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a-night-at-the-0pera · 6 years ago

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Virtues Uncounted, Part 1

Series Pairings: Gwilym Lee x Reader, Joe Mazzello x Reader

Summary: The year is 1820, in the charming English village of Ashwick Heath. You are a young lady of distinction, rather bored during the long summer months in your family’s country estate. The only reprieve from this boredom is the handsome, if shy, Mr. Gwilym Lee, the youngest son of the noble family living adjacent to you. One June day, a carriage arrives carrying a mysterious visitor, an auburn-haired young American who has much to learn about the etiquette and grace of society in Regency England if he ever hopes to acquire lands, a title, and most importantly, a wife.

Chapter Warnings: none, really...some talk of marriage, a little family squabbling.

Chapter Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: I am so excited for this Regency AU! My history-loving ass is quaking. This first chapter is laying quite a bit of exposition, so there is not as much drama as future chapters will have, but I PROMISE the drama is on it’s way! With the proper and shy Mr. Gwilym Lee and his bungling American cousin Joseph Francis Mazzello III, how could the drama not follow? Thank you to @o-holynight for the gorgeous moodboard! I do realize that the moodboard above depicts a white woman reading as (Y/N) does in the fic, but I have tried to write (Y/N) in the fic as neutrally as possible, so all of you who are interested can read and enjoy this story. This is a work of fiction, and all place names and peerage titles are made up by me, for ease of writing. As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! I love to hear your thoughts on the stories I write!

~~~~~~~~~

Early June in the English countryside is a time of year awash in golden light and the sweet scent of wildflowers, their vibrant hues dotting the meadows and roads that wind across the rolling hills. The grass is green, the wind gently rippling through the rich emerald blanket covering the landscape. It is quite unlike the bustling streets of London, hot and cramped and stinking of chamber pots and court intrigue. Refreshing, one might call it.

However, you would call it quite dull. It has only been a week since you and your parents packed up the townhouse and moved to your country manor for the summer, but you already find yourself longing for the excitement of city life. The most interesting thing to happen here in the town of Ashwick Heath today was the local baker running out of iced buns before ten’o’clock.

Your mother has spent the morning directing the servants in the opening of the upstairs rooms in the manor, instructing precisely how the dust covers should be removed from the furniture and so on. In the mid-morning light, the dust glows gold, swirling around the high-ceilinged rooms like little fairies, welcoming you back to another summer of utter boredom. The only solace you have are your books and your piano forte, which is in desperate need of tuning after many months of sitting untouched in the parlor.

Tragically, the piano tuner will not be coming for another week, so you only have one option to pass the time. Thumbing along the spines of the countless volumes in the library, your fingers drift across a newly-bound book, it’s spine still stiff and leather uncracked. Ivanhoe, a new release from late last year that quickly became the talk of salons and ballrooms all over London. The staff must have already unpacked the trunk you brought, loaded with new adventures to devour this summer.

You quickly tug the volume off the shelf and tuck it under your arm, traipsing out of the library to your bedroom to grab a parasol. While the country life may be boring, sitting outside in the fresh June air with a novel is one of the greatest pleasures you can have here. If only real life was as exciting as the novels that you bought whilst in London.

As you step out onto the patio, the breeze ruffles the white muslin of your morning dress, the hem dancing along the hot stones beneath you. Delicately grasping the light, airy material, you lift your skirt and tiptoe into the grass, careful not to muddy any inch of the gown. Mother would surely scold you if you came back for dinner with another ruined hemline.

“Young ladies do not go gallivanting through the fields, (Y/N), dearest,” you mock in your mother’s snippety tone, giggling to yourself as you make your way to the bench in the rose garden. The heady scent of the pink flowers engulfs you as you settle onto the delicately wrought metal, warm to the touch from the bright sun overhead. With a sigh, you open the delicate parasol, the white lace shielding you and your book from the harsh glare overhead. Laying the book on your lap and resting the parasol on your shoulder, you hungrily begin to devour the novel, tales of dashing knights and elegant ladies filling your imagination.

It must be well past noon when your concentration is broken, a hefty number of chapters pressing onto the left book cover. The sound of a horse whinnying in the distance catches your attention, and you look up from the pages to see a rider off beyond your estate’s wall, in the next field over. You immediately recognize the tall, shapely silhouette of the man astride the horse, a smile playing on your lips.

Mr. Gwilym Lee. Each summer spent here in Ashwick Heath was spent with the Lee family in close proximity, with them owning the sprawling manor and grounds of Moorhead Park, whose lands sat adjacent to your family’s. Gwilym’s parents, the Earl and Countess of Moorhampton, often threw lavish summer balls, attracting guests from leagues away, the glittering chandeliers and expensive champagne creating a dreamlike environment through which you would all dance the night away. You have spent several of those magical evenings in young Gwilym’s company, the handsome (if shy) man often sticking to the edges of the room to avoid the dancing, preferring to sit in the delicate wooden stools on the perimeter. His greatest love is equestrianism, and he always appreciates how, on those warm summer evenings, you sit by his side and ask him questions about the stable, eyes shining in the candlelight.

Seeing him again after all these months sends a little thrill through your heart. It could be said that you have a small schoolgirl crush on your handsome neighbor, but more than anything else, you consider him a friend and companion during the dull summer months. Placing a ribbon between the pages of your book, you rise from the bench, waving the parasol in what your mother would deem a rather unladylike manner.

“Gwilym! Hello!” you shout, your other gloved hand curling around your lips to project your voice further across the fields. The horse rounds towards you, the rider flicking the reins and propelling his steed through the wildflowers towards the rose garden. As they approach the stone wall, Gwilym leans down onto the horse’s neck, twisting his hands in the creature’s silky mane as it jumps gracefully over the barrier, hooves landing with dull thuds on the other side. In mere moments, the white horse is panting in front of you, its handsome rider grinning brilliantly.

“Miss Woolmere, how lovely it is to see you again!” Gwilym says, swinging his leg over the horse and dismounting, stretching out one of his hands to capture one of yours, bringing it to his lips for a swift kiss.

“Oh, have we reverted to the formal, again, Mr. Lee?” you tease, “I’ve told you many times to call me (Y/N).”

A slight blush creeps up from under his elegantly tied neckerchief, and he nods.

“My apologies, (Y/N). But then I insist you call me Gwilym.”

“Of course, Gwilym,” you smile at him, “what brings you to my rose garden?”

He chuckles, stroking the white fur of his horse’s neck, “you, waving and shouting at me.”

“Yes, that…” you demur, coughing awkwardly.

“Have your parents settled in well for the summer?” Gwilym asks, mercifully shifting the topic with ease. He always has a knack for that.

“Mother is currently bossing everyone around like she is the Queen herself, and Father is busy in his study, of course. I decided to escape for the afternoon,” you explain, gesturing towards the book laying on the bench.

Gwilym raises his eyebrows and reaches for the book, pausing just before his fingers make contact.

“May I?”

“Of course,” you nod, smiling at him as he reads the cover.

“Ivanhoe,” he muses, “I remember hearing my older sister mention this book a few months ago, but I never read it myself. What is it about?”

“Knights and tournaments and witch trials and beautiful ladies and other things like that…it’s quite captivating,” you gush, “it was published late last year, but since then has been the talk of London.”

“The talk of London, you say?” Gwil asks, amusement pricking at the corners of his mouth.

“If you’d like, you could borrow it,” you offer.

“Oh no, (Y/N), I couldn’t possibly!” he says, shaking his head.

“Please, Gwilym, I’ve read it before, it’s no trouble for you to borrow it,” you insist, pressing the book into his hands. He stares for a moment down at the book, flicking his gaze up to meet yours, hesitantly.

“Okay then,” he nods, a lopsided grin plastered on his face, “perhaps we could discuss it together sometime?”

“That would be lovely!”

That enchanting smile stays on as he tips his riding hat to you, placing one foot in the stirrups of his saddle and re-mounting the horse.

“I look forward to it, too, (Y/N),” he says, “and I am quite sorry, but Ajax and I must run off now. I don’t want to be late.”

You reach out and pet the horse’s neck, looking up at Gwilym with a questioning glance.

“Are you hosting an event at Moorhead Park tonight?”

He shakes his head, a brown lock of hair flopping forward onto his brow, “If we were, you would have been the first to be invited. No, we have a guest arriving, some distant cousin of ours.”

“How exciting!” you enthuse, “how long will they be staying?”

“I am not sure,” Gwilym shrugs, his smile faltering a bit, “most likely through the summer.”

You nod, giving a few last pats to Ajax’s mane.

“Well, I would hate to be the reason you are late, Gwilym. Please give my regards to your family, and do call again soon! I am eagerly awaiting your thoughts on Ivanhoe,” you say with a wide smile.

“I will read quicker than the wind,” he replies, giving you a quick wink from Ajax’s back before snapping the reins, guiding the horse back over the stone wall and through his father’s fields.

With your source of entertainment now gone, you make your way back to the house, trying to keep your slippers from sinking into any of the early summer mud puddles. Once across the threshold, you attempt to slip upstairs to your bedroom, but a creaky floorboard gives you away.

“(Y/N)? Is that you, dearest? Come into the parlor, please.”

You silently curse under your breath, taking a deep inhale and mustering up a polite smile for your mother, who is perched elegantly on one of the recently-uncovered chairs. She smiles at you, inclining her head towards the chair across from her, a silent demand for your presence. As you sit in the overstuffed chair, she rings a silver bell, summoning your butler.

“Fitzgerald, the tea, if you please.”

Fitzgerald nods, uttering a quick “of course, ma’am” before retreating from the room. In mere moments, he returns with the silver tea tray in his hands, set with two delicate porcelain cups and an elegant tea pot, steam pouring from the spout.

“Mrs. Gibbs made the biscuits fresh just an hour ago,” he says, “she knows they are your favorite, Miss (Y/N).”

You smile up at him, hastily removing your gloves and reaching for one of the biscuits, still slightly warm from the oven.

“Please thank her for me, Fitzgerald,” you insist, taking a bite of the buttery treat. A few crumbs flake off, landing in your lap, and your mother sniffs in disdain.

“(Y/N), a lady does not spill food all over herself.”

“Well, thank goodness I’m just a baron’s daughter, not a lady,” you mutter, popping the rest of the biscuit into your mouth.

“What was that, dear?” your mother asks, a slight edge in her voice.

You simply shake your head, continuing to chew as Fitzgerald pours the tea and bows slightly, leaving the two of you alone to your afternoon ritual. Swallowing slowly, you take a sip of the scalding liquid to wash down any remaining crumbs. Your mother arches a brow at you, clearly not amused.

“Well?”

“As you have reminded me many times, Mother,” you purr, “a lady does not speak with her mouth full.”

“At least you’ve learned something from me,” she pouts, rolling her eyes.

The two of you stir your tea, a comfortable silence filling the room. Each summer afternoon, you and your mother take tea together in the parlor, as a chance to discuss your day and, more importantly, “women’s matters,” also known as local gossip. After a few sips, she places her teacup gently back on the saucer, the clatter of porcelain hardly noticeable. How elegant.

“So, dear, where were you today? Off in the garden?” she asks, clearly knowing the answer.

“Mhm,” you nod, “just reading.”

“Reading what?”

“Ivanhoe.”

“Oh, a marvelous book,” your mother beams, “did you put it away when you got home? It is one of my favorites, too.”

“No,” you murmur, a little nervous for your mother’s reaction, “I lent it to Mr. Lee.”

“Mr. Lee…,” your mother muses, trying to place the name to the face.

“Mr. Gwilym Lee, the Earl’s youngest son,” you prompt, rolling your eyes.

Your mother beams, excitement radiating from her body, “Of course! What a handsome boy. Where did you encounter him?”

“I saw him riding his horse over on his land, and I called him over to say hello.”

“Oh, (Y/N), do not tell me that you shouted for the man,” your mother tuts, a disdainful curl to her lips.

“Of course I did, Mother, how else would I summon him?” you snap back, “He is my friend and I wished to speak with him.”

“Well, you know, a lady…”

“Yes, a lady does not shout,” you grumble, reaching for another biscuit.

“And a lady does not gorge herself on sweets,” you mother scolds, reaching to snatch the treat from your hands, but you quickly pop the biscuit into your mouth, a gleeful smirk on your face.

She lets out an exasperated sigh, “Whatever will I do with you, (Y/N)?”

“Leave me alone to read, perhaps?” you airily offer, leaning back in the chair, “anyways, I lent Mr. Lee the book, and he promised to return it soon. He was in a hurry anyways, apparently they are expecting a guest.”

Your mother’s ears perk up at that tasty morsel of information, leaning forward conspiratorially in her chair.

“A guest? Did he happen to mention who it is?”

“Unfortunately not,” you sigh, “I suppose we will just have to wait to find out.”

“Finally, some intrigue here in Ashwick Heath,” your mother muses, taking a dainty sip from her teacup.

“Intrigue? In this little village? Preposterous!” another voice booms out, the shock of it causing you to choke a little on your tea.

“Father, you mustn’t sneak up on me,” you chastise breathlessly, tapping your fingers on your chest to clear your airways of Darjeeling.

He laughs heartily, leaning down to give you and your mother each a quick peck on the cheek before grabbing a biscuit from the tray.

“Dear, our daughter was just telling me that she happened upon the young Mr. Lee in the garden this afternoon,” your mother says lightly, raising her eyebrows at your father. He gives her a knowing glance before turning back to you, a few biscuit crumbs caught in his mustache.

“Oh, Gwilym is a fine young gentleman. What did the two of you discuss? His horses?” your father asks with a lightness that seems forced. Knowing that your mother will despise the action, but doing so nonetheless, you roll your eyes quite dramatically, sighing.

“Must you two always talk about him this way?” you glower, slumping down in your chair, “it is rather tiresome.”

Your parents have been speaking about Gwilym in this oddly conspiratorial manner for years now, and, despite their best attempts at secrecy, you know why. The Earl of Moorhampton is a supremely wealthy and respectable man, and while Gwilym, as the youngest son, is not his direct successor, marrying someone like him would certainly stabilize your position as a lady of grace and dignity. After all, your father had only been elevated recently to Baron of Woolmere, and despite having owned this house for generations, aristocracy is still a new way of life for your family. Of course, you have always found Gwilym to be handsome and charming, but the fact that both sets of parents so eagerly desire a match between the two of you makes you all the more determined to remain simply friends with the shy equestrian. Unfortunately for your parents, you are nothing if not stubborn.

“Dearest, we are simply pointing out the fact that a rather handsome and eligible young man happens to live down the lane from us,” your mother comments, “it is quite shocking to me that you have not noticed. Perhaps we should call the optometrist.”

A heat rises in your cheeks as you stare at your mother, eyebrows knitting together in indignation.

“I have…noticed,” you hiss, setting down your teacup with a harsh clatter, “but I would appreciate you and Father taking your noses out of my business.”

While your father appears moderately scandalized by your outburst, your mother coolly purses her lips together, staring appraisingly at you over her cup.

“(Y/N), since you and Mr. Lee are not betrothed, nor even courting for that matter, I do not see any business between the two of you that I could possibly stick my nose in.”

Your father chortles, “oh my dear, that wit is precisely why I married you,” patting your mother on the knee. All you can do is gape, open-mouthed, at your mother, who is smiling wickedly back at you. One must admit, she can have a quick tongue when goaded.

The sharp ring of the front door bell breaks up your little family scene, with your father rising quickly to his feet and starting towards the entrance hall.

“I did not know we were expecting anyone,” your mother shrills, clearly miffed at the thought of unannounced company.

“I had no such plans either, my dear,” your father calls, muttering something to Fitzgerald in the hallway. You can hear the groan of the old hinges as the butler heaves open the large wooden door. A loud and brash voice sounds from the front of the house, but you cannot make out the words they are saying, nor the words your father speaks back to them. Curiosity is burning deep in the pit of your stomach, but under your mother’s watchful gaze, you know you cannot step into the entrance hall and investigate this matter for yourself. In order to attempt to sate the beast of nosiness, you walk to the window and brush aside the rich curtains, peering through the glass to the front drive.

An elegant yellow carriage sits a in front of the entrance, its driver looking quite bewildered as he looks around your estate. Unfortunately, the person who has been travelling inside the carriage is standing too close to the front door for you to see them properly. Clearly, they are travelling alone, as there is no one else seated inside, but there are quite a few trunks weighing down the chassis. Whoever it is must be travelling from far away, or will be staying at their destination for quite a while.

A loud laugh rings through the house, pulling your attention back to the voices on the threshold. Has your father invited this mysterious traveler into the house? For a brief moment, you lean away from the window, expecting your father to return to introduce the person to you and your mother, but alas, the next sound you hear is the front door being painstakingly pushed closed by Fitzgerald. You whip around, fingers tangling in the curtains as you peer back out the window again, just in time to catch a glimpse of auburn hair disappearing back into the carriage. The driver snaps the reins and the horses take off, turning quickly down the front drive again and back towards the main road.

Your father returns a moment later, bemusement dancing in his eyes.

“Who was that?” your mother asks, folding her hands expectantly on her lap.

“Some lad with the strangest accent, looking for the Lee estate.”

You turn back towards your parents, letting the curtain fall behind you.

“That must be the relative that Gwilym, uh…I mean, Mr. Lee was speaking about,” you falter, silently reprimanding yourself for slipping up. Despite the fact that you and Gwilym have insisted on using each other’s first names, it is still improper for you to do so in the presence of others, especially your parents.

“Must be,” your father muses, stroking his sideburns thoughtfully, “I believe the young man was from America…such harsh pronunciation.”

“An American cousin?” your mother mutters airily, “how intriguing.”

You simply nod, turning to see the carriage fade into the distance along the winding drive up to Moorhead Park.

“Intriguing indeed.”

* * *

Just as your family is tucking into the excellent wild berry trifle Mrs. Gibbs has whipped up for dessert, the front bell rings again, quieter this time. Fitzgerald quietly pads from the dining room, your father clearly more interested in the sweet whipped cream piled high in his dish than answering the door at this hour.

“Ashwick Heath is simply buzzing today,” your mother exclaims to no one in particular, and you hum in assent, following your father’s lead and enjoying the dessert.

Moments later, Fitzgerald returns with a thick envelope, sealed with a circle of deep blue wax. As you are the closest family member to him, the butler hands you the packet, making you set down your spoon. The seal holds the Lee crest, and the elegant handwriting on the front clearly states that the contents are for the whole family. Delicately, you crack the seal and unfold the letter, feeling the expensive, thick stationary between your fingers as your eyes scan the text.

“Well, dearest, what does it say?”

You clear your throat before reading, your heart beginning to pound from excitement:

To the Baron and Baroness of Woolmere and their daughter Miss (Y/N),

The Earl and Countess of Moorhampton cordially invite you to dinner at six tomorrow evening.

~~~~~~~~~

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voltiers-a · 8 years ago

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[ @itaidoshin // cont. ]

The brisk steps of the knight captain bounced off the stone walls of the barracks, alerting every recruit currently lounging in their bunk to her impending arrival – the distinct, tinny sound of her metal plated armour shifting as she wove her way through the enclosed halls made it easy to identify her as a superior – the soft leather gear afforded to new bloods moved silently, never arousing anyone to their presence.

They never had a chance to leap from their relaxed positions, assuming a salute & snap a quick, respectful greeting, however, as she did not stop for more than half a beat at each doorway. Scanning the interior – or, rather, who resided in each – with a quick flick of her gaze before moving on without a word.

Sachiko had been called to an unplanned meeting with the Commander a little past noon. This wasn’t incredibly strange, many of her duties included parleying with the leader of the knighthood – handing in reports, discussing strategy & weekly check-ins on supplies – but upon stepping into his office today, she immediately realised this was no ordinary meeting. Two recruits sat sulking in the corner, scowling at their feet, nursing bloodied & bruised injuries, with their disgruntled knight captain at their side, gave her all the information she needed.

This was Kazuya’s doing.

Or, so they would’ve had her believe.

He is your charge, Isaksen — she was reminded in a tone so bitter it could curdle milk, though she was sure to give no indication of how it made her feel on her visage — you fought so hard for he, a common thug, to be accepted into our ranks, & yet he has brought nothing but headaches for us all. Do something about him, before I do.

As little as Sachiko enjoyed this particular comrade for his snippety demenour that did nothing but scream noble born, she knew him well, & knew equally well when the inflexion in his voice was something to take note of. That had been no throwaway remark.

With this weighing heavily upon her, she stopped at the final door of the barracks. She had a clear view of him & felt her expression stiffen on her face as she noted his pained movements & strained smile – injuries far less than what the other two had suffered, but injured none-the-less.

Whatever they said I did this time… it wasn’t me, yeah?

You know me; I’ve been a good boy

Good? No, she could not describe Kazuya as good. That didn’t mean she didn’t believe him, but he was still very much – unconsciously or not – clinging onto the alias given to him by the peasants of the slums – Arashi, he was a storm, & storms rarely ever bring good tidings ; but she wouldn’t have brought him into this world if she thought that’s all there was to him.

There were times – be it when they were training together or out on patrol, or even during the discussions shared between the two about everything & nothing they found themselves losing hours to – where she saw what she had seen the day of their first meeting. A fire, a determination cleverly concealed behind nonchalance & a lazy smile, one that he weaponised & could use at his will, to get him out of a tight spot or turn the tide of a battle, with or without the help of fellow recruits, or even her. He was still very much a lone wolf, wild &feral ; perhaps how he would always be, how he should be, yet there was something in the way he moved, spoke, smiled, that insisted he could use all of that for good, if he applied himself,believed in himself, believed in her desire to get him to that point.

He may not be good,

not right now,

but he could be great.

Silence befell them both & hung tightly in the air. She remained at the door for a moment longer, eyes fixed on his own, before entering his space ; a few long strides is all it took before she reached him & her gaze fell to the hem of his shirt. Messily half-tucked into his trousers, the knight captain craned her neck around his side ————- half a bandage hanging out of the section of shirt he had failed to tuck like a tail. He had tried to hide this from her.

“… What did they say this time?” Her voice melts in her throat, soft & careful as nimble hands pull his shirt up, dark eyes darting across the areas of skin peeking through the gaps in the bandage, inspecting the damage. The ever-present frown on her brow flinched, deepening a fraction before dropping the pull-over back across his torso. Disapproval was not written across her face, but concern, with a slight heat of anger as the words of her fellow knight captain rang through her head & the smug faces of those recruits flashed across her vision.

A few years ago she had more or less been in his position, before cementing a reputation as cold & ruthless & unforgiving. Perhaps that was why she had grown so fiercely loyal to Kazuya in such a short space of time, his plight was her own, & her desire to help him fulfil his full potential despite what others ( or he himself ) might think now drove her. She had, & for as long as he was her charge, would always have his back — already prepared to wrestle the truth out of him & present it to the Commander ( while old, he was fair & kind, & one of the few she knew to also believe in Kazuya — whether the recruit himself knew it or not, was unbeknownst to her ), or extract their own version of revenge. Whatever best suited him.

“Lift your arms as far as is comfortable, we have to clean & bandage these properly.” Taking a hold of the hem of his shirt, she waited for him to obey. Brown eyes drifting up to meet his – the mere inch in height difference allowing her to see the smaller injuries across his face too – Sachiko cocked a brow up at him.

“Just to be clear, I’m not asking here, I’m telling. Be that good boy you claim to be, Kazuya-kun, & do as you are told.”

He doesn’t answer immediately, recognising when he’s caught; Kazuya merely sighs as she reaches for his shirt and examines his wound, obeying her order and shifting for easier access. The bandages are practically unraveled by now, merely sticking to where the blood is thickest along the cut in his side. Pale gaze fixed pointedly away from hers, he considers what to say.

“Just the usual shit, y’know,” is what he settles for, tone gruff and smirk wry. “Wasn’t listening when the other guy decided a fist to the face was going to get my attention.”

A half-truth; there had been the usual comments about him, naturally -- that’s how these incidents always start. But they went one step further and brought up the person who brought him in. Questioned her honor and dignity, among other things. That she’d earned her metals on her back with her legs spread. That filth like him could only be here because this place has already been stained and stains only spread when left alone.

Kazuya had intended to breeze right past them as he had with others before them, but an odd pull and unfamiliar spark in his chest kept him rooted to the ground, drawing him back to them. Sachiko would definitely disapprove if she knew --- she’s a full-fledged woman and knight captain; she can handle a few insults --- but Kazuya has discovered that loyalty can make a man do unnecessary things.

Growing up the way he had, it’s easy to pick up a number of unique skills --- like how to provoke a man with his silence, to rattle them in a way that makes them slip before they even noticed. Which was what he did with his peers -- stoked their ire to the point of irrationality so that they’ll throw the first punch and he could return in kind, multiple times over --- and the fault wouldn’t be his own. Not entirely, at least.

“Got ya in trouble again, did I?” he drawls, tone tinged with mild mirth as though he’s not sitting there with a bruised face and bleeding from a four-inch cut. “Sorry, capt’. Wish I attracted the ladies more than shitty punks -- but we can’t all have what we want, eh?”

#ic: kazuya.#kazuya: knight verse #. rp #// im back #// back again #// w another accidental essay

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cheapvacationaustralia5-blog · 6 years ago

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That implies catchphrases and thing portrayal advancement must turn out to be more easy to use for anybody utilizing Amazon as their fundamental stage. Making sense of and serving to shopper expectation when they look for specific items must turn out to be a piece of each agent's methodology, for future viability in a regularly developing and aggressive commercial center.

Blockchain

Blockchain is one of the more entangled patterns for individuals to get a handle on, however it will be progressive in the following year or two. In the event that you have known about Bitcoin and other cryptocurrencies– fundamentally secure and honest units of currency– blockchain is the innovation setting that enables these sorts of exchanges to happen.

Blockchain is a dreaded word for a few enterprises, where straightforwardness will hurt the go between or the salesperson, as it will put buyers on equivalent balance with companies and organizations. Notwithstanding, it is the decentralization and democratization of the web that will enable exchanges and data to be open, secure, and adaptable to remedy from all gatherings. It will likewise affect SEO. How?

Middlemen–, for example, Google, for instance– won't hold every one of the reigns of intensity and specialist similarly they do now.

For example, Google Adsense crusades are in presence since pages that have advertisements for organizations identified with their industry or specialty wish to work together safely just with genuine organizations. Also, the other way around, individuals paying to have their advertisements shown, have constantly confided in Google to associate them with the suitable sources. Obviously Google has constantly taken a sound bit of income from these exchanges. With personality and security being ensured with blockchain, we will probably observe individuals and organizations on the web working together more straightforwardly.

Importantly, blockchain will diminish click extortion. That is right– simply under portion of all web traffic and advertisement clicking is finished by 'click bots' who are fundamentally commiting extortion that costs organizations a ton of cash, while acquiring nothing terms of income. Blockchain confirms that individuals are for sure individuals, in light of past web nearness and conduct. It additionally observes when a similar individual (as a rule a contender) taps on a promotion over and again, emptying cash out of your advertisement crusade.

Likewise, as blockchain as an idea turns out to be better comprehended by the overall population, an ever increasing number of purchasers will hope to see site pages with blockchain code actualized. This will end up being the new ultra-secure technique for getting items, administrations, and data. Search engine optimization firms should give blockchain coordination benefits sooner rather than later.

All things considered, web advertising systems have dependably must be adaptable as patterns get and subside rapidly on the web.

Your most solid option is to work with a firm that is settled with Search Engine Optimization standards; one that has an awesome reputation with customer reports to demonstrate it, and in addition the intellectual competence to acclimatize new innovations. The group at Millionairium has seen numerous patterns throughout the years, and we generally have a multi-faceted technique for expanding the web perceivability for every customer. Look through our feed for different customer reports, or view some here, here, and here too.

Significant Google SEO Tips to Boost Your Search Rankings

On the off chance that nobody sees your site, does it truly exist? Website streamlining (SEO) is tied in with being seen by the perfect individuals.

Sounds straightforward, isn't that so? It's definitely not.

Improvement is an always advancing space and an extensive one at that. How well your site performs inside Google look is affected by various factors inside a large number of classes.

Here are our best tips for enhancing your Google SEO execution in 2019.

Speed

We've all been there. You tap on a query output believing it will be actually what you're searching for, just for it take always to stack. You clicked out of it and certainly won't be back.

stack speed-significance in-web optimization

With our bustling lives and everything moving at the speed of light, guests have generally expected a quick stacking site. Google knows this and positions quicker stacking pages higher than those that are slower. Individuals will in general remain on destinations longer and have better change rates when pages stack quicker.

Commitment

To what extent do individuals remain on your site?

What are they doing once they arrive? Google screens and measures an assortment of measurements to decide how connected with clients are on your site. A portion of these key measurements incorporate stay time, active visitor clicking percentage, return visits and so on.

As indicated by Ali Husayni, CEO of Millionairium, a compensation for each execution Google SEO benefit, content is the most urgent but most disregarded part of SEO he sees. "We're astounded at close to nothing and such seriously composed substance our clients have when they come to us. We put vigorously in their site's substance and we procure the outcomes for them," says Ali.

Content Creation

"Quality written substance is the final deciding factor". In the event that you have ever invested energy in the advertising scene, you have likely heard this expression. The explanation behind that is individuals gone to your site searching for something. The best and most profitable thing you can give them is quality substance. As expressed above, it gives them motivation to remain on your site longer and interface with your site all the more in this way, enhancing your SEO execution.

More than that, notwithstanding, top notch content enables you to:

Mastery: Users see important substance as a noteworthy legitimizing element to a business. In this way, even past SEO, content makes for an extraordinary beginning stage in encouraging trust among you and a potential customer.

Specialty Content: Ensure that your substance is specific. Give content that addresses your mastery and to what your business centers around. In addition to the fact that this improves commitment, it supports your SEO execution by guaranteeing you are really noting an inquiry.

Long-Form Content: Long-shape content performs better. Once more, not actually what you may have been told, isn't that so? Numerous individuals are under the feeling that shorter is better. We have been sucked into the slogany, snippety universe of old, and with regards to SEO that simply does not fly. Why? Longer substance is all the more captivating. At the point when done well, longer frame content keeps individuals in a single place longer. It is bound to be shared via web-based networking media and furthermore bound to be backlinked by others in your industry. As such, it's bound to be utilized as a source or a prescribed piece to another website's clients or blog's readership. Google's RankBrain calculation (it's third most imperative) remunerates longer substance.

Recordings: Video is a standout amongst the most underutilized types of substance on generally sites. While content is generally speaking the most imperative with regards to SEO, video is basic for a few reasons.

Google SEO

Recordings are well known with an anticipated obligation regarding 80% of web traffic by 2021. They increment stay time and diminish skip rate which is the reason numerous SEO specialists prescribe having them on your point of arrival. Recordings are shareable. on the off chance that a video is sufficiently famous to be secured by the media or put on a Buzzfeed list, that article will contain a backlink to the first video. A lot of brands have made video the essence of their showcasing system.

Pictures: Images are an imperative bit of the substance baffle. Individuals like to see pertinent and excellent pictures in the substance they read. Including the correct pictures inside a substance piece has been demonstrated to expand its likelihood being both perused and recalled later.

Website design enhancement Methods

Past the nuts and bolts, there are strategies that can loan a noteworthy help to your SEO diversion. Website design enhancement experts have numerous methods for doing this. Inside the SEO business, strategies will in general fall under "Dark Hat", "Dim Hat" or "White-Hat" rehearses.

You would prefer not to converse with the man operating at a profit, or dark cap.

Dark cap SEO is tied in with deceiving Google's calculation by endeavoring to enhance your SEO execution without really increasing the value of your site. At the end of the day, it's the alternate route endeavor.

As Ali Husayni, CEO of Millionairium puts it, "Dark cap SEO resembles ransacking the bank.

#SEO Updates 2019

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