#jewelry engraving services

[bestdiamondjewelry1]

Jewelry Engraving Services In Missouri

Jewelry engraving services in Missouri provide a personalized touch to your treasured pieces, allowing you to add meaningful inscriptions, names, dates, or special messages. Whether it's for wedding rings, watches, pendants, or other jewelry, these services enhance the sentimental value of your items, making them truly unique. Skilled engravers in Missouri use advanced techniques to ensure precise and elegant results, whether you prefer classic scripts or modern designs. Perfect for commemorating special occasions or creating custom gifts, jewelry engraving adds a lasting impression to your cherished pieces.

[hudsonpoolejewelers]

Several times, due to a bit of chipping or chafing, we keep away our jewelry. However, stores offer to handle these damages and many others very efficiently with the help of high technology and products. In this article, we will examine the varied range of services that almost all major stores provide to restore the original brilliance of the product.

[huiyitan]

Learn Hand Engraving without Learning Graver Making

[callaghanengraving]

Callaghan Engraving specializes in custom-engraved gifts, awards, and personalized items for individuals, events, and businesses. Based in Nashville, TN, we are known for elegant craftsmanship and exceptional customer service, offering free engraving, shipping, and premium presentation boxes.

Business Hours: Monday–Friday: 9:00 AM – 5:00 PM

Payment Methods: Credit Card (Visa, MasterCard, AmEx), PayPal, Cash

Year Est.: 2015

Contact Info:

Callaghan Engraving

Address: 1443 Elm Hill Pike, Unit 502, Nashville, TN 37210 USA

Phone: +1 561-818-2903

Mail: info@callaghanengraving.com

Website: https://www.callaghanengraving.com

Follow On:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/callaghanengraving

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/callaghanengraving/

[diamondjewelry23]

Jewelry items have a significant meaning for which individuals wear. Individuals adorn these ornaments to look their best during important events; a few pieces of family heirlooms contain memories. However, for these ornaments to get damaged over time is something other than what individuals prefer. The Jewelry Repair Services help retain the charm and value of these jewelry items.

[hudson-poole-fine-jewelers]

Take an unsurpassable trip to high-quality art without any delay because you can always order high-quality pieces from exclusive jewelers for the finest Jewelry Repair Services. Work with some of the best jewelers in this blog to understand the importance of settling for first-rate jewelers for diverse services, including jewelry maintenance, ring engraving, ring cleaning, and diamond ring resizing.

[finejewelryandblog]

What is the Practicality of Jewelry Repairing Online?

With the best Jewelry Repair Services, you can now maintain and extend the longevity of your priceless ornaments. They deploy the latest methodologies to clean and repair your jewelry. One of the key highlights of these services is that they offer you great flexibility. Maintain the shine of your favorite ornaments by opting for repair services.

[spiderfunkz]

HYUN-JU x SHORT!READER

pairings. cho hyun-ju x f!reader

author's note: if u wanna see an x tall!reader click here. as always, my requests for hyun-ju are open! just be sure to read this before sending me an ask🫶🏻 also i've been wanting to write for kang dae-ho, so pleasee send me some ideas for him!!

▸ we love to see a cute height difference in a relationship. hyun-ju's tall, 6ft-ish. she towers over you, you find it intimidating but she finds it funny, how you look so tiny from her perspective.

▸ she treats you like a princess. i believe her love language is acts of service & quality time. she loves being around you and loves spending time with you.

▸ i don't think the height difference would make a huge change in the relationship, but it definitely shows subtly.

▸ like how you have to go on your tippy-toes when you kiss her, how you're usually the small spoon during cuddles, and when hyun-ju's the small spoon your legs hang a little.

▸ it's cute for sure. since she's taller she'll appear more dominant, through her actions you could totally see that.

▸ how she rushes to open doors for you, she'll spoil you with whatever you want; flowers, matching necklaces, rings, or just anything you bat an eye at, hyun-ju gets it immediately. she lends you her coat when you're cold, even if it's oversized on you, she thinks it's adorable.

▸ you of course repay it, in your own way. giving her kisses while cupping cheeks, her hands holding your waist, giving you support as you try to get to her height— kissing her until your lipstick stains her face.

▸ since your clothes are smaller than hers, you share your jewelry or items with her. your purse with the keychain she gave you, a necklace with a pretty butterfly, anything!

▸ if you see her like a specific item— "you wanna keep it? looks really good on you, hyun. so pretty."

▸ most of the sweaters you wear are hers, it's scented like her and it's engraved in your head. it gives you warmth and comfort.

▸ hugs with her are the best. it can cure you like medicine.

▸ when cuddling, she'll let you lay on her chest, hearing her heartbeat while you both stay in comfortable silence. it's one of her favorite moments during the night, just peaceful quiet with the occasional soft whispers from you.

▸ after a long day, she loves to lay her head on yours. and you'd lay your head on her shoulder. it makes for a sweet and genuine moment.

▸ she basically treasures you. that's how all relationships should make you feel, treasured.

▸ if you ever get picked on for your height, i'll say it again— hyun-ju can be really intimidating. like really, really, really intimidating.

▸ ouhhhh, AND SHE'S STRONG. sorry, i just had to mention that. you've basically hit the jackpot.

▸ that also means she can carry you anywhere, regardless of your height or weight. this is what i mean when i say she treats you like a princess. she'll literally pick you up just to tease you, she knows how flustered you can get.

▸ you know how to pick up as well, as in "pick up lines". you're quick with it too. oh and, hyun-ju blushes from her ears. it's just a tiny thing to notice, but it's so cute.

▸ you two would just be the sweetest duo. with the multiple vases full of fresh flowers in your home, framed photos of each other, the 0.5 pictures hyun-ju has saved of you on her phone (she has a whole album for it), the surprised dates. she'd just be so lovely and fun.

[quarterlifekitty]

I'm begging with all the devotion I can muster PLEASSEEEEEE write part two for the goddess reader its such a unique creative concept that was written so well for being so short the people NEED it thank you for your service 🙏🏽

here's a little something something. Also, not really a content warning, but I feel the need to mention: I write intimacy/romance like a freak

cw: non-graphic sexual intimacy, mentioned death of a child

You can only appear to your devoted one through significant offerings. Trapped in the realm of the gods, you are powerless for as long as you lay forgotten by mankind. You tell König that his love is what gives you power.

His usual gifts to you are fruits and jewelry. At the end of his battles, he collects the gear of the fallen– armor, weapons, shields– and has it all melted down. He commissions the best craftsmen to create delicate chains, cameos in your image, beautiful bangles engraved with processions of animals. Rabbits are his favorite to adorn your altar with– representing luck, quickness, numbers… fertility.

His favorite piece for you is a hair pin. He had it made from the guard of a sword he pulled from some foreign noble– embedded with small jewels and molded leaves. He loves to see it glitter in the light as you turn to see him with that inspiring smile when he comes to visit.

Your temple features an impluvium– a tiled pool for catching rainwater. It’s purified from your influence, he’s drank from it many times. And one day, he sees your stolla neatly draped on your pedestal. Gold and silver are the only things decorating your ample form as you relax in the cool water, beckoning him forth like a nymph. He’s never shed his things more quickly.

He’s had women before. Paid women. Women whose time had a price– who wanted him to take what he wanted and leave quickly. He’s an efficient man, and it was never a problem for him, he understood that there was no room for true intimacy in a brothel.

You treat König to something so different it’s almost antithetical. It’s tantric, cool and warm at the same time, as many square inches of your skin pressed to his as possible. You are entwined. He could swear his flesh feels wedded to yours. To part from you would be death– to be alone in his own body.

The last time a person’s touch made him feel beautiful, he was a boy holding the hand of a girl, the young daughter of the man who owned the farm his family worked on. They were children when she died. He has felt robbed, alone, and abandoned ever since. You crack him open by the sternum and climb in between his ribs the same way that she once did. He would die for you and fight his way back from the underworld to die for you again.

[lunaekalenda]

jjk men's hands!

satoru gojo

satoru's hands are bony and pale. his fingers are extremely long and slim, and his skin is always soft and warm. every week, you sit with him at your living room table and take care of his hands, as he does with you: apply creams, prepare his cuticles and cut his nails. then, he paints yours, letting you chose the color or surprising you with something he saw on pinterest. he takes your hands on his, concentrated in painting all your nail, leaving no blank space behind. When he’s done, he slides your rings - specially, your dating one - back on your fingers and kisses your palm.

he always uses rings, apart from the one you got for him when you moved together, that has both your names engraved inside. you’ve gifted him some for his birthday, and he always puts them on. he insists that keeping the rings you got for him on ihs fingers makes him feel you closer even if he's away. his index and ring finger are always occupied

his touch is subtle and tender, and his hands are always on you: cagging yours, resting on your lower back, above your shoulders or inside your pyjamas at night. he caresses with his whole palm, rubbing it slowly above your body.

suguru geto

suguru's hands are big, and they puzzle so amazingly with yours, as if they were made to hold you. usually, he wears no more rings than the one you got when you started officially dating, as he wants his fingers free to work. he wants to fill them with tattoos, tiny little ones that flow from his wrist up to his fingers. his hands are usually cold, especially when you're outside, and he likes to take you hand into his and put both inside his jacket's pocket, to warm them.

wears, usually, a chained bracelet, from which hangs your cute tiny first letter. he never takes it off, and proudly shows it to everyone. he's a sucker for necklaces, though, especially if they are for you.

suguru's hands are always around you, as well: he keeps your pinky tangled on his, his hand around your waist when you walk by his side, cupping your face when he kisses you.

kento nanami

kento's hands are elegant and strong, and his touch is so tender and subtle that you can't get enough of it. kento shows his love by acts of service: offers his hand to help you get into the car, cleans your tears away whenever you need it, buttons your clothes - and unbuttons them.-. he always keeps your hand on his while he drives, tangled while he changes gears.

it's not a big fan of jewelry, but he always wears a clock, specially when he works, and your ring, that shines on his finger, which matches with the one you wear.

his hands are always hot, and he never doubts to press them against your sore muscles after a long day or, in case your period hurts, against your belly. showering you on caresses is one of his favorite things to do on his free days.

toji fushiguro

toji's hands are big and veiny, and they show the long years of hard work he carries. they're strong and rough, but really warm when he holds yours. his hands are the perfect size to cup your face and grab your ass, as toji is very touchy - and possesive - towards the ones he loves.

never wears anything because he's too afraid to lose or break it on accident. he only wears a clock, one you got for him several years ago, when you freshly started, and he never takes it off. your initials are engraved on the metallic frame, and it has given him luck all this years.

he can't sleep if his hands aren't on your body, on your wais, back or sides, caressing or resting, squeezing or massaging. he cannot keep them quiet around you, slapping, grabbing, hugging. he's a touchy man, and it shows.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Fluffy Headcanons 🩶 | Hemut Zemo

Marvel Masterlist

Being in a relationship with Zemo would look like:

The man spoils you, to the point it's kinda suffocating. Considering this man is rich you can expect extravagant gifts on birthdays, anniversaries, and whenever he sees something and thinks of you. It doesn't have to be an occasion for Zemo to spend his bottomless pit of coin on you. 

Date night involving a dinner doesn't exactly mean you guys have to go out. This man can cook. He'll present you with the most gourmet meal you've ever seen, paired with a wine likely the cost of your life insurance plan, with candles lit and music flowing from the record player. "You've out done yourself once again, Helmut. It seems like I'm saying that every time we have dinner." "Well, darling, I only ensure the best for my love."

Zemo has several homes throughout the damn planet, so if you're ever feeling a change of scenery all you have to do is pick where you want to go. Paris, England, Rio, Sydney, Moscow, Los Angeles, Morocco, etc. You name it, Zemo has property there. You'll stay for weeks, maybe months, and sometimes if you like one more than the others, you'll live there for a few years and then move when the time feels right.....or when Zemo breaks the law again and now, you're on the run. 

You're the type of couple people stop and stare at. Zemo wouldn't consider himself a fashionista, but he likes to dress nice for any occasion--even grocery shopping--and that rubbed off on you. Often you'll be walking down the street and notice in your peripheral vision people pointing you out to their friends and admiring you guys from afar. "People are staring again." "Of course they are. They cannot believe they are seeing a living God/Goddess among them." 

If you have animals, it'll probably be a cat. Zemo gives off cat energy more so than dog and he'd be the type of cat person who says he dislike cats but then falls in love with one and it changes his perspective. How came to have cat likely was you feeding the neighborhood stray and taking it in, ignoring Zemo's refusal but then you catch him putting tuna on a plate and bringing home flea medicine.

Your house is covered in artwork because Zemo is a collector. There's not a single wall that is not straight out of a museum. Monet's, Picasso's, etc. Paintings and sculptures. If you ever wanted to make an exhibit in your house and have people pay to see it, you could for sure do it. 

When you have movie nights, it's basically you two analyzing every single detail and having a full-on discussion rather than watching the film. Especially if it's movies you've already seen and are rewatching. Zemo can't shut up, and you shove popcorn in your mouth while he vents about how stupid the main character was or how plot lacked consistency. If Zemo really liked a film, he'll actually shut up because he doesn't have anything to say. 

His love languages are acts of service and quality time. And you can add gifts into the mix because he loves to give you gifts. 

You two play chess a lot--It's one of the ways you have quality time together. Zemo is a master at chess and while you were weak in the beginning you quickly became a master yourself and now you two have matches lasting hours. 

Zemo has a photo album dedicated to you of all your dates and trips or special moments you shared. All taken on a film camera because while he does have hundreds of pictures of you on his phone, there's something personal and intimidate in capturing the beauty of you on film. 

You have matching jewelry you both wear and hardly ever take off. If you're married, of course you have the rings but even then, you both have matching bracelets or necklaces. It's probably got your names or initials engraved or has your birthstones. 

[bestdiamondjewelry1]

Types of Jewelry Repair Services for Worn-Out Pieces

People often spend a fortune on precious or semi-precious jewelry but forget to take care of them. Maintaining and caring for your jewelry is equally important. You can find many jewelers that offer post-purchase jewelry maintenance services. You must take your jewel to a reputable jeweler when it starts to wither.

[synity]

A Million Ways to Love You

What if…

What if you were loved so deeply, so fearlessly… that someone would set the world ablaze just to protect your peace?What if your name was the heartbeat of a man who ruled every room he walked into yet chose to build his entire world around you?What if your smile could melt his stress. what if he was just a man, madly in love with the way you laugh, the way you think, the way you simply exist? What if he was ready to give you the world but more than that, he gave you his?

Seungcheol was the kind of person who would burn the world down just to see you smile. He wasn’t the typical wealthy, spoiled heir, even though he could easily buy anything and everything. His heart, however, was reserved only for you.

Every moment he spent with you felt like a beautiful dream he never wanted to wake up from. He had more than enough money to buy lavish gifts, the finest jewelry, and all the designer clothes in the world, but none of it mattered as much as the way he could make you feel with a simple gesture.

One evening, after a long day of meetings and events, he came to your apartment with an arm full of bags. You were on the couch, wrapped in a cozy blanket, reading a book. He smiled softly as he set the bags down.

“You’ve been working so hard, my love,” he said as he approached you, cupping your face gently. “I wanted to spoil you a little.”

You raised an eyebrow playfully. “More than usual?”

“More than usual,” he confirmed, laughing softly.

He started unpacking the bags one by one the finest skincare, a luxurious cashmere sweater, a brand-new phone that you had been eyeing for weeks. But then, he pulled out a simple but beautiful gold locket, engraved with your initials. He handed it to you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

“This... this is just because I love you,” Seungcheol whispered. “You mean more to me than all the money in the world.”

You felt your heart swell. You couldn’t help but feel the warmth of his affection, not because of the lavish things he bought, but because of the thought and care behind them.

Later that night, after you’d gotten all dolled up with his gift, Seungcheol took you to a quiet little rooftop garden. The city was alive below you, but above, it was just the two of you, bathed in the soft glow of the stars.

He spread out a blanket, set out a basket with homemade food simple, but delicious. It was moments like this that made you feel the depth of his love. He was always treating you like royalty, but never more than in these quiet, intimate moments.

“Sometimes, I think the world should stop for us,” he whispered, leaning back on the blanket, his fingers gently grazing your own. “You’re my everything, Y/N. I’d burn the city down for you. I'd destroy the world if it meant you’d be safe and happy.”

You smiled softly, your heart aching with warmth. You leaned your head on his shoulder, your hands intertwined.

“You don’t have to do anything like that,” you murmured, “as long as you love me, you’ve already given me everything I need.”

He laughed softly, his voice full of affection. “I love you more than I could ever express with words. But I’ll show you in everything I do. You’ll never feel disrespected or unloved, not in my world.”

Seungcheol had always made sure that you knew how much you meant to him. His acts of service spoke louder than any word he could say. He made sure you had everything you needed from the best care in the world to being there when you needed someone to talk to.

If you had a bad day, he would be right there, giving you massages, cooking your favorite meals, telling you how amazing you were. Every word from him was full of affirmation. He would remind you of your worth, your beauty, your brilliance and the way he would touch you, gently, as if you were the most precious thing in the world, showed just how much he cared.

He would text you throughout the day, little reminders that he was thinking of you.

"You’re the most beautiful person I know.""I hope you’re taking care of yourself today, I’ll be home soon to pamper you.""Everything about you is perfect, and I’m so lucky to have you."

You would receive his messages with a smile, and sometimes, he would surprise you with a gift not because he felt obligated, but because he wanted to show you how much he treasured you. It could be a bouquet of your favorite flowers or a handwritten letter tucked inside a box of chocolates.

Seungcheol was wealthy, yes, but he never flaunted it. His money, his success none of it was about proving a point. It was all about providing, loving, and protecting the one person he cherished above everything else. And that person was you.

One night, after a long day of work, he invited you over to his penthouse. He was cooking dinner, a simple meal of pasta, his way of winding down. You walked into the kitchen, finding him humming to a song as he stirred a pot.

“Smells good in here,” you said, leaning against the counter.

“Only the best for you,” he replied, turning to flash you a smile. “After dinner, we’ll have a little movie night. Just you, me, and a bowl of popcorn, marshmallows, fruits, chips, and hot chocolate.”

You watched him for a moment, feeling your heart race. Even when the world demanded so much of him, even when he was working, creating, and conquering, he always made time for you. Simple moments like this with him in the kitchen, spoiling you with his care felt like the most precious treasure.

“Thank you for always making me feel like I’m the most important thing in your life,” you said softly, stepping closer to him.

Seungcheol turned to you, his eyes filled with nothing but warmth. He pulled you into his arms, kissing your forehead.

“Because you are, Y/N. You always will be. And I’ll spend every day showing you that.”

He wasn’t just rich in wealth, but rich in love. His life was about you. His world was built around you. He would always spoil you, always pamper you, always make you feel like the most important person in the world and, above all, he would never let anyone disrespect you.

Because to him, you were priceless.

[httpvomitello]

could you do some hc for shredder ?

Hello, hello! Since you didn't specify which Shredder you wanted, I decided to do the 2014 one. Hope you like it ~ ♡♡♡♡

Shredder Headcanons

Shredder is not the kind of man who openly expresses love or affection. His love is quiet, subtle, and deeply possessive. He sees his partner as someone who belongs in his world, no matter how dark or dangerous it is

His protective nature is overwhelming. He would never admit to being worried, but he keeps a constant watch on his lover’s safety, ensuring no harm ever comes to them. If someone threatens them? It’s game over for that person

Shredder struggles with vulnerability, even with his lover. Letting his guard down feels like a weakness, but on rare occasions, he’ll allow himself moments of quiet peace with them. These moments are his escape from the chaos of his life

He admires strength and determination in his partner. Whether they are physically strong, mentally resilient, or simply have an unshakable sense of self, it’s what draws him to them

His love language is often through acts of service. He’s not the type to give sweet words, but he’ll ensure his lover’s needs are met, sometimes even before they know they have them

Shredder isn’t a jealous lover in the typical sense, but he is fiercely territorial. He doesn’t like the idea of anyone getting too close to his partner and will make it clear that they are under his protection

He struggles with his partner questioning his choices or morality. He loves them deeply, but his sense of purpose often conflicts with their ideals. This can lead to some arguments between them

If his lover gets involved in his work or the Foot Clan, Shredder becomes even more protective. He doesn’t want them getting hurt but respects their choice to stand by his side—so long as they don’t disobey him

He’s not much for gifts, but when he does give one, it’s always meaningful. A piece of jewelry engraved with something personal, a rare artifact tied to their interests—everything he does has a purpose

Shredder doesn’t say “I love you” often, but when he does, it’s with an intensity that makes his feelings undeniable. To him, love is not just an emotion—it’s a commitment, a promise to protect and cherish them no matter what.

[sgrplumditz]

Simon falls for Johnny’s wife…

render by @ave661

a/n: I’ve been working on this for a hot minute, but ended up having it sit in my drafts for a couple months :(. these images were released and it definitely struck a chord in my delulu mind. hence why i decided to finish it..

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"I've got a bad feeling about this one, Johnny," she said to the Scott with a shaky breath. Their toddler clinging to his mother's leg while keeping a tight grip on his father's finger. His little hand too small to grip the entirety of his hand.

She couldn’t help but notice his worrisome sigh as he looked for the comforting words, "Eh, don't you worry, Darling. I always come back don't I?" he replied enthusiastically as he embraced her figure, his chin resting on the top of her head and his free hand caressing the back of his son’s head. Johnny always knew how to comfort her, but she couldn’t shake her nervousness and doubtful thoughts as he said goodbye to her husband and the father of her only child.

The memory of their final interaction as a family replayed in her head continuously as the rain created soft tapping noises on her black umbrella. The pattering of the water creating an almost hypnotizing effect on the new widow that kept her mind on the only aspect that was left of her late husband -- memories.

The toddler, a three-year-old boy, who like most of the time clung to his mother's body. Except this time he was fully embracing his mother, his little face placed into the crook of her neck as the pair stood together at the outdoor memorial service. She could only stare blankly at the urn that held the remains of the love of her life. Through her observant stare she took note of the simple, yet lovely set up of white roses, numerous awards and medals. All of which surrounded a framed photo of her Johnny — her favorite photo. A candid picture snapped of the blue eyed, dark haired man by his wife — the woman he kept a secret from his work life. Not out of shame, or malicious secrecy — Johnny loved his wife and his child. Love them so much that he couldn’t be bothered ever putting them in any sort of danger.

She could feel numerous pairs of eyes prying into her and her son as she stood amongst the medium sized crowd of individuals. She assumed all of them were teammates, Co-workers, or people simply paying their respects. she knew he was a highly decorated soldier, but he was far more than that. None of them knew about his personal life, and nobody knew about the widow and small boy he had left behind. Nobody but Captain John Price knew about Soap’s little family. In confidence, Soap had asked Price to maintain word of his wife and son under the rug of the sake of their safety. Although they were hidden, he always carried pieces of them with him wherever he went — attached to his dog tags were two small and silver flat pendants that had been engraved with his wife and son’s fingerprint, his wedding band usually accompanying them on the same chain whenever he was deployed.

When Johnny was home he never removed his ring. He would often complain about how difficult and stubborn the piece of jewelry was when it came time to remove it for work. Johnny thought he was as discrete as he could be when it came to protecting the two most important people in his life, but there was a certain masked individual who took notice of the tan line that marked his left ring finger, the sudden dark under eyes and disheveled appearance that started 3 years ago when they would meet early in the morning for briefings, and when he caught sight of a vomit stain decorating the left shoulder of his black t-shirt — he just wasn’t one to pry.

Those same observant eyes were glued to the grieving widow and the blue-eyed toddler.

Her mind was pulled out of thoughts as Price approached her with a warm and tender expression in his eyes. In his hands were the dog tags, along with his keepsakes of his beloveds and in a small box was the wedding band. All of his personal belongings packed neatly into a box. Price knew he didn’t have to say anything to her for her to know that he was paying his respects to Johnny’s wife. Prior to the memorial service she had made it clear to Price that she wanted him to keep his ashes. She found they would get at least some closure from releasing them.

As Price drew her small frame in for a polite hug her son grew restless in her arms. She knew he was too young to understand that his father was gone, but it was clear that he was uncomfortable and upset from the lack of him. "Mama, it's cold" he fussed as he smushed his face farther onto her neck, "and your feet are getting wet. You're gonna catch a cold". She gave Price an apologetic smile as she turned her attention to her son now — Price had taken it as a signal to retreat. He now stood with two other men.

She couldn't help but smile at the innocence and kindness that exuded from her son. She gently patted his back to soothe his discomfort, "How about we get out of here and get some lunch?" she tried to speak in her most joyful tone, but even then it was coated in sorrow. The boy did not catch on to her somber response, and instead eagerly nodded his head as he perked up to look at his mother. That is when she realized how similar their son, Samuel, looked to his father. He mirrored him in nearly every aspect -- the eye shape and color, the dark hair, and even the mannerisms were similar. This could all be a fragment of her imagination -- she thought. Maybe it was part of her grieving process. She missed him so much that she began to look for him and could only find him perfectly in their Sammie. She was so consumed by her thoughts, that she had not realized the single salty tear that slipped out of her eye and down her cheek. Samuel hated to see his mother cry, he quickly brought his tiny hands up to her cheek and wiped it away with a slightly heavy palm. Usually, he would verbally comfort her — as best as a toddler could do, but all he did was lean forward to place a gentle kiss on his mother's forehead, "This always makes you feel better when Daddy does it". Does -- in present tense.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

She could not tolerate being at the memorial service for much longer, and neither could Samuel. She had buckled him into his car seat and handed him a strawberry and banana squeezable fruit pack and crackers to ease his rumbling tummy in the meantime.

However, as she closed the car door and turned her back to face the crowd of people one last time she was instead met with a tall, burly build of a man. His face was hidden by a balaclava, leaving only his eyes on display. But the rest of his face was not necessary to note that he was also grieving. She noticed him within the crowd of the memorial service as well -- she assumed that was one of Johnny's friends, but did not bother to congregate with anyone since Johnny kept his personal life completely separate from his work life. And if she was being honest with herself, she did not have the emotional stamina to socialize with people that spent months out of the year with her late husband.

"Sorry. Can I help you with something?" she asked the brute man. She stared up at him with her eyes slightly shut to avoid water from getting into them.

"He’s Johnny’s" was his only reply. For a moment she only blinked and stared at him and noted the heavy English accent. The mention of her late husband’s name stung as she now was fighting back tears. Yes, he is Johnny's son. His pride and joy -- was what she wanted to say, but she could barely muster up the strength to nod her head.

She could tell that the individual's lips tightened into a line by the way the fabric of his mask slightly stretched. "My name is Simon. I was a friend of Johnny's..." he attempted to continue speaking, but all he did was nervously rub the back of his neck. "Johnny meant a lot to me, a real friend of mine..." he trailed off again.

She knew he was grieving, but it was a different type of pain. She sensed guilt within his sadness, but she knew better than to ask about any specifics. Her kind nature and maternal habits took over as she saw Simon struggling to find his words. For whatever reason this man decided to make himself emotionally uncomfortable to introduce himself, she figured there would be no harm in easing his mind.

She knew who Simon was since Johnny would bring up his friend "Ghost" every now and then "I know who you are" she smiled warmly trying to be the emotional rock between the two, "How about you join us for some lunch. I think Sammie would love to talk to and get to know his Uncle Ghost" she spoke eagerly in an attempt to lighten the mood -- something that was usually Johnny's role.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The three of them sat in a booth within a homely diner. The rain had completely let down at this point, the large drops of water hitting the roof of the diner with loud individual pats. Her hands were wrapped around a warm mug of coffee as she stared out the window watching blades of grass be temporarily smooshed by the inclement weather. The waitress had refilled her mug causing her gaze to turn towards her, her eyes softened and she gave the waitress a subtle nod to thank her. It was then that she realized that her son was wearing the ghost mask that was once on Simon. There was a glimmer of joy in Sam's eyes as he stood on the booth and gently hopped toward his mother to show her the "cool mask".

"I look so cool!" he exclaimed which only caused a chuckle to leave both her and Simon's mouths as the toddler's face was completely exposed through the eye hole on the mask -- his features obviously too small to fill the mask in the same manner. Upon hearing the slight laugh she turned to look at Simon, who she was surprised to see with dirty blonde hair. He was overall a handsome man, something that anyone would notice at first glance, but his eyes always conveyed a lot of emotion. Right now it was amusement tinged with pain as he stared at Sam. She knew he also noticed how strongly he resembles Johnny, and a part of her found comfort in knowing that she was not grieving alone. The way he looked at Sammie made her feel warm. She sensed that Simon knew Johnny deeper than most of the people at the memorial service — knowing that she found herself smiling at the thought of her being able to cherish Johnny’s memories with someone else.

The waitress had arrived with everyone's meals. Sam did not hesitate to dig into his plate. The toddler abruptly grabbed the bottle of syrup and drenched his pancakes in it. His careless behavior causing some of it to spill onto to the table, "Use your table manners please" she spoke sternly, but softly to the boy as she slipped him a napkin and a set of covered utensils.

"He looks just like him" he spoke in a gentle and respectful tone. His eyes rested on Sam -- who was now too focused on using his utensils properly to pay attention to the conversation happening in front of him.

Her hand wiped a strand of dark stray hair away from his forehead before she turned her attention toward Simon, who was now looking at her, "Yeah. Carried him for 9 months and he's got the nerve to look just like his father" she shrugged with a pained smile — her attempt to lighten the mood once again failing, "but I wouldn't have it any other way".

Simon took note of the sorrow hidden within the smile as his own face mirrored it out of empathy.

A few minutes had gone by and Samuel was still working on his meal, Simon had quickly eaten his, and she played with her food, tossing it around all over her plate in a desperate attempt to distract herself. How embarrassing would it be to break down at a family diner. "You should eat your lunch" he spoke. The deep voice dragging her out of her spiraling thoughts.

She glanced down to look at his empty plate and her contrastingly full one. Casually shrugging off his suggestion she set her fork down and let out a soft sigh, "I'll just take it to go. I don't really have an appetite at the moment" she spoke in a casual tone — too causal of a tone. She was normally a social person, the type to be able to engage in conversation with any type of person for hours. Her personality was magnetizing in the sense that she was an incredibly open minded person, which only made her a vessel for hundreds on conversations, all of different topics and tones — a quality that Johnny loved about her. She was one of the few that would keep up with his mindless thoughts and nonsense ideas. That is where she was at the moment. In her mind she was thinking about the woman she was before she got the gut wrenching knock at her door. The knock where she was told by Laswell and Price that her husband was gone. “Killed in Action” were the words they used. “He died saving the world” was something Price added.

Sure he had died saving the world, but her and her son’s was destroyed. She was never a selfish person, but in that moment she wished the world would burn if it meant he was in her arms instead of merely a memory. She hadn’t noticed until recently that tears were flooding her cheeks and spilling onto her meal. Simon had been observing her for a moment as she watched her fall into deep thought, but once he saw her tear stained face he acted quickly.

He swiftly took his wallet out of his pocket and placed a $50 bill on the table to cover their meals and a decent tip, “Come on” he spoke in a demanding voice, his tone remaining soft enough for her and Sam to remain calm. Sam was oblivious to his mother’s current state as he had now distracted himself with the crayons and the kids menu.

She looked at Simon as she attempted to regain her composure. It was long gone, she was an emotional mess at the diner — exactly what she was trying to avoid. “It’s alright.” he coo’d as he took Sam into his arm. With his free hand he guided her out of the booth and to the exit.

He took the initiative to get the mother and son home as soon as possible. The three of them approached her car, “Get in and take a few deep breaths, yeah?” he instructed while simultaneously holding the door open for her. Sam had been buckled into his car seat, which Simon struggled to figure out, but the toddler being incredibly intuitive had seen his mother and father do it hundreds of times and was able to talk Simon through it.

If that had happened under different circumstances she would have been able to congratulate Sam and let him know how proud she is of him, but she was far from being in that state of self awareness and state of mind.

She was a wreck in the passengers seat of her own car. She was heartbroken in the passengers seat of her own car. The severity of it all finally setting in making it nearly impossible for her to get ahold of herself.

Is she just exhausted from the days leading up to the funeral? A weeks worth of concealed emotions finally spilling out in front of her. She is definitely overwhelmed, but this time she subconsciously feels safe and secure enough to let go of her broken front.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Months had gone by since her meltdown in front of Simon, and he never once brought it up. He was well aware it wasn’t something she was proud of, nor did she want to talk about her grief. Simon had been coming around her and Samuel a couple times a week just to check in on the pair. He felt it was his responsibility to keep them safe now — the least he could do for his recently deceased friend. Everyday he spent with the two of them he realized why Soap had kept them a secret. They were truly too special to put into any risk; especially her. She was a walking breath of fresh air, not something anyone encounters often in their lifetime, especially not in their line of work and the lifestyle it supplies. Now it all made sense. Johnny was always the most eager to return home when they’d be out in the field, said he had “something special” waiting for him, but everyone would shrug it off.

He grew to understand Soap’s decision to keep his family hidden from the world he worked in.

Even though Simon was consumed in his own thoughts he was still able to be completely alert as the mother and son played on the playground.

Her laugh. It stripped him away from his spiraling memories and muses. His gaze snapped to her body on the floor covered in wood chips, she had clearly tripped and stumbled while playing with Samuel. She was laughing at her clumsiness, laughing at how attentive Samuel was to his mother as soon as she hit the cushioned floor, “Sammie, I’m okay” she soothed him as he clung to her — small and gentle laughs leaving her full lips as she reacted to the entire scenario.

That was the first time Simon had heard her laugh.The sound of her sweet tone intoxicating to him. He couldn’t get enough, is what he mentally told himself as he walked over to her to help get back on her feet. Her soft and polished hand nestled and firmly gripped onto his rough and calloused one as he pulled her off the ground.

Guilt lingered in his being upon realizing how much he liked being around her, but he needed to be there for them. The conflict was clear within him, and something he figures he’ll eventually learn to accept and move forward with. He knew he would have to set aside his audacious feelings to respect her and more importantly to respect Johnny. He would be there to protect them as much as she allowed him. He wasn’t planning on getting emotionally attached to the the pair, or her alone.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Later that same evening, Simon had made the decision to pay her and Sammie a visit. He stepped out of his car with a bag of Chinese takeout in his hand. Chinese food had become the only thing she would willingly eat ever since Johnny passed. A swift hand smoothing his plain black t-shirt before he began walking toward her front door, but as soon as his hand left his clothing he realized what he was doing. Bringing her favorite food to her and her son with no real reason to be seeing her, checking his appearance — something uncommon for the typically aloof man. A lingering hint of guilt settled in the pit of his stomach as he treaded towards the front door of her house. No, Simon was only supposed to be there for the mother and son duo as an aide during this severe loss. He felt that’s what he owed to Johnny since he felt partially responsible for his death. A cocktail of traumatic thoughts and memories invaded his mind . The grip on the take-out bag grew stronger, the same strength being felt in his chest as his heart pounded in its cavity

Upon reaching the front door he heard what sounded like a glass had broken — as if it had fallen off of a surface, which isn’t a big deal, she had a bad habit off leaving glasses on the edge of countertops and tables, but the yelp that followed only made Simon react in the most instinctive manner. He rushed inside the house and into the kitchen where she was found with a dish towel wrapped around her hand and a grimace on her face. Her nose scrunched in reaction to the pain.

Simon raised an eyebrow at her as he approached her with swift and long strides. His demeanor was urgent, alarmed and slightly panicked as his body was still in a reactive state from his memories, but how could she know that? She stared at him with the same expression, but she had more reason to. His breathing wasn’t heavy but it was slightly sporadic. At the same time, it was still controlled, his body was tense, but most significantly, his eyes looked panicked and unsettled. “I didn’t know you’d be visiting tonight. You should have let me know,” she spoke casually as she continued holding pressure on her fresh wound, “Or else I wouldn’t have-“ her words stopped flowing when Simon grabbed her hand and began to examine the brand-new cut. She watched his concerned expression lighten when he confirmed that the abrasion was small enough to heal on its own, “- let my mom take him for the weekend.” She finally completed her sentence when his large brown eyes met hers.

She knew exactly what was happening to him. She recognized the wide, alert eyes, uneven breathing, and tense mannerisms. This was a common occurrence that she witnessed Johnny experience. Her husband was gone, but there were constant reminders of him everywhere -- and one thing she hated seeing was Johnny struggling with his PTSD. Just like Johnny, she couldn't tolerate seeing Simon in the same condition.

Using her unharmed hand, she grabbed Simon's calloused one. Her movements were gentle and fluid as she guided their hands to the left side of her chest. With his palm now resting on her chest she looked into his eyes before speaking in a nurturing tone. "Slow and steady. Count it for me" she said as she placed her own hand over his chest. It was then that she noticed how hard and fast his heart pounded. "I’ll count yours until we match pace. One, two, three..."

Eventually, Simon counted with her, his heart rate slowing gradually as his mind remained distracted from the trauma and focused on her. On her beating heart, on her nurturing voice, on her full pink lips, on her long dark eyelashes, on her soft delicate hands. Her. His mind consumed by images of her, his newfound serenity.

Simon cannot help but feel guilty, but his pleasure and serene state strongly blinds him from this feelings. This is exactly what he didn’t want, but he can’t help but relish in it.

[heylittleriotact]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Thank you for the tag @preciouslittlebhaalbae - I love ember and I’m excited to see how this oneshot plays out! ♥️

I’m on vacation this week and not getting a whole lot of writing done, but here’s the first part of Chapter 20 of i heard people are dying to get in here.

🌱💚🌱💚🌱💚🌱

Three Months Later

A world-weary sigh found its way past Rook's lips as she studied the cremation paperwork in her hand.

1 x Ashen Pewter

3 x Ashen Pewter Miniature

2 x Sterling Silver Teardrop Pendant

1 x Sterling Silver Dog Tag Pendant

"Fucking hate filling jewelry..." she muttered, tossing the cremation contract onto the counter and lifting the small blue Rubbermaid container over to the hand towel that was spread out.

She found the cardboard boxes containing the urns taped shut and bearing the name of the deceased scribbled in Sharpie on the side: one big one, three little ones, and three small jewelry boxes.

Using a box cutter, she opened the largest box and pulled out the styrofoam prism that was packed tightly inside, gently laying it on the counter and lifting away one half to reveal the urn within. Snagging the contract again, she looked at the personalization field of the printed document.

Name: First, Last; D.O.B. - D.O.D.; 'Forever In Our Hearts'; Font: Elegant Script.

Her eyes went back and forth between the information on the paper and the front of the matte finish, grey-blue metal urn: it would have been checked over when the crem received it, but Rook had learned not to rely on other people's eyes when several-hundred-dollars worth of merchandise was on the table.

Satisfied that the manufacturer hadn't mistakenly engraved 'Arnold' instead of 'Ronald', Rook slipped the urn from the styrofoam and set about filling it: the lid was popped off the Rubbermaid to reveal the clear plastic bag of cremated remains within, sealed with a twist-tie, the scorched metal cremation tag resting against the backdrop of powdery grey and white skeletal remains.

It was Tuesday, and this urn was due to be received by the family the next day, along with three others that Becks hadn't seen fit to fill during the weekend when she covered the chapel for Rook's days off.

If there was one thing she'd learned in the months she'd been at Pemberly, it was that no one actually seemed to understand how fucking busy it actually was. For some reason because it wasn't as big as Hilldwell or Arbor Heights, it was automatically assumed that it didn't boast nearly the same volume of calls on a monthly basis - a fact that Rook took it upon herself to disprove one day when it wasn't insanely busy and sat down to calculate and average out the monthly calls that Pemberly got versus the amount that Hilldwell and Arbor Heights got. While Pemberly tailed both chapels by an average of thirty or so calls, it still averaged out to eighty-odd calls per month, which worked out to between two and three new calls per day, and nearly twenty per week.

That was a lot of dead people. A lot of grieving people coming through the doors. A lot of identifications and arrangements and obituaries and clothing drop-offs and urn pick ups.

And she was the only admin there.

There were no funeral attendants or directors unless there was a service or visitation scheduled, and half the attendants that ended up there were happy to sit in the lunchroom snacking on greasy hamburgers and fries during services instead of actually doing anything useful.

She had a housekeeper when she first moved, but Eloise had been on stress leave for over a month by then, and management seemed to think that along with every other aspect of the chapel, Rook surely had more than enough time to vacuum, mop, dust, shovel snow, and prepare coffee and cookies for arrangement meetings.

She glanced over her shoulder at the cremation container on a bier behind her and prayed that by the time her other two identifications were finished and she could move this one into a free visitation room, the person inside wouldn't be a mess of purge, which would be just her luck.

Emmrich was scheduled to come to the chapel for three o'clock arrangements, and she found herself hoping his graveside service at one would wrap up early enough so that he could come early - she felt a bit pathetic relying on him for help, but on a day like today, an extra set of hands would be extremely welcomed...

She pulled a fresh plastic bag from the drawer under the counter and arranged it inside the empty Ashen Pewter after sticking a label with the decedent's name, date of death, and cremation number to the bag itself and the bottom of the urn: if the urn ever went missing, or the bag of cremated remains was removed from the urn for whatever reason, this way the remains could be identified and returned to McDermott & Rafferty so someone could contact the family.

Having done this many times by now, Rook made short work of filling the main urn, the keepsakes, and was carefully spooning finely ground but gritty ash into the last of the pendants when she heard the side door in the garage slam, announcing the entrance of another employee.

"You made it!" She called to the adjacent space, rolling the threading of the small screw in the small puddle of blue thread-locker she'd squeezed onto a paper towel and using the small Allen wrench provided to negotiate the small metal piece into place on the back of the pendant. She gave it a couple of quick twists and squinted at the pendant, wiping away a bit of excess thread-locker and then setting it down with the others to dry. "I was wondering when you'd get here–" she negotiated around the cremation container in the middle of the room and entered the garage. "– how was the graveside?"

The welcome sight of Emmrich did not greet her in the garage, however, but rather the daft pink face of Derek, flanked by none other than... Elgar'nan?

Rook stiffened, immediately on the defensive the moment that vile cologne assaulted her nose.

What the fuck are these clowns doing here? They better not be fixing to fire me...

"Hello, Rook," Derek said, in his hollow yet amiable tone. "I'm giving Elgar'nan a tour of our facilities. Pemberly is our last stop - I’ll take Emmrich’s three o’clock arrangements since I’m already here.”

You mean you’ll sit in the arrangement office with the family for two hours and accomplish absolutely nothing and leave the rest for me to follow up with tomorrow?

Tagging: @xxnashiraxx @aldisobey @emmg @ollypopwrites @razildor