#Tips for customizing engagement rings

[angrylightgentlemen]

From Vintage to Modern: The Evolution of Diamond Ring Trends

Diamond rings have long been symbols of love, commitment, and elegance. Over the decades, the styles and designs of diamond rings have evolved significantly, reflecting changes in cultural trends, technological advancements, and personal tastes. This evolution tells a fascinating story of how diamond ring company offerings have adapted to meet the desires of different generations. Let's explore how diamond ring styles have changed from vintage to modern designs.

The Charm of Vintage Diamond Rings

The Early 20th Century: Art Deco and Edwardian Elegance

The early 20th century saw the rise of the Edwardian and Art Deco styles, each bringing its unique charm to diamond rings. Edwardian rings, popular from 1901 to 1910, were characterized by intricate filigree work, lace-like designs, and the use of platinum, which provided a durable yet delicate setting for diamonds. These rings often featured large central diamonds surrounded by smaller stones, creating a dazzling display of sparkle.

Following the Edwardian era, the Art Deco movement (1920-1935) introduced bolder, geometric designs. Rings from this period showcased symmetrical patterns, vibrant colored gemstones, and contrasting materials such as onyx and emerald. The clean lines and architectural influence of Art Deco rings remain popular even today, celebrated for their timeless appeal and striking visual impact.

Mid-20th Century: Retro and Hollywood Glamour

The 1940s and 1950s brought about the Retro era, influenced by the glitz and glamour of Hollywood. Diamond rings from this period were bold and extravagant, featuring large, emerald-cut diamonds and striking settings. Yellow and rose gold became more prevalent, adding warmth and richness to the designs. The rings often incorporated floral motifs, ribbons, and bows, reflecting the romanticism and optimism of the post-war era.

The Transition to Modern Diamond Ring Styles

The 1960s and 1970s: Minimalism and Individuality

As society moved into the 1960s and 1970s, diamond ring styles began to shift towards minimalism and individuality. The Solitaire diamond ring became the epitome of elegance, with a single diamond taking center stage on a simple band. This era also saw an increase in the popularity of unconventional cuts like the marquise, pear, and heart shapes, allowing for more personalized and unique expressions of love.

The 1980s and 1990s: Bigger and Bolder

The 1980s and 1990s marked a return to more extravagant designs, with an emphasis on size and sparkle. Princess cut diamonds became highly sought after, offering a modern alternative to the traditional round brilliant cut. Three-stone rings also gained popularity, symbolizing the past, present, and future of a couple's journey together. Diamond ring companies responded to these trends by offering an array of bold and glamorous options.

Modern Diamond Ring Trends

The 21st Century: Customization and Ethical Choices

In the 21st century, the trend towards personalization has reached new heights. Modern brides and grooms seek rings that reflect their unique love stories and personal styles. Custom-designed rings, often incorporating non-traditional gemstones and mixed metals, have become increasingly popular. Halo settings, where smaller diamonds encircle a larger central stone, continue to be a favorite for those wanting extra sparkle.

Moreover, contemporary consumers are more conscious of ethical considerations. Diamond ring companies are responding by offering conflict-free diamonds and sustainable sourcing practices. Lab-grown diamonds have also emerged as a popular choice, providing a more affordable and environmentally friendly alternative to mined diamonds.

Technological Innovations

Advancements in technology have revolutionized the diamond ring industry. Computer-aided design (CAD) allows for precise customization, enabling intricate and innovative designs that were once unimaginable. 3D printing has also made it easier to create complex settings and prototypes, giving customers a clearer vision of their bespoke rings.

Conclusion

The evolution of diamond ring trends from vintage to modern reflects broader societal changes and advancements. From the intricate elegance of Edwardian and Art Deco designs to the bold glamour of the Retro era, and now to the personalized and ethically conscious choices of today, each period has left its mark on the diamond ring industry. As diamond ring companies continue to innovate and adapt, one thing remains constant: the timeless allure of the diamond ring as a symbol of love and commitment.

[wjdexclusives]

Choosing the Perfect Gold Engagement Rings for Women: Expert Tips

https://www.wjdexclusives.com/blog/choosing-the-perfect-gold-engagement-rings-for-women-expert-tips/

Choosing the Perfect Gold Engagement Rings for Women: Expert Tips

Selecting the perfect gold engagement ring for the special woman in your life is a monumental task, one that symbolizes your love and commitment. At WJD Exclusives, we understand the importance of finding a ring that not only dazzles but also aligns with her unique style and personality. Here, Vahan, the founder of WJD Exclusives (@vahanplus on Instagram), shares expert tips to guide you through this significant purchase.

Understanding Gold Types and Purity

Gold engagement rings come in various types and purities, each offering distinct advantages. The most common options include:

Yellow Gold: A timeless classic, yellow gold is known for its warm, rich hue. It's the purest color and the most hypoallergenic.

White Gold: Popular for its modern and sophisticated look, white gold is a mix of pure gold and white metals like palladium or silver, often plated with rhodium for extra shine and durability.

Rose Gold: Increasingly popular, rose gold offers a romantic and vintage appeal. Its pinkish hue comes from mixing pure gold with copper.

Gold Purity: Measured in karats, with 24K being pure gold. However, pure gold is too soft for everyday wear, so it's often alloyed with other metals. 18K (75% gold) and 14K (58.3% gold) are excellent choices, balancing purity with durability.

Matching Her Style

Every woman has her own unique style, and her engagement ring should reflect that. Consider these factors:

Lifestyle: For women with active lifestyles, a lower-profile setting or a ring made with more durable gold like 14K might be preferable to prevent damage.

Fashion Preferences: Observe her jewelry preferences. Does she prefer classic, vintage, or contemporary designs? Take note of the metal colors she wears most often.

Personality: A bold and outgoing personality might favor a more intricate or statement piece, while a minimalist might prefer a simple and elegant design.

Choosing the Right Setting

The setting of an engagement ring can dramatically affect its appearance and security. Here are some popular options:

Prong Setting: The classic and most common setting, prongs hold the diamond securely while allowing maximum light to enter, enhancing the stone's brilliance.

Bezel Setting: A metal rim surrounds the diamond, providing excellent protection and a modern look. Ideal for women with active lifestyles.

Halo Setting: Small diamonds encircle the center stone, adding extra sparkle and making the center diamond appear larger.

Pavé Setting: Small diamonds are set into the band, giving the ring a continuous sparkle. This setting complements various center stones and shapes.

Diamond or Gemstone Choice

While diamonds are the traditional choice for engagement rings, colored gemstones can add a unique and personal touch. When selecting a diamond, consider the 4 Cs: Cut, Color, Clarity, and Carat weight. For gemstones, focus on color intensity and durability.

Personalizing the Ring

Adding a personal touch to the engagement ring can make it even more special. Consider engraving a meaningful date, initials, or a short message inside the band. At WJD Exclusives, we offer custom engraving services to help make your ring one-of-a-kind.

Budget Considerations

An engagement ring is a significant investment, but it's important to set a budget that you're comfortable with. WJD Exclusives offers a variety of payment plans, including Afterpay, Klarna, Zip, Affirm, Sezzle, and ApplePay, to help you manage your purchase.

Expert Consultation

Choosing the perfect engagement ring can be overwhelming, but you don't have to do it alone. Vahan and the team at WJD Exclusives are here to assist you. Visit us at 55 West 47th Street, #880, New York, NY, or explore our collection online. Follow Vahan on Instagram (@vahanplus) for the latest updates and inspirations.

Conclusion

Finding the perfect gold engagement ring for your loved one is a journey that requires careful consideration of her style, the type of gold, setting, and your budget. With these expert tips and the extensive selection at WJD Exclusives, you're well on your way to making a choice that she'll cherish forever. Visit our store or contact us today to start your journey towards the perfect engagement ring.

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1.5 - Before

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (Standalone series - not related to any other of my stories/characters)

Hello! I know I said this would be a 2 part series but this part of chapter 2 felt like it's own section, so I've created a mini chapter to bridge the two parts and keep us fed - this is a flashback. Part 2 still to come! Thank you all for the love and engagement you've given this story, as always reblogs and comments are appreciated!

💔

Around 18 months earlier…

This was the shift from Hell.

You must’ve accidentally cursed yourself; it was the only explanation for the non-stop chaos the day had wrought. Apologies to any magical being you may have offended.

The kitchen were somehow out of both maple syrup and hash browns. Roscoe must’ve messed up the inventory order again. The customers affected by this egregious error were certainly making themselves known when you broke the news, while Roscoe sheepishly hid back at the grill. You understood their anger, what kind of diner doesn’t have hash browns or maple syrup?! Sure, you shared their pain – but throwing a spoon at your head seemed unnecessary.

The soda machine had leaked all over your arm an hour into your shift and you couldn’t shake the sticky, goopy feeling no matter how many times you had washed your hands. Your shoe broke, the sole flapping against the floor with every step. A table who had spent their entire two hours there demanding an array of elaborate substitutions and ‘softer napkins’ stiffed you on the tip, despite you bending over backwards to help them out. You found yourself counting the minutes until you could clock out, go back to your shoebox apartment, and bury yourself in bed. Not long to go.

“Hon’, sorry…” Lou called out to you, in that tone he always used when he was breaking bad news, “I know you’re swamped – but can you take care of the gentleman in the corner booth? Marcy just went on break and I gotta cover her other tables and whip that jack-off in the kitchen into shape…”

You sighed wearily, you were due to clock off soon and were closing out your section. But you took a deep breath and nodded over at him, “alright, Lou, but only cos it’s you…”

“Thank-you Hon’,” he beamed at you gratefully, disappearing into the kitchen to go yell at Roscoe.

You wandered over to the corner booth Lou had pointed to, swallowing your frustration and fatigue. There was a man sitting by himself, his face obscured by the menu he held up to read. His fingers curled over the sides of the paper, littered with gold rings and scars. One of his hands seemed to be…metal? A strange glove, perhaps? You could see from the sleeves alone that the dark suit he wore was expensive. Not to mention what appeared to be diamond encrusted cufflinks…

Huh. You at least hoped you’d get a good tip out of him.

“Good afternoon, Sir, I’ll be taking care of you today,” you said sunnily as you pulled your notepad and pen from your apron. “What can I get you started with? Some coffee maybe?”

The man didn’t move. The menu remained upright. He was so still it wasn’t almost eerie. You briefly had a crazy thought that he may have died and nobody had noticed, then dismissing your silliness as quickly as it arrived. Besides, dealing with a corpse in the diner was the last thing you needed today.

A few beats passed, but he still didn’t respond. You cleared your throat and tapped your foot to alert him to your presence. Still nothing. You frowned, maybe he didn’t hear you. Maybe he had airbuds in or something.

“Sir…? Would you like to order?” you asked again, your tone a little more strained this time.

Silence. But you saw one of his fingers twitch so you knew he was still alive, at least.

You were used to rude customers, the ones who were outright hostile towards you, and the ones who treated you as if you weren’t there. This was nothing new. But the stress of your shift with the combined fuckery of everything that had gone wrong meant you were hanging on by a thread. Your usual hardiness and thick skin were weakened, and your customer service mask slipped.

“Look buddy…it’s incredibly rude to just ignore your waitress you know…” you snarkily told the hovering menu, “are you gonna order or what?”

You realised what you’d said too late, clapping your hand over your mouth as an amused chuckle came from behind the menu shield. Just as you went to apologise, the paper dropped to the table, revealing the mystery man behind it.

You blinked, a little stunned at the sight of him.

His chestnut brown hair was slicked back into a perfect bun, complimenting the light dusting of stubble on his cut-glass jawline. Pouty pink lips curled into a smirk as his large, bulky frame manoeuvred in the booth to get a better look at you. But you were most struck by his eyes, so blue and piercing that you could drown in them. Better women than you probably had.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I-” you flustered.

“Don’t be,” replied the man commandingly, his voice low but soft, “you were right. That was rude of me, I’m very sorry. I was lost in my own world there for a moment. I hope you can accept my apology”.

You gawped at him, surprised at his reaction. You felt your face flush with embarrassment. “Uh…yeah. Sure. Sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you; it’s just been a long day…” you admitted sheepishly.

He nodded and studied you carefully, his gaze sweeping you from tip to toe. It felt exposing to be looked at like that, but you couldn’t deny the hint of a thrill it gave you too.

“Well, I’m sorry to have added to it,” he smiled at you.

And what a smile. A knee-weakening smile. All white teeth and warmth. And maybe something…darker?

“My name is Bucky. Bucky Barnes…” he extended a hand towards you to shake, his smile dangerous yet enticing, “Doll, I’d love to hear yours…”

💔

[chamomiletealeaf]

❄️ Baby It's Cold Outside ❄️

When you, a barista at a cozy coffee shop is on the closing shift, a familiar face walks in just as you’re about to get badly snowed in from an unexpected snow storm, leaving you with no choice but to stay the night, a café couch, and the company of Simon Riley.

wc: 4,184

a/n: So sorry this took so long ugh! So much has been happening recently with my birthday last week, Christmas, and some mental health issues. But! I'm doing better! And writing always helps. This was super fun to write and I hope you all enjoy! Happy Holidays everyone! <3

Warnings: None! Avoid reading if you don't want to be smothered with super adorable fluffiness.

“Tonight’s forecast will be a high of 35 and a low of 20. Expect up to five inches of snow tonight. Stay safe, and stay warm. Happy Holidays!” The weather woman on the TV cheerily smiled as she gave the weather report. You listened to the TV as you wiped down a tiny circular table the only two customers just got up from in the little coffee shop you worked in, desperately trying to scrub away a dried coffee stain left due to the lack of a coaster used despite it being provided at the table. 

*spritz spritz*

You spray the table again, sighing as you finally wipe away the chestnut colored ring stain. Five inches of snow tonight meaning less customers, or at least you hoped. You loved your job, but man were you tired. It was a holiday weekend after all. You’ve been working at the little coffee shop on the corner of the city for what seemed like ages now. You enjoyed the ambiance of the place. How comforting and cozy it was no matter what time of year, the warmness of the fairy lights illuminating the room, the ring of the bell above the door when people walk in, the quiet chatter of customers enjoying a little break in their day, the soft clanks of dishes and cups being placed down or picked up, and the slight buzz of the coffee machines whirring. It all became something so familiar to you. Comforting in a way. Sure there was always the occasional rude customer that sometimes made you want to cry in the break room or burst out laughing with your coworkers in the back, but that made your job all the more interesting. What made up for it was the amount of good customers you had. Super kind regulars who always tipped well and shared their lives with you, some even inviting you places with the group they were with. 

But your favorite customer was quite the opposite of the other chatty regulars. You only ever saw him a few months at a time, and you never caught his name, but you always recognized him and remembered his order, always patiently awaiting his return. He was a big, tall man. Intimidating even, with light blonde hair that was always a bit messy as if he had just pulled a hat or mask off. You noticed the slightest sliver of tattooed skin on his left forearm when he would reach over to hand you a tip or to pick up the Earl Grey tea he always got with just a little bit of vanilla creamer in it. You always tried to make his orders look pretty to brighten his day, and for him to know it was special from you, so you always put whatever mini flower from the plants in the café you took such good care of in it. You hoped he would notice that his tea was the only one with the little purple flower in it. He only said a few words but tipped very well and would wait his turn to be served by you which you always thought was strange, since other baristas' lines were free. He never shared anything about himself other than small talk you would make with him, but he seemed happy to engage in your conversations due to the slight upturn of his lips when he listened to you talk. He was stealthy and quiet, like a lone wolf keeping distance from other animals, and the way he lurks in the shadows, observing like a ghost. His tired, soft, sweet, honey brown eyes never left yours as you spoke and you swore you could find the faintest hint of relief, no, comfort in them when he listened to ramble. You sometimes got lost in the way his light brown freckles on his nose, cheeks, and around his eyes looked like constellations and you wondered if any of them actually matched any. I mean, he did look like he was sent from the heavens above where the stars lived anyway. He was just that gorgeous. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was a speck of stardust turned into a human, with him being so pretty and all. He was kind of like a shooting star too. If you look away for a second, you might miss him. But if you do catch a glimpse of him once in a blue moon, you can’t help but feel like the universe is on your side. 

There wasn’t anyone left in the coffee shop but you after the last two customers left. It was close to 8 pm. The shop closed at 10 but considering the outdoor conditions, maybe you would be able to close a little earlier and get home before you wouldn’t have a way out. You finally finish wiping down the tables and pushing in all the chairs and take a second to look outside as you make your way back behind the counter. Gray dark skies darken the little part of the world you’re in and white flurries begin to fall, creating a light blanket of snow muffling the sounds of the earth the way a pair of fuzzy earmuffs might. As you watch the snowflakes fall from the inside of the café, mesmerized by their glistening, you hear the door chime. You snap out of your trance and scurry behind the counter, not looking in the direction of the door trying to make it look like you were working. Still not looking towards the customer, back towards the counter, you turn on the coffee machine and greet whoever walked in.

“Hi, welcome! How are y-”

You turn around and stop in your tracks when you see him. Blonde hair disheveled as always and sullen eyes looking ever so slightly relieved, cheery even with the way you catch the subtle glimpse of what can best be described as a hopeful twinkle in his pretty brown eyes. 

“Hi love.” The sound of his deep Manchester accent floods your body with warmth and you can’t help but smile.

“Well, look who it is. I haven’t seen you around here in ages! Started to think you found another shop.” You giggled, leaning on the counter in front of you subconsciously bringing yourself closer to him. 

“How could I? Could never find service like yours anywhere else. No one could make my tea as good as you can either.”

You look down and smile abashedly, flustered by his kindness and a bit shocked at his talkativeness. You figured it was because of the privacy you two had alone in the café.

“I’m so sorry to show up with the weather like this, but I just got back from work yesterday and I’ve been missing a bit of warmth.”

“Oh don’t apologize! I always have time for you.” You smile at him and you both look at each other for a bit, both getting lost in the other’s gaze.

You snap out of it first, jumping back from the counter to turn to put the kettle on. 

“Come, sit! I’ll make your usual.” You gesture to the bar stool at the counter and he pulls a chair out and watches you make his tea.

“Earl Grey with just a splash of vanilla creamer still, yeah?”

He chuckles and crosses his arms on the counter leaning on them.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

You smile to yourself, back still turned to him as you prepare the loose leaf tea to steep. You’re glad he’s finally opening up to you a bit.

The weather woman on the TV comes back on, gaining both of your attention. You turn your head from the tea kettle to the TV above the counter to the right, leaning back a bit to see and Simon looks too. 

“Well it looks like we’re getting more snow than initially expected tonight. From now until early morning, expect blizzards with over ten inches of snow. Stay safe and warm everyone!”

You and Simon look at each other after the weather woman finishes and the TV goes to a commercial break.

“Damn, I should take this to go then. Don’t wanna keep you open too long. They got no one else helping you close? Would hate to have you drive home in this.” He says.

You panic for a second hearing his plans to leave the shop so you can close and your eyes widen.

“No no! It’s- it’s ok.” You say a bit loudly.

“If anything, I’ll take the subway. I don’t live too far from here.” You reassure him.

He frowns at the thought of you traveling home alone.

“Well, maybe I’ll walk you then. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your hospitality.”

“I’d like the company.” You say with a smile.

You pour his tea into the cup and go to place it in front of him, but pull back at the last second.

“Oh wait! I almost forgot, don’t drink it yet!” You say as you jog over to the flower plant by the coffee machine, picking a tiny purple flower off of it. You bring it over to the cup of tea in front of him and place it in.

“I take care of the plants myself. Don’t worry, they’re clean.” You smile and he looks at the little flower floating around in his tea.

“You know, I only put flowers in your tea.” You giggle, and he looks up.

“Thank you. It’s lovely.” He lets himself smile back at you, heart melting at the way you’re so giddy and happy to serve him and treat him so special that he doesn’t even notice the storm outside, and neither do you. 

You do notice, however, that you never caught the man’s name.

“You know, I never got your name, after all the times you’ve been here.” You say to him.

He takes a sip of his tea, and hesitates for a second, thinking about whether or not to tell you his real name. You don’t know about his job, or who he is at all. No one other than the Task Force does. He wouldn’t want to put you in any danger. He’s already risking enough going out in civilization without his balaclava, figuring that it would attract more attention due to him sticking out being the only one with a mask on. But as he places his cup down on the saucer and looks up at your wide, patient eyes awaiting his answer, what kind of person would he be to let you down and kill the anticipation in your eyes, let alone lie to you? After all you’ve done for him? All the kindness you’ve shown? Maybe just a first name would be ok. After all, anyone could find out his first name from anything really. He opens his mouth then closes it, then opens it again.

“Simon.” He answers. “My name is Simon.”

Your heart flutters and melts like a snowflake falling on salted pavement at the sound of his name coming from his voice. 

“Simon.” You repeat back smiling. “Simon Simon Simon.” You chant in a sing-songy voice, getting used to the name. “That’s pretty. It suits you.” You say, cheeks starting to hurt from the smile plastered over your face.

Simon blushes at the sound of his name falling from your lips, finding himself wanting to hear it more often.

“What’s your’s love?” Simon asks.

You tell him your name and it was his heart’s turn to flutter and melt. He smiles at you and whispers your name to himself, familiarizing himself with it. He’s never felt so warm before, and he was quite shocked with the feeling, almost alarmed at it. He straightens up in his chair to try and stop himself from losing himself in you.

“That’s beautiful.” He smiles again, and takes a sip of his tea again.

A bang on the glass of the window on the other end of the shop grabs both of your attention. You both turn your heads and look outside, forgetting about the storm out there.

“Geez I forgot it was a blizzard out there.” You say worriedly. A gust of wind picked up a fallen tree branch and thrusted it against the window pane which caused the noise. 

Simon notices the worry in your voice and expression and an instinct to comfort and protect you takes over his being. He’s afraid of it. It’s unfamiliar, but he can’t help it, especially not when your pretty face looks anything but happy and the way your baby hairs messily poke out from your ponytail.

“Let me help you clean up. I don’t reckon anyone else coming by tonight. I’ll walk you to the subway.” Simon says, almost too enthusiastically and who are you to say no to those warm, honey brown eyes. 

But as you open your mouth to answer, the power goes out. Causing you to yelp instead of speak, leaving you and Simon in the darkness, both snapping your heads up at the ceiling to try and find where the light bulbs were that just flickered out. 

“Well, closing is gonna be a bit more difficult tonight than expected.” You say.

“Shit.” Simon says. 

There isn’t any light except from the glow of the snow from outside, but you can still make out Simon’s strong features, still looking so handsome, even in the dark. 

“There’s a fireplace by the couch. It’s gas powered so it should work.” You leave from behind the counter, stumbling around to find your way over to it. You feel around the mantle and sigh in relief when you find the switch. You switch the fireplace on illuminating the coffee shop and Simon gets up from his seat to walk over to the window, leaving his tea on the bar top. He looks outside and you make your way over to his side, and look out the window too. 

“The snow is too high to open the door, let alone walk in.” Simon says.

“Simon?” You say in a quiet voice.

He looks down at you, and you never really realized the height difference between you two, considering he’s normally sitting down at a table when you are talking to him.

“Yeah hun?”

“I don’t think either of us are going home tonight.” You say and wrap your arms around yourself due to the sudden chill in the room from the power outage. 

Simon looks out the window again, thinking of how to answer, or what to do next. Then, he laughs to himself, then looks back down at you.

“Unfortunately, I think you might be right love.” He says, and the pet name immediately warms your insides up again. 

You both stand there staring out the window a bit, unsure of what to do next.

“Well.” You say, breaking the silence. “Might as well get comfortable then. Looks like we’re staying the night.” You blush to yourself at the thought of spending the night with Simon. You also think to yourself how you’re asking for a raise when you get out of this mess. You move to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Simon follows, sitting on the opposite side, nervous to get too close to you. You take off your apron and let out your hair, and Simon can’t help but watch you and how your features become more defined with the light and shadows created by the luminosity of the fire. You looked so beautiful and Simon has never felt so safe and happy. It’s weird to him, considering he barely knew you at all, and he’s not used to feeling this way, but he lets himself, just this once. 

“So.” You say, leaning back into the couch, taking off your shoes and pulling up your legs to sit criss crossed. 

“What do you do for work?” You turn and ask him, and his smile fades a bit. He turns his gaze towards the fire and you notice the change in his demeanor and you regret asking. 

“Can’t exactly talk about it.” Simon says, remembering that, right, he had a job. A scary and difficult one. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You apologize, and turn your gaze to the fire as well. 

Simon notices the embarrassment and regret in your voice and he snaps his head back to you.

“Oh no no it’s ok love. Not your fault.”

His reassurance makes you feel a little better and you regain some of your confidence.

“Well, you already know what I do for work.” You joke. 

Simon chuckles at that and leans back in his seat, looking back at the fire, getting more comfortable. 

“That I do.” He says, and he spreads his legs and puts an arm on the ledge of the couch behind him, making you blush since his arm was almost touching you. 

“And you do a damn good job at it.” He smiles.

You look at him looking at the fire and you notice the reflection of the fire in his eyes and how well the warm colors compliment each other. You wished you could stay here like this forever, just looking at him, just being with him, even if you barely knew him at all. There was something so domestic about Simon. Something so… homely.

Even with the fire going, and despite the warmth Simon made the inside of your body feel, the cold air of the dark coffee shop began to prick at your skin once again, causing you to wrap your arms around yourself as you and Simon sat in a comfortable silence staring at the fire as if it were telling you both it’s deepest darkest secret. Simon notices you curl in on yourself and he turns his head towards you.

“Here.” He says after a second, analyzing why you curled up, and he begins to take off his fleece lined cargo jacket. 

“Oh no I’m ok.” You lean away from him a little, not wanting him to sacrifice his comfort for yours.

“You’re shivering love. It’s ok, here, take it.”

You reach out and grab the heavy jacket and place it over your shoulders. It was big, heavy, warm, and smelled like him. Like mahogany teakwood and firewood that once burned but went damp from rainfall, leaving only clouds of smoke as evidence of it ever being set aflame. He smelled earthy, musky, but nice and clean with a hint of raw sweetness like a jasmine flower, and you drowned in it.

“Thank you.” You said shyly, flustered at how intimate wearing his jacket was.

“Looks better on you than it does me.” Simon says, and you giggle. 

You look at each other and smile for the millionth time that night and scooch a little bit closer to him and he does the same. The blaze of the gas fireplace lighting up the little corner of the coffee shop you two sat in with a low orange glow. 

You glanced out the window which reminded you of the storm outside. All of a sudden, you remember something.

“Oh my god!” You gasp and stand up, startling Simon a bit.

“What is it?” Simon asks, a worried expression on his face.

“I completely forgot oh my god.” You say as you throw his jacket off and scurry off the couch to a closet hidden away in a tiny hall for the employees to walk through to get to the break room next to the kitchen. Simon turns his body and watches you run away, hearing your shuffling about in the hallway.

You feel around the closet and finally feel a cardboard shoebox.

“Ah, yes.” You whisper to yourself as you pull the box down and search in the dark through it. You feel what you’re looking for and you smile to yourself, picking it up out of the box and holding it to your chest and you place the shoebox back into place and begin your way in the dark back to the couch.

“Everything alright back there?” Simon asks, body still turned towards you and you emerge from the dark back into the light of the fire, something small and rectangular in your hands. 

“I remembered that we have this for emergencies.” You say, and pull the item away from your chest, presenting it to Simon as you take your place back next to him on the couch, sitting on his jacket. 

I thought this would be helpful so we don’t have to drain the battery on our phones.

In your hands was a tiny, black, battery powered AM/FM radio.

Simon looks at the item in your hands and smiles at how cute you are. You would have no way of knowing Simon’s expertise when it comes to radio and communication especially in a dire situation. He finds your enthusiasm so adorable and he lets you have your moment, especially when you look so proud of yourself.

“Smart.” Simon says with a smirk.

“The batteries should be fully charged, since we never used it before.” You say as you fidget with the tiny box, trying to find the switch to turn it on.

“Who knew we would ever have to us-” The sound of static abruptly interrupts you and you jump a bit.

“Ah, there we go.” You say and adjust the dial on the side to find a signal, and the sound of a weather report slowly fades in, drowning out most of the static.

“Blizzards tonight with winds exceeding 40 mph at the least. Power outages have been reported across the city. It’s unsure when the power will come back but live updates will be provided.” You and Simon stare at the radio in your hands and listen to the report with eager ears.

“You know, it’s funny.” You say, speaking over the radio, gaining Simon’s attention. “One of the first things you said to me was that the reason you came by today was because you needed something warm, which is kinda the exact opposite of what’s happening now.” You say with a chuckle. Simon nods his head with a smile.

“Well, I didn’t exactly mean something warm like the temperature love.” He says, and you blush at his reference to what could only mean you, keeping your gaze on the radio in your hands, trying to ignore his eyes boring into you.

You adjust the knob on the radio and switch it to FM, trying to find some music to ease the tension in the air between you two. After a few adjustments and turns, the static fades into soft jazz music and you light up at the lovely, rich sound of the saxophone and piano through the tinny sound of the old speaker. You place the radio on the coffee table between the couch and the fireplace and wrap Simon’s jacket around yourself again. The warmness of him, the fire, and the relaxing jazz music made your head fuzzy, and you could feel yourself getting tired. You move in closer to Simon and he puts his feet up on the coffee table, crossing one ankle over the other. You feel him hesitate a bit before he places an arm around you, securing you by his side.

“Is this ok?” He whispers to you.

“It’s perfect.” You look up at him and whisper back with a smile. “Even though we don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here.” You laugh to yourself at the absurdity of the situation, still finding it hard to believe.

Simon hums in agreement, but he doesn’t mind, and neither do you. Not when you two are together like this. You lean your head on Simon’s chest and he turns his body towards you slightly, making himself more comfortable for you. You two hardly knew each other, only the feeling you both got when you were in each other’s presence, but it still felt like you two didn’t know anyone in the world but each other for your whole lives. You let yourself drift off to sleep against Simon’s chest, wrapped in his jacket with the soft light of the fire and slight staticy jazz music from the mini radio, letting yourself leave the stress and worry of the aftermath of being trapped at work for the next day. Simon lets himself drift off to sleep too. The snow is too piled up for anyone to come in or out, and it’s not like you two are completely stranded, so Simon’s survival instincts could be put off for a while. This was a problem to worry about tomorrow. Because right now, all that mattered was the softness Simon was experiencing inside that he never felt before, even if it terrified him. It just felt right. 

And even though Simon’s heart was cold, harsh, and sometimes unforgiving, matching the conditions of the current weather, the only thing that was cold right now, was the world outside the coffee shop on the corner of your little city.

[grimbunnies]

Much About Pink Soup

Okay.

I made an ill-considered response in a moment of deliberation, and I should have just done this from the beginning.

Pink soup is not about the Sims 2's game engine. The Sims 2 can display 4k textures just fine if your hardware supports higher resolutions and you have properly installed the game (more on this in a moment).

I knew this the whole time, but my autism tends to push me into chameleon-ing in conversations. I am now embarrassed I engaged in such a way that I spread misinformation, so I want to set the record straight (or spread different misinformation because I'm not an expert on any of this, but this is how I understand things, please correct me if I'm wrong and add to this).

Before I begin, I want to make clear that, while I'm referencing a specific post, I'm not in any way attempting to smear anyone. I think we've come to realize as a community that we have a tendency to spread misinformation when things don't quite make sense with this game. Think of how certain we all were that we knew what neighborhood corruption was for literally so many years. I still am in the habit of checking the phone isn't ringing before I save a lot. So, my reason for making this post is because I feel there's a danger that misinformation is being spread, and because I played a part in that I feel responsible for pushing back (again, hopefully I'm actually doing better this time). I don't believe that anyone is intentionally trying to misinform the community. I also believe that there is still useful information in the post I'm referencing. Simmers who struggle with pink soup may find some useful tips in that post. However, when you read it, I ask you try to keep in mind that the explanation that post provides is misleading at times.

Does the game struggle on newer machines? Yes. Newer operating systems and hardware can struggle to run the Sims 2 or play nice with the game, so it requires some tweaking to install in such a way that things will work how most of us would prefer. By default, the game does go "Huh?" when confronted with the concept that it can run as more than a potato simulator (by the standards of modern gaming), but that's because some of the rules it operates with for resolution need tuning for a newer machine with better capabilities. That's what Graphics Rules Maker helps make easier for the average player. You can go into the game files yourself, if you know what you're doing, but that's not something everyone is comfortable doing. Rest assured, if you're using GRM, it's not the cause of pink soup. It isn't breaking your game. The community has not been promoting this tool wrongly. It's still a very good tool. Just follow the guide, and the vast majority of the time it's the best tool to help you get your game looking nice.

"But," I hear you say, "Why then do I have pink soup?" Well, because of your hardware. No, not the game's engine. Your hardware. Pink soup is a texture memory issue. The game displays pink soup when it hits a limit, and this is based on a few factors, but, as I understand it (and please, please correct me if I'm wrong here), it's down to these things: the hardware you have, the way you have changed the game files or other things on your computer to play nice with your fancy modern hardware, and the texture memory required to render your game when you're playing. That last thing is impacted by the custom content you use and the settings you play your game at. The advice in the original post about being conscious of how much you're putting into your downloads folder (and what), replacing certain content with lower texture alternatives, and even considering some of the in-game settings (though the recommendations in the post are for hardware that's really struggling to run the game) or turning off cheats that you use... all of that advice can be valid and useful if you are struggling with pink soup.

Crucially, however, the game's engine can handle all of this just fine. Is the game optimized to run on modern computers? No, of course not, because they didn't exist when it was released. However, that does not mean that it can't or that it can't run with high poly, high texture, highest settings, all of the visual cheats, and mods to make lot imposters fancy. It's just that running with all these things being true can be a challenge for the average Sims 2 player's hardware to support, and it may require fixes and hacks that not everyone feels comfortable setting up (or even know about), and therefore the Sims 2 hits a limit, and you see pink soup and crashing. Again, this is not the engine being hard coded to be unable to display 4k CC, this is (as I understand it) the game going "I don't know how to display that texture anymore because there's too much going on." This happens with a lot of games, actually. It's one of the reasons even modern games crash: because they stop understanding how to display the visual information because of hardware deficiencies and/or poor optimization (and probably other reasons but oh my god don't listen to me I'm a librarian not a programmer). Think of any time you've seen a game crash when you load into a new area, how the game stutters, or how it simply doesn't load. In my experience, that's down to my hardware being unable to handle the game loading so many new textures and 3D models all at once.

You may be asking how I know all this... and it's because my game is really stable. I played for 6 hours today (enjoying my last week of unemployment). I played with a lot of high texture, high poly CC and the highest possible settings the entire time, and my sims went to multiple community lots. My game did not flash pink once. It did not crash. The game's engine did not shit itself, and nor did my hardware struggle any more than it realistically does when I play BG3 on the highest settings (probably less, honestly). And all of this is because I'm an avid gamer and had the very good fortune of having a father that purchased my love with an expensive custom gaming PC, and because I have hunted down every possible recommendation for how to make sure a game doesn't run into texture memory issues, making multiple changes to the game files and to settings on my computer to avoid this issue. Because it works for me (and many others), that's all the evidence you need that it's not about it being a fundamental incompatibility with the game's engine.

I do think it's important for both custom content creators and simmers who enjoy CC to be aware of texture sizes and poly counts, and of how much their hardware can handle. What works for some people will not work universally. That's just the unfortunate reality. I think it's totally cool to encourage creators to provide smaller texture sizes for their content (or to provide that yourself when their TOU allow you to), or list the texture sizes so people can decide if they feel their hardware will support the load. Same with disclosing poly counts. Being aware of these things is important for ensuring you're able to play your game without pink soup or crashing. However, we should not forget that CC creators are hobbyists, in most cases (and that's how we prefer it because we get violent when creators monetize). They're usually creating content they want for their game, and presumably they're publishing it because they haven't run into any issues with using it. Can their content contribute to your pink soup issues? Yes. If you have high quality CC that's going to need to be rendered by the game the majority of the time you play, this will increase the likelihood that you run into issues with texture memory and encounter pink soup and crashing. Does CC need to be 4k? Scholars remain divided. My personal opinion is that I don't notice a huge difference between 2k and 4k the majority of the time, but that's just me, so... If you think lower texture content looks good, definitely use that in your game instead of the highest possible textures, but it's not wrong for those high textures to exist, and it's not CC that's poorly optimized for the game. It's "poorly optimized" for your machine because it was probably made by someone that has better hardware, and therefore created something they wanted according to what their hardware can handle. That's not wrong on the creator's part, and you may be able to ask them nicely for a smaller texture size alternative, or post on a CC request forum, or even try to learn how to adjust the texture size yourself if you'd like the content but you don't think your hardware will handle 4k too well.

I believe the Sims 2 community is full of people that want to help one another, so by all of us being conscious of the varying limitations of our hardware, I think we can foster a CC community that offers a variety of options for texture sizes and that reduces mesh poly counts (we already see this a lot). I also believe it's great if we all, as much as we can, share the resources we refer to when we're optimizing our games for our personal hardware configurations. That's why I like to reblog such resources.

[forever-rogue]

Hi Bee! I've been a long time reader and fan of your blog! The way you write for Eddie is insane 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️ I love it 🥹 if you feel comfortable, could you please write something for fem!reader x Eddie where she has a history of being bullied (physically & verbally) and one day they could be arguing or something and Eddie is on edge and raises his voice and moves too quickly and she flinches (or maybe has a panic attack or something) I would really appreciate this ❤️🥺 comfort and fluff at the end because I need that rn ❤️

AN | Okay, but this is a little angsty but mostly soft 🥺🥰

Warnings | Language, mentions of past verbal abuse 

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.3k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It had been a long week. Weeks, really. And you felt like you and Eddie were like ships passing in the night more than anything else. You were busy with college classes and your part time job, and he was busy working at the shop. He’d been working a lot lately, even more than he normally did, but you hadn’t questioned it. You knew that you didn’t bring in a lot of money only working part time while you finished your degree, but it would be worth it in the end. 

But Eddie, good, kind hearted, wonderful man that he was, insisted that you it was okay. He wanted you to be able to focus on your studies, rather than have to worry about working. He was the main provider for your little family of two, and while it was a lot of pressure, he wouldn’t have changed a thing. In fact, one of the reasons he’d been working even longer hours and helping a few customers on the side, was so he could save up to buy you an engagement ring. You always insisted that you didn’t need anything fancy, but Eddie wanted to do this right, he wanted to do all the things with you, including proposing with a pretty ring.

Right now though, you were desperately wanting to spend some time with him, so you went ahead and planned a little date night for the two of you. You’d gotten a few very generous tips at the cafe lately and stashed them away in the rainy day fund; and now it was time to use them. You wanted a nice night out for both of you. 

“Eddie Spaghetti,” you were grinning from ear to ear as you walked into your shared apartment. You’d just gotten out of class and he should have been home a few minutes before you. He didn’t respond to your excited call for him and you wondered if he was home yet, “babe?”

You walked into the bedroom and found him sitting at the edge of the bed, boots off and a fresh change of clothes. He was breathing deeply, eyes closed and leaned back on his hands. Poor thing looked tired, and you knew he deserved the rest. 

“Babe-”

“I heard you,” he said, not altogether rudely or kindly either, “hi sweetheart.”

“Hello my love,” you kneeled at his feet, reaching for his hand to take in yours, “I missed you today! I’ve been missing you a lot lately.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, looking into your eyes for a split second. You could see the exhaustion in them and it made your heart constrict.

“Listen, I set a little bit of money aside for us and I thought we could go out tonight,” you were grinning, but there was an unreadable expression on his features, “get dinner and maybe catch a movie?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.”

“I just think it would be nice to have a night out to ourselves-”

“I can’t tonight,” he repeated as you pouted at him, “I’m sorry - maybe this weekend, okay?”

“But Eddie-”

“Please!” he snapped suddenly, dropping your hand as he gave you a sharp look. You’d never heard him raise his voice before…especially not at you. The only time you really heard him get loud was when he was in the thrill of the moment during a new campaign, “I’m exhausted and I have to go back to work tonight.”

“I don’t think you should-”

“Really?” his eyes narrowed and you gulped nervously, “then who is going to pay for everything, huh?”

“Eddie,” you stepped back, your heart racing as you felt the stinging of tears in the back of your eyes, “I-I-”

“Not all of us have the luxury of going to school and working a few hours here and there at a coffee shop!” you’d never heard him this mad before, not in over three years of dating, and it frightened you. You didn’t like this Eddie and wanted your Eddie back. You flinched away from him, trying to hide how scared you were.

“I just thought you could use a break,” your voice sounded so small and hurt that it broke Eddie’s heart. He shouldn’t have snapped at you, shouldn’t have taken his momentary anger (which was not even at you) out on you, “you’ve been working so hard. I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Sweetheart,” he tried to reach for you but you shook your head and pulled away to where he couldn’t reach you, “honey - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. Will you come here, please?”

“No,” you shook your head and clambered to your feet before scampering towards the door, “please just don’t.”

“Angel,” he got up and tried to walk over to you but you ducked in the hallway, “what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m going to go,” you stammered nervously, almost running into the living room to grab your bookbag. Eddie followed you slowly, trying to keep a bit of distance that you obviously needed, “I-I’ll see you later.”

You were gone and out the door before he could say anything else, heading to your care. You weren’t sure exactly what to do, but you just needed some space. You’d never had a single moment with him like that before and it felt terrible. This wasn’t Eddie, and you knew that he wasn’t going to turn into some monster, but the moment had settled harshly in your bones. 

Eddie’s eyes welled up with tears as he stared at the door. He hated the look on your face; he hated himself more for snapping at you. He’d just been so tired and run down, and it had all come to a head. Unfortunately, it was you that was caught in the crossfire; his love, his princess, his angel. The last person he ever wanted to hurt. And he’d just gone and done that.

“Fuck,” he sighed at himself, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath. He wanted to come after you, figuring you’d more than likely have gone to Steve and Robin’s place. But, more than anything, he wanted you to be comfortable, so he opted to give you space instead. 

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you got home, Eddie was already in bed. But he wasn’t sleeping, instead he was staring at the ceiling, unable to calm his worried mind down. He heard the front door open and close, followed by your soft tread, but remained still and silent. He noticed the hesitation in your tread after he heard your bag settle on the floor, followed by your shoes. He hated the idea that he was the reason for your quiet shyness. 

You paused outside the bedroom door, noticing that it was still partly open, almost like a sign of apology. You paused with your hand on the knob before slowly pushing it open and letting yourself in. There was a soft glow from the bedside table where the small lamp was still on. It illuminated his body, but you knew immediately that he was still awake.

“E-Eddie?” you whispered softly, padded over to your side of the bed, cautiously sitting down. Your boyfriend rolled over so he was facing you, blinking softly but not yet saying anything so he wouldn’t push you further. You met his eyes and offered him a small little half smile. He visibly relaxed when he saw that you weren’t shying away, “I know it’s late, but can we talk?”

“Yeah - y-yes,” he sat up and leaned against the headboard, lightly patting the space next to him. You didn’t even bother to take off your clothes before crawling into your side of the bed, sitting cross legged next to him, “I…first of all, I want to say how sorry I am. I should never have talked to you like that. I know you probably don’t believe me right now and I don’t expect you to, but I will never talk to you like that again. I swear it.”

“I know,” you nodded softly, playing with a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of your sweater, “I know you won’t, Eddie. I know that a one time thing isn’t going to change our entire relationship.” 

“Yeah?”

“Of course,” you raised a tentative hand before reaching over and touching his cheek, brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttered closed at the feel of your soft palm on his skin, “I think I owe you an explanation too.”

“Sweetheart,” he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “I am tired, and I’ve been tired and I know you have been too. And it’s not because you don’t work hard - I know you do. I know it’s not just going to school full time and working part time. And it’s nothing I hold against you, because that’s what we agreed to, and let’s be honest, school ain’t for me.”

“Eddie, you’ve been working so much,” you whispered, “and I don’t want you to run yourself into the ground. We’ll be okay if you cut back your hours, especially the extra ones. I can always pick a few more hours on the weekends…but we’ll figure it out.”

“I…” he swallowed thickly, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing, “I know I can cut back and we’d be okay….I took the extra shifts and hours because I was using them to save some extra money.”

“Oh,” your brows furrowed in surprise; you spotted the dark pink flush in his cheeks, “whatever for?”

“I was saving up so I could buy you a ring,” he confessed, looking like a shy boy rather than a grown man. Your eyes widened in surprise and you couldn’t prevent the small gasp that escaped your lips. A wave of emotion caused your eyes to prickle with tears, “I know you said you didn’t need an engagement ring or a big proposal or any of that, but baby, I want to do this. I want to do it right, and get you that ring.”

“Oh Eddie,” a few tears had prickled up and rolled down your cheeks, which he tenderly wiped away, “I had no clue…I…I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he promised, “I hope you’re not mad…”

“Of course I’m not mad,” you beamed at him, “I think you’re a stubborn man that won’t change his mind, huh?”

“I won’t,” he agreed, causing you to giggle at him, “I’m gonna cut back my hours, I swear. But I’m also going to get you that ring, yeah?”

“Okay,” you didn’t need or want fancy material things like shiny rings, but damn. You weren’t about to say no to Eddie. You knew now that he’d spoken his piece, it was your turn to speak yours, “I, ugh, also want to apologize for how I reacted earlier. I, umm, growing up kinda sucked, you know? Well, I know you know. I never really gave you the full details, ‘cause it never felt necessary. But in school I was bullied a lot, especially when I was young because of being different. Home wasn’t much better; my mom, she…liked my older brother and sister a lot but with me it was different. For whatever reason, she hated me and my life a living hell half the time. She used to call me names, tell me I was stupid and unlovable, and would never get anywhere in life.”

“Sweetheart…”

“She liked to yell, a lot, almost like it was her form of a drug,” you shrugged, “I’m sure that’s why I don’t like any sort of yelling nowadays. I never really left like I fit in anywhere. Not until I met you….you and the rest of the gang.”

“I…I’m sorry,” was all he managed to choke out as he settled his hand on your neck, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, “I had no clue…I-I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“We all go through our own things,” you put your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I should have told you sooner…but I want you to know that you are the best thing that has happened to me. I love you very much, Eddie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed a soft barely there kiss to your lips, “will you forgive me? I know it’s a lot to ask for.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” you leaned your cheek against his, breathing in slowly, “we both…it’s not that we made mistakes, it’s just that….we just didn’t quite sync up today. And that’s okay, because we’ll learn and it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t,” his eyes were soft and bambi-like, making your heart melt. You loved this man beyond measure, and you knew he left the same, “how about we use some of that extra money we’ve stashed away and go away this weekend, huh? Just the two of us, no cares in the world.”

“I’d like that,” the smile on your face was breathtaking and electric and Eddie was positive he’d just fallen a little more in love, “let’s do it.”

“Let’s do it,” he agreed softly, “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Eddie.”

[thedroneranger]

Hotel Homecoming

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake and his wife reunite in their traditional fashion.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 2.8k

The valet loved creating personas for the guests based on their vehicles as they arrived at the porte cochère. Watching a sleek Aston Martin roll up the drive, they began to write the driver’s story. 

Standing side-by-side on the curb, their lips moved minimally as they riffed off one another. They pictured a tall, dark-haired man neatly dressed in subtle luxury brands. Other than the car, the only signs of wealth would be the timepiece encircling his wrist and the healthy tip given to the pair. They would offer to deliver the leather overnight bag produced from the passenger seat, but the driver would insist on taking it himself.

The attendants were pleasantly surprised when a woman, clad in over-sized sunglasses and a watch that was easily worth their combined yearly salaries, stepped out of the car. She gave them a pearly smile, pulling an overnight bag from the passenger seat. The trunk popped, and she collected a garment bag. Clamoring, they offered to take her belongings, but she insisted her room wasn’t far. 

One attendant accepted her keys and slid into the driver’s seat, while the other walked her to the lobby. Once she was inside, she slipped her guide a tip that she insisted be shared. She reinforced the ask by joking she would be back to check.

“Welcome!” The front desk agent greeted her, and then asked for the reservation details. She provided the necessary information and enquired if room service would deliver a bottle of champagne within the hour. Of course, the agent obliged. She departed the desk with a smile and soaked in the opulent lobby on the way to the elevator.

The room was a golden hue as the sheer curtains diffused the afternoon sunlight. She stepped up to the floor-to-ceiling windows to take in the ocean view. Waves lapped the sand, and people scurried along the shoreline.

A soft knock on the door and a muffled “Room service!” let her know the champagne arrived. The server was kind, opening the bottle and pouring the first flute. 

She could barely wait for the door to close as she began to shed her clothing. Drink in hand, she sauntered to the bathroom where she drew the hottest bath. Sitting in her ring of fire, she sipped champagne and hummed along with the music she had asked Alexa to play. Interrupting her jam session, she asked her voice assistant for the time. Sighing, she began to drain the tub—it was important she stick to the schedule. 

Thankfully she had the hardest part out of the way: curating her outfit. 

While he loved her no matter what she wore—he often told her that her messy buns and his t-shirts drove him the wildest or her birthday suit was the ultimate gift—she knew what would give him itchy fingers and tight pants.

Tonight, she opted for a floor-length gown with thin straps and an almost waist-high slit. Since the look did not allow for a bra, she also opted to skip panties—that would get him going.

Although he loved her hair down, she wanted to show off her neck and shoulders, which he would appreciate too. Plus, she wouldn’t have to fuss with it later.

One last look in the mirror confirmed her look was almost complete. Tucking a few baby hairs behind her ear, her heirloom wedding band and custom diamond engagement ring gleamed. She slipped the trinkets off her finger, dropped them in a silk pouch and tucked them into her clutch for safekeeping. 

The clock told her she had perfect timing. Her lips pursed as an idea swirled in her brain. She picked her panties out of her bag and looped them around the inside doorknob as she exited. A smirk carved her lips as she padded down the hallway.

The dark-stained wood and rich leather made the hotel bar warm and cozy. Knowing her odds were best at the counter, she slid into an empty chair. The lone bartender immediately minded her, opening with a few flirty quips. She played along and earned her first drink on the house.

With a wink, she vacated her barstool in search of secluded seating. She liked the suspense of him wandering around looking for her. Especially as the bar began to fill.

Her drink had one more swig, maybe two if she took small sips. The thought of returning to the bar for a second crossed her mind until a masculine voice broke her thought train. She peered up to see his playful green eyes boring into hers. A smile spread across her features and heat began to build between her legs.

Jake was all man—tall, tanned and his suit fit as though it were sewn on. Since their meeting was informal, he went sans tie. The first few buttons on his shirt were undone, exposing a sliver of hard chest and hair. And that smile—it was impossible to not be bewitched.

She watched him as he slid into the booth, leaving just a little room between their bodies. He handed her a fresh drink. They clinked cups and pressed their glasses to their lips. His eyes scanned her body as they sat, and his arm made its way behind her head, resting along the back of the booth. Goosebumps hatched on her skin as his calloused fingers grazed her shoulder. The move persuaded her to close the gap between them. Their bodies fit perfectly together as she tucked herself under his shoulder. She let her hand skim his muscular thigh. Her head tilted back to meet his gaze, and he looked down at her with that chokehold smile.

It had been six months since they had seen each other. Fashion season was in full swing, so she kept busy traveling for shows. Jake, on the other hand, had been locked away on his homebase for an intense deployment.

Every Sunday, she kept her phone in her hand, no matter what she was doing, so she wouldn’t miss his call. Sometimes he called in the morning and other times in the evening. On the Sundays he called later, she often got worried she wouldn’t hear from him. She worried the call would come from an unfamiliar voice telling her to expect a folded flag at her door.

His hand shook her from her thoughts as his fingers brushed behind her ear and along her neck. Her eyes floated shut and she purred into his touch. She opened her eyes to meet his, which were darker than when he arrived.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her panties neatly folded in the breast pocket of his suit. “Nice pocket square.” She smirked. Smile lines carved his face and the corners of his eyes crinkled. 

“You like it?” he asked, taking a swig of his scotch.

“Goes well with the suit,” she added.

His free hand dipped below the table into her lap. He found the slit in her dress and skimmed his thumb up her bare thigh. Her breath hitched as he came closer to her naked core. He was amused, staring at her with a wolfish smile. She proposed they head upstairs to their room.

A closed-lip smile pulled the corners of his mouth as they stared at each other. “Finish your drink first,” he stated. An involuntary eye roll broke their staring match and a soft sigh signified her compliance. He watched her as she drank until the final swill. Gingerly, she placed the glass on the table and then motioned for him to let her out of the booth. 

As she exited, she made sure to graze her backside against his front. She turned to look him in the eye, not acknowledging her actions. “See you upstairs, Lieutenant Commander.” Always a gentleman, he took her hand and kissed the back before she walked away. His eyes fixated on her as she disappeared into the lobby.

Jake loved this part of their ritual, getting dressed up for each other. Tonight’s dress was new but definitely something he would add to his favorites. As good as it looked on her, his favorite place for her clothes was still on the floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, really only 15 minutes, he finished his drink and threw a Benjamin on the table before heading to the nearest elevator.

When he arrived, she was nowhere to be seen in the main room of the suite. Closing the door softly, he shrugged his suit coat off and rolled up his shirt sleeves. Then, he hunted for her. It wasn’t long before he spied her in the dressing room. He pushed the ajar door wide enough to slip through. Their eyes met. “Help?” she asked softly. 

Risking a split in his perfectly tailored pants, he wordlessly walked over and knelt in front of her. She watched as he looped her calf over his bent leg and began to unbuckle the thin strap of her shoe. Once he was done with the first, he placed a soft kiss on her kneecap. He repeated his actions for her second shoe.

However, this time, his lips lingered and his fingers wandered. She held her breath as they skimmed up her thigh, taking her dress with it. His lips followed, trailing kisses. He froze and looked up at her. His fingers had reached her warm apex. A smile pulled his lips as his fingers grazed her lower lips and a small moan escaped her mouth. He pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee, and his fingers dipped into her folds, barely grazing her most sensitive nerves. However, it was enough for her to jolt forward with a pleasurable gasp. 

He ran his tongue along the bottom edge of his teeth as his signature grin returned. He looked up at her through his eyelashes. Deviously, he again slid his finger along her most sensitive spot, and then down to her entrance, pushing in. Her mouth dropped open, and her hips rolled forward. He quickly recoiled, slipping his glistening finger into his mouth. She watched as he enjoyed her taste. Eyes closed, he slowly pulled his finger out of his mouth with a pop sound. He placed one more kiss on her thigh before standing up. 

During his ascent, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of her chair. She trailed him into the bedroom. Once inside, he guided her to the bed with his hands on her hips. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, she tumbled into the feather bedding. 

He followed her, a knee between her legs and a hand on either side of her head. She supported herself on her elbows so their lips met. The kiss was all teeth and tongues. “Undress me,” he breathed in her ear as the kiss ended.  

She sank flat on the bed, biting her lip as she unfastened each button on his dress shirt. Halfway through, his dog tags fell out, dangling between them. They looked at each other and she eyed the gold band that hung with the flanks of metal. 

She continued unfastening buttons, making sure her fingers grazed his skin. Every so often, she would glance at him through her eyelashes. She could tell his patience was thinning. Slowly, she pulled his shirt tails from his pants. 

He barely waited for her to unbuckle his belt and open his pants before he was sliding off the bed to ditch them on the floor. Unsurprisingly, his cock was fighting the fabric of his boxer briefs.

He climbed back on the bed and trailed his lips up her exposed leg. She let her fingers card through his hair as his lips wandered up her body. Finally, they were face-to-face, and she curled the chain of his dog tags around her finger to lower his head until their lips met. 

Her free hand slid down his chest and his stomach to the bulge tenting his boxer briefs. Jake groaned into her mouth and he felt her lips curl into a smile. Her hand dipped past his waistband and pumped his length. “If you keep that up, this will be a short reunion,” he warned. She purred as he sucked on her collarbones and gently slipped her dress straps off her shoulders.

Once her arms were free, Jake began sliding down the dress bodice as he peppered her chest with kisses. She closed her eyes and cradled her head on her folded arms as Jake worshiped her. Soft moans left her lips as he nipped and sucked her nipples until they were hard nodes. He showered her exposed skin with kisses and continued to slide the sheath of fabric down her body until it fell atop of his clothes on the floor.

“God, I missed you,” he said between kisses. 

“My name is fine,” she teased. 

She could feel Jake smiling as he continued his descent toward her pubic mound. Her breath hitched when his tongue delved between her folds. Jake guided her legs over his shoulders and he looped an arm around one of her thighs as he continued to lick broad stripes up and down her core. She moaned his name each time his tongue swirled a figure eight on her swollen bundle of nerves.

The tightening low her stomach built each time Jake touched her. Humming with pleasure, she threaded her fingers into his hair and gently tugged so he looked at her. “Jake, I want my first orgasm to be on your cock.” 

He grinned ear-to-ear as his lips softly tugged her clit one more time before he sat back on his knees. Hooking his hands behind her knees, he pulled her so the backs of her thighs rested on the tops of his. 

She sat up and captured his lips with hers. Her body scooted closer until her core was resting against his length. He rocked against her as they made out. Her hand dipped between them and guided Jake into her. A soft sigh left her lips, and Jake smiled into the kiss. 

She kept rocking her hips into him and eventually put her full weight onto Jake, signaling for him to fall onto his back. Soon, she was perched on top of him, setting their pace. Jake’s hands moved to her thighs, his fingertips digging into her, while her hands fell to his chest. One curled around the chain of his dog tags and tugged whenever Jake tried to overpower her rhythm.

Her orgasm nearing, her pace began to slow, and Jake seized his opportunity when her eyes slipped closed for a few seconds. He sat up, causing her to tumble backward. Fluidly, he slipped one of her legs over his shoulder and the other rested on his waist as he feverishly pumped into her. “You want my cock, and I want the satisfaction of making you come,” he said as he snapped his hips with a little extra emphasis after each word. 

She stared at him with hooded eyes and one hand curled in the bed sheets. The other slipped between them and stroked her clit to help break the heat low in her stomach. Her back arched and her eyes closed as an orgasm shuddered through her. A smirk pulled the corners of Jake’s lips as his name fell from her mouth. He continued his forceful thrusts as he watched her. 

His hips stuttered as her hand moved to his cock, squeezing around the base and his balls to coax his finish. Jake groaned her name as pleasure pulsed through him. Releasing him, she smiled and dug her heel into his ass to pull him as close as possible.

Hovering over her, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before rolling onto his side. She followed him, curling into him under his arm and wrapping her leg around his thigh while her hand rested on his chest.

They laid together, and she swirled her fingertip on his chest, catching his dog tags every so often. Finally, she carefully unclasped the chain and slipped his wedding band off it. After reclasping the ball chain, she gently pushed the ring on his finger. 

“Where’s yours?” Jake asked. With a smile, she reached past him to get her clutch from the nightstand. She opened it and he reached in to pull out a silk sachet. He held it while she untied it and then flipped it so both bands tumbled into his hand. Then, he slid them on her finger. 

He kissed her rings before trailing more kisses up her arm. She smiled and wrapped her arm around his neck, curling her fingers in his hair and leaning up to capture his mouth. Her body shifted so she was laying mostly on him as she softly kissed him. “Welcome home, baby,” she said as she pulled away. 

A hand ghosting the small of her back, he leaned up to kiss her forehead. “It’s good to be home.”

[lemmetreatya]

baker!reader who sees jotaro a few times a weeks when he comes to the little shop to get a simple treat to go with his afternoon coffee, engaging in small talk that gradually becomes more friendly and comforting making the guy look forward to his *now* daily treat

this didnt go the way i wanted but ykw? im equally as okay with that 🥹

When Life Gives You Pastries — Single dad!Jotaro x baker!reader

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

Jotaro is impoverished with the sickeningly sweet greeting as soon as he enters the small bakery.

He doesn’t say anything back because he’s here for one thing, and one thing only, and that’s his breakfast.

It was already a hassle getting Jolyne ready for school and in the rush of trying to cook his breakfast, he burnt hers and so in the orderly sacrifice of a parent, he gave her his and went without.

Jotaro scours the small selection for a gathering max of three minutes before slapping a plain croissant and a takeaway coffee cup onto the cashier table.

“Will this be to go, sir?” You ask, your smile wide and attentive despite the broody man’s disposition.

He hadn’t even registered that you’d spoken to him at first, his eyes emptily boring into your apron as he mentally flicked through today’s to-do list like a flip book.

It’s only once he realised you were giving him an expectant look that his ears caught up to his brain and his brain to his mouth.

“Yes, to go. Sorry.” He fumbles.

“No worries!” You chirp, as understanding as ever.

Jotaro pays for his purchase and patiently waits as you make his coffee of choice — a Long Black.

(“So an Americano?” You clarify.

“No. A Long Black; Hot water first and then the espresso, not the other way round.”

Jotaro notices how you smile knowingly at his correction and without taking any offence.)

When it’s done, he then leaves a mandatory tip before leaving without any further thought.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

The next time Jotaro finds himself in this same bakery is when he’s on his afternoon break just a week and a day later.

He vaguely remembers your first encounter but hadn’t thought much of it until now. He does however vividly remember your diabetic customer service greeting and it stimulates him to reply back.

“Hey…” He aimlessly mumbles.

“Already got your coffee today?”

When Jotaro places the wrapped plain croissant by the counter, he’s shortly thrown off guard by your question.

Looking down at his styrofoam cup which donned his work company’s logo, Jotaro is confused why you ask him this.

“Y-yes?” He thinks hard before looking back up at you.

You ring up his item on the till, your smile still cloy.

“Then I’m guessing no Long Black today.”

Realisation finally licks Jotaro’s brain and his face slightly widens in clarity of that.

He remembers now; how he ordered coffee from here last time, and how it kept him proactive through the day. Not like the cheap instant stuff his office gives for free. What you gave him was a true espresso infused coffee and for that he’s grateful.

“No, not today.” He finally answers as you hand him a small bag that contained his croissant. “Maybe next time.”

You give the man another warm smile. Jotaro leaves a cash tip this time despite only buying a croissant.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

“Afternoon.”

The gap between when Jotaro last visited the bakery was shorter this time, he was back three days later.

Jotaro had thought to himself that he should buy Jolyne a treat for when she gets home from school. He’d gotten a call not too long ago from a teacher who was rather pleased with her progress and thought to let him know.

It was small encouragements like that which spurred Jotaro on. Being a full-time working single father was hard and a lot of the time he was unsure whether he was doing a good job or not. Yet, noticed achievements like that, regardless of how big, he was determined to celebrate.

When Jolyne won, so did he.

“A croissant and a cherry bakewell. Unlike you.” You jokingly spar when Jotaro places the items on top of the counter.

He’s already getting out his wallet as you package the food up.

“It’s for my daughter, thought I should treat her today.”

At the mention of his kin, you looked up in warm aptitude.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. Hopefully she enjoys it.”

Jotaro internally gleamed at the prospects that you thought him sweet for treating Jolyne. Not that it meant much (he tells himself) but to hear a compliment on behalf of his parenting skills always made him keen.

You didn’t share anymore conversation after that. The both of you were quiet as you made his Long Black.

Once you passed over the package, you smiled once again.

“Thank you.” Jotaro says, as he leaves his tip and a very minute smile.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

“Are you really?” Jotaro asks almost immediately after you say the phrase.

Taken aback, you blink over at the man rapidly.

“Huh?”

He realises, now that he’s said that out loud, how intruding that must have sounded. Figures, since the phrase had absolutely been rattling like a ligma bean throughout his mind all week and that was his verbal fruition of that torment.

But he doesn’t mean any harm. If anything it’s just bridled curiosity and so Jotaro pauses within the middle of shop to clarify what he meant.

“No, it’s just…your small greeting thing you say. That you’re happy to serve.”

The explanation offers little context to his verbalised brain funk but still yet, you try to piece together as much as you could.

“Oh. Well, I guess I am. I enjoy what I do.”

“That’s good.” Jotaro hesitates before he moves towards the designated area where the croissants usually are. “It’s good to enjoy what you do. What keeps you getting out of bed, I suppose.”

There was an easy lulled silence as Jotaro hovered by the croissants.

Even though he got the same thing every time, he still liked to make sure there wasn’t anything else he fancied.

“Do you enjoy what you do?”

You ask once Jotaro places the croissant on the counter.

Already shuffling through his wallet for his card, he answers your question with his head down.

“Not really. But it pays the bills and it helps me keep Jolyne happy, so I guess it figures out.”

“Jolyne — your daughter?”

At the mention of her name, Jotaro looks up at you, a pause in his thinking at how you could have possibly known her name, but he then realises that it was from his own Freudian slip.

Jotaro slowly unveiled the card he planned to used and placed it on the counter.

“Yes. Yes, that’s her name. Jolyne.”

Your smile was light as you kept the conversation going as you rung up the items.

“Who named her?”

“Uh, I did. After her late mother’s favourite song.”

You halted in your actions, your fingers hovering over the till screen. The look of regret washed over your face at the prospect that you’d gotten too comfortable with the man and opened a messy can of worms.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

Jotaro shook his head as he gingerly tapped his amex over the card reader.

“No, it’s fine.”

As you sheepishly handed him his package, Jotaro backtracked his words.

“Well, I mean it’s not fine but you just gotta keep moving.”

“Of course.” You say with a nod.

Jotaro offers you a weary smile.

“Thanks.” He lifts his bag in solidarity to as he beckons his way out the shop.

“Hello, hello! Daily bakeries, happy to serve!”

The chiming and opening of the door alerted you of a new customer but from behind the counter, you didn’t see anyone come in.

With a face of confusion you looked over the counter to be none other than met with a rather small face looking up at you.

“Hey, there.” You greeted the individual.

The smile on your face was wide as the little girl looked up at you with massive curious eyes.

She didn’t say anything in reply, just stared right back up at you as you questioned her presence in your bakery.

Leaning your arms over the counter top, you pouted down at her.

“Are you lost?”

Before anymore exchanges could happen, the door to the bakery chimed once again.

“Hello, Hello! Daily bake— Oh! Hey!”

Your smile widened once you recognised who had walked into the store.

For a second, you hadn’t recognised him without his usual suit and tie, but you guess seeing him within his casual attire was even more of a nice surprise. You then connected the dots once the small girl had run up to the man’s leg and stretched her arm upwards so that she could hold his hand.

So this must be the infamous Jolyne.

“Hey, sorry for that. She unexpectedly ran ahead of me once we turned the corner.” Jotaro said whilst taking his daughter’s hand in his.

With an easy smile, you shook your head.

“No worries.”

In the duration that the two of them weren’t at the counter, neither you or Jotaro spoke to each other. Which was understandable considering he now had to entertain Jolyne.

“Dad, I want the one you got me last time.” She said.

“Yeah? Have a look and see if you can find it.”

Jotaro took one glance back at his daughter before approaching the counter. Rather than his usual croissant, he placed down a pain au chocolat.

“Good choice.” You muse

“Thought I ought to shake things up on a weekend.”

The both of you shared a polite bought of laughter between each other. Upon hearing the exchange, Jolyne skipped up to the counter before holding her bakewell tart in the air.

“Found it!”

She was too small to reach the counter top so you didn’t require that she place her treat there.

“Well done, Jojo.” Jotaro plainly laid his hand on top of his daughter’s head before removing it again. The touch wasn’t much but it secured a triumphant smile on Jolyne’s face.

Placing Jotaro’s treats into a bag, you directed your question towards the smaller girl.

“Jojo! That’s a very cute name.” You muse.

Hearing you engage with her, Jolyne’s eyes lit up as they flitted towards her dad before dancing back to you.

“Thanks. It’s dad’s name too, we share it!”

“Dad is also called Jojo?” You smile as you now look towards the larger man.

The man was quick to correct you as he took his bakery goods, his demeanour seemingly bashful at the prospects that his in-house nickname was being used anywhere but.

“I—As a nickname, For Jotaro.” He feigns.

“Jotaro.” You repeat.

For some reason your cheeks start feeling hot at the prospects that the man had just shared his name with you.

“Nice name.”

“Thanks.” He eyed you back,

And you weren’t lying, the name genuinely did suit him. A large stoic man who shared names with the daughter he begrudgingly, yet gladly, went to work for and brought to his favourite bakery shop on weekends — The name complimented him very much and in a very odd way, you found yourself smiling at the prospects of that.

Jotaro easily used his electronic watch to pay for the items as he hovers it over the machine. The cute ding signalled that the payment went through.

“Well, Jolyne, Jotaro. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

Collecting his daughter by her small hand, Jotaro widely smiled as he nodded his head in a bid goodbye.

“And you.” He firmly said back.

The jingled ‘Byeeee!’ from Jolyne along with the opening bell of the door rung together as the two left the store.

[1-800marvelqueen]

11:15

Frank Castle x reader (Peter Castilglione x reader)

Part Two

WC : 3K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Reader is gender neutral! but is implied to be AFAB. Mentions of drinking, violence, physically assault (groping), reader is attacked, knives, blood - canon typical violence.

If there are any more warnings to be added let me know!

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

You hated your job so fucking much.

So far today you had been yelled at, groped, catcalled, had drinks spilled on you, and you were pretty sure someone just threw up all over their table. Working in a 24-hour diner as a waitress is as shitty as it sounds. But you were tipped well, mostly by people on road-trips, or those coming back from a late night's work who needed a coffee to stay awake long enough for the ride home. You had your favourites, sure, but none of them compared to Pete

He came in almost every night, always ordered the same thing, and always tipped you very, very, well. He was also an extremely quiet guy who valued his privacy very much, the only thing you knew about him was that he worked construction. 

There was literally no one in the diner except for some shady looking drunk that had already made several inappropriate comments towards you in the 30 minutes he’d been here. You sit in one of the tall chairs at the bar, your foot tapping anxiously as you wait for 11:15 to roll around, knowing that Pete’ll walk in the second it hits. You ignore the drunken man staring you down, focusing on the clock, hoping that if you don’t engage he’ll leave you alone. 

Your efforts pay off when you hear the obnoxious ringing of the door behind you, the chime of the bell signalling the arrival of your favourite customer. You put the biggest smile you can on your face, spinning around in the chair to throw your arms up in the air, “Petey!” Hopping down off the stool as he gives you a lazy smile and a return of your greeting. “Your order is already on the griddle and here is your drink,” reaching back behind you to grab the freshly made to-go cup off the counter, “a coffee with the smallest splash of cream, no sugar, just for you.”

He gives you that rugged smile as he plops down at his usual seat in the darkest, furthest corner of the diner. “Thank you sweetheart.” Blood rushes to your cheeks and you feel your heartbeat pick up at a monumental rate. Squeaking out a quick ‘you’re welcome’ you turn and briskly walk away to go find something to keep you occupied until Pete’s food is done. You feel his eyes on you, as you bus tables, count the register, make cutlery sets, and so on and so forth. When you hear the quiet ding of the order-up-bell you run up to the serve window, utter a small “Thanks Benny” to the line-cook slash owner of the diner. 

You carry the plate to Pete’s table to find him still looking at you with that same rugged smile on his lips. His foot pushing out the chair next to him at his table for you. At first your friendship with Pete was a little rocky, you’d try to engage in conversation but would just be brushed off. But if you were one thing it was a persistent little motherfucker and you eventually cracked that tough exterior of Pete’s and slowly became his favourite person - not that he would ever admit that to you. Your friendship got to the point where if he came in and you weren’t working, he’d leave, and now everytime you dropped his plate off he’d invite you to join him and tell him all about your day. 

~

If Frank was being honest with himself this was the favourite part of any of his long and tiring weeks. Even though every ounce of his body ached terribly at the end of each day, he’d drag himself to the diner, for shitty coffee, greasy food, and you. And if Frank was being extremely honest with himself, he was in love with your voice, your face, your personality, he was in love with the way you got so excited to see him each and every time he walked through the door, overall he was completely and irrevocably in love with you. 

But at the same time he was deeply afraid of you. Of what he felt for you, afraid of the fact that the last time he was in love, the last time he started a life with someone, it ended in death and tears. He was so afraid that if he revealed to you who he truly was, if he showed you that simple Pete the Construction worker was really the Big-Bad Punisher, you would run or get taken because of who he was. Or worse, hurt or killed. 

So he kept his affections deep under wraps, buried. With hopes that one day he could sweep you off your feet and pretend to be the good guy in his own made up fairytale. 

~

Gently setting Pete’s plate down on the table surface before you promptly all but throw yourself down into the seat he pushed out for you. Letting out a deep sigh as you bang your head against the table a couple times for dramatics before finally resting your head on your arms, facing towards him. He gives you a raised eyebrow, a smirk pulling on the corner of his mouth. 

“That bad, huh?” “Like you would not believe,” “Tell me about it baby.”

Pushing down the feeling of butterflies in your stomach you proceed to go into a long-whirlwind explanation of how your day went, all the assholes you dealt with, the spills, screaming children, and everything else. Pete sits quietly, giving his input and reactions with different sounding noises from the back of his throat as he munches on his eggs. “And that guy over there,” lowering your voice, leaning in closer to Pete, making a small gesture to the drunk bum still in the diner, “He’s been here for almost an hour and a half, Pete. He’s been watching me the whole time, making comments and gestures and it’s really starting to freak me out.” 

Pete’s eyes darken immediately, so quick it almost scared you, he brought a hand down to the side of your chair. You try not to pay attention to how close his hand is to your thigh or how the muscles in his forearm move as he slides you closer to him, you could cry at the thought put into the gesture. No matter how rough around the edges Pete was, he cared for and about you, and while he’d never verbally admit it, you knew he showed it through other things. 

Like making sure you felt safe. 

He keeps an eye on the guy for the rest of the time he’s there. It’s almost midnight when Pete scoots his plate away and goes to dig his wallet out of his pocket. You quickly get up and take his plate to the back, coming to find his money for the food on the counter next to the register in exact change, along with your hefty tip, having ordered the same thing so many times he had its amount memorised. He waits by the door of the diner, eyes glancing worriedly between you and the man in the corner. “You gonna be okay with… that, or do you want me to stay until you get off?” Your lips automatically pull into a small smile - one that makes Frank’s heart do flips - as you place your hand on his shoulder. 

“No Petey I don’t get off till’ 4 AM. I can't ask you to stay that long when I know you’re tired, and besides, Benny’s still here so I’ve got him if I need anything” squeezing his shoulder gently before you pull away and turn to go back “Go home and get some sleep Pete, I’ll see you tomorrow night.” You’re stopped in your walk away when he grabs your wrist and ever-so gently pulls you back to him. “You know if you need anything to come find me right? I’m just a yell in the night away, okay?” 

Your brows furrow at what his statement could possibly mean, but you inevitably brush it off. Giving him reassurance and a wave as he leaves the diner. Bumbling around the diner for the next couple hours, having a few more customers come in, mostly weary travellers in need of a cup of coffee. The strange man had left around an hour after Frank did, watching you as he left with that strange look in your eye. At a little after 3 Benny tells you to go ahead and take off, which you gladly do, in need of a good shower and some sleep. 

Once you hang your apron up and grab your bag you’re out the door. Cold automatically hitting you as you slide on a pair of gloves and a scarf, breath puffing into a cloud in front of you. Your shoes quietly tap against the pavement. Humming a little tune to yourself as you walk the dark and desolate streets. It feels strange out tonight, something making the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up. You look all around you, slightly picking up your walking pace, hurrying to get home.

Your efforts are futile though, when someone comes up behind you, cupping your mouth before you could scream, and pulls you into the nearest alleyway. 

~

Frank always felt awful doing this. He felt like he was some sort of stalker. 

But he had to make sure you were safe, that no harm would come to you on your way home. So he’d wait, everynight after leaving the diner, waiting for your shift to end so he could make sure you were safe on your 10-minute walk home. He’d follow along, normally on the opposite side of the street, sometimes along the rooftops, but always far enough away to not arouse your suspicions. 

He watches the drunk man walk out and stumble his way down the street until he turns to where Frank can no longer see him. He watches you walk out a few hours later, immediately recoiling at the cold. He can’t help the smile that overtakes his face at your actions, always finding anything you do absolutely adorable. He watches you bundle up to try and fight off the chill. He comes away from the corner of the building as you begin to walk, following behind on the other side of the street. He stops when you stop, confused as to why you quit walking. Ducking behind the building he’s next to the second he sees you turn your head around. That confusion immediately turns into concern when he peeks back around and you’re no longer there. 

Without a second thought he immediately begins to run to where he last saw you, feeling his heartbeat begin to go faster and faster, the fear taking over every ounce of his body. He won’t let anything bad happen to you, he has to keep you safe no matter what. The Irrational and scared part of his brain thinks that you’ve disappeared into thin air when he gets to where you were previously standing and there’s no sign of you anywhere, but the more rational and lethal part of his brain knows you’ve been taken. His saving grace arrives in the form of a scream, a yell of his name. 

Just a yell in the night away.

Running in the direction of your scream all he sees is red. He promised himself that he would never do this again. That Frank Castle and the Punisher would stay dead, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and right now it was all about saving you. 

~

The man’s hand feels so grimy against your skin, the urge to bite him is overwhelmed by the fear of whatever diseases he may carry. He shushes you like you’re some sort of crying child, “There, there, why don’t you stop fucking squirming now, huh’?” pulling you further into the alleyway, and it’s only on your next struggle away do you feel something prick you in the side.

He has a knife. 

The thought makes you immediately stop wiggling, and the man behind you chuckles at your realisation. “Yeah that’s right, you make one wrong move or don’t obey me and this knife is going somewhere you don’t want it to go.” Breathing heavily against the side of your head you can smell his breath wafting into your face and it makes you want to vomit at the pungent smell of decay and alcohol. It’s only when the man asks for all the tips you made for the night do you realise it’s the dirty man from the diner. 

The one who was obviously into you in a more sexual manner. 

With this in mind you make one more attempt at a great escape. Slamming the heel of your foot down as hard as you could onto his the man lets out a short scream, loosening his grip just enough for you to wiggle your way out and try to run to the mouth of the alley. Your efforts are futile when a grimy hand wraps it way around your waist to pull you back. 

So as a last effort you do the only thing you can think of, even if it won’t work, you can’t say you didn’t try. You pull in as much air as you can and scream for Pete.

Your scream is cut off when the hand reslaps over your mouth and the man begins to hurl curses at you. “You really think that freak from the dinner is going to come and help? Huh?” You zone out of his words at the feeling of something wet dripping down your side. When you look down you realise that you can see his hand and most of the knife, but not the end of it. And it’s only when you focus on it do you feel the searing pain emanating from that general area. 

The man must have noticed where your line of sight had gone when he began to chuckle. “Yeah bitch that’s right. This is what happens when you don’t listen.” You feel more blood begin to ooze out when he begins to slowly push the knife in further, but he never gets the chance because something rips him away from you. 

You can hear the sounds of a struggle, the sound of someone screaming and the distinct sound of someone's skull cracking open on the brick of the alleyway. It’s only when the familiar sound of a gruff voice yells out do you realise who came to save you. 

Pete.

Slumping against the wall from relief and blood loss you bring a hand to your side only to find the knife still wedged in your skin. Making a move to pull it out you’re stopped by a rough hand wrapping around yours. “Don’t.” words a hushed whisper. “I don’t want you to possibly hurt yourself anymore.” You find yourself nodding, looking at the man crouched in front of you, his chest heaving, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He’s got blood spray on him, covering most of his hands but there's a few drops across the side of his head and neck.

You look from Pete over to the man who attacked you, only to find him unmoving. Not even a rise of his chest. You find that you don’t really care when Pete brings one bloodied hand up to your chin to pull your face back to look at him. 

“Can you stand sweetheart? I need to get you somewhere so I can fix this.” With his help you try and get up, only making it a few inches off the ground when you stop, yelping in pain. He shushes your whines and whimpers of pain as he lowers you back down, a hand moving to smooth your hair back in a soothing gesture, blunt nails gently raking across your scalp. “It’s okay sweetheart I got you, don’t worry I’m gonna take care of this.” 

He moves from in front of you to the side of your body that hasn’t been stabbed, the hand in your hair moves to cradle your middle back. He brings your arm up to wrap around his neck, and then moves down to gently slot his arm under your knees. “How did you find me, Pete?” words partially slurred as your world starts to turn blurry, he ignores your question and instead settles for quietly telling you to try and hold still while he lifts you up. He carries you quickly and quietly out of the alley and into the street, going the opposite way of your apartment. You can tell he’s not walking at his usual gait, his steps are calculated, more precise in an effort to not jostle you too much. He looks straight ahead, jaw clenched so tightly you think it might break at any moment. Through your blurry mind you remember he never answered your question, so you ask again. “Pete?” bringing the hand around his neck up to gently thumb at his hairline. “How did you find me?” 

His steps falter slightly, eyes quickly glancing over to you before he snaps out of it and continues walking. You can see his jaw unclench, lips parting as if to answer you before they close again. “Pete,” you try in your most pleading tone, “Please.” You can see his inner resolve cracking away as he looks down at you. Eyes losing that darkened look, his face moving into a more relaxed look, lips going from a thin, stretched, line to an almost unnoticeable smile. 

“I’m only a yell in the night away baby.”

~

Originally posted April 23rd, 2022.

[zablife]

Ordering some fluffy, maybe smutty Hangman banter, please 🤭 No pressure though 🥰

Five servicemen played pool in the corner, the blonde constantly giving you the eye. You averted your gaze, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. "Looks like someone's got a crush," the new waitress said with a smirk. 

Going back to your work behind the bar, you shrugged. "He's handsome in a Ken doll kinda way, I suppose."

"Well if you're not gonna fuck him, I sure will," she said bluntly, sending a little wave in his direction. Jake gave her a dazzling smile, showing off his shining white teeth and you turned away to finish your work behind the bar.

Just then a handsome older gentleman approached asking for a beer and you began pouring it from the tap as you engaged in polite conversation. He told a joke and you laughed. You found it advantageous to play along, finding the tips better than the punchlines most nights. 

You hadn't noticed, but Jake had sauntered over, a cocky strut to his walk as he approached. "When you get a chance, I'd like another round, sweetheart," Jake announced politely, his southern drawl more pronounced after a few beers. You whipped around to see him leaning over the bar, tanned forearm stretched across the polished wood.

"Just a minute," you said, holding up one finger, surveying the people crowding the bar. You finished with the customer in front of you, giving him plenty of attention in order to maximize your tip. Tucking the cash he gave you inside your back pocket, you turned back to Jake. 

Handing him another beer, you couldn't help but notice the disappointed look in his eye. "Too busy for me tonight, darlin'?" he asked, taking a swig from the bottle. He watched the other man at the end of the bar carefully before glancing back at you. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you said, jerking your head toward the new waitress. Jake chuckled, placing his beer on the bar and reaching for your hand. 

"Jake, I'm two deep," you told him, pulling away as you grabbed the glasses you needed.

"I'd like to be deep inside you right now," he said low enough only you could hear. You shot him a warning glance as you mixed the cocktails that had been ordered, feeling his eyes boring a hole into you. 

“Don’t make me ring the bell, Seresin,” you threatened, tapping the sign behind you. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Jake replied, holding his hand to his heart. He knew the rules and he would never disrespect a lady. However, he would annoy you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Sure you don’t need your bell wrung, darlin’? You’re awful tense,” he said, unable to hold back his laughter.

Your arm jerked up toward the rope, but Jake caught your wrist just in time. “Too much?” he asked apologetically.

“I’m tired, Jake. Let me get this round out, please,” you begged. He nodded, releasing you so you could serve the drinks. Coming back to where he stood with an exhausted expression on your face he asked, "You gettin' a break tonight or do you live back there now?"

"It's called work, Jake. Not everyone can play with jets all day then flirt all night," you retorted as Penny swept behind you with a fresh tray.

"Penny, this young lady needs a break. She looks positively fatigued," Jake called to the proprietor.

Penny looked up from behind the bar with a quirked eyebrow, then back at you. “I’m fine. Ignore him," you said dismissively.

"No, you should go. You've been busting your ass all night," she agreed. “Get out of here!” she implored with a wave of her hand. Knowing it was useless to argue, you removed your apron and stowed it under the counter before allowing Jake to lead you away.

The new girl approached the bar, resting her tray on the bar as she watched you walk away arm in arm, Jake leaning down to place a heated kiss to your lips before slapping your ass. "Hey, what the fuck?" she asked with indignation and growing curiosity. She had wanted to be the one to go home with the handsome aviator.

Penny snickered, "That's just the Seresins, you'll get used to 'em, honey.”

[poppyandzena]

I don't think I've ever sent in an ask here, but I saw something that made my skin crawl enough to say something about it, beyond just watching and keeping myself informed and abreast of people I used to passingly watch and respect.

In response to a comment from a week ago that said:

"When reading the Milena doc, I was pretty intimidated by the sheer quantity of it. But once I started going through it I was confused. I kept asking "Where is the abuse?" It didn't make any sense to me. All I was seeing was conflict. ... The other [thing that tipped me off that something was fishy] is when [Milena] accuses "financial abuse" when Poppy lamented all the money, time, and energy that went into a relationship that has ended. Considering the custom engagement ring Poppy got for Noeh, it's NORMAL to feel upset, regretful, or even angry. Poppy didn't demand Noeh pay for it either, which I would expect if there was "financial abuse". The accusation is horseshit and Milena knows it. The Poppyamory docs sound like an exercise in throwing everything at the wall and seeing what sticks."

Three hours ago at my time of writing this, they responded that, "It wasn't an engagement ring. More of a celebrating the relationship kind of thing. Funny story is that she has both of them. We couldn't look at it anymore and gave it to her when she walked out."

Are... are they joking? How can they claim to be responsible and professional when they're downplaying the harm that they've done to such a degree? Is it a genuine belief of theirs that financial abuse couldn't have happened if there was an expensive gift given by the abusive party? That's not how abuse works and they know it. It's the same pattern as always-- the same pattern as with Spawn, too, but they won't admit it.

I just genuinely can not believe that they act like this.

"Celebrating the relationship." Four months of actual interaction, all online, most of it being Poppy trying to isolate Noeh from her partners one by one and stressing her to the point of dissociative episodes.

Poppy also held gifts over Noeh's head. The rings, the Webcam, the tickets, the commissioned moth sona artwork. The "my ex owes me hundreds of dollars I spent on her." Noeh didn't pressure into doing that. Poppy did it herself and held it against Noeh later.

[raudart]

Please go on a rant about the crown, I'd love to hear it

ok here goes!!!

so part of my job is to design custom engagement rings for people and i get to work with diamonds and gemstones on a daily basis, hence the desire to redesign the g1 crown to better fit with prime starscream's design.

generally speaking i am not a fan of the g1 crown now that i know what i'm doing when it comes to jewelry like what is going on???

assuming that is a coffin cut? baguette accents on either side around the rim and barrels(?) for the tips of each point?

for the stones i decided to go with garnet as opposed to rubies and red diamonds simply because garnets are my favorite gemstone. i prefer the rich, dark shades and thought the deeper red would work well with the lighting i had already started working on when i began work on coloring the gemstone facets.

the center stone had to be a marquise cut because i wanted something that would mimic his red crest (due to the fact that it would be mostly covered) and to match the baguette accent stones on either side of the g1 crown i chose step cut squares in a channel setting. the three points at the tops of the crown are accented with trillions.

(yes i did painstakingly draw every single visible facet by hand because i didn't realize i could just use the radial symmetry tool to get the same result smh)

coloring gold is an ongoing learning experience but i am pretty happy with how it turned out on this piece (though looking back on it i would have gone darker with the shading in some areas). each of the stones has filed prongs (6 on the marquise for the appropriate amount of security) to match starscream's sharp points. the forks and negative spaces are to keep the design more tiara-like rather than one solid gold dome, accentuating the shapes of his helm rather than hiding them. i pull a lot of inspiration from design elements i see in rings i handle every day and thought this piece would be a good way to play around with that.

thank you so much for asking!!! hope you enjoy my info dump!!!

[jarofstyles]

Petals and Prompts

Hello! It’s been a while… but here we are! Part 3 to A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes! Princerry returns.

I hope you enjoy it! Please let us know.

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A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes Masterlist

—-

Harry was smitten.

There was no doubt about it. Every moment he was around her, his stomach was filled with butterflies and his cheeks heated far more often than he had wanted. She was everything he could have wanted. Sharing laughs, and difficult discussions, she managed to make him feel comfortable. Human. Ways he had never experienced before.

Looking at her across the table as she had a chat with his sister and laughed, holding fans to their faces and cooling off from the warm garden, he realized fully how lucky he was. She was glowing. Skin dewy and radiant, the soft pout of her lips. The curve of her nose and the long lashes that fanned her cheeks. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and she was to be his. Harry’s and his alone.

His eyes traced her as he sipped his drink, happy she asked his sister to join them for the sole reason of getting to observe her. The way her eyes brightened and dulled at certain topics.

The beautiful laugh that fell from her lips and how she would tip her head back. The sass and snarl when talking about people they disliked. Every so often checking in with Harry to make sure he was okay and enjoying himself. All it took was a fond smile and nod and she would continue her conversation. No one had ever checked on his comfort so intently before. So, no. Harry didn’t mind at all that their lunch had been overtaken by his sister.

They’d made fast friends, Isabella and Y/N. His sweet girl had managed to charm the entirety of the family. Funnily enough, Isabella would be the hardest to impress out of everyone. Protective of her brother in her own right, she had told him who to stay away from many a time. Hearing of the defense she gave of Harry’s honor just a few weeks back had softened her up immensely. Add in a shared interest in flowers and Isabella promising to teach her some new embroidery techniques, it had turned into a lovely thing. The only downside was Harry becoming the target of their teasing.

“And he ran out almost naked! From a mere bug on his bed!” Isabella used one of his embarrassing moments to have Y/N in a fit of chuckles, making him give a faux glower at the pair. “Future king.. terrified of a little beetle!”

“I was 13.” He deadpanned, crossing his arms and raising his brow at the both of them. “Isabella, I know plenty of embarrassing stories of you. You are lucky I am polite enough to spare Y/N the embarrassment of recalling them.” He sniffed, nose in the air. Playful, but also a slight warning.

“Rude.” The girl huffed, smoothing out her dress. “I am being targeted because I simply share fond memories of you as a young lad with the woman who somehow puts up with you! You can back out, Y/N. It isn’t too late.” She leaned in, placing the fan to block her mouth but saying loud enough for him to hear. “He snores sometimes. And he smells atrocious after training! You can spare yourself.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she saw Harry’s mouth drop open in scandal. “Somehow, I think I can make do with that. Sacrifices. He’s such a pretty thing.” She sighed, looking over his face. That had him smirking, a bit of a puff to the ego. “I quite like him, so I’m afraid you all are stuck with me.” She looked at the ring on her finger that showed the promise. The engagement.

Harry had made it custom for her. Small rubies surrounding a single, large princess cut diamond. It sparkled in even the dullest light. Two emeralds mixed with the rubies, signifying how she spoke of his eyes and the night they had met. She had nearly sobbed at the sight of it and the explanation when he had gotten down on one knee at the fountain.

They were only a few days away from the engagement ball. Y/N was helping the queen most days with preparations and taking on a few duties of her own. Learning from her to see what she would be doing one day. It warmed Harry to know that she was inside the castle most days.

He couldn’t wait for the days he could retire to their own quarters. Spend time with her alone, and truly alone. No limits on what they could do. Kisses on the cheek, the neck, the arms only quenched so much of his thirst. Though… Harry knew that he would wait years if it meant she was at the end of the finish line.

“Isabella, I think it is time for you to help mother. I would like some alone time with Lady Y/N, please.” He had shared enough of her during their scheduled time. He wanted to spend some of it closer to her.

“Fine. Kick me away from my new friend.” She grumbled, collecting her skirts and smoothing them as she stood up. “Give me a call if he gives you any issues at all, Y/N. I am incredibly fond of the cake you’ve chosen, but I won’t hesitate to smear some on his ugly mug.” She teased before flouncing off towards her room.

Y/N gave Harry a fond smile, allowing him to help her up and take her into his arms for an embrace. It wasn’t anything too drastic, and the prince knew that they’d be watched, but he snuck a kiss to the curve of her jaw. “Radiant as always, my dove.” He pulled away and gently took her hand to lead her through the gardens. A stroll was their favorite pastime, her arm looped through his as they examine the florals and Harry watched his beloved fiancé ‘ooooh’ and ‘awe’ over each petal.

Something so simple managed to make the woman he was falling heavily for so happy. When trying to meet other women in the past, it was always the castle's golden archways or the silver placeware, the pearls Harry sometimes adorned around his neck. It was the luxury of it all that wooed them and nothing else.

Y/N was pleased with the flowers. The company. She never blinked twice at the golden rings that covered Harry’s hands besides to play with them as they spoke at times. She never expressed jealousy over belongings. It was so refreshing to him to find her in the library, speaking with one of his advisors over books. A well read, educated woman was incredibly intimidating for a lot of people. Not to him.

Her intelligence was one of the things that called to him the most. Their philosophical and theoretical conversations, the politics they agreed upon, the societal differences and being able to actually have discussions when they disagreed on subjects was something Harry had never experienced in almost anyone else.

Now he would be lucky enough to call her his wife.

“I am growing more and more excited as the days pass.” She murmured, fingers stroking the white petals of the daisies. “To live here and explore these gardens everyday. With you.” Her face turned to him and made his heart skip a few bears. He was positive that her smile could kill him. Shock his heart with the overflowing of love that conjugated there.

“It is the same for me.” His words were softer than the sweet summer breeze in this garden. “I wake up every day longing for the day we don’t need supervision to be with one another. It wouldn’t be proper to kiss you out here now… but in a while, it will be. And I crave that.”

“As do I.” Her voice was soft, not wanting to be overheard. “I never understood before, you know?” A slight tilt of the head had Harry humming, her cue to go on. “How people just… were happy settling down. Having one person to be their life partner. I thought that love was something rare. Sometimes I still think it is… but I was lucky enough to have you stumble upon me.” Her eyes met his. “It doesn’t scare me like I thought it might. The idea of forever at someone’s side. I think… if it was anyone else? Perhaps. I may not like it. I like fluidity, I love movement. But with you?” She squeezed his hand firmly. “It doesn’t feel like a trap. I’m not naive… I know that the castle is somewhat of a gilded cage. But I don’t think I’ll mind if the other bird in it is you.” Her head rested upon his shoulder, a dreamy sigh leaving her mouth.

“They were trying to scare me.” Her soft admission made him turn slightly, trying to gage her face. Alarm went through him at the idea of someone trying to harm her, even just her peace.

“Who?” He questioned, stopping their pace. “What did they say to upset you?” The pure concern was written on his face. Harry was a fierce protector. It had been a lot to know that even before people had been cruel to her about his decision. Like being rude would change either of their hearts. Both of them were stronger than that.

“Do you know Anastasia?” she questioned, watching his face as he thought for a moment before nodding. She was a socialite, married into nobility and recently widowed. Young, just a few years older than Y/N. Harry did not like her company. Something about her seemed so… slimy. Unsettling. Like a snake. An eel, more like.

“Well, I was getting fitted for a few dresses the other day in town… she and her group of gossipers were definitely trying to pick my weak spots.” She shook her head, feeling irritation prickle on her skin.

“They were saying as a royal I would have no freedom. There would be no time to read books, to talk to people. That I would have to sit by your side and nod and be pleasant. I wouldn’t be allowed to see my family often. All of these things that I know to be mostly untrue.” She placed a hand over his. “I am not unaware of the fact that I will not live as I used to. I will be busier, I will not have the same freedoms, no. It will be different ones. It is an adjustment, isn’t it? Life gives us new chapters to live and learn… I am not afraid of it. But they know I have always spoken of wanting to travel the world. They would scoff when they saw me reading when I was younger. It just… irritated me.” She wanted to let him know. He would be her partner and deserved to know these things.

Harry hated that people tried to ruin her happiness. It was pure jealousy and spite, the both of them knew that, but the idea of it was still sickly. They let the tentacle of greed wrap around them and turn them into puppets for the emotion. Not realizing that there was no way to change it. Nothing could be done. Harry was completely and utterly smitten with her and no other woman would tempt him to change his mind.

“I’m sorry, dearest.” He sighed. “I understand. You’ve taken the changes with such grace. It won’t be an easy transition, I will never lie about that. There is a lot to learn. However- just seeing you here? How you’ve taken to planning with my mother, how you deal with people like that? You were made to be my queen.” His hand brought hers up to his mouth, kissing the knuckles tenderly. “You’ve got the spirit for it. The drive. You want to better the kingdom. You don’t want the riches and luxury these women are thinking you’re being handed.” Granted, Harry had had countless jewelry pieces being made at the moment for her, custom crowns and dresses she had no idea about. But that was the point.

“A spirit that sets the world on fire like yours? It’s once in a lifetime. There’s no one else like you. They want these gardens and a title but they would never be able to handle the things you and I will. The reform.” His voice dropped again. “The projects. You’ve proven to be a worthy leader before I’ve even kissed you properly. I know in my heart of hearts that you’re the only person for me.” The statement left no room to be discussed.

“If you’d like, I can have Anastasia barred from our parties… I’ll have them moved to another village. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable on our special days.”

The engagement party, the wedding, the dozens of holiday balls. Harry wouldn’t blink an eye with banning anyone if it meant she was happier. But that wasn’t who she was.

“It’s alright. I would prefer her to stew in her own anger and pity in her seat while we have the best times together. I know that will be a better revenge than banning her from the parties.” Y/N’s little smirk and revenge streak did something to him. It wasn’t appropriate but he knew that when they were wed and she showed a bit of her devilish side? He would have no choice but to drag her to bed.

“As you wish, my love.” He kissed her hand again, lips sticking to the skin longer than it needed to before he looped their arms again. “Now… show me your favorite flower so far. I will make certain it is present at the wedding.”

[dreamingofyeo]

Mafia Mingi & Jongho x undercover reader oneshot tws: harsh language, suggestive, threat, angst, use of name ‘doll’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You delicately circle the rim of your glass with the tip of your finger at the bar, the ice has long since melted. You're not here for a good time. For such 'threats', the two men you're yet to see in the exquisite space aren't exactly punctual.

sending a subtle glance toward the door, you adjust your glasses, clicking the hidden button in the process to view the men's digital profiles again before the action starts. They're possibly the most useful tool for you in your line of work, subtlety and information at your fingertips, the entire database for Arriba is on them.

[ name : 송민기 Song Mingi ] [ 09.08.99 - 24yo - male - 1.83m ] [ member of 'The Black Pirates'. Specialises in pyrotechnics] [ wanted for: arson, assault, breaking and entering, murder ] [ only engage with backup ]

[ name: 최종호 Choi Jongho ]

[ 12.10.00 - 23 - male - 1.76m ]

[ member of 'The Black Pirates'. Specialises in reconnaissance ]

[ Wanted for: assault, breaking and entering ]

Only thing they’re missing is pictures next to them. You scoff inwardly at the level of supposed 'threat' they posed, you'd been sent on far more dangerous missions. all you had to do was your own bit of reconnaissance and report back to your leader. These 'black pirates' as they call themselves have been getting rather ballsy lately, almost half of Arriba's clientele have switched to them, a fact your boss is none to happy about. Your brief for the evening is to simply observe how they present themselves to said clientele, if you find an angle to work, their prospective 'customers' can be turned away. You could care less personally for the little turf war that is playing out, but its better to nip it in the bud than wait for them to decide if they want to wipe out your crew all together.

Just then, the sound of the bell in the entryway rings out behind you. You bring your glass to your lips but swallow nothing. The sound of boots on marble comes closer painfully slowly before coming to a halt, arms leaning on the bar table. He calls the barman over with a short tight whistle.

The man in question turns around, an equally tight smile forced onto his otherwise tense countenance.

"Ah Mr. Song, what can I get you tonight?" he gets out, customer voice on full display, so much so you almost have to suppress a chuckle.

"I'll get a tequila sunrise, and one for this lovely doll here" he says, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he says the words.

Knowing you cannot avoid the interaction, you turn towards him- putting on your best acting skills. The words from his profile screaming at you to get out of the situation.

"Hello, I'm sorry but I already have a drink, don't want to overdo it" you smile coyly at him.

the barman chuckles lightly, "You say that y/n, I'm not even sure why you're here tonight, it doesn't even look like you've touched your glass"

Bastard. You could slit his throat right now.

you only offer a light laugh in return before giving him and your onlooker a plausible story for your lack of drinking. Unfortunately, your alcohol consumption does not seem to be the only thing lacking as the man you're here for raises one eyebrow at you and the barman simply nods. Just great, if they didn't already know your face this Mingi would've definitely caught onto something being amiss by now.

it's then that you realise the lack of his partner and your mind freezes. You never gave the bartender your name.

Jongho specialises in reconnaissance, Mingi specialises in pyrotechniques. Mingi is near rows of alcohol, Jongho is somewhere in the room, waiting for the opportune moment to enact whatever plan they've got going. They know, they must've caught onto Arriba's plan- either that or there's a mole. You need to abort the mission, now.

You can't run. It's not an option, not when you don't know where Jongho is lurking. The possibility of a mole is information so crucial to return it's not worth the risk of being captured or worse, dying. The only plausible option in front of you right now is to play into the tone Mingi used when he first approached you- disgusted as it makes you.

"Yeah that was a lie, my apologies. I thought I'd try something different tonight but its not to my taste, I'll take that drink if its still on offer please sir." you delicately say, lightly placing your hand on his upper arm. You can hold your alcohol, you'll just have to hope he can't.

For a moment he looks taken aback, as if not exactly knowing what to do next. For only a moment, then he nods at the bartender who all but leaps into action making the tequila sunrises. Leading with your story, you decide to push it a bit further.

"Like I say, this is not to my taste, you're more than welcome to finish it." you say, pushing the glass towards him.

He takes it to his lips and takes what's most likely an amount equivalent to a shot straight. Enemy as he might be, you'd have to be blind to not acknowledge how attractive it is, or he is for that matter.

4 drinks later and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. Only to leave it coming face to face with a man. He is so uniquely beautiful you simply freeze in place. You don't even notice the familiarity of his shirt thanks to the alcohol.

He tilts his head knowingly before speaking in a low tone.

"Starstruck?"

this draws a light scoff from you, you're not that far gone.

"Cocky?" you counter. He smirks walking closer to you.

"maybe."

fuck...

"Either way, you don't seem to be complaining." he offers, now very close to you. Who cares. The mission went to shit anyway, why not enjoy yourself a bit.

"What's your name?" you ask lightly, his fingertips pushing a lock of hair behind your ear just as gently.

"You'll have to earn that one I'm afraid doll." He pulls back and tilts his head slightly again.

"what's yours?" he asks like he already knows the answer, you're so far gone from his proximity you can't find it in you to care if he really does or not.

fuck it.

"not a chance" you say lowly before leaning forward and connecting your lips.

He kisses you back almost instantly, fingers threading through your hair, connecting them to the back of your head. Your glasses bump against him, he removes them from your face without a word and goes back to you, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth gently causing you to gasp into his mouth. You feel him smirk against you before pulling away, leaving one last soft peck.

You know damn well your eyes are glassed over with longing right now, he chuckles at the fact before speaking.

"Sorry doll, you're a little too drunk for anything else, I'll see you again." He lifts your knuckles to his mouth and kisses them lightly before turning and walking out into the main room of the bar, turning right towards the exit.

As you collect yourself you realise like a punch to the gut that he still has your glasses. You race after him, only to find the bar now completely empty, not even the bartender is there.

The bartender.

The man's shirt.

The petname the man used.

How unusually badly you handled the alcohol.

The lifelike mask matching the bartender's face you spot laid out perfectly on the bar table next to where you now stand, a note at its side.

'sorry for getting you wasted doll' it reads. You can almost see the smirk on his damn face.

Specialises in reconnaissance indeed.

Choi fucking Jongho.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

a/n: happy new year! written straight onto the post, will likely edit later. also I've never written a oneshot or anything suggestive before so please bare with me while I try to figure out how to do it well haha. I'm pretty happy with how this turned out though please lmk what you think and if you'd like to be added to the permanent taglist for my work <3

taglist: @jongnado @voicesinmyhead-rc @n3atjok3r246