charming children

Oakland Tribune, California, April 28, 1935 

My mom did something similar when I was little, she’d always tell me to say “bread and butter”… from Wikipedia

Bread and butter” is a superstitious blessing or charm, typically said by young couples or friends walking together when they are forced to separate by an obstacle, such as a pole or another person. By saying the phrase, the bad luck of letting something come between them is thought to be averted. Both walkers must say the phrase, and if they do not do this, then a bitter quarrel is expected to occur. The concept derives from the difficulty of separating butter from bread once it has been spread – buttered bread cannot be “unbuttered”. Another phrase used in this way is “salt and pepper”.


If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off somewhere else. In this story, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle. […] Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were intelligent children, charming, and resourceful, they had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky, and most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I’m sorry to tell you this… but that is how the story goes.

asoue + a gifset per episode ≡ bad beginning: part one

Imagine the kid looks like a tiny cross between Yata and Fushimi too, like it has Fushimi’s eyes and Yata’s hair and it’s a bit grumpy but also has the sweetest brightest smile. When the kid first appears Yata and Fushimi are so confused, like maybe they were chasing the Strain down and it hit them both with its power, Fushimi tries to throw up a Blue shield but he’s a moment too late and they both brace for something terrible to happen. Instead there’s like a the sound of a small tinkling bell and suddenly there’s this small child sitting there in front of them sucking her thumb and being completely calm, just staring at them with big blue eyes. Fushimi and Yata just stare at each other for a moment, not sure what exactly happened here and who the kid is. Yata walks over and kinda hesitantly asks the kid if she’s lost, she stares at him for a long moment and then her eyes light up and she smiles, Yata totally melts. Fushimi comes over looking all stern, like this might be a trap Misaki don’t be taken in so easily but then the child suddenly looks at him with shining eyes and holds her arms out to him begging for a hug. Fushimi clicks his tongue and complains that they should be going after the Strain not playing with kids, but somehow he ends up picking the kid up anyway and holding her.

They take the child back to Scepter 4 headquarters, Yata doesn’t really want to send her there because he’s already having big brother feelings and he doesn’t think Scepter 4 should be treating a kid like some kind of science experiment they need to find out the origin of. As soon as Munakata sees the child he’s highly intrigued, like he looks at her and then at Fushimi and then at Yata and gives this big knowing smile even though all he says is ‘oya, what have we here?’ Fushimi explains the situation, assuming still that the kid must be some kind of weird Strain trick or maybe even the Strain itself transformed. Munakata decides to take the kid to the infirmary for tests, assuring a worried Yata that all they’re going to do is take some blood samples and test her vitals and such. Fushimi says that he’s going back to work in the meantime but Yata finds himself going with the kid to the infirmary, holding her hand while she gets her blood taken and everything. Once the tests are done Yata’s allowed to take the kid with him as long as they don’t leave the building so he takes her to the office to see Fushimi, Fushimi acts like they’re both bugging him with their presence but Yata catches him smiling when the girl holds her arms out to him. Fushimi is trying to act like he’s not enjoying the child when Munakata shows up with this great big smile and an envelope, informing them that they did a DNA test and the results are quite interesting: the child’s genetic makeup is such that she could be the biological child of both Fushimi and Yata. They’re both like what the fuck in perfect unison, Munakata reaches over and covers the child’s ears.

So since the kid is technically their child and there’s no one to watch her until the power wears off Fushimi and Yata are allowed to take her home to their own apartment. Fushimi for his part doesn’t want much to do with the child and Yata has no idea why, like he’s already totally charmed by this cute kid who kinda reminds him of Saru sometimes, especially when she pouts (but her temper is all Yata, as he finds when she tries to grab one of Fushimi’s knives and he takes it away from her). Fushimi spends the entire time just trying not to be won over, like I think more than Yata he would be really keenly aware that this kid is probably going to disappear eventually and he doesn’t want to get attached. Slowly he gets won over though, like Yata makes them both dinner and the girl climbs into his lap, Yata laughs and slides Fushimi the softer foods he made for the kid and suggests Fushimi help feed her. Fushimi clicks his tongue but the girl just turns and looks up at him and he starts feeding her anyway. Then before bed Yata drags both the girl and Fushimi into the bathroom, Fushimi ends up in the bath tub with the girl and a lot of bubbles while Yata helps them both wash their hair. Afterward Fushimi goes into the living room to get some work done, when he comes back to the bedroom Yata and the girl are both asleep on the bed cuddled together. Fushimi steps towards them and he keeps reminding himself that this isn’t permanent, he shouldn’t get attached, but he can’t stop himself from lying down next to them and wrapping his arms around them both. (And then he wakes up with just Yata in his arms and a text from Awashima saying they caught the Strain. Yata’s really bummed that the girl is gone but Fushimi just coldly says it was inevitable wasn’t it, she was a fake person after all. Yata starts to yell at him, angry, but then he notices that Fushimi’s face is turned away and there’s a definite shake in his shoulders and Yata just hugs him instead.)


Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire were intelligent children. Charming, and resourceful, they had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky. Most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I’m sorry to tell you this… but that’s how the story goes.

“How’s that hot chocolate, bud?” 

Jack took a sip and gave a small smile, “It’s good, daddy. But….”

“But?” Aaron questioned with a slight stern voice. It was beyond past Jack’s bedtime but he had insisted on staying up until Aaron came home and by the time that came, he had wanted some piping hot chocolate. 

“I should have asked [y/n] to make it.” Jack mumbled softly, taking another sip.

Aaron chuckled, “Did I not make it like [y/n]?” You had been babysitting Jack for almost a year now, falling into the job on accident when you had substituted his class one day. Jack had adored you so much that he made Aaron hunt you down to become his new babysitter. 

“No…[y/n] doesn’t use the packets, she makes it from scratch and adds big fluffy marshmallows.” Looking up at his father, he sighed. “I really like [y/n], daddy.” 

“I’ll make sure to get her recipe.” Raising a brow, he nodded. “I like her too, buddy.” 

Jack handed off his mug to his father, nestling into bed, he hesitantly spoke out. “Do you like her, like her?”

Tucking him in, “What do you mean, Jack?” 

Yawning, Jack closed his eyes. “I wish she never had to leave. I wish she could be my second mommy.” Before Aaron could utter a response, Jack was fast asleep, dreaming about building a gigantic fort with you. 

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Aaron quietly left his room. His son’s last words were replaying in his head. Sure, he had found you to be attractive, it was one of the first things he had noticed when you had introduced yourself. He was stunned by your beauty and captivated by your charm involving children. Aaron noticed that kids gravitated towards you and Jack being no different. 

Never had he thought about pursuing something with you until now. It was extremely important to him for Jack to like any woman he would bring into his life. And if he could guess, Jack would never like anyone more than he liked you. 

Pulling out his phone, he dialed your number. “Hey, [y/n]. Sorry for calling, did I wake you? No, okay good. Oh no, no, Jack’s fine. Actually he just fell asleep, but I wanted to ask you something.” 


If you are interested in stories with happy endings, then you would be better off somewhere else. In this story, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning, and very few happy things in the middle. My name is Lemony Snicket. It is my solemn duty to bring to light the sorry history of the Baudelaire children as it happened so many years ago. But you in the audience have no such obligation, and I would advise all our viewers to turn away immediately and watch something more pleasant instead. This story will be dreadful, melancholy and calamitous, a word which here means “dreadful and melancholy.” That is because not very many happy things happened in the lives of the Baudelaires. Violet, Klaus and Sunny were intelligent children. Charming and resourceful, they had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky. Most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery and despair. I’m sorry to tell you this… but that’s how the story goes.

I Promise (Jack Frost x Reader)

“Are you sure this is safe?”

Jackson offered you his signature smirk, almost as if he knew those words were going to come out of your mouth.

“I’ve been skating on this lake with my sister more times than I can count,” he exclaimed, his brown eyes sparkling with life. “Besides, skating is fun! I can’t believe you haven’t tried it yet.”

“Jackson…” you said, your voice wavering.

Sensing your worry, Jackson’s smirk toned up down to a genuine gentle smile.

(Y/N), I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.

Keep reading

The rule of three:

Three Charmings:


Charming Junior

Charming Junior Junior

Three children:




{While the one with Emma and Charming is different from the other two, it was still Emma going to her parents thinking they don’t know who she is because of a curse. - Also funny how these three scenes happen in:

1x01 - beginning of the 6 season arc

3x12 - halfway through its Season, and halfway through the whole arc

6x22 end of said arc. }

Three relationships:

Charming + Snow

Regina + Emma

Henry + ?

anonymous asked:

H and L networking for each other/together in the business like the dream team they are. I mean, I already knew that but wow pick someone supportive.

honestly, like, the phrase work the room was created in advance just so they could come along later and define it. 

enter a party; harry’s to your left, charming men with children harry’s age and doing that thing he does where he captivates everyone in a five mile radius. he leaves the group with multiple business cards tucked in his pocket: one from the lead editor of a magazine who desperately wants to do a piece on harry and louis, one from the director of a highly anticipated arthouse film, two from record execs who want the dream team to come write for their artists, one from a modeling headhunter who’s heard that if you want louis tomlinson to give you a moment of his time, you have to impress his boyfriend. 

and then look to your right, where louis is the loudest voice in a group of fashionable twenty-somethings, the up-and-comers of the entertainment world. there’s a singer-songwriter who worked with harry in the studio last week and who is slightly dumbstruck when she meets louis, as though she finally understands what harry meant when he was writing about love and forever. there’s an EDM artist steve connected louis with, they’re talking potential mutual promo if louis comes to see his show next month. there’s the guy who designed harry’s suit he’s wearing tonight; they’ll take a picture later to promo the designer’s work, but for now he and louis are discussing the fall line and what harry should try next fashion-wise. they don’t do business cards, but twitter follows, and by the end of the night louis’ fans have added thousands to their following counts too. 

and then after the party harry and louis go home and snuggle, as though they didn’t just own the entire room and everyone in it. 

Did the trailer for Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children movie have you waiting on the edge of your seat for September 30, 2016? These nine peculiar, eerie, wacky reads will help to tide you over until you can see Miss Peregrine’s world come to life on the big screen.

1. The Charmed Children of Rookskill Castle by Janet Fox 

Did someone say eerie setting with a creepy history? When Katherine and her siblings move into Scotland’s ancient Rookskill Castle, they’re met with strange noises and bumps in the night.

2. Wink Poppy Midnight by April Genevieve Tucholke

This is a story about a hero, a villain, and a liar–but who is who? Not knowing what these three teenagers are up to would set anyone on edge.

3. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

When Austin and Robbie accidentally unleash an unstoppable army of giant praying mantises, they accidentally bring about the end of the world. Talk about a weird day.

4. The Appearance of Annie Van Sinderen by Katherine B. Howe

When Wes encounters the mysterious Annie at a seance, he’s drawn into a romance that definitely transcends the ordinary.

5. Half Bad by Sally Green 

In a world where witches live among humans, Nathan is wanted by no one, and hunted by everyone.

6. Control by Lydia Kang

 In a future world where those with special powers are cast aside as mistakes, one group of extraordinary outcasts will prove that they can be heroes.

7. Fiendish by Brenna Yovanoff 

Clementine Devore spent ten years trapped in a cellar, pinned down by willow roots, kept alive by magic. Now she’s out and determined to figure out who put her in that cellar–and why.

8. Blythewood by Carol Goodman 

When Ava gets accepted to Blythewood, she prepared herself for many things–for instance, class differences and family secrets. But she wasn’t quite as prepared for the magic she finds and sinister forces she’ll have to confront.

9. The Name of the Star by Maureen Johnson 

Starting at a new school? Tough. Trying to solve a series of strange murders that may have been carried out by a man that only you can see? Tougher.

He Was Mistaken

(Alexander Hamilton x Reader)
Words: 2700+
Summary: The Reynolds Pamphlet is his ugliest master pieces.
AU: Hamiltime
Warning: cheating, angst??, tired writes, cursing!

A woman and a man. The woman and the man. A man, she had known for years, has sunk a blade in between her shoulder blades and the dead center of her back. The once bursting organ that had sang for him, croaked and shriveled up it’s once love-filled tune into a ugly screech as the blade had punctured it. A women, who had been victimized by this murderous-like betrayal, sobbed in silence. The children already asleep as the tears fell on the letters. The disgusting pamphlet poured dread and anger in her. Letters filled with a honeymoon faze passion she had experienced before the birth of Phillip. The literatures filled with lust and the desire to see each other. She was mistaken how her husband can only write the most wittiest yet the most curved and passionate pieces of art. A fury that had balled up in hot angry tears. Her tongue barely able to materialize any kinds of words. A year. A year of kissing another, sleeping with another, and spending time with another! She was there in front of him, but he turned and rolled into the arms of another. She was his wife! His God damn wife! Do the vows she wrote to him mean paper and ink to him? Was she just a disposable mistake? She is supposed to take care of him. In sickness and in health! The man she had love has gone rouge. Alexander Hamilton has gone rouge! She wish to scream and yell. He could have came up state with his children and wife! He could have spend time under the stars with her, and under the love of his children and his wife! She always thought her husband was filled with knowledge and pride. He and her had mistaken his sharpness with his pride. A dull man with the pride of a thousand.. The children play outside as she stares at the sky. The sky seemed so low and so limited. Her oldest boy in hand with hers. “Ma, are you okay?” He murmurs as his sister and brother scamper around the beautiful (but now so ugly in her eyes) field. Her baby boy, her oldest baby boy had caught sight of such pamphlet-or so she theorized. She was positive that her baby had read such a hideous thing. Phillip worshipped his father’s ground like the loyalist to the king. He would read anything his father composed. Her conscious’s fingers yanked her strings. Lie, it says. Phillip clenched onto his mother’s hand tighter. “I’m doing just alright, Pippa.” She murmured. Her eyes grey and dead as she etched the details of the field. He noticed the pitch fall of her voice. “Is this about Pa, Ma? Is this about-about what he did?” Phillip tone was soft and frightened to open up as if his siblings could hear him like a canine. She kept silent. Her saliva sat on the bottom side of her tongue. Her dry lips kept kept them selves shut. “Ma, please answer me.” The teen begged as he took his other hand to cover the other side of her sweaty hands. “Ma, please talk. Is this about what Pa did?” Phillip shook her arm. She reminisced a memory of her older son. His eyes were big with innocence, widen by a light that he see’s in everyone. His cheeks chubby with babbling curiosity. She cooked a meal from a book of ingredients. Phillip shook her arm frantically,“When’s dinner ready, mama?” He questioned. His voice was high pitched and were filled with excitement. “In a minute,” She would say to shoo him off, but that never worked. “Daddy said that ‘two heads are better than one’!” He squeaks as he scampers over to the seasonings. His small arms belting the containers; Phillip waddled over to the table, and unleash them. “I think that pr-o-verb is from John Hey-wad?” He mumbles as his pinched onto his chin. The women chuckled at his expression. “John Heywood?” “Yeah that guy!” Phillip cheered as he jumped,“Mama, you are so smart! No wonder daddy loves you!” That made his mother smile. Tears began to rush down. Gravity pulling them down, but for her it felt like it was dragging her down. Her heart began to eat the insides of her The older women’s stomach, heavy. Planting her on the damp grass. “Ma, please.” He croaked as both of your intertwined hands were near his heart. “Please answer..” As he placed your hand on his forehead. He whimpered as she hadn’t materialized any words. Her eyes still in the sky. She thought it was the lowest thing that she could compare her love towards Alexander Hamilton. Now the sky seem so high compare to her feelings towards the bastard of a husband. “I’m fine.” She says. The crack of her voice were heard. Her son quietly grew more tears. The feeling of moistures builds up on the back of her hand. Hiccups were erupted from him. Phillip’s body shook in emotions making her sank deeper in the black hole. “Ma, you are not fine!” He retorted. The boy was frightened. His father took their name and broke it. A name that was the next shelf for him to reach when it was time to carry on the legacy of a Hamilton. “I’m fine, Phillip.” (Y/N) Hamilton said sternly. Her brows tightened together while the tears still fell on to her lap. This was not what she had dreamt of when she married Alexander. Phillip sobbed right next his mother. The water falls of feelings pounded against your back. “Pop, broke you, mama.” Mrs. Hamilton, slouched on the edge of the bed. Her sleeping gown held no warmth. The candle next you flickered. It had waved at her as she read the first sent letter. She tried to look in between the lines, but they were tightly locked with lies “I thought I had you for a second…” She rasped with a quiet tone. “But, you never latched on with me.” My Dear Ms. Schuyler, It has been a few days since the ball ended. The sunset creates a beautiful array of purples, oranges, and blues. The lilac section of the sky has gripped onto my brain. It reminds me of something, but I can not remember at this moment. Perhaps, I’ll remeber at the end of the letter. When you receive this letter it has been a week or so since I have sent out my pool of emotions that I have been swimming in for days on end. Excitement has sprung in me every time I hear your name- sadly, it wasn’t you nor was the subject. Despite how popular you are Ms. Schuyler, you never had popped up in the fields of conversations I had been strangled with. I have sculpted this letter with a pen that I wish would never run short with ink, so I could plant words that will grow in your head; every curve in each 'R’ is cupid’s arrow twisting it’s way into my heart. It plunges so deep that I could feel the feathers tickle me with bliss. Is this how affection towards a (Y/N) Schuyler feels like? A feeling of Shakespeare’s world feelings. So deep and so confusing, but so elegant? Knowing that Cupid is behind you and me, I hope it has pierced you with a pleasurable and joyous flame in your heart as soon you get this letter. For as I, the feeling has only blossomed even more the first time I had laid my eyes on you. This burning feeling will never happen with another, but only with you. As I write this letter, the stars seem to climb through heavens window. They are bright and filled with dancing energy that keep themselves up at night. The energy that the stars contain, consume me and my being as you talked to me that night. Though this letter has been etched with needle-fine details of my emotions towards you, my hand and brain could never write out my desire and interest towards you, Ms. Schuyler. So, I would like to show you on the 17th of this month in the evening where the sun climbs down and the stars awake. I heard the stars are bright that night if not I heard the lake is beautiful. If not, I know if I look at you, every star and lake would be jealous of your beauty and graces. In addition, the reason why I stared at the sun like a chest full of gold is because the dress you had elegantly fitted reminisced the color of the ball of flame. From yours, Alexander Hamilton She has repeatedly read the letter over and over again. He had only gripped onto her and called her his. His poetry only tripped Mrs. Hamilton into a pit of his mockery. Her family rooted with money, money he desires to have ever since he was a child. She had fell into his sad stories and his charms. She provided children and her love towards a man who she thought gave back that love! Mrs. Hamilton growled as she yanked the candle holder from the table while she slammed the now crumpled paper on the night stand. She stomped over to the miniature chest of (suppose) love letters. The stacks of papers were barely wrinkles. They now held tears as she stared down at them. She used to delicately touch these letters from her husband. But now, all she cares about is his faux love towards her, that was once contained with care and secrecy from the children, to become obliterated from this sheet of reality she drowned in. Mrs. Hamilton frantically clenched all of the letter with her hands. She crumpled and teared them apart. The sounds of angry tears from her old letters has satisfied her. The wife of Alexander Hamilton had frantically thrown the articles of letters into the fire pit. Her arms growing sore as she threw the papers aggressively. Mrs. Hamilton yelled out in frustration as she did the deed. Her anger and sadness only growing more. Some of the papers missing the target. Plucking the papers off of the floor, she angrily threw them where they belonged. The silver candle holder shined brighter than usual. The fire still waved at her as she glared at it. The candle holder was a gift from her mother as a wedding gift. She dumped the candle on top of the pile of now useless letters. She could hear the door knob rattle, and the floor boards creak. The tired woman clenched tighter on the handle of candle holder. “My love, I’m home–” She catapulted the holder at the door with anger and sadness fueling her strength. The woman had noticed the air around her felt swollen as she tried to breath. She huffed with anger. The sierra burn door was now chipped. She roared in frustration as the hot tears burned down her face. Her bastard of a husband peaked and sneaked his way through the door. “You bastard! You fucking bastard of a husband!” She screamed. “I loved you with all of my being! I had made vows! I had created our children!” The wife screeched. She could see the small tears reflecting the light from the fire. “I was patient with you and you decided to bring a woman in our bed!” She huffed and puffed angrily. Her face was masked in warmth. “I told you to take a break and spend time with me! With your children for god sake!” She ranted. “I have married a foolish boy!” The woman spat. “You have cheated on me. We have children, Alexander. Children!” She snapped. She balled up her fist. The woman shook with rage. “Do you want to know what happened when Phillip had found out?” She questioned. “Our first born! Our first son!” Mrs. Hamilton screeched. “He cried! He was frightened!” The women exasperated. He said,'Pop broke you, mama.’ and you did Alexander Hamilton.“ She growled. "You god damn did.” “(Y/N)–” “Don’t!” She barked. “You have made me miserable! You have made one of your children miserable!” Alexander winced. “But, the worst thing you did.. do you know what the worst thing you did?” He kept silent. The Hamilton boy had stared at the ground. His silver tongue has been cut off. His witty mouth has been tamed by her rage and sorrow. “You had publicly humiliated me and our children! You publicly punished me and our children! Having a year affair with another women was already horrid enough! But to knock on the door of the whole city and to scream your affair! You despise me, Hamilton!” Mrs. Hamilton barked at him. “You have changed your legacy into a shit hole for horses.” She growled. “Do you have anything to say to yourself, Alexander?” “It was an act of political sacrifice.” He murmurs like a child in scolding. She scoffed, “Sacrifice? Are you ignorant? Are you stupid?” She asked harshly. “You already had wrecked your reputation towards your oldest son, towards the government, which you stand for as the first sex scandal- I think one of your best achievements, and finally you have made a reputation for me. You are just a pathetic man.” She ranted. Her palms felt sweaty as she glared at her husband. “What kind of man would say that to his wife? Am I your second choice with your legacy? Do your children go after our legacy?” You screamed. The quiet sat in between them and around their room they shared. “Say nothing to your wife.” She mutters under her breath. Mrs. Hamilton swiftly yanked the ring off of her finger. “Take this damn ring.” She hissed as she threw at the man. The jet black haired man snatched the ring from the air as she stomped over to the closet- his hands frantically trying not to drop it. “(Y/N), Wait. Love!” Alexander croaked after her. He finally says something, (Y/N) thought to herself. She plucked her suit case from the shelf above. The wife heard scampering,“W-where are you going, (Y/N)?” “I’m leaving. I’m getting away from this damn house.” “W-what?” “I thought I made it clear, so you didn’t have to say 'what?’.” She spat as she walked over to the bed, and slammed the case on the mattress. Alexander figure was shrunken as he watch her snatch her clothing. “P-please don’t leave me, (Y/N). I-I can fix this! Please give me another chance!” He begged. (Y/N) ignored his pleads as she stuffed the clothing in her suit case. The fire reflects its colors on the walls of the master bedroom. “(Y/N), please, love. D-don’t leave me.” He whimpers as he pins her still. His hands cupped with her smaller hands. “I love you! I didn’t mean for this to happen!” “If you didn’t mean it. It wouldn’t happen.” She answered as (Y/N) stared down at him. “Please!” He finally sobs. Alexander Hamilton was down on his knees. He looked vulnerable, it had broken her heart. “Don’t leave me!” He begs as he bury his face into her hands. “Please.” He whispered while pecked the back of her hand- just like he did when they had first met. “Please, I beg of you.” He murmurs. Alexander hiccups as he continues to nuzzle with your hand. Pain had stirred and scrapped in your gut as you watched him sob and beg. The feeling made you weak, and it stung while he had pecked kisses on the back of your hand. You stared at him with a blank expression as he glanced up. Hope shined in his eyes as he did, but soon was dulled out by your expression. Alexander sighed. “I’m leaving, Alexander.” She states stoically. (Y/N) strolls back to her suit case. She shuts it and pull it down from the bed. (Y/N) lugs the suit case and swings the door open. “Where are you going?” He asked once more. “To my parents.” She answers quietly. “What about the kids?” “Haven’t you noticed? It’s quiet..” She murmurs. “ I wouldn’t torture them with out arguments.” You finally say as you began to walk out of the room. “(Y/N), I’m sorry.” “I can’t forgive you, Alex. I need time.” “I know, but just please keep your ring.” “No,” You began. “I’m no longer a Hamilton, but a Schuyler. If I ever do forgive you, it would be a gift from the heavens for you. I’m the closest perfect you will ever get. I love you, but it’s with less meaning now, Alexander…” She shared with him. “I will drop the kids off every Saturday and Sunday, knowing how busy you are.” She added. “I will see you later, my love.” She farewelled. Ms. Schuyler had left her husband with a dreadful feeling. Sobs escaped from him as she had left the building. They were silent most of the time, but sometimes he would scream in pain. He felt like crumpled paper. Sorrow hitting him where the Cupid arrow had once shot him. The bed felt cold and he hated it. The fire that burned in his room never helped. Funny how he’s the one hurting as well. He is a ignorant and pathetic man. Back when he lived in his home town, he wrote about two women. A women that was sweet and purified and another that was rogue and dirty. Did he really fall into a trap that had its own warning? Was he really that stupid? He, of course, had mistaken the women, who had purities, and took advantage. A two rings in one hand and on the other was on his heart. He was mistaken. — Shit I’m on mobile again