#how much is a 1 carat diamond ring worth

[webuydiamond1]

Exploring the Value of Diamonds: A Look at Quality and Rarity

Discover the factors influencing the value of diamonds, including carat weight, cut, colour, and clarity. Learn how much diamonds are worth and what affects diamond ring value.

https://www.whizolosophy.com/category/rights-freedom/article-column/exploring-the-value-of-diamonds-a-look-at-quality-and-rarity

[prettymonegasque]

i'll make up for all of your tears

Fic 1 of the 5 Seconds of Formula One series

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Song: Best Years by 5SOS

You've got a million reasons to hesitate

But darling, the future's better than yesterday

"This is a grade-F diamond, sir. It's 2 carats with a platinum band." The salesperson at the store started explaining as Max zoned out.

Being a Formula One Driver with multiple championships under his belt came with the perk of getting everything he wished for, and boy did he use it. However, the thing he wanted most, unfortunately, didn't come with a price tag on it.

He hated the name Y/N L/N, not the first part, the L/N part. He's been working tirelessly since he was 3 to change it to Verstappen and he's closer now than he ever was. Yet a little voice in him constantly whispered "What if you're not good enough for her?" Max knew that voice wasn't wrong.

2015

Max really missed his best friend. He was extremely grateful that he was on a flight home right now because he wasn't sure how long his sanity would last.

Max was ready to sprint to your house the minute they landed, but his father had other plans. Jos had arranged for a meeting with Max's team to discuss the season so far. Scoring points in his debut Formula One season wasn't something Max expected. He knew it was expected of him but never by him. Maybe it was beginner's luck or maybe he let it get to his head, he couldn't score any points in the last few races.

By the time the meeting was over, Max wasn't sure if he was still alive. He was tormented ruthlessly by his dad. He knew it was all for his good. Everything his dad ever did was for Max to become the World Champion one day. He understood that and he was beyond guilty for messing with that plan with his incompetency. Before he realised, his legs had brought him to your doorstep.

"Maxie! You're back!" The smile on your face was enough for Max. He spent the rest of the day in your room while you caught him up to speed with everything that had happened while he was away. "Oh and then Anton kissed me at the formal! It was beautiful, Max. He brought me flowers and everything" Max could feel his eyes twitching.

He wanted to be your first kiss. He knew he wouldn't be able to make it to the dance, but he didn't know he'd be losing you that night. "Anton kissed you?" he tried to remain calm. "Yes. Love Me Like You Do was playing, and it was all very romantic. You were right, Max. It was worth the wait. He even asked me out!" He was about to lose it.

Every time you complained that you hadn't had your first kiss yet, Max would ask you to be patient. He wanted to make something of himself before he kissed you and now it backfired on him spectacularly. "You let Anton kiss you?? That wimpy little bastard?" Anton wasn't going to win a beauty pageant any time soon but you liked him. He was your boyfriend.

"Don't call him that, Maxie. I really like him. He's nice to me."

"Yeah sure, did he have to use his inhaler mid-kiss?"

"Max that is so rude! Can you not be a jerk?" You tried your best to reason with him. "No no. I wish you and Anton a happy relationship. Don't come crying to me when you find out his dick is smaller than your pinky." Max stormed out of the room, slamming the door on his way out. He knew he crossed a line. He could hear you crying. He hated the person he was in that room.

I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you

Gave you a million reasons to walk away

Present Day

He'd been to every jeweller in Monte Carlo. Not a single one of them had a ring that would be worthy of your hand. Max was getting frustrated. He can't screw up the ring. It's the only thing that matters in a proposal. No one ever asks "Can I hear the long lame speech Max said on one knee?", it's always "Can I see the ring?" He sighed as he entered another store, Chaumet. It was supposed to have some unique pieces. The same warm tight smile welcomed him in the store. He explained to the salesperson what he was looking for. He was shown the same basic rings he saw in the last eight shops.

"No. No. No, none of these are good. I'm looking for something unique. Something extraordinary. This person means everything to me and while the ring can never be worthy of her, I want it to try." Max was exasperated. His throat was starting to close up and he looked like he was about to strangle someone. The employee gave a polite smile and went to the back. He returned with a small box.

"This is a pear-cut Amsterdam diamond. It's our rarest piece. This isn't for public display but I think this is exactly what you're looking for." The salesperson had a smirk that was proud yet humble at the same time. Max hesitantly took a closer look at the ring. It wasn't huge but it surely looked rare and exotic, just like you. "I'll take it"

2018

As you've done every year, you showed up to the Kumpen Christmas Dinner. But this time there was a man by your side. Lo and behold, it was Anton. To Max's frustration, Anton had quite the glow-up. He was no longer the skimpy little kid with an inhaler. And Max couldn't bear looking at you look at him like he hung the fucking moon and stars for you. You were supposed to look at Max that way.

"So, Max, how are things in F1 world?" You made polite conversation as you cut your steak. "It's alright," Max replied. "You know, Anton works at Goldman Sachs. Aren't they a sponsor of some Formula One team?" You questioned. "Ah yes. We sponsor Mclaren." Anton smiled. "Maybe you two should visit Max during one of his races next season. Wouldn't that be nice?" Sophie suggested. "Oh, that would be fun! We should plan that, Max." You were excited by the idea.

"I don't know. Christian wouldn't be happy with letting in Mclaren people in the garage."

"We'd come as your friends"

"Yeah, I don't think so." Max stood up dropped his serviette and walked out the door. Of course, it wasn't his first time walking out of a room you were in.

Max knew it was a really bad idea to go to a strip club. He makes bad decisions even when calm and sober, who knows what will happen when he's angry and shit-faced. He was cold from walking in the snow for the last three hours and it was the only place open at 1 am on Christmas Day.

He couldn't see well in the dark but he sort of remembered tipping a stripper €1000 for a lap dance. He was getting angrier by the second. He was losing you by the second and there was nothing he could do to get you. He waited too long and everything slipped away from him. He had officially hit rock bottom.

"Hey, sexy. I'm Y/N. You here all by yourself?" Max thought he was hallucinating. There was no way you were at the strip club. He turned to see a blonde in a baby-blue bodysuit. It wasn't his Y/N. "What's your name?" Max slurred. "It's Y/N. But I can be whatever you want tonight." She started running her finger up his torso. "No. No. I want you to be Y/N." Max got up and dragged her to the private room.

I wanna hold you hair when you drink too much

Carry you home when you cannot stand up

Present Day

It's been a week since Max got the ring. He kept it safely hidden. He couldn't find the perfect moment to pop the question. He wanted everything to be perfect for his perfect girl. He can't mess this up.

2020

"He broke up with me" You stood in front of his flat. Max took a second to process the sight in front of him. You were clearly drunk and had been crying. Your makeup was running down your face. There was a dirty bouquet tightly clutched in your hands. Max simply brought you in and sat you on the couch while he went to grab some wet wipes.

He could hear your quiet sobs from his room. His heart broke to see you like this. He wanted to kill Anton. That motherfucker should've been dead long ago. He was spared for Y/N. Nothing was protecting him now. Max put away those thoughts for a bit and worked on getting you sober.

He walked into the living room. "I threw up." You said staring at the ceiling. There weren't any emotions in your eyes. You looked like a shell of the person you once were. Max carried you to the bathroom. He'd worry about the mess later.

He sat you on the counter and started wiping away your makeup and tears. You soon started to heave and leapt towards the toilet. Max held your hair back as you were throwing up. Part of him knew this was his redemption. This was his chance to make you, his. Unfortunately, he was raised better. He wasn't going to ask you out until he was worthy of you. He discarded those thoughts and carried you to the bed, pulling a duvet over you.

"Maxie, I'm still mad at you for not making it to the formal." He heard you mumble with your eyes still closed. "Me too, schatje. Me too." He whispered and turned off the light.

But I'll build a house out of the mess And all the broken pieces I'll make up for all of your tears

Present Day

Max could barely focus on the slides. He was stuck in an aero meeting, but his thoughts were all on the little black box burning a hole in his pocket. Of course, he carried it to Milton Keynes. He carries it everywhere.

He replayed every scenario where he was an asshole to you. You forgave him every time, but he knew he wasn't worthy of your forgiveness. You were too pure, too sweet for him. One misstep and you'll recoil away from forever. His stomach gurgled and he started sweating. He could feel his heartbeat racing.

"Excuse me." He walked out of the room with the little modesty left in him before sprinting outside. Fresh air and your voice are the only things that could save him now. 

“Hey. It’s me.”

2021

Everything was down to the last lap. This was everything Max had worked for. Every late night, every lashing from his dad, every missed formal, every second he spent away from you. It was all for this very second. As he turned towards Turn 16 in the Yas Marina Circuit, your face was all he could see. The chequered flag waved as he crossed the line. He’s won the 2021 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, he’s won the World Driver’s Championship. Most importantly, he’s won you. He’s finally worthy of you. 

He could not care less about the controversy surrounding his win. He parked his car in the No. 1 spot and ran towards his team. This was his moment, he wasn’t going to let some legal altercations take it away from him. 

He spotted you in the crowd from the podium, you were crying and screaming the Dutch National Anthem. After the champagne, he chucked the trophy at his physio and ran to you. He wasn’t going to wait anymore. No more missing anything. He was all yours if you had him. 

You were waiting for him near the Red Bull garage. “Y/N. I need to talk to you.” Before you could reply, he pulled you aside. “I’ve waited long enough. I spent the last 21 years making a better man of myself. I don’t know if that cancels out on all the times I’ve been rude and insensitive to you. But schatje, I promise, from this second I will do everything in my ability to make myself worthy of you and your love.” 

I promise, darling, you won't regret The best years I'll give you the best years

Present Day

You were gonna come home any minute. Max had spent the entire day cleaning the house and cleaning it again. He even pulled out some Christmas lights and decorated the living room. “Maybe I should light some candles” He wondered out loud. Jimmy jumped onto the sofa from nowhere, scaring Max and negating the candle idea. 

When he said he was going to ask you to marry him in your house, his friends and family considered it a bit unromantic. His mum and sister went as far as sending him blogs titled “Top 10 romantic spots to get engaged” But this house was more than just a house, it was home. The pair of you carefully curated and constructed this house, making it your very own. 

The Smart Home system alerted Max that there was movement in the garage. You were here. He did a quick sweep of the room and sighed. He wasn’t sure if the sigh was out of anxiety or happiness, but he was going to find out in about 5 minutes.

The front door opened. “Max. I’m home.” You called out like you did every day. You placed your keys on the little Lighting McQueen and Sally key stand on the wall. Sassy was already nudging at your legs begging for attention. “Hey, girly. Where’s daddy?” You cooed. The house was a little too quiet. Maybe Max was in the sim room. You walked to the living room and turned the lights on. 

“What the fuck?” were the first words to come out of your mouth when you saw the entire room glowing with Christmas Lights and Max on one knee in the middle of the room. You must be asleep. There is no way this is happening. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” You started to tear up.

“Y/N. I’ve given you a million reasons to hesitate, a million reasons to walk away. Yet you stayed by me, every single time. I couldn’t ask for a better friend, a better lover and a better wife to spend the rest of my life with. I’ve wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you when I should’ve been by your side. I want to hold your hand as we grow old. I want to carry you home when you cannot stand up. You did all those things for me when I was half a man for you. But darling, I promise, I’ll give you the best years. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes, Max. I want to marry you.”

A/N: Ahh!! The first fic is out now!! I truly enjoyed writing this. If you saw this being posted on Nov 2 instead of Nov 1, as per schedule, turn the other way pls thanks. Oscar x English Love Affair is next. See you all on November 8. Send an ask to be added to the taglist.

Love, Abby x

taglist: @evermoreandroyalblue  @stelena-klayley @honethatty12 @pippyth3hippy

[lepetitfruit]

Okay!!! Here's the rest of it!! Hopefully!! Beneath the cut, because this also got long.

Fire, the second reason sapphires are visible different than diamond's, also has to do with refraction. When looking at a diamond, there are 2 basic types of sparkle - brilliance and fire. Brilliance is how bright the stone is, ie how much light it reflects back. Brilliance is seen as flashes of white and grey light. Like brilliance, fire is flashes light. Unlike brilliance, these flashes are rainbow! Fire occurs when a ray of light hits a facet juuust right, and like through a prism is split into its wavelengths. Fire is a result of refraction, and so happens more often and brighter in stones that have a high refractive index, such as diamonds. Sapphires have a lower refractive index, and so don't have any visible Fire.

All in all, sapphires make a decent diamond simulant! They're durable and bright, but very clearly not a diamond for anyone who looks very hard.

Cubic zirconia are the most popular diamond simulant. They are used in everything from costume jewelry to engagement rings, and can be found in jewelry from across the world. This is for 2 main reasons - cost, and their ability to imitate diamonds. Cubics are lab-grown and extremely inexpensive - a 1 carat stone can be as little as $20. For comparison, a 1ct natural diamond is worth anywhere from #5,000 - $15,000 depending on the source and quality. Diamond properties and qualities and how they effect price is a whooooolllllleee nother ball game. I digress. The second reason cubics are popular is their ability to imitate diamonds - they have a refractive index of ~2.17 and a hardness of 8. This means that to an untrained eye, they are extremely hard to distinguish.

However, not all is perfect. Because of their relatively low hardness, cubics scratch, chip, and break easily. Any ring containing cubics that is worn regularly will likely have damaged stones within months. Beyond that, the lower refractive index means that they show less fire and can be seen straight though at some angles. Though not the worst diamond simulant, I personally dislike cubics. This is mostly due to how easy they break, as replacing stones is a huge hassle, expensive(due to time cost), and frustrating for everyone involved

In my opinion, if you can't possibly go for a diamond, the best simulant on the market is moissanite. Moissanites have a hardness of 9.25 and a refractive index of ~2.67, making them the closest to diamonds in pure material terms. They are good for everyday wear, relatively inexpensive, and available in any size or shape you could dream of as they're lab grown. The biggest difference between diamonds and moissanites is that moissanite is a doubly refractive material. This mean that when a beam of light enters the medium, it splits in 2 as well as bending. This results in a stone with FAR more fire than a normal diamond, and a slight fuzzy effect when you look into the stone due to the doubling of the facets. In terms of fooling the eye, it's not nearly as effective as a cubics. However, they are a hands down better stone in every other measure.

And last but not least - lab grown diamonds. I find when most people go for diamond imitations, they are avoiding 2 things - cost, and unethical practices. Lab grown diamonds are an effective alternative, costing just 10% of what a comparable natural diamond would, and requiring no slave labour. The ethical thing is actually more complicated than that, but I'm not here to defend the diamond industry. Anyway. Lab grown diamonds, are in fact diamonds! They are created with the exact same materials and exhibit the same properties - barring slight differences in the type of inclusions they contain. Which is not important for this discussion. I continue to digress.

There's actually quite a bit of controversy in the jewelry world regarding lab grown diamonds - some people love them, some people hate them, some don't care. People like them for the reasons I outlined above - they're durable, beautiful, and inexpensive. People hate them because of those reasons, too. Lab grown diamonds are often seen as "diluting the market" by giving people less expensive alternatives to natural diamonds.

Many people are also concerned about stone switching - when a jeweler sells you one stone, in this case a natural diamond, and then puts another into your ring. Because lab grown diamonds are practically indistinguishable, this is a fair concern. To combat this, all lab grown diamonds must have a laser engraved serial number.

The shop I work at has made the choice not to buy and sell lab grown diamonds - if customer want to use one, they have to get it themselves or go through another jeweler. This is mostly due to the reason diamonds are so popular - prestige. No rich person wants to go to a jeweler that sells lab grown diamonds, and rich people are our main clientele. So, no lab growns.

Anyway, that probably all I have to say on the matter! Hopefully this was clear and helpful, I have no clue if I explained any of this well. Also, this is by far the longest post I have ever written, and it was a blast!!!! I may have to start a side blog just for answer questions like this. Huh that's an idea. Anyway, if you made it this far, congrats!!! Thank you!! Have a great day!!

stop shaming people for being passionate about the things that they love. stop mocking people for having unusual interests. like, honestly, i'm so tired of feeling embarrassed for being "too much". if being too much means having deep interests that fill my life with romanticism and excitement, then let me be!!! i'd much rather listen to anyone ranting about their latest obsession with 16th century swords than have a boring ordinary conversation with those who shame passionate people

[citynewsglobe]

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[saumil-soni]

9 TIPS FOR CHOOSING THE RIGHT LAB-GROWN DIAMOND ENGAGEMENT RING

An ever-increasing number of couples are going to lab precious stones rather than customary dug precious stones for their adornment manifestations. Lab-developed jewels are made in a controlled research facility setting as opposed to framed profound inside the World's covering, similar to normal precious stones. By and by, these shocking pearls are artificially indistinguishable from regular jewels. That implies they utilize similar materials and cycles as normal jewels to wind up with a stone that is beyond difficult to recognize from a mined jewel for all intents and purposes. Best of all, these qualities come at a much lower cost. It's one of the many reasons lab-developed precious stone wedding bands are turning out to be more well-known.

Be that as it may, before you pick the ideal ring, you ought to realize a couple of things about picking the ideal lab-developed jewel. In this article, we will investigate the universe of lab-developed jewels and give nine fundamental tips to those thinking of them as lab precious stone wedding bands.

Our Top Ways to Pick Lab-Developed Jewels

1. Financial plan: Similarly likewise with regular jewel shopping, a financial plan is basic. You will need to decide your financial plan in advance, not after you've shown up at the store. It's vital to take note that lab-developed precious stones are many times more practical than normal jewels. Nonetheless, a lab precious stone wedding band can in any case be one of the greater buys an individual makes in the course of their life, making it essential to know the amount you need to spend before you begin shopping.

2. Jewel Quality (The Four Cs): You'll see numerous similitudes between picking a characteristic stone and a lab jewel, like grasping the Four Cs - Carat weight, Cut, Variety, and Clearness. These variables enormously impact the precious stone's appearance and worth. They are similarly as appropriate to man-made precious stones as they are to earth-mined ones. Lab precious stones can for sure have less changeability here, with fewer incorporations and better tone, however the 4Cs actually turn out as expected. Few out of every odd lab precious stone is an ideal, dry, and impeccable example!

3. Certificate: Lab precious stones really do accompany affirmation; this is the way you should rest assured about their evaluation in every one of the 4 C classifications. Continuously demand a solid precious stone reviewing testament, for example, one from the Gemological Foundation of America (GIA), to guarantee straightforwardness and credibility. Trustworthy goldsmiths ought to continuously furnish you with this documentation.

4. Jewel Shape: Do you have any idea that lab precious stones can take different shapes? It's wise to pick a jewel shape that suits your own style and inclinations. Moderate ladies or individuals who need an exemplary look might lean toward a round-splendid. On the other hand, rare sweethearts could want a more classical cut, like an Asscher or marquise. The other most adored shapes are princess, emerald, pear, pad, and oval.

5. Metal Decision: A jewel is just important for your wedding band. While looking for this vital frill, consider the sort of metal utilized for the ring setting and band. Normal decisions incorporate white gold, yellow gold, platinum, or even eco-accommodating choices like reused metals. Every metal has a marginally unique appearance that can modify the ring's stylish. Rose and yellow gold have a rare vibe, while cool metals like platinum are viewed as more current. Moreover, the attributes of the metal can play into how simple the ring is to shape (in the event that you need a perplexing plan), its solidness, and its capacity to be resized.

6. Ring Configuration: Talking about molding your ring, you can specially craft lab jewel wedding bands to mirror your remarkable taste. Lab-developed precious stones can be set in different styles, from one-of-a-kind to the present day, and don't restrict you to only one plan. Take as much time as is needed to pick the ideal setting and band style for your ring, considering individual style, way of life, and financial plan.

7. Moral and Ecological Contemplations: Lab-developed precious stones are much of the time thought about as additional moral and harmless to the ecosystem decision, as they don't include mining and have a more modest carbon impression. You can likewise keep the the remainder of your ring eco-accommodating by pursuing eco-cognizant decisions, for example, breaking down one more piece of adornments for your ring setting and band or picking other reused materials.

8. Guarantee and Merchandise exchange: Utilizing a respectable gem dealer while buying a lab precious stone wedding band is significant. Regardless of whether it costs less, you're actually making a critical buy. Consequently, guarantee that the merchant gives a thorough guarantee and an unmistakable merchandise exchange, permitting you genuine serenity in the event of any issues. You may likewise need to check whether they offer resizing and normal upkeep.

9. Trustworthy Merchant: Buy from a respectable and laid-out vendor or gem specialist with a history of giving great lab-developed jewels and fantastic client care. Lab precious stones are new to the business yet due to acquiring ubiquity; there are more vendors. Investigate as needs be and pick one who has been offering lab jewels for some time and knows the intricate details.

Allow Us To Make Your Lab Precious Stone Shopping Simple

Lab-developed jewels offer a convincing option in contrast to regular precious stones, joining moderation, moral contemplations, and customization choices. You can pursue a very educated decision by considering your financial plan, the Four Cs, confirmation, precious stone shape, metal decision, ring plan, moral elements, guarantee, and the vendor's standing. Clearness has long seen the magnificence of lab precious stones and offered them as a more natural and spending plan well-disposed choice. Whether arranging a commitment or praising an extraordinary event, lab-developed precious stones give a splendid and capable decision for your precious stone gem needs.

[diamond-jewellery-blog]

Demystifying Solitaire Diamonds: Elegance, Rarity, and Timeless Beauty

Solitaire diamonds have long held a special place in the world of jewelry, celebrated for their singular allure and timeless elegance. In this article, we delve into the characteristics that define solitaire diamonds and answer common questions surrounding their authenticity, pricing, and significance.

Is a Solitaire Diamond a Real Diamond? Yes, a solitaire diamond is indeed a real diamond. The term "solitaire" refers to a single, standalone diamond set in a piece of jewelry. These diamonds are genuine and typically showcase remarkable quality, emphasizing their individual beauty without distractions from other gemstones.

Is a Solitaire Diamond More Expensive? Solitaire diamonds are often perceived as more expensive due to their focus on quality and the singular nature of the gem. The cost is influenced by factors like carat weight, cut, color, and clarity. While solitaire settings can be pricier, they emphasize the unique brilliance and purity of the featured diamond, making them a sought-after choice for those seeking a classic and luxurious piece.

What Means Diamond Solitaire? The term "diamond solitaire" refers to a single diamond set prominently in a piece of jewelry, typically a ring. The word "solitaire" itself is derived from the French word meaning "alone" or "single," highlighting the central position of the diamond in the design. This style accentuates the inherent beauty and brilliance of the individual gem.

How Much Is a 1 Carat Solitaire Worth? The value of a 1-carat solitaire diamond varies based on the "Four Cs" – cut, color, clarity, and carat weight. Generally, a 1-carat solitaire, especially if well-cut and of higher quality, commands a higher price. Factors like the metal used in the setting and the overall craftsmanship of the jewelry piece also contribute to its overall worth.

Conclusion: Solitaire diamonds stand as enduring symbols of sophistication and grace. Whether chosen for engagement rings, necklaces, or earrings, these singular gems captivate with their simplicity and singular focus on the beauty of the individual diamond. Understanding the nuances of solitaire diamonds adds to the appreciation of their timeless allure.

[mldrgrl]

Broken Things 12/24

by: mldrgrl Rating: varies by chapter, rated R overall See Chapter 1 for summary and notes

Fort Worth is not the city that Boston is, but it’s working it’s way up.  It’s bustling and busy and the first time he’d taken Jesse and Jimmy with him, Mulder had feared he may lose the brothers to the excitement of it all.  He was pleased to find out the pair were more like him and preferred a slower pace and less crowds.  He doesn’t have to worry about them gambling or picking fights or looking for any other kind of trouble.

The demonstration they give and the training they provide to the postal service is a success.  The horses are installed in their new home and position as a delivery team and Mulder will be bringing eight horses back to the ranch to train as a set of two teams.  He celebrates the job well done by giving Jesse and Jimmy an early bonus and sending the two off to do some sightseeing.  Deciding he’d like to do a bit of shopping himself, he sets out from their hotel to the city center.

For the last few weeks, Mulder has been making a mental list of the things he’d like to get for Katherine.  He doesn’t care if she protests, he has a mind to spoil her, and she’ll just have to get accustomed to being spoiled.  His first stop is a book shop where he inquires after the most current science journals and texts.  While browsing the bookshelves, he also finds a copy of The Taming of the Shrew and purchases it for a laugh.

The next stop he makes is to a rather impressive three-story building called The Martin-Brown Co.  It advertises clothing, dry goods, and other notions, which is exactly what he’s after.  He buys ten yards of a wool fabric dyed a shade of blue that reminds him of her eyes, two pairs of boots using a template he secretly traced of Katherine’s shoes for size, several pairs of stockings, a new shawl, an overcoat, and the valise he promised.  Everything is to be wrapped and sent to his hotel.

The last stop he makes is to a jeweler.  He would give Katherine his mother’s ring, were it not for the fact that it currently resides in a safe deposit box in Boston.  Even if it were in his possession, he has a feeling that Katherine would consider it too lavish and perhaps she would be right.  Though beautifully made with several square-cut diamonds, a working ranch would not be the best place to wear such a ring.

He wants to get something to symbolize the marriage though, not just for her, but for himself.  A simple gold band is easy enough to find for his own finger, but it’s tougher to pick just the right ring for his wife.  A very nice salesman assists him in trying to find the perfect piece.

“I want it to be nice,” he tells the associate.  “She’d probably like something plain, but I still think it should at least have a stone in it.  I also don’t want her to fret over it getting in the way of the household chores.”

“I think I can help you with that,” the man says.  He pulls out a tray of nice-looking bands, diamonds of various shapes and sizes twinkling from all of them, but still none of them seem quite right.

He looks through four trays of rings and has it narrowed between a gold band with a row of very small diamonds and pearls or a silver band with three one carat diamonds, when another ring catches his eye.

“What’s that stone?” he asks the clerk.

“That’s a sapphire.  Would you like to see it?”

“Yes.”

The man takes the ring of the tray and hands it to Mulder.  He inspects it carefully.  It’s a gold band with three stones inset in a row of small squares, like patchwork almost.  The middle stone is the sapphire, flanked on either side by two diamonds.  

“What do you call this design?” Mulder asks.

“In the middle where the sapphire sits is called a pinched square mount.  On either side of that is what’s called a diamond mount on a geometric plaque.  On the shoulder here you’ll see there’s criss-cross etching.”

“I think this might be the one.”

“An excellent choice.”

“Let me just...let me just look at them one last time and give me a minute to consider.”

“Take your time, Sir.”

Mulder puts the ring down and looks over the trays again, focusing on the three main contenders.  He has doubts about the three diamonds and so just looks to the sapphire and the diamonds and pearls.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to a different ring that he seems to have missed in his earlier inspection, focused as he was on finding the perfect stone.  “Are those hands?  Holding a heart?”

“Yes, Sir.  It’s a claddagh ring.  It’s Irish.”

“Irish?”

“Yes, I can’t say I know the origins, but you’ll note the inside is stamped with what this type of ring is meant to symbolize.”

Mulder turns the ring around to read the inscription.  “Love.  Friendship.  Loyalty.”

“We have this one as well, if that doesn’t suit you.”  The clerk pulls out yet another tray and the same design of the ring Mulder is holding is etched into the interior of the band with loops around the band that look like infinity rings.

Mulder is torn.  He’s leaning towards the sapphire because the stone is gorgeous, but this claddagh ring seems more suitable, even if it’s not as elegant or flashy.  He’s not the one that will be wearing the ring though, Katherine is.  And he tries to think about it from her perspective.  He could probably buy three or four of these claddagh rings for the same price as the sapphire, but the value of the simpler ring feels immeasurably greater.

“That’s the one I want,” Mulder tells the clerk, nodding to the etched silver claddagh ring the man is holding.

“Very well.”

“And the gold band as well.  What type of boxes do you have?”

“Right this way.”

Mulder follows the clerk to the other side of the store where there is a case of boxes on display.  He selects a black box, oval-shaped, made of leather.  There’s a small gold latch at the front and a gilded border on the top of the case.  The interior is standard velvet and satin.

After Mulder leaves the jewelry store he heads back to the hotel.  The desk clerk informs him his packages have arrived and been taken to his room.  He closes himself in the room and looks at the items that are neatly placed onto his bed.  He takes the ring box out of his pocket and opens it up to look at it.

Diana comes to mind.  All these items he’s purchased would seem paltry to her.  He was always happy to lavish her back when they were courting, but she was never satisfied.  There was no such thing as too much for Diana and nothing was ever good enough.  Katherine is different and he needs to remember that.  He fears that Katherine will see all of this and be cross with him.  The perfect simplicity of the ring in his hand makes him realize that there is more to loving someone than purchasing trinkets.

Money is no object to him.  The ranch does well, but it’s not the source of his income, it’s the source of his joy and passion.  He doesn’t know with absolute certainty, but from what he does know of her, he feels that Katherine gets her joy from learning new things and from stimulating conversation.  Out of all the items packaged up on his bed, what she will probably be the most grateful for are the four issues of a magazine called Science: An Illustrated Journal and one called The Popular Science Monthly.

The ring and the books aside, he tells himself that the items he’s purchased are practical.  He hasn’t gotten anything she can’t use and what wouldn’t be considered unnecessary, but that’s not really the point.  

Well, he isn’t going to take the items back, so he packs each one up into the new valise and thinks that maybe it’s a good thing that at the very least, everything fits nicely into the travel bag.  He keeps her ring in his pocket though, along with the little pouch that holds his band.  He doesn’t want to wear his quite yet.  Not until she can put it on his finger for him.

↭

Katherine is setting out items onto the table in the kitchen to make a pie.  Mulder and Jesse and Jimmy are due back the next day and she’d like to have something nice to welcome them home with.  She’s just sat down to start peeling apples when she hears Queenie bark.

Over the last month, she’s grown accustomed to the sounds of the ranch, and in particular, the way that Queenie herds her flock of sheep.  Her bark is usually quick and no-nonsense.  This bark that she hears now raises the hairs at the back of her neck.  This bark is more like a snarl.  A warning.

Katherine jumps up from the table and hurries to the back door.  She sees Queenie by the pens, crouched low and backing away from something slowly.  The dog growls and snaps as she lunges forward and then retreats again.  Initially, Katherine can’t spot the threat, but then she sees it, black as midnight and sleek, slinking around the side of the corner pen with caution, but without hesitation.  She’s heard there were panthers in these parts, but never seen one.

Melvin is running from the bunkhouse, waving his arms and hollering.  Richard is behind him with a pistol.  She doesn’t spot Trevor, but now is the time that he’s usually watering the animals so he must be out there somewhere, trapped where he is.

“My God,” Katherine whispers before turning and running to the other side of the dogtrot.

There are four rifles hung on pegs in the middle of the wall and a cartridge belt hanging alongside them.  Mulder had told her before not to touch the firearms.  They’re always loaded, he’d said, just in case.  Leave them be.  Of course, he probably assumed she had no idea how to use one.  She grabs the cartridge belt and swings it over her left shoulder and then pulls down one of the rifles and holds it crosswise against her stomach and pointed to the ground as she runs back to the door, cocking the lever as she goes.

Without much thought beyond eliminating the threat, Katherine stands positioned in the doorway, a good fifty to sixty yards from the pens.  Melvin is whistling and hooting, trying to get the enormous cat’s attention.  All the animals are agitated.  The goats and sheep are bleating and the hogs are grunting.  The chicks are fluttering in the coop and clucking like crazy.

“Stay back!” Melvin yells at her.

“Don’t move,” she yells back, raising the butt of the rifle to her shoulder.  She cocks her head and closes her right eye, lining the cat up in her sights.  She���s not in a good position to shoot to kill, but she can definitely incapacitate if she aims right.

She has to do it quick.  The panther is stalking Queenie quietly, not at all threatened by the barking dog.  It’s not close enough to lunge, but it’s getting there.  “God, help me,” Katherine mutters, and then cocks the hammer and squeezes the trigger.  The recoil causes the butt to slam into her shoulder, as anticipated.  She winces, but doesn’t take her eyes off the panther.  It screams seconds after the discharge, baring its teeth as one of its front arms collapses.  She hit it in the shoulder, just as she’d aimed to.

There’s no time to waste.  She reaches up and grabs a cartridge off the belt over her shoulder and shoves it into the ejection port.  It’s cocked and reloaded in under ten seconds, but it feels like eternity.  The panther is now on the defensive, limping backwards and screeching as Queenie barks and takes small lunges towards it.  A frothy and red saliva starts to drip from its mouth.

Katherine keeps the rifle at her shoulder and the panther in her sights as she steps sideways to get behind Queenie.  She prays as she moves that the dog keeps its distance and she prays that the panther doesn’t charge forward with a surge of adrenaline.  Worst case scenario, she shoots the dog before the panther.  Best case scenario, she only has to kill one living creature today.

Queenie snaps viscously at the injured panther and it hisses in response.  As it raises its head and bares its teeth, Katherine fires once more, hitting it in the jugular.  The panther goes down without a whimper.  Queenie is still barking and snapping as Katherine lowers the gun.  She walks to the dog and pulls her back by the scruff to hold her in place.

Melvin comes running.  He’s puffing and sweating by the time he reaches her and grabs hold of Queenie as well as the dog twists and yelps to be set free.  Richard walks to the panther and crouches low over it, inspecting it from all angles.

“Where’s Trevor?” Katherine asks.

“I ain’t seen him.”

“Trevor!” Katherine calls.

“Go on,” Melvin says.  “I got Queenie.”

Katherine stands and scans the pens.  The animals are still agitated, running to and fro and loudly voicing their anxiety.  She spots Trevor crouched low behind the hog trough, trembling.  She sets the rifle up against the fence and climbs over into the hog pen and kneels down beside Trevor.  It’s obvious he’s wet himself and she puts a hand on his back to soothe him.

“It’s alright,” she tells him.  “It’s over.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” he tells her.  His voice is shaking right along with the rest of him.

“You did exactly as you were supposed to do, you kept yourself safe.”

“I saw him come down from that hill back yonder and I tried hollerin’, but nothing came out.  And then Queenie started kicking up a fuss and all I could think was that I got to hide.”

“You did good, Trevor.  Queenie’s worked up, but she’s alright.  Who knows what that panther would’ve done if it had spotted you.”

“You shot ‘em.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Where’d you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father taught me, when I was small.”

“I ain’t ever had a father.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

“You wasn’t scared?”

“I was terribly scared.”

“But, you didn’t look scared.”

“I had the advantage of being near to the rifles, knowing they were loaded, and knowing how to shoot.  If I had been in your position, I would have done exactly as you did.”

“My hands don’t want to seem to quit shakin’.”

“That’s alright, it’ll stop soon enough.  Let’s get you up and you run on to the bunkhouse and clean yourself up, alright?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“You bring your clothes on over to the laundry basket when you’re done and I’ll get a load done tonight.”

“Sorry to be so much trouble.”

“No trouble at all, sweetheart.”

Katherine helps Trevor stand and keeps a hand on his back.  He’s taller than her by about half a foot, but he seems small in this moment.  He is careful climbing the fence, still weak with fear.  She climbs over after him and takes up the rifle.  The cartridge belt is laying in the dirt.  She hadn’t noticed it had slipped from her shoulder.  She picks that up as well and waits until Trevor has started to weave his way to the bunkhouse to go over to where Melvin and Richard are hovering over the dead panther.

“I put Queenie up in the barn and give her some hamburger,” Melvin says.  “She’ll calm herself in due time.”

“When this story gets told,” Katherine says, trying to sound as serious and authoritative as she can.  “I’d like you to please do me a favor and make it very clear that Trevor was trapped where he was.  I know how boys are and the last thing Trevor needs is to be shamed for being afraid of a panther.”

“I’ll see to it,” Melvin says.

“We best get rid of the carcass before any scavengers come sniffing around,” Richard says.

“I’m going to see about the pie I was fixing.”  She turns to walk away and then stops.  “I take no pride or glory in killing that panther.  I did what had to be done.”

“You done good,” Melvin tells her.  

Katherine nods and returns to the house.  She dusts off the cartridge belt and hangs it back on the nail beside the rifles.  She loads a cartridge into the chamber, leaves it half-cocked, and puts it back in its place.  

[timelordthirteen]

Desperate Souls 1/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn't long before they both realize they've made a deal they didn't understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: Belle makes a depressing discovery and considers her options.

Notes: OKAY. Here we go. Chapter 2 is almost done, but everything was getting stupid long and in spite of my plan I had to break it up. The entire story is all fully outlined now, but I make zero promises about my ability to keep it updated because I'm the worst. In total it will be anywhere from 10 to 15 chapters.

[AO3]

Belle stared at the paper in her hands.

$37.23

That was all that was left in the account. She staggered and then dropped down onto the old sofa. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her face felt hot, and her vision blurred. The page fluttered away, sliding over the coffee table to fall off the edge and onto the floor on the other side. The corner of the paper fluttered in the air from a heating vent in the floor, and she watched it for a long moment before her head dropped to her hands, palms pressed to her face as tears stung her eyes.

Her heart, her hopes, her money; Garrett Gaston had taken everything.

Well, almost everything. Apparently, she still had thirty-seven fucking dollars and change left. She shook her head and laid back against the cushions, breathing slowly. Calming down was step one, step two was figuring out a logical plan to fix things. Most of the regular monthly bills: car payment, cell phone, and utilities, had already been deducted before Garrett had a chance to clean out their shared account. That left whatever was on the credit card and the rent to pay. She let out a short, humorless laugh, and sat up. There wasn’t much on her Visa, some books she ordered from Amazon last month and her Netflix subscription. Even if there was more she could get away with making minimum payments if she had to and eat the interest until she got back on her feet. The rent was a whole other story.

Mr. Gold didn’t do minimum payments, but he did do late fees and interest.

There was also her promise to her father. Moe French was always just barely making ends meet, and she had agreed to loan him some money to buy extra stock for the flower shop ahead of Valentine’s Day, something she had done last year as well. That holiday always put the shop in the black for a while, and she hadn’t been concerned that she wouldn’t get her money back. Now she was wondering if she would also need a loan of some kind just to keep a roof over her head.

Maybe she’d even have to move back in with her father.

Belle blinked, letting the tears roll down her cheeks, leaving trails through her makeup. Living with Moe was not an option, not if she wanted to maintain any semblance of a relationship with him, which left her with few choices. She pushed to her feet, wiping at her face with her hand as she crossed the small living room to pick up the bank statement. Her eyes immediately went to the top of the page.

Beginning balance…$4,737.23

The statement crumpled in her hand, her fingers squeezing it into a tight ball, digging the sharp edges of the folded paper into her palm before she spun on her heel and threw it across the space. It smacked against the door to the bathroom. She followed it up by yanking the ring off her left hand and flinging it in the same direction. It made a satisfying ping as it careened off the doorknob and rattled to the floor.

Rage fueled her as she stomped through the apartment, snatching up the handful of things her now very ex-fiance had left behind before he fucked off to Mexico with a woman who wasn’t her, taking all of her money with him. She felt like an idiot for agreeing to sign Garrett onto her account before they were married, but in the moment it had made sense to pool their funds. They were starting their new life together, supposedly, and he made a point of saying he wanted to help pay for the wedding.

Belle and her father didn’t have much, and from the outside it seemed like Garrett was far better off financially. He had a decent job selling insurance, a nice car, nice clothes, and his parents were very well off real estate agents in Boston. Or at least that was what he had told her. She had never met them, and that, combined with the fact that he had yet to make any deposits into their now shared account, told her all she needed to know. Garrett Gaston was a lying asshole, and for all she knew his parents could be dead or have disowned him. It was clear he had used her, though she wasn’t sure the year long charade was worth the four thousand-seven hundred dollars he’d stolen from her.

She let out a ragged breath and ran her hands through her hair. A hooded sweatshirt with a rip in the front pocket, a paint splattered t-shirt, a pair of work boots that had seen better days, a phone charger, and a mismatched pair of socks lay in a pile on the sofa. Everything else he’d taken with him, including half the hangers in the closet. He must have crammed it all into the same large suitcase and duffle bag he’d used to move in just three months ago. She wondered if he’d had it all planned before then, or if it was a spur of the moment decision. When had he met this other woman? Had he cared about her at all, ever?

Belle sniffed loudly and rubbed her nose. She refused to shed any more tears over Garrett, and looked around the room for anything she might have missed. A thought hit her then, and she hurried into the kitchen, took one of the chairs from the small table by the window, and used it to reach up on top of the fridge. Her heart sank when she felt nothing but dust. He’d even taken her emergency fund, mostly made up of spare change and small bills shoved into an old jar. She wasn’t sure how much was in it, but it had to be a couple hundred dollars. That brought the total to almost five thousand.

Deflated and exhausted, she climbed down off the chair, and placed it back at the table. Then she walked back into the living room and briefly contemplated setting Garrett’s things on fire. There was a burn barrel in her father’s backyard that he used for yard waste. Maybe she could invite Ruby and Ashely over for a bonfire, and roast marshmallows that they imagined were ex-boyfriends.

That thought made her smile, but a few seconds later, she sighed and reluctantly went to pick up the bank statement and engagement ring. Being angry might make her feel better temporarily, but it wouldn’t solve any of her current problems. Unfortunately, neither would anything Garrett left behind, which were clearly items he no longer cared about and which had no value. At least she’d been wearing the ring when he packed up and left, or he likely would have taken that as well.

She went into the bedroom and sank down on the end of the bed. The mattress dipped and the frame creaked, yet another reminder of her less than stellar financial state. A couple of weeks ago, they’d talked about getting new furniture after they were married, in particular, a bed, and Belle rolled her eyes at the memory. She put the engagement ring back in its box on her dresser, and decided to take a shower. As the hot water ran down over her neck and shoulders, she made a mental list of what she needed to do, and felt calmer after she was done.

After drying off and changing into some comfortable clothes, she shoved Garrett’s belongings into a trash bag and set it by the door to take down to the dumpster in the morning. Then she sat down with the little notebook she kept in her purse and a pen, and started writing out her expenses for the next month. By the time she was done, and after considering the amount of her usual paycheck, the total she would at the end of next month was...fifty four dollars.

She fell back against the sofa and blew out a breath. There was no way to make the math come out any better. Rent included the usual utilities, but there was food, her cellphone, car insurance, and those incidental costs of existing like laundry detergent and toilet paper and probably a hundred things she’d end up running out of next week. It felt like life was out to spite her. The cushion she had worked so hard to build up was gone, as was the paycheck that had just deposited. Garrett probably waited until Thursday just for that reason, to squeeze just a little bit more out of her and make her ruin complete.

She got up and went back into the bedroom. The ring box seemed to be mocking her as she reached for it, and she flipped it open and scowled down at the princess cut diamond. It was about one carat in size, flanked by two smaller diamonds, which gave the ring a total weight of about one and half carats. It was huge as far as engagement rings went, and she supposed that was more of Garrett showing off money he didn’t actually have. The truth was she didn’t care for it at all, the squared off princess cut being her least favorite, and the set of three gems gave it a bulk and gaudiness that wasn’t her style. But it was what he had picked out and proposed with, and because of that she made herself like it. The band was rose gold, her favorite, which was at least one thing he managed to remember about her.

Belle snapped the box shut and shook her head. The ring had to be worth something, and though there was only one place in town she could take it she was confident that Mr. Gold would give her a fair price. He had always been fair, even if he often came off as cold and eccentric. She’d never had a problem with Gold, though she didn’t really know him that well either. A few times she had gone out of her way to try to be nice and talk to him, but he seemed annoyed and eventually she gave up. She was friendly and polite when she saw him, not just because he was her landlord, or because we wielded some strange power over most of the citizens of Storybrooke, but because she sensed he was someone who didn’t have a lot of kindness in his life.

She set the ring down and yanked open the bottom dresser drawer. Inside was a small collection of what could only be described as ugly Christmas sweaters, leftover from the annual holiday parties that Granny would throw at the diner. Those were taken out and set aside. Beneath them was something that made Belle frown all over again, a pile of silk and lace, with a few price tags caught up on each other. It was the pile of lingerie that she’d been reserving for her wedding and honeymoon.

The sting of tears made her blink and she felt her earlier anger bubbling up again. She knelt down in front of the drawer and pulled all of it out, throwing it behind her on the bed. Then she set about separating it, untangling tags and eye hooks, and pairing up the things that went together. She hadn’t worn any of it yet, but the items with tags had been purchased too long ago to return, never mind that she had probably thrown out the receipts weeks ago. It wasn’t designer stuff or anything, but it had to be worth something, so she folded it all into a neat stack and placed it on top of the dresser. Then she set the ring box on top and resolved to take all of it to Gold’s shop tomorrow.

None of it would be missed.

[all1e23]

Honey & Whiskey [Pt.1]

Pairings: Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Summary:   Falling was sweeter than honey and warm as whiskey.

Warnings: None for this chapter. Typical A/B/O dynamics.

A/N:  I know I am your dealer for soft Bucky but I’m trying out some new product. Soft Billy Russo. Just take a little taste. I promise It’s worth it. This is largely a self-indulgent fic and also for my beautiful beta @moonbeambucky​​. If you like it write me a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me.

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

You heard his car in the driveway before you caught the sound of the front door. This probably wasn’t the way to handle something like this. Prominent families didn’t behave like this. They didn’t cause a scene, and they certainly didn’t question a match this good. It was hard enough to find an Alpha that came from a good family, but one who wasn’t a complete knothead and genuinely cared for you? That was next to impossible. You managed to find that one in a million, and here you were pulling a stunt like this.

When you were a little girl, you read stories about the princess finding her prince, being saved from the tower, and living happily ever after in a big castle. So, you waited for your very own to come. You waited and waited by your window, but your prince never showed. You stayed locked in your tower with no sign of a savior. As you became older, you realized you didn’t want to be rescued, taken from one dungeon, and moved to another. You could take care of yourself without an Alpha there to defend your heart and fight the evil queen on your behalf.

Turned out you could handle her on all on your own.

Then you met James one evening at a friend’s wedding. He was sweet. Dark hair, blue eyes, and a charming crooked smile. He offered to buy you a drink and didn’t flinch when you reciprocated with the second. It was easy with James right from the start, and your parents were thrilled. They were simply over the moon. He came from a long line of senators, and his family were members at the club where your father plays golf. Everything was perfect. It was all working out the way it was supposed to, and in one short week, you would be married and bonded to James.

In the two years you’ve spent together, James has done everything he could to make you happy, not once has he abused his authority over you or made you feel as if you were less than him as his Omega. James has never given you a reason to fear him. Everything on the surface was perfect, but if you looked close, the cracks were easy to spot. Your heart had never had cause to race when he was near, and you never did learn what it would feel like to go weak from his touch.

It was doubtful you would ever know what it would be like to tremble from the brush of your Alpha’s fingertips. The odds you would find that love in this lifetime were slim, but if you stayed where you were, there would be no chance.

“Uh, Y/n…’ James stopped in the doorway to your shared bedroom and looked fairly amused, albeit confused by your attire. “What’s going on? Isn’t this bad luck?”

You glanced down at your wedding dress and grimaced. It wasn’t that the dress wasn’t beautiful, it was. It wasn’t you, though. It was huge for starters. Your mother had insisted this was the one from the moment it graced your frame. The skirt was so large you weren’t sure you would make it into the limo Saturday morning, and the bodice and lace sleeves were covered in so many crystals it felt like you were carrying an extra thirty pounds of glitter. This wasn’t the dress you pictured when you spent your days playing princesses in your bedroom, and all of this felt wrong.

You looked back up at your fiance, who was by your side in an instant when he saw fresh tears falling down your cheeks. James quickly wiped them away with only his thumbs. No tender kisses brushed them away, his touch was gentle but not in a way that soothed the restlessness in your soul.

“Do you feel something seeing me in this? I mean, really feel something? Because I don’t feel anything when I put it on. I’ve been trying so hard to feel something, anything but... I don't."

James tossed his keys on the dresser and stuffed his hands in his pockets now that he realized what this was. It wasn’t a simple case of cold feet or some cute moment you were going to bring up at the rehearsal for a quick laugh during toasts. He didn’t look mad, he was disconcerted, and you couldn’t blame him for that.

You didn’t fully understand why yourself, so you couldn’t expect him to.

“Okay. What is this, baby? What’s going on?”

As good and kind as James was, it wasn’t there.

“I’m not in love, and I don’t think you are either.”

The confirmation you needed flashed in his eyes. He didn’t feel it either. You stepped forward and held your hands out for his. James placed his hands in your hands without any hesitation, his fingers tightened around yours the longer the silence stretched between you. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and when his eyes opened again, there was something different about them. They were filled with acceptance and a little bit of relief you knew he wouldn’t want you to see.

“I do love you, and I would take care of you,” James offered as if he was giving you one last opportunity to change your mind. One more chance to do the right thing.

You kissed his cheek and pulled your hand back from his hold, leaving the three-carat oval cut diamond resting in his palm. People lived that lie every day. Your parents, James’s parents, and you wouldn’t be surprised to find out it was the foundation on which most of the marriages you knew were born. Its prevalence among your social status was hefty and typical, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

It wasn't a lie you could spend the rest of your life telling.

“I know, but I want more than that. I want to feel it.”

-----------

“Okay, May. I am out of here,” You chirped. It had been a long, exhausting day. You worked a double shift after one of the other waitresses, an Omega, called out claiming she was in heat, but this was her third heat in four months. It was entirely possible that she was being truthful and not using her designation to get extra days off so she could play house with that Beta she’s been dating since Halloween. Maybe she was a medical marvel, and her heats really did come three times as often as every other Omega on the planet.

All you knew for certain? Your bed was calling your name, and you could not wait to get out of this diner.

“The rush seems to have died down, and I am dead on my feet, so I’m leaving before we get the late dinner crowd, and you beg me to stay.”

“Yeah, yeah. Always complaining,” May teased with a grin and a motherly gleam in her eye. “Take your cut from the tips, and then I want you to eat and get some sleep. You can come in for the dinner shift tomorrow.”

“You gonna clear that with Roger?”

May rolled her eyes at the mention of your boss; Alpha and every bit the knothead prick.

“I’ll deal with him. Don’t you worry about it.”

"Hey, Y/n.” You glanced at Karen, who had a taunting smirk making her pale cheeks flush, she was pointing to the far back of the diner with her order pad, and she mocked with a teasing grin, “Look who it is! Your boy arrived just in time to see you off."

Your eyes followed her bright purple pen, and your knees went weak the moment you laid eyes on him. You didn’t know he was coming tonight. It’s been four days since you last saw his pretty face (not that you were counting or anything!), and you hadn’t realized how much you missed him until that moment. The handsome, dark-haired Alpha was sitting at one of your usual tables and looked uneasy, his leg was bouncing up and down at a vigorous pace, his dark blue hoodie pulled up over his head, and he was wringing his hands together as he scanned the small diner for you -- what you hoped was for you anyway.

"Don't get any ideas about that, Alpha." May Parker huffed.

The older Omega was a little cynical from the cards life had dealt her, and from the second you showed up looking for a job, she took it upon herself to look after you the way a mother would. It wasn't as if your mother had any interest in your life at the moment, not after you embarrassed her and left a black smear on your family’s name. A mark didn’t suffice for the choices you made. Your actions affected everyone in the family, bled onto the very fabric your ancestors stitched together, and made a tear that thread and needle could never mend. Apparently, you should have married even though you weren’t in love and simply found a way to fall in love with James after vows and rings were exchanged.

At least May understood your choice, and you couldn’t blame her for the fire in her eyes and the ice in her touch when it comes to Alphas; life had not been kind to her. Despite losing her true mate at a young age, only to end up with a sad stand-in for the man she lost. He abused his designation and using it to control her and her son. It took years to rid herself of him, but she built a nice life without him. She obtained assistance from an Omega Shelter, went through therapy to break their bond, and even bought a place of her own. Even after all the good that has come over the last seven years, the clouded memories have left her jaded and wary.

"You need to find someone that will take care of you, and he's not it. You stay away from Billy Russo, you hear me? He's not a good Alpha. I’ve known him longer than you have.”

That was true. You’ve only been in the city for eight months and working at Sunrise Diner for seven. Billy was a customer long before you came around, but according to Karen, he would pick up an order to go, barely spoke to anyone, and never tried to get a table. May didn’t know him any better than you did. It wasn’t as if they had some long-standing relationship or history. You were grateful for the advice, but you could make your own judgments.

You’ve let someone else be your eyes and voice for far too long, and you weren’t about to allow yourself to repeat past mistakes.

Billy finally found you standing behind the counter, and the second your eyes locked his own lit up, his legs settled, and the smile on his face just about knocked you over. Your smile widened as you stared at each other for what felt like ages.

"Y/n, are you listening to me?” May snapped her fingers in front of your face, forcing your eyes to focus on her.  “He's trouble. Ex-marine with more issues than one person can handle."

You tossed your apron under the register in the black bin that held all the dirty smocks for the night. You glanced at your reflection in the silver napkin holder, resting in the order window and swore under your breath. Your hair’s frayed and sticking out every which way, and your lip gloss faded the first hour into your shift. It was too late to do anything about that now. Not with May watching your every move and Billy sitting so close, his eyes trained on you now that he found you.

Having Billy watch you fix your lipstick because he came in would be an embarrassment you wouldn’t survive.

"That's why he should have someone he can lean on. We are friends. I have a feeling he needs someone that won’t judge him for a past he can’t change.”

"Trouble,” May huffed. “You're asking for trouble."

You practically skipped over to the table Billy sat at. Same one as always. The booth at the far back of the bright restaurant where he had a view of the bathrooms and the front door. He always sat with his back against the wall, and every few minutes, his eyes wandered over to the exit door on his right. You didn’t know what happened, but you knew it was enough to keep him on edge at all times.

"Hey, Stranger."

Billy's near-black eyes looked brighter now that you’re near, and he gave you that toothy grin that made your stomach flip.

"Hey, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

Billy has called you that from the moment you met, you weren’t sure why, but it made your heart race every time it rolled off his tongue. You have to admit you didn’t hate the feeling.

"You haven't been in for a few days. I was starting to think the mac and cheese scared you off."

That wasn’t really true. Though, you did question the state of the mac and cheese on a regular basis. The way the noodles all stuck together in that round ball wasn’t natural. This was more about you than sticky elbow pasta goop. You were slightly worried that he may have started seeing an Omega and would no longer be coming by for these late-night visits. Not that it was any of your business. It’s not as if you’re bonded or even potential mates. You haven’t spent a moment with  Billy outside this diner. You had not an ounce of claim on him, and you certainly didn’t have a say in who he spent his days with -- or his nights.

Billy let his hood fall back, and he ran a hand over his buzzed hair. His scars were no longer as angry and red as they were when he first came in on that rainy Tuesday afternoon seven months ago. You can still recite every word he said to you that day like some silly school girl daydreaming about the cute boy in study hall. Some nights you did just that, on evenings when he didn’t come by or stayed far too late and left your heart aching for another ten minutes.

Scars or no, he was still the most handsome Alpha you had ever seen.  

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I, uh, it's been a tough few days is all, and I haven't had a second to come in."

You eyed him for a long minute, and you realized what he meant by a tough few days. More like it smacked you right in the face -- rut.

Did he share his rut with someone?

No. No, probably not.

Billy didn’t seem to give his trust freely, so you doubted he called a Service Center to help him through his rut. That didn't mean he didn't have an Omega in his life, one he trusted enough to share it with. It shouldn’t matter if he did, so why did you want to know so badly? It would be easier if you could simply scent him to find out. That’s what you wanted to do. You were aching to scent him right there in the middle of the damn diner in front of Karen, May, and anyone else that wanted to stare. You wanted to be sure there wasn’t a hint of another Omega anywhere near him, maybe leave a little bit of you on him.

What the hell was wrong with you?

You’ve never been this possessive before. Even with James, you never cared if he came home smelling like another Omega. Hell, you never gave it a thought. Billy wasn’t yours, and you needed to remember that.

"I’m glad you’re back. I missed you."

Billy tried to fight off his grin. He tried hard, but it still showed up brightly enough to make you simper. He must have liked that because his scent sweetened, and it was so thick it had your knees shaking. You stood up as straight as you could and locked your knees. Letting your legs give out over some handsome Alpha like a stereotypical Omega would be a shame you could never come back from.

"Is that right?" Billy drawled, smirking as he took in the tremble in your knees and the honey sugaring your scent.

"Yeah, you're my favorite customer,” you answered with a slight shrug. Billy chuckled and ducked his head to hide the pink spreading from his cheeks down his neck, but you caught the rosy hue regardless.

"Favorite." He recited the word as if he didn't like the way it tasted on his tongue like he was confused as to why you would use that word in association with him.

"Without question,” you assured him.

The hesitation in his eyes and confusion had your heart breaking. Someone along the way, recently or long ago, made him feel as though he wasn’t worthy of being someone’s favorite, of being that important to someone. The thought made your gut clench in the worst way. Billy was more than deserving of that title.

"So, I'm about to get off. My shift actually ended about ten minutes ago. Well, technically, my shift ended at two, not eight, but one of the girls is out making medical history, so here I am."

"Oh,” Billy murmured. He was disappointed, that was plain to see. The light in Billy’s eyes instantly faded, and he began to slide out of the booth. You had a feeling if he left now, he would end up picking tacos off the dollar menu at some fast-food chain, eating all alone back at his place. You couldn’t have that now, could you? Besides, friends have dinner together all the time. Isn’t that what Karen told you every time she had dinner with Frank?

Yes, friends could have dinner together, and it didn’t have to mean more than noodles and cheese.

”I can- I'll go eat somewhere else. I don’t want to keep you if you’re going home.”  

You rested your hand on his shoulder to keep him from sliding out past you and shook your head, still smiling down at him. "Oh, no, you don’t. Unless you want to leave, of course. Food here isn't great."

Billy looked up at you, and his eyes have gone dark again, but it wasn’t in the way you liked. He was struggling to figure out what he wanted to say. You could see the moment Billy gave in to whatever it was, he was wrestling with and confessed, “I don't come here for the food.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore you could hear it in your ears. No doubt, Billy could pick it up in your scent. You never considered buying suppressants until you met Billy Russo. Then again, there were a lot of things you never considered until you met him. You blew out a shaky breath, and your words came out in as a stuttering mess, "Then… w-why do you come h-here?"

Billy held your gaze but didn’t elaborate further. It was probably for the best. If he had said what you thought could be the reason you might have melted right there at his feet and would have been forced to quit your job citing irremediable humiliation.

"Okay, um, well, I maybe thought I could eat with you? I haven't eaten since this morning, and I've been working all day, so I’m starving."

Billy frowned at that, and he quickly pressed for more, "You haven't eaten all day? So, that means you worked all day without taking a break?”

"Yeah, it happens. Some days it's really busy, and I don't get a second. Roger, our boss, he’s not great at following labor laws. If things get busy like they were today, there is no way he’s letting me take a break.”

If it was possible, Billy’s eyes blackened, and his normal candied scent turned sour. It was a subtle change to the whiskey and brown sugar scent you’ve come to know. He wasn’t on blockers, nor were you, it made his feelings easy to read. You weren’t sure he liked that fact at the moment. The scrunch of his nose and the wrinkle in his brow said he was trying to control his feelings to keep them hidden from you, or maybe he was attempting to understand whatever feeling was jumbled in his head.

“I don’t-- I don’t like that. You should be getting breaks so you can eat. You have to eat.”

You didn’t like it either, but there was little you could do. You had no way to prove that Roger refused to let you take breaks, and it wasn’t like he said he would fire you if you went on break. It only was heavily implied, and he knew when to use an Alpha command, with the tiniest drop in his voice, he had Omegas scampering to do as he wished. Thankfully, you have yet to be on the receiving end, and you had no intention of experiencing it. You needed this job whether or not Billy approved of your break schedule. You couldn’t do anything about Roger or your schedule, but you might be able to fix Billy’s spoiled mood and catch another glimpse of his pretty smile.

"How about you feed me then?" You suggested with a grin.

Billy’s frown quickly faded into a crooked smirk, a gentle chuckle followed, and everything turned sweeter. Whenever Billy was smiling, there was a little more sugar and a little less whiskey floating nearby, and it often left your head spinning for days after. You’ve never been one to fall for a sugar rush over a whiskey high -- until now.

"Okay, Sunshine. I can do that. Do you want to eat here or somewhere else?"

"Where are you most comfortable?"

"Where am I most comfortable…” Billy repeated the question, brows furrowed in thought, and he responded without thinking, “I’m most comfortable when I’m with you."

Billy quickly realized that was not what you meant when he looked up to see your eyes widen.  He cleared his throat and sat up straighter as he tacked on an addendum, hoping you would ignore his first admission. "Nowhere that’s loud. Or, um, crowded. I’m not great in large rowdy groups. I need a place I can sit like this. My back against the wall and know my exits."

You knew that already and now you were mad at yourself for making him admit it out loud, but you had to confess not all of his revelation sounded so bad.

"I'll tell you what I live right around the corner. How about you come over, and I'll make you dinner?"

Inviting an Alpha you barely knew back to your place wasn’t the smartest thing you’ve done. Everyone knows, Omegas at least, you never tell an Alpha your address until you’re courting, and you know what kind you’re dealing with. You couldn’t explain why but your heart and your head were telling you to trust him and when they agree on something you listen.

“You want me to come back to your apartment?”

Billy seemed to be questioning your judgment, but nothing felt wrong about having Billy in your home.

“Only if it will make you feel more comfortable. If not, I know a pizza place a few blocks away, but we will have to catch a cab.”

You truly didn’t mind either way as long as Billy was comfortable. He took a few thoughtful seconds before he nodded. “Your place is okay. If you’re sure, you want me to know where you live.”

You grinned and stepped back so he could stand. “Let me grab my purse, and I’ll meet you by the door, okay?”

Billy didn’t have a chance to answer because you were bounding off towards the counter and the group of nosy Omegas watching you both with interest. Billy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, watching you share a few hushed whispers with the older woman behind the register.

“You’re leaving together? Y/n, this is not a good idea. Why can’t you stay here together where we keep an eye on you? It would be safer that way.”

“I said I’m fine. I don’t need you to look after me just because I’m an Omega. I can handle myself, and I can handle Billy.”

“He’s not what you think. I only want you to be careful.”  

You jerked your jacket out from under the counter and slipped your arms into the black puffy arms. You were already done with this. She didn’t know Billy any better than you did. Maybe she saw some things, or he came off like a typical asshole Alpha once when they first met, but the only conversation they have had revolved around grilled cheese sandwiches and you. You stopped in front of May, and you couldn’t keep the ice out of your voice even if you had wanted to. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe he’s not what you think? I’ll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, May.”

Billy glanced over your shoulder and back at you as you approached. “Everything alright over there?”

“Oh, you know.” You shrugged as you stepped out the door Billy was holding open for you. “Co-worker drama.”

There were tiny bits of moonlight shining down on the sidewalk next to you. It was awkward at first. This wasn’t your normal dynamic. Billy came in and ordered the same grilled cheese and fries every night; not that you could blame him for that, it was probably the only edible thing on the menu. You would make some cute comment about melted cheese and Billy would give you that smile that set skin on fire, he left a tip that was always triple the cost of the tiny sandwich and promised to see you real soon. You knew the risks that came with what you were doing. You are breaking the first rule they teach you in Orientation class, but you didn’t care, and it didn’t scare you.

Billy didn’t scare you.

“You know you really shouldn’t invite Alphas you don’t know back to your apartment. It’s not safe. I could be anyone. I could be some asshole Alpha using that sweetness in your heart to take advantage of you.”

Maybe that was the thing that should scare you -- your blind trust for an Alpha you barely knew.

“No, you’re not, Billy.”

“Yeah? How do you know that, Sunshine?”

Billy was teasing you, the mile-wide grin on his face told you so. You shook your head and matched his smile. The answer was pretty simple, really. It was the one thing missing with James. You felt the tension in your shoulders lift, and you told him the only thing about tonight that mattered.  

“I can feel it.”

Masterlist // Part 2

[iotaku21]

Should Get 14K Gold  Earrings?

Did you recently are able  to sell your diamonds and were disappointed in exactly where you were quoted?  Think it or not, this occurs many individuals. While it may be frustrating,  determining how much a diamond is worth depends on much through just its  size. Two similar sized diamonds could possibly be sitting definitely one  another and be worth two totally different prices.    You must also consider the carat of diamond. Diamonds are measured in carats.  But the weight of diamond stud earrings is stated in TCW which stands for  total carat weight. Generally the diamonds used inside earrings are of lower  quality. The clarity of diamond proceed earrings is not as better as the  diamond which usually set in pendants and rings. Nevertheless, you must  undertake your earring as consider care of one's other fine jewelry. You must  clean your diamond stud earring with commercial cleaning product could be  produced particularly the diamonds. You can also use ultrasonic jewellery  cleaners to decontaminate your diamond  jewellery wholesale.    The Diamond engagement ring practice back again to the 13th century Europe. A  diamond ring was gifted to a woman as a promise of marriage, and even a  signal to every one of that she was "spoken for." However, it isn't  until the 19th century that common took on a life within the. The idea of an  diamond jewellery wholesalers engagement ring was fully adopted in your  1930's, now approximately 80% of brides sport various the diamond engagement  ring.    Dating in order to ancient Egyptian times, workouts customary for your woman  to wear her diamond engagement ring on the left hand ring fingers. Some  believe it is really because there is alleged to turn into a vein globe left  hand, ring finger that leads directly for the heart. While some believe  occasion due to the fact how the heart sits to the left side of the breast  tissue. Whatever the belief, habits arose, traditions developed and customs  evolved. Recently, however, variations have taken shape. Brides are starting  to put incredibly spin on things, and make their rings more personal and  substantive. Today's bride is a strong woman who likes to specific her own  personal style that will create her own meanings.    If your diamond jewelry requires a stronger cleaning, the utilization of  ammonia and water may suffice. Utilizing a small half and half solution of  ammonia and water, soak your diamond  jewellery wholesalers for about 30 instants. After 30 minutes, eliminate them from the  answer and gently brush the items accordingly. After brushing the item, send  it back to the bowl. Repeat for the following jewelry thing. After all the  items have been cleaned and returned into the solution, swish them around for  a few seconds then remove the kids. Proceed to rinse and dry as outlined the  actual world previous part. An alternative to mixing solutions yourself to  clean your jewelry, would be to purchase an already made jewelry cleaning  remedy. This could be in the form of a solution kit as well as machine, in  order to clean accessory.    14. Diamond Cartage - The bigger the diamond the higher the percentage rate.  1 Carat = 200mg or 100 points/cents. Dictate the diamonds price, Clarity,  Cut, Cartage & Color or shade.    Buying necklaces is a craze to remedy people who enjoy to collect these  valuables. For most females, designer diamond jewelry is a memory. Thus, they  a new unique looking set on every special day as a mark of remembrance.

[eyes0ny0u]

Pastel Mafia

@quagmireisadora finished Chapter 2 - FINALLY! TT ^ TT

CHAPTER 1: A ROUGH DAY

CHAPTER 2: WHEN THE GOING GETS ROUGH

Kibum sighed as he entered his apartment. Leaning against the door as he took off his shoes. He glanced at the microwave clock he could see from where he stood: 2:18 am. He's got maybe three hours before he has to get up for his part-time job at Albert's, a fancy bakery in the upper east side, at the opposite end of town. He would love nothing better than to sleep in tomorrow, but Albert's paid the best out of all his part-time jobs, and he got tips. 

Right now, he needed all the tips and extra hours he can get. His last roommate had bailed on him, leaving him with an entire two-bedroom apartment to pay. He had begged his landlord to let him pay for his half of the apartment and will get him the rest later.

Kibum remembered the call from St. John's collection department, he still owed them a portion of last month's installment. His fist clenched at the embarrassment of admitting to a total stranger he didn't even have five dollars to his name. His last one disappeared when he lost his wallet.

Kibum trudged to the tiny kitchen and pulled out the leftover Chinese from his bag, thankful that the shift manager had let him take home whatever portions were left. He popped the take out carton into the microwave and looked around his apartment, with its peeling paint and cold air - he had barely turned on the heater since winter began. He was sleeping with thick clothes on, the thermostat just above '5' at the dial. 

Kibum's eyes landed on the syllabus stuck to the fridge. The tears exhaustion couldn't squeeze from him poured at the thought that he will have to stop school. 

 God, he was tired. 

 So tired - but life didn't care. 

 Kibum wiped his cheeks. Squaring his shoulders as he pulled the warmed up Chinese and dug in. No use in indulging his tears. He didn't have enough food to drown his feelings.

  - O -  

 "Carlos Amarillo at 57, was confirmed to have passed away by his son, Gian Amarillo today. No details were given to what caused the business tycoon's sudden death. Amarillo, who was the head of the Amarillo Group conglomerate, was a noted businessman and humanitarian in the area -," Jinki tuned out the late night news, lips tightening at the praises. 

 "What a bunch of hypocrites," Taemin sneered at the TV. "Not a month ago, they wanted Amarillo's head for Hawthorne Bridge!"

 "Had they pushed a little further, they would've found proof of involvement," Minho interjected. 

 "They would have gotten paid off or threatened," Jinki said, reviewing the report on the shipment of electronics that arrived yesterday. "Or found their contact dead."

 "True," Minho agreed, swirling the scotch he had been nursing since the news started. "What do you think Junior will do?"

 Jinki leaned back, loosening his tie. He'd never worked with Gian before. All he knew about the new head of the Amarillo was that he was in the business, and he was ambitious.

 "I heard Gian was banished from the main family for running that side deal with Salazar," Jinki said, referring to a semi-prominent Mexican cartel. "So, I'm not sure if he's going to declare war or be open for business."

 "My money is on declaring war," Taemin said, slurping an oyster. "If he wants to gain the respect of his father's men, he'll be doing just that. I mean, you did when you took over the business."

 "Yeah, but Gian has a hater with his father's numero uno," Minho said, leaning over Taemin's oyster bucket to reach for the charcuterie board. "Rumor has it Vincenzo Benotti might be the old Amarillo's love child."

 "Really?" Jinki asked Minho. "I've never heard of this."

 "I'm not surprised," Minho shrugged before popping a cracker piled with pate and cheese into his mouth. "It's parlour game rumours; some drunken Amarillo lackey may have blabbed over drinks or said out of spite. You know how it is."

 Jinki turned to his computer and pulled up the file on Carlos Amarillo. Under the 'Known Associates' directory, was a picture of Vincenzo. The man had black hair and brown eyes. Just like Amarillo Sr. Being Italian that didn't mean anything. But something about the slant of the man's jaw reminded Jinki of Carlos. 

 "Minho, investigate Vincenzo," Jinki ordered. "I want to know everything. What town his ancestors were from to the brand of their favourite red wine."

 Jinki wasn't sure if he was seeing things, but it was worth investigating. Lovechild or not, Vincenzo might be vying for the top seat. Gian Amarillo could need some help with ensuring his position in the organization. His deal with Carlos Amarillo may not be as dead as he thought it was. On life support, but it looked like it could be revived. 

 He just needed to convince either Vincenzo or Gian that he would make a good ally despite the little fiasco last week. What're a few bullets between business partners? In their world, it was practically considered a nicety. 

 "By the way," Jinki suddenly remembered his pet project. "What do we have on the guy who saved my ass last week?"

- O -

 Albert's was, as usual, teeming with yuppies, grabbing their trendy breakfast before heading off to work. Kibum rang up orders as fast as he could, but his mind still on the unpaid bills he needed to take care of. Kibum glanced down the line, trying to determine how much longer the rush was going to last. With detachment, he noted the quality of apparel Albert's clientele sported and envied the financial security, all of them exuded. 

 "A croissant and a large of your medium roast, please," a woman with flawless makeup and Gucci bag said, barely looking him in the face as she pulled out a Valentino wallet. Kibum punched the order in; $15.08 for Anna. A breakfast for Anna was Kibum's meal budget for 3-days, courtesy of his employee rate at the Dong Fan Chinese restaurant.

 "An espresso please and the fruit and protein box," man in gleaming Rolex and Balenciaga briefcase ordered. His suit was probably Italian, ranging around $5,000.00 to $8,000.00, depending on the make—the leather briefcase around $2,000.00. The Rolex was at least $3,000.00. The guy's entire ensemble would have more than paid off his grandmother's hospital bill. 

 Sir, would you mind pawning me your Rolex so that I can get the hospital off my back? Kibum silently asked the yuppie who didn't bother leaving a tip. 

 "The yogurt parfait and medium-light roast, please," a red-head regular asked. The diamond engagement ring on her finger was so big; it was at least 2 carats with a platinum band encrusted with tiny diamonds. Kibum's entire year of schooling was sitting on that woman's ring finger. 

 Would you mind lending me your ring so I can enroll? Kibum asked the woman in his head as he flashed his practiced smile when she dropped a toonie in the tip jar. I would like to make more of my life than bussing tables and waiting on people. Please. 

 The next customer was dressed in a simple navy blue pinstripe suit. One could say the man didn't belong in the "fashionable" line. Working at Albert's for the past three years had taught Kibum how to size people at a glance. Gauging where they belong in the socio-economic ladder had become his weird expertise. Though the outfit was simple, borderline plain, the perfect fit of the shoulders and elegant drop of the knife-edge crease of the pants said tailored. The understated silver - most likely platinum - watch and leather loafers screamed old money.  

 "The blueberry muffin and a tall medium roast, please," the man said, handing Kibum a fifty dollar bill. 

 Kibum barely stopped an eye-roll. C'mon, dude, it's barely 8 am. Have a little sense, and don't drop a bill so large so early in the morning. "Sir, do you have a smaller bill?"

 "No change?" the man asked an eyebrow raised. 

 "Unfortunately," Kibum said with a fake apologetic smile. 

 "Keep the change then."

 "Sir, your total is $12.30," Kibum exclaimed. 

 "I don't have a smaller bill," the man said as he placed the bill on the counter and walked away.

 "Sir -," Kibum called out, but the next customer stepped in front of him. 

 Kibum punched the payment on auto-pilot and dropped the change in the tip jar, almost feeling nauseous. That was hella over the top, and somehow assholish in its extravagance. But he was thankful for the extra cash he was going to get. 

 After his shift at Albert's, Kibum rushed to the bus stop for his afternoon shift at Dong Fan. The bus was pulling away from the curb when he arrived. Kibum gritted his teeth against the frustration surging through him. He was going to be late for his shift and that meant income loss. 

 Kibum took a deep breath to stifle the string of curses rising from his chest. He took out his phone to call the restaurant but noticed he had an email from St. John's. He was tempted to ignore it but tapped on the icon anyways. 

 Kibum blinked at the message. He scrolled up again to check the sender. Yeah, there it was, St. Johns Hospital. But something was wrong because the email contained a receipt for the amount he owed the hospital.

 Confused, Kibum clicked on the phone number in the signature, brow furrowing as the call went through. After being transferred to accounting he asked about the status of his account. 

 "Your account is up to date."

 "Excuse me?"

 "Your balance was paid for in full yesterday."

 "By whom?" Kibum asked still in disbelief, afraid to believe. "I didn't make the payment," Kibum said. "No one else would make the payment."

 "Payment came in electronically from Jjinggu LLC," the agent answered. "It could be one of those angel-sponsors."

 "What's an angel-sponsor?"

 "They're anonymous individuals or organizations who will settle random accounts as part of their charity work."

 "And you don't know their names at all?"

 "No, I'm sorry. Payors are not required to identify themselves."

 "Ok... but you're sure, they made the payment against my account?"

 "Yes, sir," Kibum heard the operator's smile. "I'm one hundred percent sure, Mr. Kim." 

 "OK," Kibum whispered. "Thanks."

 "Was there anything else I can help you with?"

 "No, that's it."

 Kibum disconnected the call, reeling from the relief. Tears pricked his eyes as the weight of the debt lifted off of his chest. Kibum cupped his hands over his phone, holding it against his forehead. 

 "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you," Kibum chanted in whispers, collapsing on the bus stop bench, trying to contain the tremors running through his body. Glad for a very long time he was alone. 

[sermonfortapelsson]

Should Get 14K Gold  Earrings?

Did you recently are able  to sell your diamonds and were disappointed in exactly where you were quoted?  Think it or not, this occurs many individuals. While it may be frustrating,  determining how much a diamond is worth depends on much through just its  size. Two similar sized diamonds could possibly be sitting definitely one  another and be worth two totally different prices.    You must also consider the carat of diamond. Diamonds are measured in carats.  But the weight of diamond stud earrings is stated in TCW which stands for  total carat weight. Generally the diamonds used inside earrings are of lower  quality. The clarity of diamond proceed earrings is not as better as the  diamond which usually set in pendants and rings. Nevertheless, you must  undertake your earring as consider care of one's other fine jewelry. You must  clean your diamond stud earring with commercial cleaning product could be  produced particularly the diamonds. You can also use ultrasonic jewellery  cleaners to decontaminate your diamond  jewellery wholesale.    The Diamond engagement ring practice back again to the 13th century Europe. A  diamond ring was gifted to a woman as a promise of marriage, and even a  signal to every one of that she was "spoken for." However, it isn't  until the 19th century that common took on a life within the. The idea of an  diamond jewellery wholesalers engagement ring was fully adopted in your  1930's, now approximately 80% of brides sport various the diamond engagement  ring.    Dating in order to ancient Egyptian times, workouts customary for your woman  to wear her diamond engagement ring on the left hand ring fingers. Some  believe it is really because there is alleged to turn into a vein globe left  hand, ring finger that leads directly for the heart. While some believe  occasion due to the fact how the heart sits to the left side of the breast  tissue. Whatever the belief, habits arose, traditions developed and customs  evolved. Recently, however, variations have taken shape. Brides are starting  to put incredibly spin on things, and make their rings more personal and  substantive. Today's bride is a strong woman who likes to specific her own  personal style that will create her own meanings.    If your diamond jewelry requires a stronger cleaning, the utilization of  ammonia and water may suffice. Utilizing a small half and half solution of  ammonia and water, soak your diamond  jewellery wholesalers for about 30 instants. After 30 minutes, eliminate them from the  answer and gently brush the items accordingly. After brushing the item, send  it back to the bowl. Repeat for the following jewelry thing. After all the  items have been cleaned and returned into the solution, swish them around for  a few seconds then remove the kids. Proceed to rinse and dry as outlined the  actual world previous part. An alternative to mixing solutions yourself to  clean your jewelry, would be to purchase an already made jewelry cleaning  remedy. This could be in the form of a solution kit as well as machine, in  order to clean accessory.    14. Diamond Cartage - The bigger the diamond the higher the percentage rate.  1 Carat = 200mg or 100 points/cents. Dictate the diamonds price, Clarity,  Cut, Cartage & Color or shade.    Buying necklaces is a craze to remedy people who enjoy to collect these  valuables. For most females, designer diamond jewelry is a memory. Thus, they  a new unique looking set on every special day as a mark of remembrance.

[saumil-soni]

7 Important Tips to Buy Diamond Jewellery to Avoid Getting Cheated

Precious stones express stronger than words! They're a definitive image of affection and can make anyone look tasteful and rich. Jewels won't likely ever leave design, making them a beneficial venture. With regards to giving diamond rings to your accomplice, doing all necessary investigations prior to choosing a specific brand and show can keep tricky retailers from making a speedy buck out of you.

How Are Jewels Shaped?

The course of how jewels come to be made is very intriguing. The majority of these valuable stones were framed a long time back in the World's mantle. In this layer, the serious intensity of in excess of 1,300 degrees Celsius and tension of around 45 to 60 kilobars follow up on carbon particles to solidify them. This type of carbon is what we call a 'precious stone'. During volcanic emissions, magma blasts out, carrying jewels to the surface. What's more, from that point forward, they find their place in adornments shops.

Looking to buy fine jewelry this anniversary visit the link.

What Are the 4 'Cs of Jewel Quality?

Jewels are evaluated and analyzed for their quality based on the 4 'Cs. These terms are very straightforward and in any event, having essential information about these can pursue your purchasing choice simpler.

1. Cut

At the point when jewels arrive at the surface from the inward layers of the Earth, they are in their crude structure. To set them in a piece of gem-like jewelry or ring, they should be formed and cleaned. The slice of a precious stone alludes to the plan and shape it is given by a goldsmith. It straightforwardly influences the precious stone's money-related esteem. Just when this valuable stone is very much cut really does light enter and reflect back out of the jewel, making a spellbinding shimmer. The different slice grades used to analyze jewels are Great/Phenomenal, Awesome, Great, Fair, and Poor.

2. Color

Precious stones might be unadulterated white in a variety or have a hint of different tones as well, similar to yellow or brown. As a rule, they are grouped on a GIA Variety Reviewing Framework that beginnings with D and closes with Z. The D classification means "totally vapid" and Z means "exceptionally stained". Among these, those having a place with classifications D-K are viewed as the most important.

3. Clearness

This trademark alludes to the inside defects (considerations) and outside imperfections (flaws) a jewel has. The lesser the defects, the more the clearness. The Gemological Organization of America's (GIA) clearness evaluating framework (add connect) is as per the following:

Considerations and flaws are clear under 10x amplification and are effectively noticeable to the unaided eye

4. Carat Weight

Carat weight alludes to the real size and weight of the precious stone. One carat is partitioned into 100 places, and 5 carats make 1 gram. This ought not be mistaken for the term 'karat' which is utilized to show the immaculateness of gold. The carat weight decides the size and presence of the precious stone gems.

What to Post for While Purchasing Precious Stones

Precious stones are until the end of time. Thus, it's critical that you require your investment to pick and not get them in a rush. Since precious stones cost two or three thousand, numerous gem specialists are enticed to delude their imminent clients by selling broken pieces. On the off chance that you're searching for precious stone purchasing exhortation, these tips will give you the advantage when you following visit the store.

1. Low-valued Jewels Likewise Have a 'Low Carat Weight

You might have a strict financial plan, however, it's generally expected worth setting aside somewhat more to purchase a greater and heavier precious stone with a higher carat weight. The inquiry here is, as a general rule, about the beneficiary's own inclinations. With regard to precious stones, vulnerability frequently prompts frustration. To find out if they would like a one-carat precious stone, or on the other hand on the off chance that simply a half-carat would fulfill them. Last, it ultimately depends on you whether you need to purchase as indicated by your preferring or spending plan.

2. Extravagant molded Precious stones Are Appealing However 'Don't Shimmer'

The normal precious stone shapes are the round splendid, princess cut, and oval cut, to give some examples. You could find the extravagant molded precious stones more appealing. Notwithstanding, truly a portion of these like the emerald cut and Asscher cut have less shimmer. However you might take an "extravagant" to such a jewel shape, it may not give you that brightness you need.

3. Less expensive Jewels Are Likewise 'Ineffectively cut'

Cost and quality have an immediate connection in any event, for precious stones. Jewels with an unfortunate cut cost less, however, look dim, dull, and inert. Such stones don't give incredible incentives for cash. Thus, consider placing in somewhat more and going for a round precious stone with a Fantastic/Generally excellent cut or an extravagant molded one with a Decent/Fair cut.

4. 'Intriguing shaded Precious stones' Might Cost Not exactly Dull Ones

Jewels are likewise accessible in various extravagant varieties. A fantasy all extravagant shaded precious stones are more costly than the unadulterated white ones. Goldsmiths could attempt to fool you into paying something else for a "bright" precious stone, so it's fundamental that you know a piece about them. Extravagant yellow or earthy-colored jewels are exceptionally normal and will quite often be more affordable than dull ones. Then again, pink, red, blue, and green precious stones are viewed as intriguing and esteemed more than drab jewels. Likewise, extravagant tones are substantially more eye-catching than white, wouldn't you say?

5. Check For 'Scratches' Brought about by Ill-advised Cleaning

When the jewel is cut, every one of its features is cleaned; on the off chance that this isn't done flawlessly, it might prompt effectively apparent scratches on the outside surface of the precious stone. These imperfections are like those abandoned on a vehicle subsequent to waxing. Therefore, it's ideal to go for jewels that have no or hardly any scratches.

6. Too many 'Inside Blemishes' Might Influence Worth and Solidness

Expecting that the gem dealer illuminates you about the inside blemishes (considerations) of the jewel, there's an opportunity you might overlook it thinking, "As long as it doesn't show outwardly, what's the point?" That is where a few clients commit a lamentable error. An imperfection is only that, and considerations, for example, air pockets, breaks, and non-precious stone minerals may not allow the light to enter and reflect, hence decreasing the jewel's splendor throughout the long term. Here and there, obliviousness isn't delight!

7. 'Confirmed Jewels' Assurance Inward feeling of harmony

Individuals incline toward purchasing brands and names since they give affirmation and assurance of good item quality. In like manner, a jewel with a declaration is in every case better. A testament from licensed diamond labs, for example, the Gemological Foundation of America (GIA) or American Jewel Society Research Centers (AGSL) brings up every one of the novel attributes of the valuable stone including its definite estimations, weight, clearness, variety, cut, evenness, clean and quality. This allows you to come to an educated conclusion about which model to purchase.

There's no question that precious stones are an immortal and delightful gift you can give your accomplice. Be that as it may, pursuing a viable choice and not a profound one, keeping the drawn out in perspective is similarly significant. All things considered, precious stones are a one-time and superb venture, so ensure you get the incentive for-cash compromise right.

[chaosisforus]

Should Get 14K Gold Earrings?

Did you recently are able to sell your diamonds and were disappointed in exactly where you were quoted? Think it or not, this occurs many individuals. While it may be frustrating, determining how much a diamond is worth depends on much through just its size. Two similar sized diamonds could possibly be sitting definitely one another and be worth two totally different prices. You must also consider the carat of diamond. Diamonds are measured in carats. But the weight of diamond stud earrings is stated in TCW which stands for total carat weight. Generally the diamonds used inside earrings are of lower quality. The clarity of diamond proceed earrings is not as better as the diamond which usually set in pendants and rings. Nevertheless, you must undertake your earring as consider care of one's other fine jewelry. You must clean your diamond stud earring with commercial cleaning product could be produced particularly the diamonds. You can also use ultrasonic jewellery cleaners to decontaminate your diamond jewellery wholesale. The Diamond engagement ring practice back again to the 13th century Europe. A diamond ring was gifted to a woman as a promise of marriage, and even a signal to every one of that she was "spoken for." However, it isn't until the 19th century that common took on a life within the. The idea of an diamond jewellery wholesalers engagement ring was fully adopted in your 1930's, now approximately 80% of brides sport various the diamond engagement ring. Dating in order to ancient Egyptian times, workouts customary for your woman to wear her diamond engagement ring on the left hand ring fingers. Some believe it is really because there is alleged to turn into a vein globe left hand, ring finger that leads directly for the heart. While some believe occasion due to the fact how the heart sits to the left side of the breast tissue. Whatever the belief, habits arose, traditions developed and customs evolved. Recently, however, variations have taken shape. Brides are starting to put incredibly spin on things, and make their rings more personal and substantive. Today's bride is a strong woman who likes to specific her own personal style that will create her own meanings. If your diamond jewelry requires a stronger cleaning, the utilization of ammonia and water may suffice. Utilizing a small half and half solution of ammonia and water, soak your diamond jewellery wholesalers for about 30 instants. After 30 minutes, eliminate them from the answer and gently brush the items accordingly. After brushing the item, send it back to the bowl. Repeat for the following jewelry thing. After all the items have been cleaned and returned into the solution, swish them around for a few seconds then remove the kids. Proceed to rinse and dry as outlined the actual world previous part. An alternative to mixing solutions yourself to clean your jewelry, would be to purchase an already made jewelry cleaning remedy. This could be in the form of a solution kit as well as machine, in order to clean accessory. 14. Diamond Cartage - The bigger the diamond the higher the percentage rate. 1 Carat = 200mg or 100 points/cents. Dictate the diamonds price, Clarity, Cut, Cartage & Color or shade. Buying necklaces is a craze to remedy people who enjoy to collect these valuables. For most females, designer diamond jewelry is a memory. Thus, they a new unique looking set on every special day as a mark of remembrance.

[queensdivas]

Hidden Blade Chapter 1

Y’all I’ve been to excited for this because I loved this movie with a passion. (Nothing beats Bohrap btw but damn 6 Underground was awesome not just because of Ben. Though he really made the movie even better.) If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters please hmu! 

Please enjoy and I’ll see you guys in the next chapter or one of my updates. I’m on a train ride to London from Edinburgh so it’s about five hours. I plan on getting a crap done this ride so you might be seeing multiple updates! 

Enjoy! 

Next Chapter

Masterlist

Governments should always be in fear of who they govern over..those who are being governed should never be living in fear of who they are ruled over. Yet we live in a world where those in power abuse it badly so they can live the lavish life of the vices, greed, lust, and even the gluttony of having everything at their feet. Those who suffer under those sadly are living in a society in fear, hate, and uncertainty of whether they’ll be okay by the end of the day. 

That’s where I come in. 

You have to start somewhere small in order to cause a chain reaction. That lovely snowball effect. I start small by cutting off the suppliers resources, such as their plants, dirty shacks, and even the old warehouses. Once the resources are extinguished, I then move up to those in high up positions in order to really cause the rolling to begin. 

Yet I was given an opportunity to do a little more good with a lot less strings attached. Who doesn’t love a little more freedom. But what I was offered was complete freedom and who wouldn’t want complete freedom. 

You ever played the Assassins Creed games? I like to consider myself a walking version of that except no magical abilities, no special creed, or even a long line of ancestors that are meant to look similar and only the first three or four games nailed the similarities. Not the point. For those of you who’ve never heard of those games, imagine someone who's able to scale an entire flat building, stand on top of a metal cross, and even have some really cool equipment to help get the job done. We’ll be getting to those a little later. 

My name is eight. The Assassin. 

What’s the difference between a Hitman and Assassin you ask? One gets paid to do any form of killing for money, the other one does it for either political or religious reasons in this world of ours. But you both kill people? True. Never declared myself a saint anyhow in this world so shush! Story time! 

I pulled up to one of the abandoned planes to turn off my 4runner and climb out. Love the whole abandoned airfield look for the hideout. Really gives that fast and furious sort of vibe. How many movies are in the series anyhow? 

A ram truck came pulling up next to my 4runner as I began grabbing all my junk to hopefully store somewhere that was a little more secure than my new apartment here in California. Keeping a bunch of ropes, weapons, and my vast amount of foreign fruit would get me busted and I certainly love my Nectarine! 

“Glad to know I wasn’t the only one brought into this little adventure.” He appeared in front of me as I swung my duffle bag right on my shoulder. I closed the door as I turned to see him all dressed in american/military gear. An American soldier? Real power move.  

“Glad to see we got ourselves a soldier. Eight.” I held my hand out to him as he shook it. 

“Seven. At Least according to that dude.” He pointed as one came out of a tiny airplane and smiled. 

“Weird to see you not looking like a GAP model.” He showed up at my apartment in Israel looking like he walked out of Sunday church for some god knows reason. At first I thought he was apart of Jehovah's witness but as you can see we’re about to kill some mother fuckers.

“Ah really funny. Come meet the rest of us oh so lovely fellow campers.” We walked into the base as a women with blonde hair was reading a map while another woman was reading what looked like some sort of medical book. 

“Ladies this is seven and eight our newest batch of newbies. The one reading the map is two and in the cap is five. Not sure where the other two are but I imagine they’ll be showing up sometime soon.” I gave them a small wave as I put my bag on the ground next to the large table. 

“Look who finally showed up. Four this is seven and eight our eyes from the sky.” He tossed his hoodie down on the table as he gave us a small smile. The last member came into the room which is what I’m assuming was three. 

“There’s this trick that we all do to get through our day. We take a box and into that box, we place all the horrors of the world, all the wrongs humans do to one another. And then we close the box and pretend it doesn’t exist. Only some of us spend too much time inside the box. We’ve lost our ability to pretend. We know there’s too much unfinished business in this messed up world. Our job as ghosts is to do the dirty work the living can’t or won’t. And we do it from here. This is our haunted house. It’s a lot like the Batcave, except it’s nothing like the Batcave. Seven, eight. You’re dead. You’re gonna be restricted to cities that you’ve never visited before. People that you’ve never met. All of course your fellow ghost, none of whom you’ll know by name, only number, for safety, and so no one gets too close.” I mean. All we need is a butler, some random child to say “geez guys” and I think we would be set. 

“So basically what we’re doing is a sense of a justice league but with no moral codes?” Asking as One nodded. 

“Yes. Except Wonder Women uses guns and Batman is okay with killing people.” I..okay that works. 

“Each one of us has our own little gifts we bring to the table and now that we’ve required you two, we now officially have a set team.” 

“We’re like the A-Team but on steroids except Mr. T is this guy.” The Spainard commented as everyone just stared him down. 

“In your vast dreams.” One commented.

“Will we be required to wear matching rings?” Asking which made I believe his name is four chuckle a little. 

“Funny. Alright c’mon I wanna show you two something.” We all followed him into another room where a wall covered with nine pieces of paper with a single roman numerals on each one. 

“This is our target hitboard. These nine fuckers have been placing too much shit inside the box. So now they answer to us. Target number one: this prick. The Dictator of Turgistan Roach Alimov.” I walked over to his photo and began studying the guy. Radiates small dick energy already from all the work I’ve done over there, kind of like Kim Jong-Un except he doesn’t flaunt his money. 

“God I’m really craving french fries. Can we finish this over at Luckies?” I believe he’s three asked the group as I began walking past the other eight pieces of paper as I lightly saw their faces. Efrain Gracian. He runs the largest drug cartel in Mexico and has been killing a shit ton of innocent people in their villages. Oh my god they put Kim Jon-Un on their target list hell yeah. 

“So we plan on just killing all these pricks because they keep shitting on their countries and the rest of the world?” Leaning against the wall facing them as one nodded. 

“I say we finish this thing at Luckies. I’m really feeling a shitty beer to set the mood of introductions.” One began walking out of the fort as everyone else followed except for me as I looked at the wall again. Figured there would be less on the board in all honesty. 

~~~

I slipped into the booth with myself facing the middle of the window and the inside of the restaurant, seven sitting to my left while four was on my right. To think that I’m now officially dead and I cut all my ties off when I left home so no funeral. Bet they thought I was already dead anyhow so this works nicely. 

“So what do you bring to the table?” I was asked as I tossed my car keys on the table. 

“The soundless steps of a killer is what I bring to the table. You guys make a shit ton of noise if I think I know who you are. I’m assuming you guys we’re the one destroying Florence?” His eyes widened a little which makes my assumption correct cause these fuckers really had fun in Florence. 

“Florence was an absolute disaster.” He stopped talking as the waiter came to the group. 

“A round of Heineken for everyone. Then whatever else they want.” I ordered as everyone smiled a little as they began ordering their preferred drinks. 

“Figured you’d be a good match since you graciously just bought us all drinks. So if you’re a soundless killer, who have you eliminated?” You can thank the new democracy in South Sudan, and ending an entire sex trafficking operation in Chad. Both we’re super difficult to achieve but damn I did an awesome job. Both were run by major cunts obviously and took months of planning to even get close to them. 

“Who do you think got rid of the cunt from South Sudan?” Seven looked over at me then leaned across the table. 

“You killed Zafir Bahri?” Seven asked as I nodded. 

“Yup. Yet it was one of my most difficult assassinations since I had to make a break for it in the countryside. Kind of stuck out like a sore thumb till I made it to a reservation station.” The waitress came with the first round of beers. Four took a big gulp of his beer then sighed. 

“Alright if we’re going to show off what our past selves have done. I got the chance to steal a 5.0 carat ruby necklace that had two smaller diamonds that were about 4.2 carats that was about 100,000 dollars worth.” Yet he’s sitting here in an American restaurant drinking some shitty beer and eating high heart attack food? Sounds about right. 

“And here you are in America drinking Heineken and about to eat a very greasy double cheeseburger. Cheers” I grabbed my bottle as he did for us to clink our bottles together. Four seems super chill actually and now I’m kind of curious how he pulled off that heist. 

“So. What’s the absolute best thing about being dead? I mean you don’t have to pay taxes anymore.” Seven asked the entire group as they all had an inner conversation with themselves about the best part of being deceased. 

“No more dmv lines, no more shopping for Christmas.” Christmas has always been stressful for my old life and I didn’t even celebrate it!

“Or backstabbing girlfriends.” Raising my eyebrow at four. Damn someone broke his little heart. I’d play the worlds saddest song on the tiniest violin but not sure if he would get the reference. 

“They should make an “Out of office” reply for dead people. Sorry I’m away from the planet right now. I’m fucking dead.” That’s a bit much but if it makes her feel better about being dead then let her do her own thing. 

“No more tax, no more criminal records, no more getting arrested by the pigs just for being naked and or just the usual stuff. You know, being naked, getting drunk. Casual stuff.” How is being naked casual? Since when is being naked considered casual in any standard? 

“Umm. How is being naked any form of being casual?” He took a drink of his beer as he licked his lips.

“Ya know. Just walking around naked on your balcony or even on your front porch. It’s a casual thing.” I..I still don’t see that as a casual thing. Around the house yes because oversized t-shirt and underwear is always a comfy.

“Is that like when Jersey people say it’s a jersey thing?” Before he could answer One chuckled a little. 

“Guys. You’re all wrong. The best thing about being dead is the freedom. I mean, we’re all gonna die. May as well do it while we’re alive, right? When you’re young, you lock yourself into all of these bad decisions. Marriages, mortgages, and all that kind of stuff. But you die. It’s all escaped. Poof! Gone! From that point forward, all that matters is what you choose. The point is that we should bring seven and eight behind the curtain. You wanna hand me those over there?” Three handed him a bunch of plastic cups as leaned a little more forward on the table. I looked out of the corner of my eye to see him quickly glancing away back at the demonstration. Guess he’s kind of cute, not exactly sure how getting involved with people on the team is viewed. Rather avoid the whole situation. 

“Alright here. A little deminsation, no technology. So this is how to stage a coup in three not so easy steps. Alright you got a country, Turgistan right? These are the people, nice people, going about, doing their thing. Then you got the four generals, cuatro cunts, very bad guys. But there’s one worse guy. That’s the piece of shit dictator, right there at the top.” Sounds about right. That was basically the entire set up in South Sudan. 

“Don’t forget his brother.” Brother? Oh yeah, the guy has a brother that basically has been isolated or off the face of the earth at this point. Gotta love it when Governments hide those wanting a better world, or hiding sick pedophiles when they fake suicides so they don’t go to prison or end up being executed. 

“Democracy loving brother.” So we’ve got a shitty dictator and a loving democratic. Of freakin’ course!

“He’s the key. So we’re gonna hit the four generals. They’re gonna lead us to the brother.” 

“You kill top Generals, you fuck the dictators day.” Three shoved a few French fries in his mouth. 

“Can confirm.” I took a big gulp of my beer as I leaned back against the booth.

“Second thing we're gonna do is free the brother. And the last thing we’re gonna do is we’re gonna say goodbye to piece of shit dictator and hello to democracy loving brother.”

“It all goes down in four months, El Dia de los Muertos, The Day of the Dead.” Kinky.

“Oh that’s it?” Seven and I looked at each other for the both of us to nod in approval of the plan. 

“Um well that’s pretty simple ya know. The cups.” I took a drink of my beer as I began mentally seeing the whole plan in my head. 

“Wonderful presentation.” We’re gonna die aren’t we?

“So we’re all gonna die?” At this point I say that’s a hard yes. 

“Not me.” What confidence she has because there’s something about her that just kind of scares the shit out of me. Must be something federal in her former life.

“She’s not, we all are. Painfully.” Peachy. Real fucking peachy. But hey I’m already technically dead so this works out perfectly in the end. Just when my body shows up at someones house or is found floating on the coast, going to be quite a headache trying to figure out since I’m already dead. 

Maybe I should be more optimistic with this new life. Could be worse. I could be stuck in a work camp in Siberia. Maybe we just see where this goes and if it doesn’t end well I just disappear into the unknown. Sounds like an absolute plan! 

Taglist:

@bonafiderocketqueen @filmslutt @imjustboredso @intoanothermind @4lendow-norris @wickedholland 

@takemetoneverland420 @art-flirt @intoanothermind @raylan-c

[indiaalphawhiskey]

SD Drabble #1

Note: Another prompt I thought of long ago, that I’m still so in love with. I don’t know if I’ll ever get the time to write it, but here it is anyway. Posting under the tag “Sugar Daddy AU”. Please excuse my self-indulgence. xx ---

“Have you got that?” the woman asked. The tone of her voice, coupled with the patronizing pinch of her newly ‘refreshed’ lips, screamed condescension.

Harry offered her a soft, subdued smile. “I have, ma’am,” he said, calmly.

She sniffed and her nose, already two and a half inches in the air to begin with, titled higher in doubt. “Repeat it, then.”

Harry let out a slow exhale through his teeth.

“Of course.” His smile never left his face as he ran through the list in his head. “For the table’s appetizers, the Rockefeller oyster platter, baked garlic lemon butter scallops, lemon butter sauce separated into individual sauce dishes, garlic to the side, and a Caesar salad, with no dressing, no bacon, no chicken, and no croutons, to be served twenty minutes before the main dishes. For his entree,” Harry said, turning to offer the gentleman – who had been scanning him from head-to-toe with a rather lascivious smirk – a quick nod. “Sir will have the cherry-glazed rack of lamb, with marble potatoes instead of garlic rice pilaf, potatoes pre-cut into quarters, and a whiskey double.” He turned back to the woman, a challenge in his tone. “Madam will have the Chilean sea bass and braised asparagus, asparagus to the side and blanched instead of braised, with the pesto and lemon sauce on a separate dish, and a glass of Semillon. Dessert will be two pieces of the dairy and gluten-free chocolate truffle cake, and two glasses of our best sherry.”

The woman’s gaze remained unimpressed.

“Fine,” she breathed. She flicked her fingers away once, the sheen of her opulent diamond ring reflected on the white tablecloth – a dismissal.

Harry bowed politely, face impeccably calm as he gathered the menus from the table and began to walk away.

Oyster platter and scallops baked in nothing, he recited in his head as he weaved his way around the tables. Plain lettuce masquerading as Caesar salad. Lamb with an entirely different side dish than the one on the menu – Chef will be pleased as fuck, by the way––

Snap! Harry startled at the sound. What the f–– Snap! Snap! Snap!

He leaned back reflexively to avoid the hand aggressively snapping right in front of his nose, before turning to find it was attached to a portly man in his mid-fifties. His face was tinged red with impatience, his breath laboured as he heaved himself back onto his chair now that he had Harry’s attention.

Harry took a deep breath before facing the table.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Sir,” he began politely. “But my colleague will be with you in just a mo –”

“Oh, you’ll do, sweetheart,” the man crooned, licking his lips as he surveyed Harry. “You’ll do just fine.”

His impatience had faded completely, Harry noticed, though Harry much preferred irritation to… whatever this new expression was. Having only had this job for three days, it took all of Harry’s willpower to swallow the cutting remark that was already resting on his tongue. He managed, but unfortunately, the way his skin was crawling with discomfort was not as easily dealt with.

He exhaled slowly, reminding himself why he needed this job. Unbidden, the events of the last week flashed before his eyes.

Finding unrecognizable lingerie under his pillow. Being told by his fiance that he was being left for a nineteen-year-old pilates instructor slash aspiring male model. Discovering three months’ worth of unpaid rent bills hidden in their (now his, he supposed) bread box, and a discarded bill for a ‘12-carat gold-plated necklace with ‘MY BABY’ engraving, cursive’ (Gross.) in his trash (already paid, thank God for small favours). Combing coffee shop bulletin boards for part-time jobs that fit his tedious grad school schedule. Chicken-flavored ramen for the three straight dinners.

He tried not to sigh.

Relax, he told himself. Be professional, get your check, and get out of here.

“How may I help you, Sir?” Harry said, miraculously polite.

“Well, handsome,” Lecherous Restaurant Patron purred, drawing out the pregnant pause as Harry quelled a rising gag.

“Come off it, George,” his companion cut in. He tacked on a chuckle at the end like an afterthought, though it couldn’t mask the slight edge embedded in the words. It made Harry think of the way a cheeky thief smiles as he runs his finger back and forth against a switchblade – just a hint of a threat. “Just order, mate. The kid’s busy.”

It was hardly a white knight stepping in to defend his honour, but after the week Harry had, it was close. He had barely glanced in his saviour’s direcion before George spoke again.

“I own the place, Tomlinson. He can spare a couple more minutes, can’t you, darling?” He punctuated the question with two hefty slaps to Harry’s arse cheek. The first made Harry freeze in shock. The second made his vision go red.

Lingerie.

‘He’s… amazing, Harry. I love him.’

Rent.

‘MY BABY’ engraving, cursive.

Wanted: Part-time Wait Staff.

‘Repeat it, then.’

Slap! Slap!

The punch flew out of Harry, the crisp sound of knuckles against cheekbone ringing satisfyingly in his ears, loud and clear over the scuffle, over the yelling, over the firing. It was all Harry could hear until the harsh slam of the restaurant’s back door, and the biting whip of the winter wind.

Cheated on, left, in debt, harassed, fired, tossed out on my arse, Harry thought to himself, raising his fist in a sarcastic cheer. B-I-N-G-fucking-O. What he wouldn’t do for a joint right now.

He let out a deep, bone-tired sigh, winter’s icy fingers creeping around his open coat and up his too-thin undershirt (they had taken his uniform straight off his back, the bastards), before making his way out of the tiny back alley. He hunched his shoulders automatically, the wind somehow stronger out on the dimly lit main street, and began his long trudge to the tube stop, large hands stuffed awkwardly into his coat’s faux pockets because he had also lost his favorite gloves to bloody Neverwhere this morning.

“Mind the gap, indeed,” he mumbled to himself sadly, taking a little solace in the fact that he had remembered to bring his earphones with him today. He was convinced the morose opening chords of Landslide would manage soothe his broken heart, if he played it enough times. (Hey, if Stevie made it through, so could Harry.)

Lost in thought (and in the gargantuan task of untangling the aforementioned earphones), the barely audible crunch of gravel next to him didn’t register at all.

“ – genuinely feel like you’re ignoring me on purpose now but, once more, with feeling – Do. You. Need. A. Ride?”

Harry jumped, clutching at his heart and dropping his earphones in surprise. “What the bloody –”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” the man said. He offered Harry a sheepish smile, his elbow resting on the window of his cheesily predictable top down. “But I’d been here for like seven minutes –”

“You’ve been stalking me for seven minutes,” Harry deadpanned, so done with these absolute shits. “Yeah, not a great line to lead with.”

“Not stalking,” he tried to chuckle confidently, but the tone came out slightly uncertain. “But like, offering you a ride. You know, to make up for…” He tipped his head backward, motioning to the restaurant. “My partner. Business partner,” he clarified seriously, and ––

Oh, Harry thought. The other guy. Tomlinson, he remembered. No wonder his voice was familiar.

“No, thank you,” Harry said curtly as he began to walk again, his face resolutely blank, eyes trained stubbornly on his destination.

A huff of disbelief weaved itself between the sound of slow-rolling wheels.

“C’mon, kid,” Tomlinson tried. “It’s cold as shit.”

“Then maybe get a car with a roof,” Harry said, quietly.

Tomlinson chuckled in answer, wheels still painfully in time with Harry’s steps.

“Fair point. C’mon,” he repeated. “You’ve had a shit night. You’re cold and tired. Let me give you a ride.” When Harry stayed silent, he continued. “You’ll be home quicker. Home, and clean,” he needled. “And warm.”

At that, Harry let himself steal a glance, and was greeted with Tomlinson’s smirking profile, his eyes on the road. High cheekbones, a sharp jaw, the lovely peak of a small nose – everything was slim and pointed. Pixie-like, Harry caught himself thinking, though the delicate quality of his face was offset by just a hint of handsome stubble. A healthy amount of silver decorated his temples, but the hair on his head was still a touch more pepper than salt. Not quite a silver fox just yet.

Fifty, Harry guessed. Fifty-five at most.

“Is this your M.O., or something?” Harry asked, trying to keep the raking irritation from bleeding into his voice. The calmer he was, the less Tomlinson would think he was getting somewhere. “Is that how this works? You go to a restaurant, find a target, get your wingman to act like an arsehole, and then swoop in for the kill?”

A startled laugh broke through the hush of the street.

“Just a wee bit paranoid, aren’t you?” Tomlinson teased.

“Evasive, aren’t you?” Harry shot back.

“Okay, calm down, Sherlock.” Harry could still hear the amusement in his voice. “I do have killer flirting skills, but not serial killer flirting skills.”

Harry sighed then, so, so exhausted. “Right. Well again, no thank you on the ride. In case my little demonstration at the restaurant was somehow unclear, I don’t date men who are old enough to be my father.”

He tipped his chin up higher, because while Harry may not have any money (or a job, or a fiance), he still had his dignity.

Or at least part of it, he corrected, pushing away the curdle of humiliation as he remembered finding those awful panties.

“So you only date cheap men,” Tomlinson said, decisively.

“God,” Harry whispered under his breath, his annoyance now too hard to ignore. Louder he said, “Fuck off.”

“Cheap,” he continued confidently over Harry’s insult. “Young, handsome bastards who get one big paycheck and think that makes them Drake or whoever the fuck –” The cool-dad rap reference, plus the well-timed dig at his stupid, necklace-engraving ex, made Harry’s lip twitch upward against his will. “ – and then fuck off with some barely-legal twit who sucks dick like a champ but can’t name a single city outside of London.”

Harry snorted.

“Know him, or something?” he asked sarcastically, eyes trained on the tiny Underground sign that was still about three blocks away.

“Know him? Oh love,” The way he said it – ‘Luhv’ – made Harry finally turn to him. It was a mistake. His eyes were sharp – a searing blue even in the orange cast of the street lamps – and his smile devastating. “I am him,” he admitted freely, the skin around his eyes crinkling as his smirk widened. “Only, you know,” he shrugged. “With a few more checks, and slightly higher standards. I mean,” he blinked, almost sweetly. “You can name at least three cities outside London... can’t you?”

Harry could feel a gentle heat settle at the tops of his cheeks, the insinuation about his blowjob skills decidedly not lost on him. He felt his stomach do a sudden somersault. He pushed it away, convincing himself it was just the rush of attention, the electricity of an unexpected ego boost and that quick, first moment of feeling pretty again after getting horribly, horribly dumped.

His brief silence must’ve signaled a chink in his armour, because Tomlinson then took it as an opportunity to say, “I’m Louis.”

“I didn’t ask,” Harry said, tongue fast, though the fact that he hadn’t yet ducked into a not-suitable-for-sports-cars-sized alleyway probably softened the blow.

Louis only nodded, still smiling. “Right, okay. As much fun as this has been, I really doubt the lovely heated seating of my car will dull our banter. Or...” he dragged out the ‘r’, eyes mischievous.  “Are you really going to let a…” he assessed Harry. “Twenty? Twenty year gap be the reason you get hypothermia? Is that really the hill you want to freeze on, Mr. Principled?”

“Closer to twenty-six,” Harry corrected stubbornly. “Which is an entire fully grown adult between us. You could have kids as old – nay, older – than our age gap.” Did he just say ‘nay?’

“Did you just say ‘nay’, Shakespeare?” Louis teased. “So definitely at least three cities outside London, then.” Harry didn’t smile but it was a close thing. “And I promise you,” Louis continued. “I haven’t put myself in the position to bear children since you were – nay, before you were born. Been in a lot of other positions since then, though.”

He had the audacity to punctuate it with a wink. It was annoyingly charming, and Harry had never been angrier at himself.

“Besides,” Louis said, with the kind of smile that knew victory was close. “It’s just a ride, love, no strings attached. Unless of course, getting tied up is what you’re into,” he added, so incredibly pleased with himself. Harry wanted to smack him. But he could also feel the blessedly comfortable heat radiating from the car’s vents.

“Fine.”