling bottles, taking the messiness of Callum's notes that Kpp'Ar's eyesight is too poor to make out, and turning them into something coherent. Not unlike the work he'd done when he was an apprentice, if muted and with a hesitance rather than a persistent, desperate hunger.

And for the first time in a very long time, Kpp'Ar is a student.

Not officially, of course. Callum is the only official high mage among the three (or four) of them, and he's never taken on an apprentice before. Nor had he taken Kpp'Ar on when the old man had expressed a desire to learn primal magic—to see the world and his work again anew, with his unexpected second chance.

But you don't become a mage if you aren't observant, and intelligent, and driven, and able to learn at least a little from example. Kpp'Ar needles him about the arcanums he holds, which Callum is more than willing to spout nonsense about to someone, the nonsense gradually making more and more sense. Dark magic is about ingredients, the way machines are about gears and cogs. Primal magic is about connection, and cycles, a bridge, the same way a puzzle serves to be one: one for humans to solve from a Maker, whether that's magic or or the all forsaken All-Mother in Kpp'Ar's mind.

A puzzle he will, with gnarled fingers and a grizzled face, grasp one day with as much certainty as his jewelled cane.

Callum finds him one day, pouring over Earthblood tomes, and raises a brow and a cup of tea to his lips. "Didn't expect to find you in here so early."

"Shows you still have much to learn," Kpp'Ar mutters, turning the page. He squints, the candle growing dim.

Callum snaps and the flame sparks, emitting much more light. Some of his headache clears away. "If you're really set on an arcanum," Callum advises, jerking his head, "maybe think about the Sun."

Healing, vision, light.

Kpp'Ar eyes the candle.

"Perhaps," is all he says, and maybe he still has some pride of his own—he's more than double the boy's own age, after all, even with thirteen years lost to that accursed coin.

But then there are much worst things than taking advice—like taking the wrong advice.

That's another thing their little club has in common, he supposes.

[theredhairedmonkey]

Wishes

aka the closest thing to an Aladdin AU this fandom will ever see 😏

***

As the Corona of the Heavens settled upon Callum's brow, the quasar diamonds pulsed with an otherworldly light. The air crackled with energy, and Callum felt the raw power of the Star magic coursing through his body.

Rayla turned to Callum, her eyes brimming with hope. "Callum, does this mean you could bring back my family?"

Callum grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Rayla! I don't think you realize what we got here. So why don't you just ruminate, whilst I illuminate the possibilities."

With a grand flourish, Callum launched into the song, music began to play out of nowhere, his voice echoing through the halls of the Starscraper.

Well, Ali Baba had them 40 thieves Scheherazade had a thousand tales But Rayla, you in luck 'cause up your sleeves You got a brand of magic never fails

As he sang, Callum waved his hands, and a dazzling display of fireworks erupted around them. Sparks of every color danced through the air, leaving trails of shimmering stardust in their wake. Rayla's eyes widened in amazement, her mouth agape as she watched the spectacle unfold.

You got some power in your corner now Some heavy ammunition in your camp You got some punch, pizzazz, yahoo and how? See, all you gotta do is lemme know, and I'll say--

"Callum, this is incredible, but about my family--" Rayla interjected, trying to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand. But Callum was too caught up in his magical performance to listen. With a snap of his fingers, a shower of gold and jewels rained down upon them, clattering against the marble floor.

Stella, unable to resist the allure of the shiny treasures, scampered around in a frenzy, her tiny hands grabbing at everything within reach with as much loot as she could carry.

Ms. Rayla, ma'am, what will your pleasure be? Let me take your order, jot it down You ain't never had a friend like me, ha-ha-ha!"

Callum conjured a banquet table out of thin air, laden with the most exotic dishes from across the kingdoms. Succulent roast meats, colorful fruits, and delectable pastries filled the air with their tantalizing aromas. With a wave of his hand, the cutlery sprang to life, dancing and singing along with Callum's tune.

Life is your restaurant and I'm your maitre d' Come on, whisper what it is you want You ain't never had a friend like me

Rayla tried to interject once more, but Callum was lost in his own world. He snapped his fingers, and a chorus line of enchanted brooms and mops appeared, their bristles tapping out a lively rhythm as they danced around the banquet table.

Yes ma'am, we pride ourselves on service You're the boss, the queen, the shah Say what you wish, it's yours, true dish How 'bout a little more baklava?"

Callum gestured towards the table, and a towering pyramid of golden baklava appeared, its flaky layers glistening with honey and nuts. Rayla's frustration grew with each passing moment, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

Have some of column A, try all of column B I'm in the mood to help you, dude You ain't never had a friend like me

Suddenly, two giant manifestations of Callum's hands descended from the sky, their fingerless gloves still on. They began to dance with Callum, mimicking his every move as he continued to sing.

As the song reached its climax, Callum's voice grew louder and more powerful. He raised his arms, and the entire Starscraper began to shake with the force of his magic.

You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend Never - Had A - Friend - Like - ME

With a final, earth-shattering note, Callum clapped his hands, and all the wonders he had conjured vanished in an instant. The fireworks, the banquet, the dancing cutlery—all of it disappeared, leaving only Callum, Rayla, and a very confused-looking Stella standing in the empty halls of the Starscraper.

Rayla sighed, shaking her head. "Callum, that was quite a performance, but let's see what we can do about my family now, okay?"

Callum grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away there. But you have to admit, it was pretty amazing, right?"

[elysbrax]

♛ → THE WESTERLANDS presents ELYS BRAX, the LORD of HORNVALE. when the dragons danced in the sky they thought the GREENS would still fly, but in the blink of an eye, they would all die. the THIRTY-FOUR year old CIS MAN who was OPPORTUNISTIC & ADAPTABLE before they saw the first of the flames, is now MANIPULATIVE & OBSESSIVE after seeing the last. they’re often associated with tarnished jewels, the gilding slowly rubbing off, the single-minded pursuit of a goal, a loaded set of dice ( callum turner )

pinterest ❖ playlist ❖ wanted connections ❖ character building ❖ timeline ❖ tasks

history. 

tws - stillbirth

the history of elys brax begins three generations ago, with two brothers. caspor brax, the eldest of the two, became lord of hornvale upon their father’s death, whilst his younger brother, alastor, was granted a keep within the lands caspor held. 

caspor would only have one child - a daughter, jeyne. alastor would go on to have many children, the eldest being a son, a knight by the name of lyonel brax. a cunning and ambitious man, it was lyonel himself who suggested that he marry caspor’s daughter, and so, the cousins were wed, allowing lyonel to rise to ruling lord with his wife by his side. 

it would have been the perfect plan - if only lyonel’s bride had given him a son. however, it wasn’t to be. before her death, jeyne brax would give birth to four daughters, before both mother and babe perished on the birthing bed with their fifth child, yet another girl. 

lyonel would later remarry, and with his second wife, he would have only one child - the son he had longed for. elys brax’s birth was much celebrated by his father, the first son born to a ruling lord since caspor and alastor, the heir he had yearned for for years. 

by the time elys was born, lyonel was already past his prime. knowing his son would succeed him at a young age, he began to impart the lessons he wished elys to learn upon him before the boy was really old enough to comprehend them, moulding elys into the man he expected him to become whilst he still could. the young elys would take those lessons to heart, his boyhood spent in the pursuit of matters lyonel considered worthwhile. 

as a younger man, elys would make a name for himself as a tourney knight, following in his father’s footsteps. one would think this would give him some skill upon the battlefield, but during the dance of the dragons,he developed a distaste for meeting opponents head on, honourably, on the battlefield, instead advocating for tricks and traps that would see the enemy on the backfoot before sending his men in to attack. there are many things elys brax cares about, but honour and fairness do not number among them. 

midway through the dance, lyonel brax succumbed to old age, leaving elys as lord of hornvale. 

for a long time, he has had his eyes on a council position, holding off from grasping for it due to uncertainties regarding the stability of his hold on hornvale. however, having kept his seat for several years now, he’s been slowly integrating himself in court, making his presence known and preparing himself to make his move.

personality. 

basics

elys is somewhat of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but he is not a meek and mild person. he’s sneaky, manipulative and machiavellian, but does not possess the sort of outward personality you might expect from someone with those traits. 

despite his lack of scruples, there’s no coldness to him, and he can in fact be quite a charismatic person, and certainly a strong presence, refusing to allow himself to be overlooked. 

he’s ambitious to the point of obsession, often locking on to a goal and pursue it doggedly until he achieves it. he will then find another target, and begin to chase that with just as much determination. 

he is determined, but he’s not stubborn. he knows when to disembark a sinking ship, and he will not commit to a plan that isn’t working, instead adapting his approach for the results he wants. he has a methodical approach to most things in life. 

his blood runs hot, but he’s remarkably good at biding his time, capable of nursing grudges for years before striking. 

there are few lines elys will not cross if he feels it is in his interests to do so. 

he’s the type of man to hand someone a rope and watch them hang themself. he’s not the person you mind your tongue around, he’s the person you regret saying too much to.

goals. 

both his ambition and his father’s tutelage inform his goals in life. to be blunt, elys wants power and control, and until he achieves that, there is little else he can truly focus on or desire. 

rumours. 

due to his distant relation to caspor brax, there is an argument that elys has no claim to hornvale, and that it should instead belong to the children of his oldest sister, caspor’s grandchildren. he is not the direct heir of house brax, he is just the only male to bear the brax name. 

fears. 

his biggest fear is humiliation. elys does not suffer fools, and will not be made to look like one. 

other. 

of his four sisters, the elder two are much older, in their fifties, and married with children of their own. the younger two are both under forty, and closer to elys’ age. 

hornvale itself is a mountainous, hilly region near the border of the riverlands. rather than the gold and silver and gemstones associated with the westerlands, their trade is iron, copper, tin, steel and lead, practical and useful metals for weapons and tools, but with a distinct lack of opulence. there is a martial tradition in the house, and all males born into it are expected to achieve knighthood. their sigil is the unicorn, which in heraldry is a symbol of both martial defence and trickery. 

[residentcatgirl]

A/N: My friend wrote a book! She's a new and upcoming writer! Personally, I really like this book.

Title: Somnium

Categories: Fiction about loners, Outcasts for Young Adults, Magical Realist Fiction for Young Adults

~ ~ ~

Jewell Brooks thinks she is going crazy. Three months ago she was involved in a serious car accident and now she is starting to hear voices in her head. After the voices started she began seeing a boy her age everywhere. With his black hair and dark brown, almost black, eyes she somehow feels drawn to him. The catch: she is the only one who can see him. He introduces himself to her as Tanner Bahet and tells her the reason only she can see him is that he has abilities that allow him to hide his presence from everyone except those he allows to see him. At the same time Tanner shows up, another boy by the name of Callum Edwards appears. To her utter astonishment, Callum is also able to see Tanner. After meeting Tanner, Jewell begins to have odd dreams where she is lying in a bed and unable to move, as if she were paralyzed, and a shadowy figure is constantly watching her from the darkest corner of the room. She knows there is something mysterious and strange about these two boys, but she doesn't know why. As she continues to live her life, a dark force is at work to ensure Jewell will take her last breath.

[go-to-the-mirror]

MARTIN Huh, she couldn't help what she was, I guess. ARCHIVIST She didn't even try.

I can't break the cycle, am I just a fool? Falling down like dominoes, hit by family jewels Pass it down from kid to kid, the chain will never end 'Less I decide to go to it, will I see the end?

JORDAN I don't... I don't know how to be this. I don't want to hurt people. ARCHIVIST No. But you'll learn.

I have this dream that I am hitting my dad with a baseball bat And he is screaming and crying for help And maybe halfway through, it has more to do with me killing him Then it ever did protecting myself

The exterminator looks to her, then to the Archivist, and it is not certain which he fears more. The Archivist, for his part, is hopelessly willing the dream to stop, but as she takes one scorched step after another, it is clear that he has no power to make it.

You’re a monster, a beast, rotten to the core, Fangs, and claws, and a gaping maw, “You take after them,” -- and you can’t say it’s wrong, Because among the good ones, you don’t belong.

CALLUM I-I-I was, I was scared, alright? I was really, really scared. [...] And it was da-dark, and I couldn't see anyone, and, I didn't know where I was, a-and there was something on my face and it was cold, a-and it was slimy. And it didn't like me. [...] ARCHIVIST And it was after that you started shoving smaller kids into cupboards, right? CALLUM Yeah, give them a taste of it. Make them afraid of the dark.

If I had no sense at all, I would go into that room and stab him with a kitchen knife.

Cycles

"MAG 188 - Centre of Attention" / "The Family Jewels" - Marina / "MAG 184 - Like Ants" / "Father" - The Front Bottoms / "MAG 120 - Eye Contact" / "Fight Response" - landscaping-your-mind / "MAG 173 - Night Night" / my writing on 18 September 2022

[ask-ethari-anything]

Is it possible that an elf can change there arcanum

2. Is it possible that an elf can be born without any magic inside of them

3. A while ago I heard a head canon story about you having a half human side of you, my advance of that is that you always use jewels and crystals to create magical spells. I have never seen you use moon shadow rune magic. My question is that do you have a secret human side of you that you are ashamed of, if so there is no need to hide it, since rayla has proven her love to Callum which he is a human. Does Runaan know about this, if not I think you should tell him, you know he loves you no matter how many weird flaws you might have. As Rayla once said, "fitting is a boring".

I... change our arcanum? Not that I know of. Elves are usually born to one arcanum, and it usually stays that way for the rest of our lives, unless you're like Aaravos. *side-eyes you*

Yes! It is possibly, but very very rare. This is called amagiasis. I've yet to meet an elf with such a condition. In Moonshadow elf culture, it is unfortunately looked down upon, shamed, and stigmatized. Most Moonshadows born without a connection are usually ostracized from the community and keep to themselves. They are not ghosted though! They may remain in the village, but they are usually viewed as a burden. *sigh* I wish it weren't so. Thankfully, since it's so rare, very very few are subject to such treatment. Moonshadows are usually very community-centered and quite often look out for the disabled members of their villages. I have yet to understand why no arcanum connection is the outlier. I hear other types of elves aren't nearly as harsh as Moonshadows when it comes to elves born without an arcanum, though. Sunfires seem to be the most progressive race of elves when it comes to this topic.

Half human? Interesting. Not to disappoint, but I'm afraid I'm not a halfling. ... At least I think. *decides I should write to my parents soon* Runaan is well aware of the standings with my magical capabilities. Runes are hard for assassins to use while on missions: drawing them is time consuming, movement draws attention, the glowing of the runes draws attention... it's not ideal. This is why I prefer enchantments in my products. Much stealthier and efficient than runes! It is true, I'm not as strong as the others, but I also have no need to use magical runes in my life. Enchantments do just fine. Thank you for your concern, though. I appreciate that you care.

[regalfairytaleacademy]

Devil & Angel Family

(Uncles)

Cousins

Regarding to Callum, Charisse oftens visiting him when come to buying things at the shop he runs at the school, lessly chatting with during break.

Meribella and Coralia were cousins who gave her presents at the time, mostly cute gifts like mini building sets, headbands and more.

While Renee and Cosmina gave her pranking gifts / surprises for birthdays, festivals, and every years.

Among her cousin, Flora is the one she precisely cherish, but Flora view her as a nemesis by misunderstand.

While with Stefano, Charisse worthy of being care to him, hopefully he didn't make the Devildom into "the Sea of Flame".

Augustine, once her enemy, attempted to take her body, the Key of Light. However, he is now her cousin and has a change of heart.

Lock Siblings often got pranked by royal siblings; Renee, Flora and Stefano, ever since their father Lucifer also got joked by Satan and Belphie.

As for Coralia and Harry, they recently ignored her back as living in their unrealistic world. But, that isn't means they are uncaring their cousins, just a while to calm their frighten of social problem.

[moodindigov]

celia charity brightwell; my personal view on her words in s&p and her character.

okay tbh idk if this has ever been brought up before and tbf i havent looked into it yet because this thought just came so suddenly to me while i was reading ash and quill for like the eighteen billionth time, but can we talk about celia charity whatever her name is brightwell? like can we talk about her bond with her sons being literally non existent. (read more bcs i won’t make u scroll past this post for 2 seconds when u can scroll past it in like a quarter of that time.)

genuinely think about it, celia brightwell is ‘a dutiful mother but never a loving one’ and suddenly this all changes because she’s lost almost all her kids..like i get that we can’t see her inner thoughts or monologue from her or anything, and i understand that she may have been going through her own share of the struggle of fighting back trauma and getting enough strength to do this, but i personally cannot see jess truly forgiving her for what she’s done—or for that matter, what she hasn’t done that so deeply hurt him that in a&q when asked for his mother’s jewels by thomas, jess promptly responds that he’s ‘lucky to have a thief for a friend.’ and when wolfe overhears his schemes with khalila and dario and shows jess that if we would’ve just asked celia charity whats-her-name for the jewels, she would’ve gladly given them over, he has this reaction of just pure anguish and fury; how can wolfe be so sure? how could wolfe understand what he went through, and even more so, how can he just talk about his mother as if she ever truly loved him, cared for him as a mother should, when throughout his eighteen years of living and struggling to keep himself above water from the storm that callum’s made of his life, she’s simply been an entity in his life. there but not present in his life, a shadow. something not physically attainable to hold and ground himself to a reality - and it’s that real sort of reaction from jess who’s just at this point completely given up on the hope of receiving motherly love from this enigma in his life, knowing he probably should give up hope that she’d treat him with any sort of actual care because he knows he’d just be disappointed with the outcome, and yet still holding onto that fragile piece that maybe she could. i personally feel like the end of sword and pen where jess just automatically declares his love for her is so inaccurate and imo so rushed i feel to get a sort of happy ending for the brightwell family. and like i said earlier, we don’t know at all what celia was going through and i understand it would’ve taken time for her to build up the courage to stand up to callum herself, but its so sporadic in the end, so- abrupt, that it seems not really fleshed out enough to truly be something anyone would consider forgiving in the moment, but we’ll give jess benefit of the doubt. he’s still freshly grieving morgan and his twin (i should probably write something ab that too) so maybe his reaction to just immediately cling onto a semblance of love someone from his blood family could offer was more instinctual, more him trying to grasp that feeling that no one in his family could’ve given him up until that point. but even then, even when charity couldn’t stand up to callum and his cruel ways and couldn’t get herself out from under his boot, it didn’t leave her unable to bond with her sons. it didn’t suddenly stop her from getting the chance to at least try and protect them from what she knew was going on, what they were going through. and at the beginning of the series i just assumed she rarely even cared for them, because remember callum only married her for money and power and probably some other toxic and self-centered desire i can’t think of, but when it’s revealed she does care for them, it makes it even more confusing. did she not talk to them in hopes of them just never bonding so she could, at least maybe for a small time, ignore the mistake she’d made of marrying callum and the consequences that came with it, and suddenly when she’s ready to acknowledge those consequences, she comes to jess’ aid? was it for some desire that maybe she could protect them? i just dont get it.

[starchytart]

9 people I want to get to know better, I was tagged by @nwtbobsessedemo

I saw the post yesterday on my dashboard and thinking, man, I wish I was tagged, not realizing (nor checking my notif) that I AM tagged lmao. So, thank you for the tag! :D

Last song listened to

I'll Take Care Of You by Precious Jewel Amor. I found myself went back to listening to DSMP fansong again time for time. Especially since its near end of the year where people will make a lot of references to years prior event. Just a bit nostalgic I guess.

Currently Reading

Partners in Crime by Agatha Christie, its September so reading the Queen of Crimes is due. I'm still in early pages, so nothing much happening yet (except some light scamming, I suppose, they feel a bit silly)

Currently Watching

Dimension 20: Mentopolis. I dont watch show/series/movie that much honestly. But I follow most Dropout content.

Current Obsession

I keep a close eye at whatever is happening in QSMP right now, I barely catch any stream (since most of them are like at 3 am on my timezone), so mostly catching up from twitter updates account and vods. And of course another obsession including agatha christie's book, natewantstobattle (struggling with phantom wip rn wml), wilbur soot, and dimension 20, (also sanders sides obsession creeping up again now i watch mentopolis, but its still at bay).

Tagging: @mediaforanya @greatpistachiopie @thelongestwalk @moonpleaser @bellebeloved @foggy4k @fukurounnen @quicklings @callum-loves-u

No pressure btw, feel free wether to do it or not :D

[silvyysthings]

My mind is going with these two, Spielberg new series is really beautiful, Callum is a jewel and I have a serious crush for Austin 😂 and the fault is as always of @mysteriouslyspeedylover-blog 😂😂😂😂

Callum Turner and Austin Butler MASTERS OF THE AIR, PART FOUR