Who Created The Best Old Man Consequences Fanart?

There's nothing more shattering than hearing that you're signed off as a collateral to marry in order to clear off your uncle's stupid debts. "So this is it" I pull the hoodie over my head and grab my duffel bag that is already stuffed with all my important stuff that I need for survival. Carefully I jump down my window into the bushes below skillfully. I've done this a lot of times that I've mastered the art of jumping down my window. Today is different though, I'm not coming back here, never! I cannot accept marrying some rich ass junkie. I dust the leaves off my clothe and with feathery steps, I make out of the driveway. A bright headlight of a car points at me making me freeze in my tracks, another car stops and the door of the car opens. There's always only one option, Run!

At my own wedding, the groom switched—Malcolm Lowell bailed, and the best man stepped in. Lumi, the Irving's real daughter, latched onto Malcolm's arm and smirked from the crowd. "I was just feeling a little low," she said. "Didn't think Malcolm would go this far for me." Malcolm raised a brow. "I just wanted to make her happy. You took her spot for years. Time to pay it back. This is for your own good." That's when it hit me—this whole wedding was a setup, a twisted show just to entertain Lumi. All because I was the adopted one. I'd lived in her place for over two decades. I didn't cry. Didn't freak out. I just took the new groom's hand, faced the priest, and said, "Keep going."

Every action generates a reaction, every act has its consequence regardless of whether it is good or bad. What goes around comes around and there you go. Nothing was planned and this careless act had a consequence that hit everyone hard. She didn't know what to do and he didn't want someone she didn't love, but think about that before anything else. Both put up with each other, one hates the other, for thinking that one destroyed the other's life. They don't know how to control themselves, she gets hurt and he doesn't know how to go back, maybe it's too late or maybe not. There is still hope, hope that unites them forever and ever.

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"

***Explicit 18+*** "I've missed the warmth of your pussy, the feel of it. God Ginevra, you're so fucking perfect." I rasped and tightened my grip on her. I began rocking her against me ever so gently with parted lips. Her tight pussy very often gripping unto my dick, taking me hostage with each rock against me and a loud scream finally escaped from the back of my throat. *** The game of chess is one love cannot salvage. When the king and the queen come out to play, they have no other goal set before them if not going at each other's throat for the kill until a winner emerges. This is the game of the mafia, the game that'd never allow Love exist between two rivals. They want to love and care for each other but don't know how- all they've known all their lives is loyalty to their famiglia and name. What would happen when the only option becomes death?

In the second month of my relationship with my best friend Sophie Vaughn's older brother, Elias Vaughn, Thanksgiving arrives. Sophie leans in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Elias is bringing his girlfriend home for the holiday. Let's see what all the fuss is about." I take my time getting ready, heart fluttering with hope. Just maybe, I'll finally be formally introduced as his girlfriend. But the moment I step inside, I see him with another elegant, beautiful woman, smiling as he introduces her to his parents. "This is my girlfriend," he says. He then inadvertently looks over at me, stiffening for a moment, clearly caught off guard. But just as quickly, he recovers and turns to the woman beside him. "That woman over there is my sister's friend and a part-time student. You could say she's a maid in our household." A maid? As it turns out, I'm nothing more than someone for him to kiss and sleep with. I was never someone worthy of standing by his side publicly. I turn away and board the train back to Ashcroft University, choosing my future over another night in his bedroom.