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skatesnstuff · 3 months

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three years | m. tkachuk

summary: it’s early july 2022 in sunny florida. ophelia hughes is finishing up work before heading down to michigan to spend the summer with her family and friends. but news of a trade deal with the calgary flames puts her world in a blender.

a.n. the first instalment of the hughessister x chucky!! this is gonna have absolutely no background at first but it’ll make since as you read. please be kind, and like and reblog if you like it <3

the florida sun was something ophelia would never get used to.

it slid inside her office at amerant bank arena, making it shine with sunlight. her skin shone with it like a golden goddess, warming it and reminding her of early morning sunrise walks with her youngest brother, luke. her hand moves to correct another photo as her mind wanders to her plans for the next two months: boat rides, tan lines, tiny bikinis, stolen kisses, watermelon running down the corners of mouths, her mother's home cooking.

a knock at her office door brings her out of her daydream. she turns her head to see who's there.

stan, their director of marketing, stands at the door with a small smile on his face.

"hey, phe. i just wanted to talk to you quick before you left for the next couple of months."

her smile falters a little and he's quick to put a reassuring hand to her shoulder.

"it's nothing bad, ophelia, i promise. it's about a trade. i need you to let the social media girls know we need a goodbye post for huby and weegs. they got traded this morning, it was just announced. would you send some photos to them?"

she nods. "yeah of course. do you need anything from me regarding the new guy?"

he shakes his head. "no, cerie can take care of it while you're away. he won't be here until later this week anyways and i want you to have some time with your family. have fun this summer, ophelia."

she smiles, wishing him the same as he leaves. she realizes she never even thought to ask who the new guy was.

cerie comes barreling through the door just as ophelia thinks she can go back to her actual job. “did you fucking hear? we traded jonny and weegs? for that guy? are we stupid?”

cerie was the other full time photographer for the panthers, and ophelia’s best friend in the whole world. they’d joined the team six months apart, after stan had realized the workload was too much for one person at a time. and cerie had just moved to florida from france and barely ever went home to her estranged family, so she was the perfect choice for when they needed a cover in the summer.

“hold on i’m confused. stan said the trade was good, you say it’s bad. who’d we get?” cerie opens her mouth to probably scream the name, but is cut of by a sharp three knocks on the door.

“come in!”

she’s expecting it to be sam or carter, those two were always on her ass about taking better photos. she didn’t have the heart to tell them it was because they were both extremely nonphotogenic. but it’s not either of those people.

“hi, sorry to interrupt, i was told to come see the senior photographer before she left.”

the voice knocks the air out of ophelia as she registers who it is, eyes widening. he realizes a split second later when he finally gets a good look at her.

“phe?”

she sets her jaw, staying seated and gazing up at the boy who had turned into a man since they last spoke three years ago. three years since that awful night in michigan, the fight, his departure from what she thought was the rest of her life. and now matthew tkachuk was standing in her office in sunny florida, a place she thought was a fresh start away from her parents and her brothers (mostly).

“hi, matthew.”

“you’re the senior photographer? how is it even remotely possible that i didn’t know that?”

she scoffs. “well, you were never really good at paying attention, especially to me. why did you need to see me?”

he looks stunned at her tone. she’s all business, he realizes. “i’m supposed to let you know i’m going back home until august and then i need my headshots done. i’ll be back on the 8th.”

“i won’t be here. cerie will do your headshots, and then i’ll proof them and upload them when i’m back on the 20th. anything else?”

he shakes his head, but he doesn't leave. "i'm going back to the lake house. first time in three years."

she finally looks over from her computer again. "good. your mom misses you."

he nods, a small smile on his face as he walks out the door and shuts it behind him. ophelia turns to her best friend, lets out a snort at the look on her face.

"stop looking at me like that, cerie."

"you know matthew tkachuk? what is wrong with you that you never thought to mention that before?"

ophelia shrugs, going back to the last photo she has to edit before she heads to the airport. "we kind of grew up together. we haven't spoken in over three years, though. had kind of a falling out just after i graduated from university."

cerie sits down beside her. "oh my god, phe. are you okay? and he's coming down to the lake house? how is that gonna go?"

phe clicks out of her computer, running her hands over her face with a groan. "it's gonna go like it always goes. his mom will yell at him for not being around a lot in the last three summers, his dad will make me tell him everything that the panthers are up to these days, and brady and taryn will simultaneously smack their brother and squeeze the living life out of me. matty being there won't be any different from the last time he was there three years ago."

"matty, huh?"

oh boy. "shut up."

"i'm just saying! the way you talk about him makes it seem like you guys were a little more than childhood best friends."

ophelia groans again and flips her off. "fuck off, cerie. i don't like to talk about it. what happened between us was embarassing and i would really rather not repeat it."

cerie's hands go up in surrender. "alright, alright. but you will tell me later, fleur. i know you will. now go to the airport, see your family, have some fun!! tell your brothers and your parents i said bonjour."

the two best friends hug tightly. "oh, i'm gonna miss you, cer. but i'm not telling you if quinn is single."

"ophelia-"

"no! no dating my brothers. they don't need your kind of crazy."

"bitch!" "asshole."

the laughter of both women could be heard from where matthew was still standing outside the office, waiting for ophelia to be done.

"matthew? why are you still out here?"

he shrugs, pushing off the wall he was leaning against. "i wanted to wait and see if you needed a ride to the airport."

her head cocks to the side. he had been less than caring when they were kids. three years had definitely changed something in him. "that would be nice actually. my bags are just in the closet over there."

he smiles and nods, carrying the bags when she grabs them. she could get used to this.

"holy shit, is this your car?"

he sold his truck, apparently, and replaced it with a fucking ferrari. of course he did.

"i was told when you move to florida you buy a fancy car."

"i don't know. i bought a jeep."

his laugh is contagious as they climb into his car, and when ophelia looks at him from his passenger seat she almost forgets everything he said the night they last spoke.

this was going to be an interesting summer.

a.n. this is a very special moment; the first (of hopefully many) fics of the hughessisterxmatthewtkachuk au!!! i am really proud of this one, it's one of the longest i've written thus far and i hope everyone loves it as much as i do. like and reblog as always, and stay safe in our dangerous world, lovlies <3, lily :)

taglist: @hockey-racing-fubol

#hockey #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #matthew tkachuk #hughes sister #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #florida panthers

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

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12 Lays of Kinkmas Masterlist | OT7

Pairing: OT7 x reader (see individual days for pairings)

Genre: holiday, smut, fluff (see individual days for specific genres)

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: sexual situations; see individual days for specific warnings

Word Count: 28K total (see individual days for specific wc)

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: see under read more cut for individual summaries

A/N: Happy holidays! I will be participating in the 12 Lays of Kinkmas this year! Starting on December 14, I will post a fic a day based on the prompts created by the brilliant @goodsoop! I'll link all of the stories here, below the cut.

Complete as of December 25! Happy holidays! ❄️

Read on for prompts, pairings, and summaries!

Day 1 - Taehyung x Reader: Your work rival has an unusual Secret Santa gift for you this year - posted Dec 14

Day 2 - Yoongi x Gender Neutral Reader: Gift wrapping with your boyfriend goes a little awry - posted Dec 15

Day 3 - Bi!Hoseok x Bi!Reader x Bi!Yoongi: Secrets come to light after your roommate spikes the eggnog - posted Dec 16

Day 4 - Jin x Reader: When your boyfriend won't behave at your annual office holiday party, you've no choice but to take matters into your own hands (sequel to All I Don't Want for Christmas is You!) - posted Dec 17 (also available in podcast format here!)

Day 5 - Hoseok x Reader: Your brother's best friend Hoseok really likes your cookies - posted Dec 18

Day 6 - Namjoon x Reader x Jungkook: Welcome to the Annual Woodpecker Holiday Games! Have a seat on Santa's lap and pick out your package - nice girls get one, but naughty girls get two! - posted Dec 19

Day 7 - Sub!Jungkook x Sub!Reader x Dom!Taehyung: Your boyfriend brings home a very special Christmas gift for you this year - his best friend Jungkook - posted Dec 20

Day 8 - Jimin x Reader x Jungkook x Yoongi: Everyone needs a helping hand now and then. But what are you to do when you have three friends in need and only two to give? - posted Dec 21

Day 9 - Spy!Namjoon x Spy!Reader: During a mission, you get caught in an embrace with your sworn enemy - posted Dec 22

Day 10 - Jimin x Nonbinary (AFAB) Reader: “You wanna fuck in the snow?!” - or, hooking up with your ex always leaves you cold. - posted Dec 23

Day 11 - Taehyung x Reader: Upon discovering that you and your boyfriend are planning on buying each other the same gift, you decide to try it on together first - posted Dec 24

Day 12 - Jin x Reader: Giving your fiancé his present in the early hours of Christmas morning - posted Dec 25

Masterlist ❄️ Find me on AO3 ❄️

#jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #yoongi smut #bts smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #bts fanfic #bts drabbles #12 lays of kinkmas #btscarnivalnet #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #possumswrite #ot7 fanfic #ot7 smut

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doctorprofessorsong · 1 year

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Destiel Fic Recs

It's that time of year where nobody knows what day it is or how they got there, so why not hide from your family/boss to read Destiel fics. And friends, this last list of 2022 may be the best so far.

The Leap by FriendofCarlotta @friendofcarlotta (Explicit, 82k words)

I don't know how to explain the way 91W lit up my brain like one of those old electricity balls at Spencer's but I thought I would never have that experience again until this fic came along. It's a very different, much softer story, but this fic has the 91W vibes that make you want to crunch on your own bones (vintage gay sadness is the tag we live in here). Its so deeply rooted in a sense of place and time. Dean and Cas are so clearly and immediately bonded and kept apart by circumstance. The longing y'all. The way they can't help but fall in love at the risk of their lives and freedom. It's gorgeous.

The fic is set in post WWII occupied Berlin in a divided Germany just before the wall goes up. Cas is a closeted police officer in East Berlin, trying his best to survive under a brutal dictatorship in an environment in which reporting your neighbors is not just encouraged, but expected. Dean is an American-born mechanic residing in West Berlin. For both of them, falling in love with a man could mean arrest, prosecution, and worse.

But they can't help the instant attraction between them. Neither of them is ready to walk away from the hope of a future together, as impossible of a dream as that is.

Beyond the 91W vibes, the thing about this fic is that the canon parallels are just so beautiful. Cas is expected to comply with a rigid hierarchy and to obey absolutely. Dean is trying his best to find optimism for those around him, and he has an irresistible early seasons charm and brashness that makes you fall instantly in love with him. And while there is period homophobia and oppression in this fic, FriendofCarlotta also pulls so much queer joy into the story. A slice of gorgeous community built against all odds and euphoria at finding love and family and shelter in the most hostile of places.

This story made me ugly cry (a true feat) and it's one of those stories you finish and consider turning back to Chapter 1 and reading it all over again. Seriously. Go read it then yell at me about it.

The Law of Equivalent Exchange by awed_frog @awed-frog (Mature, 60k)

This is the fic you have to read in one sitting because you don't want to be crushed by a falling desk like in Mystery Spot and never see the ending. It is gorgeous in a way that I think may have irrevocably changed me. A testament to love and devotion that left me absolutely breathless.

Cas, Angel of Tears, is assigned to watch over the lives of two brothers, tied together and experiencing hundreds of lifetimes of sorrow and joy in preparation for some mysterious Heavenly plan. His mission is to watch over a green-eyed boy, to guide him into each next life. The human doesn't know, doesn't remember (mostly), but it's impossible to ignore the growing bond between them. Cas finds himself inexorably changed by watching the many lives he experiences.

This is a canon fic (and tbh if you don't know canon the middle is going to confuse you because it's a reimagining of canon events with this context). That means awed-frog has somehow managed to make the crunchy Destiel scenes even more heart wrenching (extra crispy?).

This fic had me crying by Chapter 2. It's just a beautiful sweeping epic. And it does have a soft and beautiful landing. I will be thinking about it for awhile.

Märchen by tiamatv (Mature, 93k)

Fairy tale princess Dean Winchester. That's the delightful headline for this really fun and inventive fic. Dean of Winchester is the eldest prince but he lacks magic, making his brother the heir. What else do you do with a spare but promise to marry him off for political reasons, in this case to Michael, an Angel from a neighboring kingdom who lent his swords to Winchester to defeat the demons.

But Dean isn't gonna be some kept pretty thing, so he shocks everyone by saying no. Michael won't marry Dean without his consent, but that term is used very loosely, as angels do. So Dean is locked in a tower full of monsters where he is cursed to remain until he consents or finds his true love.

It's a tale as old as time (yes I said that), but there are some delightfully fresh elements. From Charlie the dragon princess (marry me, Charlie) to a sentient carnivorous hedge, the quirky characters make this fic impossible to put down. There are also some delightful genre choices such as an omnipotent narrator that make this fic feel comforting yet fresh.

In the end, you will be rooting for the angel knight and his prince to slay their inner demons.

A Crash Course in Computer Safety by followthattardis @debatchery (Explicit, 29k)

I love a good fusion and as a fan of the show Chuck, this Chuck Destiel AU absolutely slaps. If you are unfamiliar with the show, it's still an absolutely fun ride. Dean is stuck working at a Best Buy rip off as essentially a member of the Geek Squad. His life is in shambles after his best friend got him expelled from Stanford and stole his girlfriend, but he's making due.

That is until a mysterious email from his ex best friend throws him into a world of intrigue. Suddenly he's got the CIA and the NSA breathing down his neck. Even worse, he has to pretend to be dating the scorching hot CIA operative as a cover.

The Destiel feels are surprisingly potent for a mash-up, and the story is paced so well you won't want to put it down. Bonus points for perfect use of Henriksen.

Buckle up and cue up Short Skirt-Long Jacket by Cake.

The Shadow in the Corner by MalMuses @malmuses (Explicit, 47k)

I don't know that there are many fic writers who excel so thoroughly at classic romance as MalMuses. Her fics bring such a fantastic mix of horny, humor and softness. This one is no exception.

A Victorian steampunk story, this one is set in an alternative timeline where magic is known and the MOL openly fight monsters. Dean aka the Red Hand is tasked with a special investigation - to solve why a monster seems to be targeting the head of the agency's little brother, Castiel.

There's a good bit if mystery and intrigue, but the the headline for me was the delightful way Dean and Cas were both very aware of this instant connection and slowly orbiting each other as gravity pulled them closer. There's a softness to their relationship and it's largely external angst that keeps them apart as long as they are, but you never doubt that they are entirely gone for one another. Yes they suffer from perpetual horniness around each other, but its also very clear they genuinely like each other in a way that melted my cold dead heart.

In the end, a fun read with an exceptionally satisfying ending.

4:08 to Tombstone by Zuzeca (Explicit, 20k)

Cas is a Seraph with a mission: to save Dean Winchester, to retrieve the Michael Sword from Hell. But Dean perceives Hell not as it is, but instead as the wild west. Thrown into a bisexual cowboy fantasy, Cas has to navigate a dangerous escape while protecting this beautiful soul from those who would destroy it.

This fic is an absolute treasure. Amazing trueform angel descriptions, some gorgeous treatment of Dean’s Hell trauma, and a poignant bond between Dean and Cas that makes it a really sweet read (though mind the tags it gets dark). Its a really fun and novel take on the escape from Hell.

All That Remains by DoctorProfessorSong (Mature, 16k)

I am going to be annoying and self-rec here but I just released a fic I am super proud of. It's bittersweet and emotional and I poured my grief and parts of my soul into it. The tags are daunting but I do think it ends in a satisfying and hopeful place.

The stabfest story examines a canon divergent world where Dean is turned into a demon by the MOC, and Cas is forced to kill him to free him. He has a plan to save Dean, but it fails and Dean makes a deal with the Shadow to escape the Empty. The same deal as Cas. What follows is a reinterpretation of canon where both of them are unable to speak the truth because they risk losing it all.

It's a story about love and loss and hope. And perhaps most importantly it's a story about faith, not as some cheap fix-all, but as something that you hold in your heart in the darkest places.

Tag list below the cut. Let me know if you want to be tagged in future lists.

@varlysca @naturallyathief @greatbigbuggerer @fandoms-and-things @cascodedtech @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @deanwasalwaysbi @fellshish @valleydean @raspberry-tooth @the15yearhatecrime

#destiel fic recs #deancas fic recs #destiel fic rec #deancas fic rec #Destiel #deancas #spn fic recs #supernatural fic rec

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undermycoat · 10 months

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inspired by @izzyspussy’s prompt. hope u dont mind?? lol also tw for mention of james tartt. yknow how it is — also im thinking this takes place around the start of the season after the show ends 💚 but also (thanks nonny!) just pretend eras tour came out 2021 and barbie came out 2022 and not. now LOL

It starts as less than a handful of Tweets. Honestly, Jamie laughs at the first one, then scrolls by and completely misses the rest. And then he sees a group of lads donning West Ham merch pointing at him while on his morning run (sans Roy, who had to bow out due to a cold, the dick . . . Jamie's planning on picking him up breakfast) and whispering — but not quiet enough — that the Barbie has escaped his box. The Tweets (and comments and replies and DMs) appear more frequently after that.

The pictures of him in his pink tracksuit, tied to Roy’s bike, are passed around again. This time not by his loyal fans who begged for proper HD pics from him and thought he looked good as hell, but by the ones who call him Barbie and think his hair is blond and dumb and that he is just a dumb blond who isn’t even that good at football. At least that last bit could be easily refuted by his stats. He’s damn good at his job, and he knows it.

He doesn’t say anything about it, however, until they’re in the locker room after training, and Isaac huffs at something while looking at his phone. Jamie glances over to see him angling the screen toward him. “They’re callin’ you Barbie, bruv.”

Isaac is a really good friend, like, the best a guy could ask for. But Jamie kind of doesn’t want to think about this. “Yeah, I saw. It’s a compliment, innit? And kind of fittin’. I’m perfect, I’m everything. I am Barbie, ain’t I?”

At his easy dismissal, Isaac brightens up, grinning, and Jamie grins back. He finds the Tweet he was shown and posts a good selfie he took a few days ago, captioning it, I am everything. You wanna be Ken? It’s a bit stupid, but the insult is stupid too, so he thinks he’s allowed it.

The thing is — he wants to be unbothered by the nickname. The Barbie movie was fucking awesome, and though he’s still on thin ice with Keeley, even after their strictly-business trip to Brazil, they put aside their differences . . . that is, they put aside Jamie’s fuck-up to go and watch one of the screenings together. Yeah. It was fucking awesome. And he loves women. Like, major respect.

But the condemnations of the word are a knife’s edge away from a whiskey-tinged voice hissing soft and little bitch in his ear, and Jamie really can’t fucking deal with that right now. And he had gone and seen James in rehab, just for a couple hours, and he doesn’t regret going and seeing him, and he actually thinks it’s fucking mint the man’s getting help. He even enjoyed going through the old photos of his grandparents and James as a baby and even some of his own photos, when his mum looked a little less tired and he wasn’t afraid to smile too brightly. And in rehab, James is given limited Internet time, so the chances of him seeing the insults, seeing Jamie being called a girls’ toy, something pretty and pink, are small, and even if he does see, what can he do? They won’t just let him leave while obviously on some rampage.

It’s not like Jamie plans on going back to the man any time soon anyway. He’s not James Tartt’s anything. They just share a name. So what?

Jamie jumps at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He pockets his phone (his Quote Tweet is now at twenty thousand likes and counting), and when he turns, it’s Roy, staring at him with those impossibly dark eyes and wild brows that make them even darker.

“Hi, coach,” he says with a grin.

Roy grunts back.

Jamie stays still for another second before blinking. “Got any wisdom for me?”

The other guys have begun to clear out, and now it’s just them and Beard still in the coaches’ office. And Will, who seems to be some metaphor for God, the way he’s always around, not even lurking, just . . . around.

Finally, Roy says, “Good pass. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

It’s so unbearably Roy that it makes Jamie sick. It also suggests there’s more he’s not saying, but Jamie isn’t sure what. He doesn’t push, however, just salutes him. “‘Course, coach,” he leans back on his heels, “dark and early, yeah?”

Roy nods, then pivots and mechanically goes back to the office. Jamie watches him go before turning and gathering his things. As he packs, he can practically feel Roy’s eyes on his back, but he knows when he turns, both him and Beard will be staring down at things on their desks. Whatever.

Jamie doesn’t run into anyone on his way out, and he’s grateful, taking a breath when he gets in his car then speeding off. He feels itchy under his skin, like when his foot falls asleep but the sensation is all over his body, and he kind of regrets leaving Nelson Road because he thinks running a few extra laps up and down the pitch would soothe him, if only a little bit. Despite this, when he gets home, he just gets out of his car and goes inside. It’s not that he’s worried about a repeat of his solo jog that one morning. It’s just really hot outside, what with it being late July and all, and he just showered, like, thirty minutes ago.

Every time a notification goes off on his phone, his stomach flips in a really awful way. Jamie turns off his phone.

Maybe now that he’s said something, it’ll die down. Since he’s made it clear he’s not bothered by it, that he can take whatever they give, they’ll stop.

And then, the first match of the season, Jamie walks onto the pitch, and a familiar song starts up. It’s not his song — but it’s certainly for him.

“Are they singing . . . ‘Barbie Girl’?” Colin asks from behind him.

“And changing the pronoun to ‘he’,” Jan adds, helpful as ever.

Jamie catches sight of one of the cameras recording the match, grins and sticks out his tongue, and when he looks to the opposing fans’ side, he even gives a little bow. Just for them. He thinks about something Lasso said to him once about bullying, after he stopped being a dick to Nate and asked why Ted never stepped in. Acknowledging it almost always makes it worse. Sorry that Jamie had believed in the ‘almost’.

;

After getting booted from Keeley’s and after a dinner at a kebab place that Jamie knows is good because Roy didn’t actually make him sit and watch — he picked bits of lamb from the skewer and placed them on the napkin in front of Jamie without a word — it’s not unusual for him and Roy to get dinner together. Sometimes it’s just them at Roy’s, who’s a better cook than his mum but not better than Simon, and sometimes it’ll be at a pub, and sometimes they’ll go to a restaurant. It was with ruddy cheeks that Roy admitted the kebab shop was like his church, but Jamie wasn’t judging. He thinks he understood the ecstasy of St Theresa after a bite of that lamb.

Tonight, however, Roy drops Jamie off at his place, and then parks the car and follows him in.

“Uh,” Jamie says when Roy stands in the entryway, a hand behind his back, posture stiff, “can I help you?”

“Go to your room,” Roy replies, and Jamie’s eyes go wide, and he says, “O-kay, Daddy,” before he backtracks, but Roy is backtracking too. “I mean, go somewhere that isn’t behind me or the kitchen.”

Jamie’s mouth drops into an ‘o’. “Right. Okay. I’ll just go to the living room, then.”

Roy nods, and Jamie walks slowly to the couch, backwards so he can watch Roy watching him.

He manages to sit still on his couch for a good two minutes, listening to Roy clattering about his kitchen, before he hops up and goes to sit at his dining table instead. It’s there that he sees a paper bag, and it takes everything in him not to peek into it. At the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, Roy leans back from where he’d had his head stuck in Jamie’s fridge, and he turns to look back at Jamie, who smiles innocently at him. He even waggles his fingers in a wave for good measure.

Roy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Jamie thinks it’s fine, and he doesn’t think about how good it feels to be the one behind Roy Kent’s smile. Roy goes back to rummaging through the fridge.

Eventually, Jamie gets roped into helping out, but all his complaints are customary, and he thinks if he had allowed himself — if he had been allowed — to dream about domesticity, this is exactly how it would’ve been. Right down to the celebrity footballer. It’s kind of perfect.

Then, Jamie’s phone goes off.

It’s his news app, which he keeps forgetting to turn off the notifications for, and it irritates him every time, but especially when he actually clicks the notification ‘cause the story looks interesting, only to find out he’s somehow already used up his articles for the month, and would he please be willing to spare a few pounds every month for more? In theory, yes, he is willing. In practice . . . he has other places to put his money.

That being said, the irritation he feels then is nothing compared to the humiliation he feels now, reading the headline: This Barbie is a Footballer: AFC Richmond Jamie Tartt’s new song.

Roy is turned the other way, so luckily, he can’t see the way Jamie’s smile immediately drops from his face. This shit isn’t even important! It’s just some stupid fan war mess, the opponents’ fans trying to get in his head, and it’s not fucking working, alright? He doesn’t care. He’s just embarrassed that it’s apparently made the news. It’s really not a big deal.

When he looks up from his phone, Roy is looking at him. Jamie swallows.

“It’s nothin’,” he tells him. “Just some politician, saying some stupid thing. Sam sent it to me to rant.”

Roy nods, but he looks like he doesn’t believe him. Jamie’s voice had wavered in the middle, so he doesn’t believe himself either. But he still doesn’t budge, just leans back against the counter and waits for Roy to either turn away or say something in return. Roy turns away. Over his shoulder, he says, “I have something for you after we eat.”

“Whatever’s in the bag?” Jamie asks. Roy grunts. “Is it concert tickets? Am I goin’ to see Taylor fucking Swift? The bag’s just to throw me off, obviously.”

“Fuck no,” Roy’s response is, pun intended, swift and immediate. Jamie grins. “You’ll see later. Just . . . wait.”

Jamie groans. “Fine. But it better be good, since you got me all excited for the concert.”

Roy gives him a stern glare. Jamie puts his hands up, then gets back to washing the dishes they’re done using.

All throughout their meal, Jamie struggles to sit still, and his eyes, without fail, return to the bag. It becomes enough of a problem that Roy takes the bag and hides it in his lap, but Jamie’s no coward, so his gaze still wanders to — well.

“The quicker you finish eating, the sooner you get to see it,” Roy growls out around his own mouthful of salmon and quinoa (Jamie was surprised he had those things in his freezer and cupboard too, but it made a damn good meal, so he’s not complaining).

Jamie grows a lot more focussed after that, and he’s done within minutes — nay, seconds. Roy raises his eyebrows in approval. Jamie licks the leftover glaze for the salmon off his fork for good measure. Roy looks down at his plate.

Once Roy finishes eating, the paper bag makes its triumphant return, Roy setting it between them. He nods his head at it, and Jamie takes it quickly, before the other can change his mind and take it back.

He doesn’t expect what he pulls out, but he feels like he should. He looks between the Barbie and Roy, who’s staring at Jamie with a gaze so intense Jamie worries he might burn up from it. If this had been bestowed to him any time the year before, especially from Roy, he’d think it a continuation of the insult. But all he feels right now is laughter, the weight in his stomach turning into something bubbly and light that works its way up his throat and past his lips. Slowly — because he’s out of practice, the old fart — Roy begins to smile back.

The stupid fucking made-to-move soccer Barbie is even wearing an England kit, and when Jamie turns her around, he grins at the number and name on the back.

“You fucking dick,” he says, the words coming out as a hiss through his teeth, that’s how hard he’s grinning.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt,” Roy replies, and Jamie wishes he had a word to describe the look the other was sending him, but the best he can do is say how it makes him feel — really fucking good; like nothing could ever hurt him; like there is no one else in the world but the two of them; like he could go win the World Cup, the FA Cup, all the Leagues, every award in the football world, and not break a single sweat. It makes him feel a lot like he’s in love.

Roy’s not done: “You are everything. Who gives a shit if some pricks call you Barbie? You fucking own it, Jamie. You are every-fucking-thing, and they’re not even Ken.”

And Jamie will make fun of him for it later, that he’s more than aware of the movie’s tagline, but at the moment, he’s clutching the Barbie to his chest like a lifeline, and he feels a sting behind his eyes, like tears are threatening to spill, and his cheeks hurt with how hard he’s smiling.

Roy clears his throat. “Phoebe said there are ways you can change the hair, but . . . don’t use heat. It’s plastic. You can cut it or dye it fucking . . . walnut haze or whatever.”

Jamie doesn’t even correct him that it’s walnut mist. He’s close enough.

He gives the doll one last squeeze. “Thanks, Roy, I mean it.”

Roy doesn’t reply, just gives a grunt and nods his head. That’s alright too. Jamie looks down at the doll again, then leans back in his seat. He holds it up to his face, angles her head so they’re cheek-to-cheek more or less.

“Like twins, ain’t we?”

And Jamie wonders if maybe there were something in the food, or maybe in their drinks, because it seems like Roy can’t stop smiling either.

;

The opposing fans are at it again. Jamie sees Roy glance back at him and grins. He considers mouthing all good, coach, but he’s more interested in using one arm to wave and the other to hold his Barbie up the same way he had when it was just him and Roy, teeth bared all the while. The crowd goes wild, of course.

He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. He’s everything. Of course no one is going to think of him as just Ken — that’s just ridiculous.

in case you can’t tell “condemnations” is supposed to be “connotations”. ily jamieisms 💚 also i wrote this rly fast on my phone so sorry & now on ao3 if u'd prefer to read it there ✌️

#my writing #royjamie #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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afeelgoodblog · 2 years

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#061 - The Best News of Last Week - October 31, 2022

🎃 — Happy Halloween! Let’s read some good news to start the week!

1. A New Climate Reality Is Coming Into View — in just 5 years humanity has cut expected warming almost in half

Nice to see balance coming in on this stuff. The situation is *not good*, but the reporting and social focus until now has been “…and therefore you are doomed.” This causes apathy, just like when people say “all politicians are the same” when they are very clearly not.

We need to focus both on how bad things are, but also the solutions for how we get through this. They exist, and we can have them. It’s going to be a life-long fight, especially once you realize that certain people make a lot more money if you think you’re doomed.

2. Germany plans to legalise recreational cannabis

Germany’s coalition government has agreed on a plan to legalise recreational cannabis use among adults.

Possession of up to 30g (1oz) for personal use would be allowed. Licensed shops and pharmacies would sell it.

3. Hundreds of rare birds rescued from island cut off by Hurricane Ian

Volunteers helped transport the flock from a bird sanctuary to a temporary new home, where they’ll stay until bridge access can be restored to Pine Island.

The birds have been relying on food donated by wildlife officials since Hurricane Ian hit, but the supply of fruit, peanuts and other edibles would soon be hard to come by because of the downed bridge and the scarcity of gasoline on the island. In the hours before the storm, the sanctuary owners herded their flock of birds and packed them into their home to shield them from the ferocity of the elements.

4. A train passenger saw a woman waving for help. It was a hiker who’d been missing.

An injured hiker near Silverton, Colo., was rescued earlier this month after a train passenger spotted her from the window. She was frantically waving on the other side of a river, having just spent two days trapped in the wilderness with a broken leg.

The rider alerted the crew of the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge diesel engine №461, according to the San Juan County Office of Emergency Management. They then notified the train inspector, Delton Henry, who was in a motor car behind them.

5. Same-sex marriage is now legal in all of Mexico’s states

Lawmakers in the state of Tamaulipas voted Wednesday night to legalize same-sex marriages, becoming the last of Mexico’s 32 states to authorize such unions.

The measure to amend the state’s Civil Code passed with 23 votes in favor, 12 against and two abstentions, setting off cheers of “Yes, we can!” from supporters of the change.

6. North Expedition finds cache of cameras on remote Yukon glacier, 85 years after mountaineer left them behind

A DeVry “lunchbox” camera left behind on Mount Lucania in 1937. An expedition team recently uncovered the camera along with other artifacts stashed by legendary mountaineer Bradford Washburn 85 years ago

The team recovered a portion of Washburn’s cherished aerial F-8 camera — a format he would later become known for worldwide — as well as two motion picture cameras and old climbing gear, tents and cooking items. (That included part of a T-bone steak, Post noted — “They were eating pretty well out there, it appeared.”)

“It was just the full array of gear from what they were using in the 1930s,” said Post, a professional skier and mountain explorer.

7. Ray of joy: Nasa captures image of the sun ‘smiling’

That’s it for this week. If you liked this post you can support this newsletter with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

#best news of last week

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insertsparkleshere · 1 year

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Speak Now - Rosa Diaz x Reader

Summary: Rosa's wedding to Pimento doesn't go as planned. (Inspired by the Taylor Swift song of the same name, the bridge of which makes me absolutely feral).

Word Count: 902

Pronouns: None, but she/her reader intended

Published: 12/18/2022

Note: I totally didn't accidentally post this on my main what are you talking about

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gina is the only one who knows that you're in love with Rosa Diaz.

Frankly, you're surprised that she hasn't told anyone yet, but she kept your secret. Mostly because you didn't tell anyone when you found out that her and Charles had sex, but it counted.

Rosa's romance with Pimento had been...Interesting, to say the least. To you, it came out of nowhere, but you did your best not to pay attention to Rosa's love life. You wanted to stay sane and not-jealous, thank you very much.

But Pimento...They made sense together, you had to admit. You just hated him.

Jake and Charles still didn't get why, and neither did Hitchcock or Scully. You were pretty sure Amy had an idea, and Terry definitely had his suspicions. Holt had figured it out ages ago - you could tell - but he didn't say anything, which you were grateful for.

Until he did.

"(Y/L/N), see me in my office."

"Yes, Sir."

Rosa snickered. "Someone's in trouble."

"I'm sure it's nothing. Know Holt, I put a period when there should be a semicolon somewhere in my most recent bout of paperwork."

You step into Holt's office. "You wanted to see me?"

Holt stares at you, for a long moment. "Close the door."

"Okay..." You shut it.

"And the blinds. Santiago can read lips."

You frown, but do as he asks. "Is something wrong, Sir?"

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"Diaz and Pimento's wedding is next week. Your feelings for Diaz are...obvious. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sir. Whatever makes Rosa happy. And, right now, that's Pimento."

"Hm."

"What?"

"Have you considered telling her?"

"Once. But it's not meant to be. I've accepted that."

"You're a detective - act like it."

That was the moment that Rosa Diaz fell in love with you.

It was the third Halloween heist. And you were explaining your plan.

"I planted the idea of a Halloween Heist in your head three years ago. I wanted to have one, and I wanted to win. None of you have ever seen me get competitive, and I knew that Jake would obsess over this. Especially if he thought it was his idea.

"So, I gave you the idea for the Halloween Heist. And I waited, because I knew you'd take it into the many years to come. I didn't want to win the first one. And I considered winning the second, but the third seemed more poetic.

"All of you adore my baking, so, I decided that I would make a cake. For whoever won the third Halloween Heist. And then I said...What was it? 'It's not done yet, I wanted to make sure it was perfect.' And then I set myself up in the break room, already on Jake's team. He would want the cake, and he'd tell me to work on it while Charles guarded the briefcase, and Rosa went in to get it."

"What about Rosa?" Jake asked. "You could never betray her."

"You're right, Peralta, I couldn't. So, what do you think we did? You're a detective - act like it."

It was teasing, and off-handed, and you were riding on the high of victory, but it felt like Rosa's world had stopped.

"You were working together."

"Exactly. We made a great pair, don't you think, Rosa?"

"Yeah."

And you smiled, and Holt had looked over at Rosa, and she knew that he knew that she was completely screwed.

But Rosa knew that you didn't like her. So, she left it alone. And she met Pimento. And they got together. And it was stressful, and crazy, and every time he left, she found that she only ever wanted to talk to you.

But she ignored it, because emotions are for babies.

Or so Rosa told herself.

The day of the wedding came. You sat near the front, but behind someone, praying that no one would be able to see if you cried.

Your heart was shattering. But Rosa's happiness was more important than any pain you were feeling.

So, you tuned out for most of the ceremony. You didn't know if you could stand it.

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace."

There was a moment of silence.

There's my last chance. Your heart whispered.

You stood, hands shaking.

Hitchcock and Scully looked equally confused.

Realization was dawning on Charles's face.

Amy's eyes were wide.

Gina was smiling. She looked like she was about to laugh.

Terry looked worried.

Jake's eyes were bouncing from you to Pimento to Rosa and back again.

And Holt was neutral. You glanced over at him, and he nodded.

"This kind of wasn't what I thought was supposed to happen." You say quietly. "Right, um...I'm sorry. I just...I can't let you marry Pimento knowing that I could have said something and told you how I feel. And I didn't want to do this here, but I chickened out before, and...And now I'm here."

Rosa stepped off the pew, walking down the aisle towards you. You stepped into the aisle yourself, swallowing hard. The worst possible options raced through your mind.

Instead, she stopped inches away from you. "Hi."

"Hi." You whispered. "Sorry."

"Don't be." She leaned forward, kissing you softly. You froze, short-circuiting. Out of everything that could've happened, you hadn't expected this. "Let's go."

You nodded, and she took your hand, and you ran.

So glad you were around

When they said, "Speak Now."

#brooklun 99 #b99 #rosa diaz #rosa #jake peralta #halloween heist #hitchcock #scully #amy santiago #gina linetti #charles boyle #rosa diaz x reader #terry jeffords #raymond holt #rosa diaz x you #rosa diaz x yn

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beardedmrbean · 1 year

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WINCHESTER, Ohio (AP) — Seven law enforcement officers have sued rap artist Afroman, accusing him of improperly using footage from a police raid on his Ohio home last year in his music videos.

Four deputies, two sergeants and a detective with the Adams County Sheriff’s Office brought the suit earlier this month, claiming invasion of privacy. Other law enforcement officers who were involved in the raid are not named as plaintiffs.

The plaintiffs say the rapper, whose real name is Joseph Foreman, took footage of their faces obtained during the August 2022 raid and used it in music videos and social media posts without their consent. They say that has caused them “emotional distress, embarrassment, ridicule, loss of reputation and humiliation."

The plaintiffs are seeking all of Foreman’s profits from his use of their personas. That includes proceeds from the songs, music videos and live event tickets, as well as the promotion of Foreman’s Afroman brand, under which he sells beer, marijuana, T-shirts and other merchandise. They also seek a court injunction to take down all videos and posts containing their personas.

The suit names Foreman, his recording firm and a Texas-based media distribution company as defendants. In an Instagram post made Wednesday, Foreman vowed to countersue “for the undeniable damage this had on my clients, family, career and property.”

Law enforcement officers were acting on a warrant that stated probable cause existed that drugs and drug paraphernalia would be found on Foreman’s property and that trafficking and kidnapping had taken place there, authorities have said. Those suspicions turned out to be unfounded, though, and the raid failed to turn up probative criminal evidence. No charges were ever filed.

When cash seized during the raid was returned to Foreman, it appeared that hundreds of dollars were missing. A subsequent review by the state Bureau of Criminal Investigation determined that deputies had miscounted the amount seized during the raid itself.

Foreman is best known for his songs “Because I Got High” and “Crazy Rap,” which were both featured on his album “The Good Times." He is also known for his political activism and announced last December that he plans to run for president.

#nunyas news #not a lawyer but I do think he has a right to #film cops doing their job #expectation of privacy is the only thing I can think of #that may come into play here

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itsany62 · 1 year

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SteveTony - 22/23 favorites

Here are some of my favorite fics of 2022 and 2023 . Don't forget to leave kudos and nice comments in every fic!

...but the place where you belong by Mireille, 2k, Pre-Relationship, Fluff, Post-Avengers (2012).

Steve meets somebody very important to Tony, and makes a good impression. (Pre-relationship fluff.)

The Northern Cascades by resurrectedhippo, 81k, Grief/Mourning, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Civil War Fix-It, Road Trips.

“I’m asking.” Steve walks two steps forward and waits. Tony’s wide eyes track his movements. “If you’d like to come. Like you said, see the country. How it’s changed. How it keeps going forward.”

***

A post-Infinity War fix-it set three years after the Snap where Steve tries to outrun his grief. This time, Tony runs after him.

met my destiny (in quite a similar way) by ishipallthings, 1k, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Post-Avengers (2012), Getting Together.

“I’m in love with you.”

The spatula in Tony’s hand clatters to the floor with an audible thwack.

(In which Tony is incredulous, Steve is determined, and absolutely no pancakes are made for breakfast.)

Punitive Measures (Met your Match) by BladeoftheNebula, 19k, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Historical, Dom/sub Undertones.

“Gods, he’s a beast,” Tiberius said from beside him, and for a moment, Tony had forgotten he was there. “I don’t envy the omegas, he looks like he’d have a strong hand.”

When the village elders bring in someone from the outside to fairly administer justice in the community, the alphas leap at the chance to send their unruly omegas to the Flagellator.

Tiberius Stone can't understand why his omega keeps acting up so much.

by your hands or mine by apricity_and_soulshine, 1k, Alternate Universe - Western, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics.

A short little one-shot featuring protective parent Tony and equally as protective mate Steve.

•••

Steve looked comfortable where he had dozed off at his desk. His arms crossed over his chest, boots propped up lazily. His Stetson was tipped down to block out the light bleeding in through the windows of the Sheriff's office. Steve's peace, however, like most days, could only last so long before he was so very rudely startled from his mid-afternoon nap. He jolted awake at the shouting that ensued as Alexander Pierce clambered into the station, Tony hot on his tail. The sheriff barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his mate and the man who owned most of the town spitting curses and crude remarks at one another.

this love came back to me by meidui, 8k, Breaking Up & Making Up, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie).

It’s been five years.

Tony is softer than he remembers, in navy blue wool, silver in his hair and beard, laugh lines deeper around his eyes and mouth, holding onto his little girl. Steve thinks he must look rougher than Tony remembers, from the way Tony holds her tighter and steps back from him when he shuts the door of his car, as if looking for an escape.

As if he could get away from Steve.

The Best Laid Plans by ChocolateCapCookie, 3k, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Single Parent Tony Stark.

“Pete, we need to set dad up with Mr. Rogers!” said Harley excitedly. “Think about it, they’d be perfect for each other! Dad’s always so tired and stressed, he could use someone like Mr. Rogers to calm him down a bit. And I know Mr. Rogers is single, he’s always talking about it being just him and his dog…”

“Harley, this is a stupid idea,” Peter interrupted. “You don’t know that Mr. Rogers is into men. And even if he was, what do you want to do, lock them in a closet together?”

"Yes."

"No, Harley”

On Today's Agenda by Annie D (scaramouche), 779, Established Relationship, Mpreg.

Tony and Steve have been on a baby-making agenda, and Tony wants to get right back to it.

Today Was a Fairytale by iam93percentstardust, 2k, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Prince Tony Stark, Getting Together.

Today was a fairytale You've got a smile that takes me to another planet Every move you make everything you say is right Today was a fairytale

Steve gives Tony daisies.

And it’s… nice.

Tony’s suitors send him roses and exotic orchids and genetically modified blossoms that bloom in impossible colors no one could ever hope to find in nature. His mother makes sure there’s always a fresh bouquet of irises in his room—they usually come from her own garden, but he still doesn’t know how she manages to find them even in the middle of winter.

And Steve… Steve gives him daisies.

love me like a sinner by ArabellaAM, 5k, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Misunderstandings.

“So,” he says in the end, attracting Steve’s gaze towards him. “Is that everything you wanted?” It’s only then —when he swears he can feel Steve’s breath tickling his cheek— that he realizes how close they actually are. So close the hunger in those blue eyes is undeniable, just as it’s undeniable Steve is no longer looking at him in the eye, but rather to his lips. “Not really,” Steve says, voice raw and thick, as his eyes move quickly to Tony’s annular finger before returning to his lips. Tony tilts his head and asks, in a tone that sounds more like a dare, “then what are you waiting for?” Steve doesn’t actually answer; it’s Tony that makes an educated guess as he tries to grasp for air once Steve dips his head and drowns in his lips.

Or, Steve visits Tony after five years and it's not the salvation of the world he's after.

as long as you love me so by ohjustpeachy, 1k, Established Relationship, Snowed In, Christmas Fluff.

“For what it’s worth, this is not how I imagined our first Christmas going,” Steve groans from where he’s sitting on the floor. It’s hard wood, and Tony knows it simply cannot be comfortable sitting that way. Even super soldiers aren’t immune to backaches, surely, and after the day they’ve both had, Tony wants nothing more than to lay right there beside him, ice and snow and ruined Christmas and failed mission be damned.

Or, after a mission goes wrong, Steve and Tony find themselves snowed in at a cabin in the middle of nowhere. On Christmas Eve.

#stony #stevetony #superhusbands #superfamily #tony stark #steve rogers #mcu #avengers #marvel #my recs

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tropes-and-tales · 2 years

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You’re the Mark

Day 3: Glove Kink (Ray Merrimen x F!Reader)

(For the 2022 Kinktober event offered by @the-purity-pen. The original post and calendar/list can be found here.)

CW: Light angst (neglectful relationship); smut (fingering; shades of dominance). 18+ only.

Word Count: 3435

Requested by anonymous!

You aren’t subtle at all, and the guys notice it almost immediately.

Strike that: most of the guys notice it almost immediately. Bosco, Levoux. They get back from a heist, this time at a poorly-guarded nightclub. They immediately set into motion like clockwork: start unpacking the money, dousing it for dye packs, microwaving it, counting it out. They are still in their tactical gear, close-fitting black clothing, heavy boots, gloves.

And most of them notice. The guys watch you as you stare at Ray, the desire blatant in your expression. You run the cash through the counting machine, but your eyes track Ray around the room while you do.

Bosco, Levoux—they notice.

Ray does not.

No one would ever accuse Ray Merrimen of being a great boyfriend. He’s not even a very good one: his first love has always been the high of planning and executing a heist, and any woman has always been a distant second. He’s a closed-off man; his stint in the Marines and then in prison has left him with little ability to grow connections beyond the fraternal ones with his MARSOC and heist buddies.

Somehow you wriggled your way into his life. You have the everloving patience of a saint, always overlooking the benign neglect, overlooking when you come in a distant second to a new score.

Levoux and Bosco love Ray like a brother, so they help him out as best they can. They both have families, loved ones. They both know that having someone to go home to each night can help keep the demons at bay.

They also both know that even a woman like you, patient to a fault, will eventually grow weary and leave—so they help him out.

It’s Bosco who sidles over to Ray. Ray is lost in his usual post-score audit, when he mentally walks through each step after the fact, looks for slip-ups or unforeseen snags. It’s overkill. It’s more work than is necessary, especially when there are better things to do.

“Hey,” Bosco says, his voice low. “Why don’t you leave it? We’re almost done here.”

Ray shakes his head. “The diagrams were off. They had HVAC work done that changed the schematics of the back office.”

“Doesn’t matter. We got away clean.”

Ray opens his mouth to argue, but Bosco reaches past him, rolls up the diagrams of the club. “Leave it, man. Don’t you have better things to do?”

Ray shakes his head. Bosco snorts in disgust, and he jerks his chin in your direction.

“C’mon, Ray. Your girl has been eye-fucking you for the past half hour. She came here all dolled up in that cute little dress, waiting for you.”

Ray turns and glances over at you, catches your eye. You gift him with a smile, then turn and run a new stack of money through the counter.

“When was the last time you spent any time with her, huh?” Bosco continues, quiet so you don’t hear him. “We’re nearly done here. Why don’t we roll out and let you have some alone time?”

*****

Ray knows he’s a shitty boyfriend. He has analyzed it from all angles and has no fucking clue why you stick around.

In theory, he wants to be better. In theory, he knows that you’re the best thing to happen to him I a long time, maybe in his whole life. Levoux once pulled him aside at a cookout, gave him a speech about how rare a loyal woman was, how a guy had to hold onto a steadfast woman with both hands when he found her.

In practice, he has no experience in this sort of shit. He’s had girlfriends, obviously. He just always kept them at arm’s length, and it never hurt when they finally got tired and broke up with him. Ray Merrimen keeps his inner self walled off from everyone, and that never was an issue until now.

For the first time, he thinks it might hurt. If you got tired of his shitty boyfriend behavior and broke up to him, it might actually hurt him.

He keeps his inner self walled off, but you’ve breeched his defenses anyway.

He knows he absolutely has to do better.

The guys clear out, and it’s only you and Ray left in the garage. You’re running through the final few bundles of cash. He walks over to you, tosses his black beanie, his black leather gloves onto the table beside you. You look up at him with that sunny smile of yours. As if he hasn’t been neglecting you for weeks and weeks so that he could focus on this heist.

These stupid heists. For the first time, Ray Merriment starts to think maybe there’s something beyond planning and executing perfect robberies.

“You did really well,” you tell him. You glance down at the running tally you’ve been keeping. “Looks like you’ll come out to almost a half million, all told. Seems like a lot for a night club.”

“We targeted that club because they were running drugs too.”

You laugh. “Criminals stealing from criminals. Doesn’t that cancel out the crime, like multiplying two negative numbers?”

“I don’t feel bad about it, stealing from those assholes.”

He watches as you finish up, as you bundle up the last batch of bills. Bosco’s earlier comment is at the forefront of his mind, and Ray doesn’t miss the shy glances you give him out of the corner of your eye. Shy glances, but laced with obvious heat—the way you catch your lower lip between your teeth as you watch him.

You finish, put the final bundles of cash in the non-descript toolbox that will be loaded into the work truck and transported to the guy who launders it for them. Then you turn and fix him with that same smile.

“Ready to go?” you ask.

He shakes his head and stares back at you. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend, haven’t I?”

You sputter when you reply that no, he’s been fine…no, he’s been great, and Ray knows you’re being nice and lying to him.

“You can tell me the truth, you know. I want you to.”

You shrug, embarrassed. “I know you’ve been busy. Preoccupied. It’s fine.”

He shakes his head again. “It’s not fine. You deserve better.”

“I’m happy where I am, Ray.”

“You like waiting around on a career criminal who always puts you second?” He stares at you hard, half-wants you to wise up right in front of him. Dump him then and there and move on. You do deserve so much better: you are young and sunny and sweet and loyal, and anyone would be lucky to have you.

You cross your arms, and Ray is reminded that you are stubborn too—sweetly so.

“I’m happy where I am, Ray,” you repeat. “And I don’t mind waiting around for my career criminal boyfriend.” You tilt your head, sweep your gaze up him: from his combat boots to his short-cropped hair. “I like the way you look in your tactical gear.”

The corner of his mouth twitches in his version of a smile. “That so?”

“Yup.”

“You know, I’m a shitty boyfriend,” he says conversationally, and he turns back to the table where he tossed his gloves. “But I’m a fucking great criminal.”

You hum in interest, and Ray glances at you as he picks up his leather gloves. He pulls them on deliberately, one at a time.

Bosco was right: the lust in your expression is blatant. Your eyes get a heavy-lidded quality, and instead of biting your lip as you did before, your lips are parted as your breathing quickens. You watch his every move, watch his hands with obvious interest.

“The key to being a great criminal is intention.” He keeps the casual tone, but he stalks around the table towards you with purpose. Fixes you in his stare, and your breath hitches.

“It’s having a plan,” he adds. He stops and stands inches from you: he’s a full head taller, and he bends his head to look down at you. “It’s having a clear vision of what you want to do and then executing it.”

“What…” You stop, swallow audibly. “What do you want to do?”

He chuckles, reaches out one gloved hand and lays it gently along the side of your neck. “I can’t tell you. You’re the mark in this situation.”

“Oh.”

“You just have to wait until I do it.”

“O-okay.”

“All you have to do, baby, is tell me if it’s too much.” He lays his other hand on your waist. “You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, got it?”

“Got it.” Your voice is tight, strained. Even through the glove, he swears he can feel your hammering pulse in the side of your neck.

He dips his head lower, murmurs low in your ear. “Only problem is, I don’t have the schematics on you. You gonna take what I give you like a good girl? Or are you gonna be a problem?”

You breathe out unsteady, and he feels you shift against his light hold. “I’ll be good,” you whisper, and this is all new—the two of you have never played at anything like this, but Ray falls into this dominant persona too easily…and the want is shimmering off of you like heat off of asphalt. Being submissive must affect you similarly.

“What if it’s too much?”

“I’ll tell you to stop,” you answer.

“See?” He bends his head to you, nips lightly at the side of your neck. “Already doing so good for me.”

He moves the hand from your neck and puts it on your waist too, and then he turns you, walks you backwards until you bump into the table. He taps your hip, signals for you to hop up, and he guides you to sit on the edge of the table.

“First thing any good criminal does is get the lay of the land,” he says. “Learns the landscape.” He lays a gloved hand on your bare knee, places the other hand on your other knee. He presses on them, spreads your thighs and then slots himself between them.

He shifts one hand to cup the back of your neck, bending over as he towers over you. He steadies you, and he feels the barest bit of resistance against his hold. He turns the hand on your knee inward, strokes along the apex of your knee with the supple leather.

“Still okay?” he asks. He keeps his voice low, quiet. It’s his heist-voice, the same one he uses once the situation is under control and he needs people to pay attention to what he’s saying. “You gotta talk to me, baby.”

“Still okay.” You nod against his hand.

“You’ll tell me if you aren’t?”

“Yes.”

He wonders how it feels to you, the gloves touching you instead of his bare hands. It’s a curious sensation for him: desensitized to not feeling your soft skin, Ray is able to focus more on you. He takes in the way your breathing picks up, but you seem to be trying to hide it, seem to be concentrating on keeping calm.

He alternates: he skates his fingertips inch by inch against the inside of your thighs, switches from one leg to the other. When your breath starts to get a ragged quality to it, when he gets close to the sweet spot, he pulls away and starts over, this time with a firmer pressure. Then again, a third time, palming along your thighs, cupping the curves of your legs, letting you feel the seams of the leather.

“Seems like I’m taking too long, right?” he asks, still using his low heist-voice. “Criminals who get caught don’t take their time. They rush it. They get sloppy and miss some important point.”

You reach up, hook a hand around his elbow of the arm holding the back of your neck. “And you’ve not missed anything important?”

He hums in agreement. “Learned a lot of valuable intel.”

“Like what?”

“Like that it tickles when I use my fingertips really lightly. You want to jerk away but you stop yourself, because you are listening so well and being so good for me. But when I put my whole hand on you, when I grip your thigh with my entire hand, you press into it. You like that best. Being manhandled.”

To demonstrate, Ray does that—spreads his fingers wide, grips the inside of your thigh firmly. Presses that leg open wider, and he’s rewarded with your own fingers digging into his arm as you bite back a soft moan.

“Now, usually, I tell my marks to keep quiet.” He glances down at you, but your head is bent. He takes in the way your chest rises and falls, how hard you’re trying to keep your breathing even.

“But here, I think I’d rather hear you,” he continues. “Don’t you dare stop yourself from making noise. I wanna hear you.”

“Ray—”

“Don’t hold back for me. Got it?”

A beat, and he swears he can feel the heat rising from your face. “I got it.”

He lets his hand drift higher and higher, and even through the leather of the glove, he can feel the heat of you. He strokes you gently, the pad of his gloved hand rubbing you through the thin fabric of your panties as he cups your mound. You moan again, and you don’t try to stifle the sound this time.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You listen so well.”

He goes slow, leisurely. Takes his time. He owes you his time—this bit here and so much more—but this is where he can start. After all the nights you went to bed alone, all the moments he missed because he was laser-focused on the club heist…he owes it to you, with interest.

Your other hand snakes out, lightly grips the bicep of the arm touching you so carefully. He can feel your fingers circling him, the surprising strength in your grip. A reminder that you’re soft and pretty and can play at these submissive games, but there’s a force hidden away in you, a secret reserve of strength that he rarely sees because he’s rarely around.

You’re also selfless to a fault. Even now, neglected as you’ve been, you squeeze his bicep and whisper, voice ragged and hoarse, “what about you, Ray?”

“I don’t share details with the mark,” he replies with a smile. “But you’ve been so good…I guess I can tell you. You don’t worry about me at all. You worry about yourself, okay?”

“But—”

“I’m running the show here, so you kinda have to listen,” he interrupts.

“Okay, but—”

He tsks in mock disappointment. “And you were doing so well.” A beat. “I’m taking care of you right now. I’m gonna make a mess of you, then I’m gonna take you home and clean you up. And if you’re very, very good, I’ll make a mess of you again.”

You drop your head at that, breathe out a shaky sigh as you press your forehead to his chest. He chuckles again, drops a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Still with me?”

“….yes.”

He shifts his hand between your legs. He pushes the fabric of your panties aside, and he strokes his gloved finger through your folds, drawing a shaky groan from you. He can feel your heat through the leather, but he can’t feel if you’re wet—but he can guess that you are, judging by how easily his fingertip slides against you.

The thought of you soaking the black leather of his glove, your scent mingling with the faint smell of the cured leather…it makes him grow harder, his cock pressing against his pants. Already his glove is rendered useless for future heists, covered in your DNA, and the thought of repurposing them for these sorts of games makes his own breathing quicken.

Already he can thinks of other things to repurpose. An outfit of all black, the tactical gear that made you ogle him so openly. Maybe a length of rope to bind your wrists….

Ray twists his hand and pushes his index finger into you, steady, until it’s buried in you.

“Oh, god,” you groan and you aren’t quiet at all. Just as he told you.

He kisses the top of your head again. He pulls his finger out, plunges it back into you. Again and again, over and over.

“Like that? Fuck, I can hear how wet you are. You like getting finger-fucked on my gloves? Like soaking them? Ruining them?”

He adds a second finger, pushes both into you. He can feel how the gloves add the barest bit of girth to his fingers, make him just a shade bigger. He can feel the stretch of your pussy accommodating him. He stills for a moment, lets you adjust to him. To the size of his fingers and the seams along the gloves, the unique sensation of something other than his bare skin inside you.

When your tight grip on his bicep loosens a little, he curls his fingers inside you. It always takes him a moment, so he presses carefully, slowly. Presses against the inner walls of your pussy, and he waits until he hears the sharp intake of breath, hears the whimper as you cry out, “right there, f-fuck, Ray, right there.”

“Knew I’d find it,” he smirks as he presses firmer, rubs you there. “Even with the glove on.”

He can’t feel you the way he usually would. Every other sense heightening in its absence: the scent of your arousal, the sight of your head pressed against his chest. He can hear how wet you are, but he can also hear the way you whine out his name, the little moans you give when he presses his thumb against your clit. The way your breathing gets harsh, catching in your throat as he draws you closer and closer.

He can still feel some things, though. He can feel your hands gripping his arms, can feel your feet when you lock your ankles around his legs. He can also feel the subtle way you rock against the table, pushing back against his hand the barest little bit. You stay in the submissive role mostly, but your hips move almost unconsciously, chasing his plunging fingers.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he whispers, and his own voice is hoarse now. “You gonna ruin these gloves for good? Make such a mess that I have to clean you up with my mouth when we get home?”

“S-so close,” you pant out. “Feels so g-good, Ray.”

He presses his thumb against your clit, hard, and it pushes you over the edge. His sensation is dulled by the leather of the glove, but he can feel your orgasm still: the way your pussy grips him, ripples along the length of his fingers. He swears he can feel the rush of your cum, feel it soaking through the seam of the well-made gloves, can feel the barest bit of your arousal against his skin.

He releases his hold on the back of your neck and winds his arm around you. He pulls you close as you tremble through your orgasm; he mutters against the top of your head how fucking good you’ve been, how hot you are, letting him fuck you with his gloved fingers.

You finally calm. You unlock your ankles, you release his arms. Ray slips his fingers out of you, and he bites back his own groan to see the mess you’ve made: the black leather slick and shiny with your cum.

But he puts his other hand on your shoulder, and he pushes you away from him enough to finally see your face: it’s similarly wrecked—your eyes glassy, your lower lip shiny with spit where you’ve been worrying at it. He smiles to see it, and he dips his head to kiss you.

He tries to keep any heat out of it. He tries to make it sweet.

You grin up at him when he breaks away. “Good heist, Merrimen?”

“Got the goods, got away with it,” he replies, deadpan. “Pretty good heist.”

“You are one of the best.” You crane your head for another kiss, and he obliges, and he feels the heat behind it…

“But I believe you promised to clean up the mess you made,” you reply when you break away. “So…”

“Home?” he asks.

“Home,” you agree.

#tropes-and-tales #tppkinktober2022 #ray merrimen #ray merrimen x reader #ray merrimen imagine #den of thieves

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xbunny-k · 1 year

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The Actor & I: PART TWENTY-EIGHT – Anastasia? Are You Ok?

This is part TWENTY EIGHT of a very long, SLOW BURN series on Austin Butler and a Production Assistant on set of Elvis (2022).

Masterlist here!

Anything italicized is main character’s thoughts!

Warnings: *this next entry will discuss an abusive relationship (emotional and physical) can DM you a recap w/out that part of the story if you need!* Possessiveness, smidge of misogyny, Smut, Fluff, eventual Spoilers for Elvis (2022), language (If i missed anything, please comment so i can add!)

Tags: @manddor @pumkiinpasties @its-funny-til-its-not @karamelcoveredolicity @butlerstyles @feral4austinbutler @mirandastuckinthe80s @emilykolchivans @atombombbibunny @francescababy @starry-night-20 @yeetfack-blog @milaa24 @londonalozzy @xo-aurora @chaoticbilly @mamaspresley @sageskywalker @cryingabtab @readerloverlevy @jakiki94 @dancer4j @pennyroyalcreep (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Please, if you like this, share it, comment, like it and enjoy xx

The next few days at work fly by as I’m busy preparing to be out of office for over a week to travel to Memphis with Austin, Baz and a few other people from Baz’s team. By the time it’s Friday night, I regret making plans tonight with my friends, but it’ll be good to see them and decompress from work a bit. I change into a black dress after getting ready for the night with my friend Nicole. I’ve been drinking a bit while getting ready and decide to take some pictures and actually post on Instagram, which is not very on brand for me. I giggle posting the photos thinking they’re a bit risqué of me in a mini dress on the bed, but who cares.

A few hours later, we’re leaving dinner with a group of friends and head out to a club, which is not my thing at all, but it’s for our friend Justin’s birthday. Awhile after being on the dance floor and drinking a bit, I decide to sit down and check my phone. As soon as I see the notifications, I feel like I sober up a bit. 3 texts from Kelsey, she’s with us, why is she texting me? 5 texts from Austin, I….

I decide to open Kelsey’s texts first since it’s weird she’s texting me since she’s with us, but she runs over to me before I can read them. “Ana, did you see what I sent you?! Why is he commenting on your Instagram. Like he deleted it, but still,” she screams over the music pulsating through the club. “What,” I yell back at her. She points at my phone before sitting down next to me. Her texts look panicked starting with, “OMG!” to “ANA!!!” and then finally a screenshot of my Instagram. Austin had commented a red heart emoji. I feel myself blush but try to hide it from my best friend.

I then realize I had texts from Austin. I rush to open them but try to shield them from Kelsey who is right next to me.

“Ok, I went to the grocery store and you’re going to think I’m crazy for how much stuff I bought.”

“I know we’re hanging out tomorrow, but what are you up to tonight?” “Your post…you look really great.”

“Where are you headed tonight?”

“Sorry for all the texts, I started drinking with some friends and…I just wanted to talk to you.”

I smile at the last one because I too want to talk to him. I kinda miss him even though we spent a lot of time together this week… As I’m deep in thought about texting Austin back, I see the last person I would ever want to see. What is he doing here? I need out of here.

I feel Kelsey grab my arm and I look at her. It’s the look best friends know what it means right away, “No I’m not ok, we need to leave.” She nods and grabs her purse and I follow suit, but as we’re getting up, my ex, Brandon, approaches me and leans down whispering into my ear, “Oh hey, Anaaa. You look good.” I roll my eyes and nod as politely as I can while gripping onto Kelsey’s arm for dear life.

I look over at my friend Justin and yell over the music, “I’m sorry to leave early on your birthday, but we’re gonna head out!” He comes over and whispers in my ear, “I don’t know why he’s here; I don’t even know the last time I talked to him…” I shrug and hug him as I try to make my way out. Before I can get away from our table, Brandon comes up and tries to pull me away from Kelsey. Kelsey pulls me on the other side of her, placing herself between me and my ex as she shouts at him, “Not tonight, Brandon. Just leave her alone.” Apparently, this is loud enough to get a bouncer’s attention as a bouncer makes his way over to us. I make eye contact with the bouncer and then look at Brandon and it seems the bouncer understands as he goes to ask Brandon to leave.

Kelsey and I try to leave the area, but with a rope tying off the area, we get a little stuck. Brandon comes up behind me following the bouncer and says loudly for anyone to hear, “You look good for a slut. Anyone want an easy time? Look over here.” I try to hide myself out of embarrassment for the scene he’s causing and to hide my expression from Kelsey. I don’t want her to see he still has the ability to make me feel so small. We broke up a while ago after I finally realized he was being abusive to me and it’s taken me time to heal, but his words still hurt. Kelsey pulls me out and before I know it, we’re in an Uber headed to my place.

Once we get back to my place, she offers to come up, but I just tell her I’m tired and gonna go to sleep. I promise to text her the next day and then head upstairs. The minute I get inside I slide down the other side of the door and just burst into tears. It’s not so much what my ex was yelling, just the place it brought me back to. I work so hard to not think about my past and anything that happened with Brandon but seeing him and feeling his grip on my arm. I feel my phone vibrate in my bag and pull it out. It’s just Kelsey letting me know she got home and to call her if I need her. I gasp for breath in between tears and switch from my messages to the phone call screen and before I know it, I’m waiting for an answer.

Eventually, I hear Austin say, “Anastasia? Are you ok? It’s so late.” There’s no way he can’t hear my tears as he then just asks, “Are you at home?” I nod and realize he can’t see me nodding, but I cannot bring myself to stop crying as I just whimper out, “Yyy-es.”

He firmly responds, “I’m on my way, I’ll be there in 15 minutes, ok, Anastasia?”

In what feels like no time at all, Austin arrives to my apartment and softly knocks on the door. I’m still sitting on the floor right against the door, so I just slide up and open the door. Austin is in a t-shirt and sweat shorts and his face falls as soon as he sees me. “Oh, Anastasia, what’s wrong,” he asks as he walks in my apartment and closes the door behind him. He pulls me in immediately into a hug and whispers, “It’s okay, baby. Let’s get you to bed.” He kisses the top of my head and guides me to my room. “Do you wanna take your shoes off and I’ll get you something comfy to wear,” he asks, but I grab his arm. “Don’t go, please,” I quietly beg. I slide out of my heels and lay down on my bed. Austin sits in the space next to me and I can feel him looking at me trying to figure out what to do or say.

Ana, you need to say something. He isn’t your boyfriend, but you called him and begged him to come over.

I tune my thoughts out as I don’t have the energy to be thinking about work or what Austin actually is to me. I just needed my friend who would be there for me without question. Kelsey wouldn’t judge me, but she would just tell me to wisen up and not dwell on it. She’d be right, but I just need to let the emotions out. I can’t bottle up how much seeing my ex and feeling his skin on mine, even if just a brief second, hurt me. It took me back to such a dark place.

While my head is spinning, I realize Austin has gotten up from the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get you some water,” he says as he bends down to me and rubs my cheek softly with his thumb. I nod and he hurries out to my kitchen. I see him come back towards my bedroom, but he goes into my bathroom. I try to relax my mind and calm myself down to stop crying. I can feel my tears streaming down my face, but I finally am able to catch my breath and feel the sobbing stop.

Austin appears at my side crouched down facing me. He has some Tylenol and water held out for me, which I gladly take. He takes the water glass and offers me a make-up removing wipe, which makes me giggle. “There she is,” he smiles softly at me. I take the wipe from him and sit up a bit to take my make-up off. Once I’m done, he caresses my face with his thumb and says, “Much better.” I can feel more tears coming as I lay down again and I quietly ask, “Come lay down with me?” Austin with zero hesitation slides out of his shoes and is laying down opposite me. He wraps his one arm around me and uses the other to rub my arm. He quietly asks, “Anastasia, do you wanna tell me what happened?”

I sigh and quietly say, “No, but I feel like I owe you an explanation.” He turns me around so I’m facing him, and he says, “You don’t owe me anything. We can just lay here until you fall asleep, ok?” I nod and stay laying facing Austin. I run my fingers on his chest over his t-shirt. His eyes darken quickly, but as I look up into them, they soften back to their normal icy blue and he softly says, “Everything is gonna be ok, Anastasia. I got you, just go to sleep, baby.” I don’t have the energy to fight him on calling me baby, but I can feel my body react for a moment. I get so caught up in my thoughts…

He’s just a friend… but why is he calling me baby? Why did he rush here in the middle of the night? I was ignoring his texts and he came to me immediately when I called… Why is he looking at me like that? I just want to kiss him…

In order to stop from thinking so much and doing something I regret; I decide to open up to him. “I was out with some friends and my ex was at the same place,” I start to say quietly. Austin’s eyes look at me with such focus, like he isn’t just focused on what I’m saying, but how I’m saying it. “We broke up on pretty bad terms… at first, he was my everything. My first boyfriend and my first…well everything. Brandon started out great, but then he was a bit controlling and would lose his temper with me, but just get angry. Then he’d start grabbing me too hard or shoving me, but he’d always apologize like it was an accident,” I continue, and I look away from his eyes. “I remember the first time Brandon hit me, he apologized immediately. I thought I was done right away. But he was so apologetic I took him back a few days later. But then he just kept doing it. He’d hit me or shove me, apologize and we’d move on before he did it again. He started just demanding I stop going out with friends and I really never saw them for months. I had just turned 19 and he took everyone away from me,” I say as I look back up at him.

Austin’s eyes are locked on me, and I can see anger in them. He looks so hurt and I feel bad for unloading this on him. I think he can sense my thoughts as he says, “Anastasia, I’m so sorry. You don’t have to keep going if you don’t feel comfortable. I’m here for you, no matter what. You’re at home. You’re safe. I have you.” I look down from his eyes that are locked into mine and he reaches down and grabs my hand. I look back up at him and he quietly says, “I’m always going to make sure you feel safe. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stop you from seeing him tonight.” I squeeze his hand and say, “I want you to know everything. It’s important.” He looks deep in my eyes, like he’s trying to get in my head to know what I’m thinking. He nods and I continue, “I was in class one day and ran into Kelsey, who immediately knew something was off. I didn’t look like myself, I was weak and just drained of any visible life, pale, thin and just no light in my eyes. It was summer, but I was wearing long sleeves and pants. She got it out of me that he was just hurting me, but she didn’t need to know anymore.”

I start to cry and Austin pulls me into him as he strokes my hair and says, “Anastasia, you’re so brave. You’re out of that time in your life and you’re so loved. You have everyone here for you and you’re safe.” I start to cry even harder. He barely knows me, but knows what I need to hear to be comforted… I bring myself to stop crying and continue, “I spent months living with Kelsey after she helped me just load up my stuff and never even say anything to Brandon other than ‘I’m leaving.’ I changed my number, stopped using social media and just learned to be myself again… My friend group, which was also his friend group, stopped hanging out with him. I really had a clean break from him once I regained my sense of self.”

Austin looks deep into my eyes as he pulls me out of our embrace and says, “I’m so happy you were able to do that for yourself. It’s why you so strong willed, you can really do anything you set your mind to. It’s why I like being around you so much. Anastasia, thank you for telling me.” He pulls me back into him and I grip my arms around him as we’re laying in my bed, on top of the covers and facing one another. I feel so much lighter after telling him all this; like he really knows the real me now. It’s ugly, but it’s what made me the person I am. “He’s the only person I’ve been with and just hearing him say things about me… just really affected me and I just had to come home,” I whisper, and I can feel his body tense up. Austin says, “Anastasia, don’t worry about anything he has to say. I’ve got you.”

#austin butler elvis #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler x reader #austin butler #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #fan fiction #fan fic

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cindylouwho-2 · 21 days

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RECENT ECOMMERCE NEWS (INCLUDING ETSY), Early May 2024

Welcome to my latest coverage of Etsy and other ecommerce news, early May edition. I am off for a short vacation Monday, so thought it best to get this report out now.

Want to get shorter versions of these reports but more frequently? Become a paying member of my Patreon. I will be adding new resources and content there once I get back from my trip.

Want to get these posts via email? Sign up here.

TOP NEWS & ARTICLES

Etsy’s first quarter financial report for 2024 was not great, but that was expected. The real news is that they no longer expect the current quarter to be much better [Tumblr post by me]. Also, they are still planning on changing search.

Canadian shipping service Chit Chats is shutting a dozen offices in 4 provinces, starting April 29 through May 15 [LinkedIn Post by me]. It appears they expanded too fast and have much more competition now than when they first opened, so the additional locations were not very busy. Some may be replaced by drop off points. There is a thread in the Etsy forum with more info.

Etsy CEO Josh Silverman made over $16 million in 2023, roughly the same amount as 2022 [pdf; see page 56]. Almost all of that was stock options. Chief Financial Officer Rachel Glaser made over $8 million, as did Chief Technology Officer Rachana Kumar.

ETSY NEWS

Etsy buyers are receiving emails asking them to rate their recent purchases, as discussed in this Etsy forum thread. The owner of Garden Path Rosaries at Peter's Square Marketplace sent me the screenshot below, which popped up after they clicked the email to confirm they had received the order.

These questions may be connected to details popping in recent reviews, even though the popups and emails say the feedback “won’t be shared with the seller or shown on Etsy.” See this screenshot from Kathie from PillowDetail’s shop:

It’s also possible these review details come from a different test, or even from the act of leaving a review, as some buyers report getting similar options when they leave public reviews. [As is usual with Etsy, they change a lot of things without explaining how any of it works.]

Etsy seems to have deleted most Messages in seller spam folders without any warning, and some shop owners are not happy about it. [The only one I have left is a recent Message that Etsy moved there erroneously.]

Etsy is still promoting its TurboTax discount to Canadian sellers - even though the integration only works in the US. [post by me on LinkedIn]

Canadians no longer need to have a Canada Post Solutions for Small Business account to use Etsy Labels - and the discount for Tracked Packet to the US is very good. [Patreon post by me]

NBC News calls out Etsy for AI crochet patterns that don’t work. While the article blames the images being made by AI, I’ll bet the patterns were too.

Despite this type of criticism over allowing AI items to be sold on the site, Silverman told a recent investors conference that he is still all in on AI in many forms. “Many sellers on the platform are generating content in collaboration with a machine, Silverman said, and a large amount of new item listings are generated in collaboration with GenAI. But given that Etsy is a platform for handmade goods, the boundary between man-made and machine-made required some clarification. “We had some discussions about, is that handmade or not? Does that belong on Etsy? And we decided, ultimately, that it was—in the same way that electronic dance music, the most popular form of music in the world right now, is collaborations between humans and synthesizers,” said Silverman. “I think this collaboration between humans and machines to generate art is actually going to be the next frontier.” He did admit that the search chatbot tested on the app many months back was poorly received. [The article is really worth reading, in my opinion.]

Gift Mode has now launched worldwide [text with embedded video], and gift teasers will soon include videos from the giver. The teasers have been growing in popularity, with 7% of gift orders in March using the teaser.

The Marketplace Trends report for spring & summer is out, and apparently there has been a 266% increase in searches for divorce gifts. Even more impressive is a ”2,159% YoY increase in searches on Etsy for lawn games”. Skim through the whole report if you want to know what is trending up.

Etsy released 2 different “impact goal” posts on Earth Day, which included Reverb and Depop. While you can read a lot more detail in the 2023 Integrated Annual Report [pdf], here are the individual posts:

Environmental impact goals: reduced carbon emissions, on track to be net zero carbon emissions by 2030. “[S]ellers created 108 million listings with circular attributes on the Etsy, Depop and Reverb marketplaces, including vintage, upcycled, used and secondhand items.” The document mentions increasing Disaster Response Grants (for U.S sellers only) and “open source resource guides that help makers access climate-related disaster information and funding.” 2024 goals are listed.

Social impact goals: discusses gender, race and disability representation in its workforce, and funding for “creative entrepreneurs from low-income and underserved communities.”

Related to the environmental impact goals, Etsy published a disaster guide (mostly US-focussed), and put out a (very short) funding guide for US sellers at the same time.

ECOMMERCE NEWS (minus social media)

Amazon

Amazon added over 5 million sellers since 2018, 2 million of them in the US. That's only about 100,000 more than Etsy in the same time period, comparing 4th quarter 2018 to the end of 2023.

There are now Amazon shoppable livestreams on Prime Video and Freevee. “Amazon Live’s FAST channel will feature 24/7 programming from popular creators and celebrities, such as reality TV stars …Brands like Tastemade and The Bump will also host streams to sell their products.”

Amazon drone delivery is ending in California, but continues in Texas and will soon start in Arizona.

Amazon’s first quarter was great, but note that ⅔ of its operating income comes from the cloud services, not ecommerce.

BigCommerce

BigCommerce announced many new features, including more country localization, new builder options, syncing inventory through Feedonomics, and of course, AI.

eBay

eBay is now testing an Explore feature to put together a clothing shopping feed with AI. I don’t have this in Canada yet, but it has been spotted in the US and the UK, and the links in the article do work in Canada. I selected a bunch of women’s options and was presented with a feed that had a lot of men’s clothing, so this appears to work about as well as Etsy’s Gift Mode, which Liz Morton compared it to.

eBay’s sales and revenue were both up slightly in the first quarter, while active buyers were down 1% from the year before.

Shopify

Shopify is reorganizing Support, in part to inject more AI into the process. Employees are worried about possible layoffs.

Walmart

Cart.com is now helping new sellers start on Walmart Marketplace, and is offering multi-channel syncing for existing businesses as well.

All Other Marketplaces

Vinted has turned a profit for the first time, riding the trend of interest in secondhand clothing.

Ruby Lane will be increasing its shop fee to $45 from $25 as of June 1, and will be removing the rebate for listing 15 new items monthly.

Bonanza’s annual Spring sale runs May 8th to 15th. The coupon code sellers must activate is SpringSale2024.

The EU has forced Shein under the umbrella of the Digital Services Act.”The European Commission specifically noted new requirements for Shein around illegal products on its site. The company will have four months to submit a risk assessment report and will need to introduce mitigation measures against “the listing and sale of counterfeit goods, unsafe products, and items that infringe on intellectual property rights.”

Shipping

Labels service Shippo is introducing paid tiers for any businesses printing over 30 labels a month through its service. Anyone printing 30-200 labels a month will be charged $19 monthly; under that is free.

Canadian customers - who are already being charged 5 cents USD per label - are also affected, although we get fewer features and carriers [Shippo just confirmed this via support ticket.] Sounds like there are cheaper options for most of us elsewhere now.

#ecommerce #EtsySellerNews #etsy #microbusiness #cindylouwho2 #EtsyNews

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vendetta-if · 1 year

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Hey guys 👋 I just notice that I should probably start making posts updating on the exclusive content that I made on Patreon whenever I finished them 😅

So, I decided to make two posts to let you guys know all of the exclusive side stories and the spicy ones that I currently have up on Patreon so far. In this post, I'll exclusively focus on all the side stories and give out a little sneak peek of each of them. For the spicy side stories and Q&A sneak peeks, click here.

If you guys are interested in supporting me and getting access to all of these exclusive side contents, please check out my Patreon page 🥰💖 I currently have a monthly-subscription-based payment set, so you don't have to worry about getting charged twice when subscribing near the end of the month.

Other than weekly progress update posts, here are currently all the exclusive side stories that are up by the end of November 2022:

Vendetta Halloween Interactive Side Story

Around 19K words, it's a really cute and wholesome and fluffy story about little MC, Ash, and Rin celebrating Halloween together with Viktor, Takashi, Luka, and Cara. You'll have three Halloween costumes to choose from, which will also affect Ash's and Viktor's costumes. There will also be four different activities to choose from for the Halloween Fair and a bunch of smaller interaction options!

Check out the little snippet/sneak peek of the story in this post!

Dead Man Walking (Part 1 & Part 2)

An angsty AU where MC is the one who dies instead of Viktor that night in the alley. Written in Viktor's POV. Around 6K words long.

You’re not sure how you even got into this mess in the first place, but you should’ve known that this day would come, sooner or later. You can only run away for so long before the consequences of everything you’ve done catch up to you.

Any other day, or maybe when you were younger, you would have turned back and tried to face them head-on. But now, you have something special—oh, so very special and dear to you—and you won’t risk harming him; his safety is the only thing on your mind right now.

You are running through a maze of deserted and dank alleyways on a cold winter night, and beside you is your son, his little hand is engulfed in your bigger one as you hold on tight. Sasha has just turned ten today and even though this might not be the best birthday he has had so far, you are planning to make it up to him in the next few days during the weekend.

Vodka Misadventure (Part 1 & Part 2)

A wholesome side story featuring young MC and Ash regarding the vodka incident that they talked about at the party in Chapter 2 😂 Written in MC's POV and a little part in Ash's POV. 6.5K words long.

It’s far from your first time stepping foot in his office. You’ve spent a lot of time with Ash here when you were both younger, hanging out with each other while Uncle Luka worked on some stuff on his desk. It’s certainly a spacious office with a plush carpet and sleek and elegant furniture. There is no window in the room, but it doesn’t feel suffocating at all.

In one corner of the room, there is a full set of sofas, armchairs, and a low and wide coffee table made out of black marble. It’s where you often spent time with Ash and also where your Uncle would receive guests. You know your uncle always makes sure to lock his office whenever he’s not using it and the fact that you’re both in here right now without him even knowing makes you nervous a bit as if you’ve done a crime.

“We have tunnels?” you say in awe.

“Cool, right? Uncle Luka showed this one to me, like a few days ago. He said he’ll give us a thorough tour soon. Said it’ll be useful for us to know, in case of… Well, never mind that. I still have one more thing to show you!” Ash gushes.

They set down the pizza box on the coffee table before moving towards Uncle Luka’s big desk and you trail after them gingerly.

A Fateful Encounter

A Yvette backstory on how she first met Viktor. 6K words long.

Yvette’s heart rate skyrockets as panic starts to sink in. Thankfully, she had taken advantage of the man’s momentary distraction to grab her phone. She quickly taps it to unlock it, only to find out that the phone is… dead. The electricity…

“Well, I think it’s enough chatting. Now, what should I do with you, huh, missy?” There’s a slight edge of excitement under his tone. “If you really are a hero like you said, then maybe it’s a good idea to kill you and make you an example. Or maybe maiming you to the point where the agency wouldn’t want you anymore will be a better fate? Hmm… I like the sound of that. I can already see the headlines: ‘Tragedy strikes as a young superheroine’s career got cut short,’” he says to himself almost dreamily before turning back to her, electricity charge building up in his palms.

He takes a step closer to her and Yvette scrambles back futilely. She feels her scalp tingling as strands of her hair start floating from the static electricity building up in the surrounding atmosphere. This is it… This is the end of my career, my life, she thinks one last time before bracing herself for the agony. However, the man stops at the last moment and turns his head towards the entrance. Yvette hears the crunching glass chimes for a split second before the man in front of her is tackled away.

Patreon Link

Spicy Side Stories and Q&A Sneak Peeks Post

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 2 years

Text

An Unlicensed Therapist (A Steven Grant One-Shot)

Description: Your life was simply too good to be true - a bunch of the best friends on the planet, a job in one of the best attorney offices in Manhattan, and a nice guy you were seeing. But one day, your best friend Carly suddenly decides to get married to her boyfriend of five years... And that was when you felt like your life was crumbling apart.

Prompt: You are the maid of honor at your best friend's wedding, but you are single and sad about having to attend solo. Stressed and grumpy on the long flight there, you have a few too many drinks and pass out, drooling, on the shoulder of your seatmate. When you arrive at the destination, you are mortified to discover that your handsome seatmate is the best man.

A/N: Yes, I am mentioning the Jen Walters (She-Hulk (2022)) and it's because I really love her character (Tatiana is slaying!). Also, don't worry, Marc will be present. This is more of a bridge to get me back into writing because I feel like I've been slacking in this department in the last few months and I'm not really having fun with the series I'm writing for atm and I was relentlessly dragged into the MK fandom by my one and only, @missdictatorme. This is for you baby.

Pairing: None, really but Steven Grant x fem!reader, I suppose?

Word count: 5.1 K

Warnings: Well, the reader getting drunk and pouty, Marc coming off a bit of an angsty bitch at first, me hoping I didn't screw it up, break up and besties cheering each other up.

The plane around you was fucking crowded. More than that. According to the plan Carly had sent you via e-mail, your seat was located in the very front of the craft. As you walked through the small row between the seats, bumping into other passengers either with your bag or ass, you could feel the sadness and anxiety spiking in your chest. How did you even get into this mess of a situation? Well, to understand it, you had to travel back in time. Not for much, just two weeks' worth of it.

Two weeks ago:

To be honest, you were fucking tired. It was only Monday and were barely standing on your feet with how fucking tired you were. With big trouble, you barely slipped out of your high heels as you hung your keychain on the stand, balancing your cold coffee in your other palm. Taking a long breath, you finally stood in the small hall of your dark apartment, stretching your neck. It felt like you hadn't found a moment to simply catch a breath, sit down, and relax in the last few weeks, whether it was the weekend or labor day. Truth be told, the situation was pretty tense in the attorney's office you working at - you and all the other concipients were working harder than a pocket watch, trying to help all of your attorneys out. Even the lawyers themselves were pretty much clueless when it came to this particular case. Well, clueless wasn't the right word to use, but they were somewhat hesitant to propose any specific steps. This was something that rarely happened at Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg & Holliway, GLK/H, or GLK&H for short.

So yeah. Your work life was pretty stressful at that time. With a long breath, you decided to sit down at the dinner table while going through the post you were carrying from downstairs - without a second thought, you swung your feet onto the chair next to you, pouring yourself a big glass of wine while looking at all of the envelopes. There were a few interesting ones that caught your attention - one of which was your mother sending you a postcard from New Mexico (where she was vacating at the time), a few leaflets from your favorite boutiques across Manhattan (where you shopped when you wanted to look fancy for a work occasion or a formal one) and the last one was a small, pink envelope with a few hearts drawn all over it. Looking at the name of the sender, you realized it was your absolute best friend Carly who was sending you a letter. Not knowing why she did so (when she could literally pick up her phone and send you a text or call you), you picked a small knife and carefully opened it up... Realizing it was a wedding invitation.

For quite a bit, you stood still with the envelope in your palm and knife in the other, reading through it again and again, trying to understand if she was just fucking with you or was being serious. Your brain wasn't catching up, it seemed so. Sure, she and Kevin were an amazing couple (one of the sweetest you knew and one of which you introduced, in fact), but they never even spoke of proposing to one another - and suddenly, you were asked to be the maid of honor. Not too long after that, you were dancing your victory dance while dressed in your silky robe, a towel wrapped around your wet hair, a coal facial mask smudged all over your face, and Carly on the phone with you, explaining to you that this entire Hawaii wedding was a sudden, spontaneous idea.

Soon after, you got into all of the preparations, and let me emphasize that it wasn't exactly the most fun thing in the world - to make everything in your life work while simultaneously trying to create the perfect wedding. But honestly, you'd do anything for her. Now, on top of your very fucking stressful job, there was a whole wedding you helped to organize with the help of her mom and sister Aggie. At moments, you were thanking all the gods that you were specifically trained for chaos specifically (GLK&H was nothing more than chaos), otherwise, you wouldn't be able to compute the amount of information you needed to remember. While you were the one helping Carly with anything she asked you for, from making sure that everything will be prepared on time and according to her expectations, you were simultaneously helping her with picking the dress, the bouquet, the make-up, and... How did you manage not to get insane was beyond you.

At least you got some great help in the guest department and the bachelor and bachelorette parties - Kevin gave you his best man's number (to your surprise, the number was reserved for London) and let you two figure it out as a team. You never called each other, you never had a FaceTime or anything... You only sent each other texts and lengthy e-mails. The mysterious Steven, as the man introduced himself to you, was nice enough to check every e-mail you were about to send to the guests, the resort, or other agencies you were in contact with, and on top of that, he was making sure that there was everything in order. He honestly made everything so much easier for you. And voila, two weeks later, you had it all set in stone and sorted out - everything on your list was checked, and there was nothing left to do. Everything was to be absolutely perfect for the newlyweds... Shame the extended weekend wasn't about to be perfect for you.

The whole time you were pouring your heart into the preparations, you were sure that this guy you were seeing, Lucas, was about to be your date - sure, you weren't living with each other, but you were seeing one another on an almost daily basis and used to do all sorts of things together, sleepovers included. For the longest time, he presented himself as the prince charming you always hoped to meet one day. Lucas was very attentive and loved to spoil you; he stopped by the office on your lunch breaks just to bring you a coffee or lunch (and to tell you that he can't wait to hold you in his arms later that evening), he took you out and seemingly enjoyed doing even the most boring activities with you. Naturally, you assumed that prince charming was coming along. Who wouldn’t be up for a short vacay in Hawaii? It was a fucking dream coming true. Yet, just before you were about to drive off to the airport, he walked up to you, looked you in the eyes, and put his palm on your shoulder... And broke up with you. Imagine it. You were standing there with your mouth open, dressed in very tight cycling shorts and an oversized, ugly Hawaiian shirt (which you borrowed from Kevin) with an enormous straw hat on top of your head while this dreamy, almost too-good-to-be-true guy is holding your shoulder in his palm, telling you that it would never have worked anyway. That he was bored. That he had met someone else the other day. And that he fell for her, saying that he’s so sorry for not going with you to the wedding.

Well, you thought to yourself, fuck me, fuck him, and fuck this. You were in deep fucking trouble (not really, but you loved being dramatic). With your head held high, like the fighter you were, and your cheeks wet from tears, you drove yourself to the airport, telling yourself that you’ll make it the best wedding in the world nonetheless. Your ma didn't raise no quitter. You didn’t need a stupid man by your side to feel happy. You’ll just order enough margaritas to make yourself forget his face and if you’d be lucky enough and the known wedding superstition will come true, you’ll have the best man bending you over by this time tomorrow. In Hawaii.

Let’s say that this didn’t go as planned either; half an hour later, after going through the control of your luggage and ticket, you were sitting in the middle of the airport with an over-sized iced chocolate latté that had too much sugar in it with your headphones deep inside your ears, listening to Diana Ross and Jen’s voice on the phone. It was early Friday morning and you couldn’t call Carly to cry about what kind of son of a whore Lucas was (since it was literally her wedding weekend), Nikki wasn’t picking up and Jen was the only one who was most likely already up and getting ready for yet another day in the GLK&H. She was also one of the nicest and calmest people you’ve ever come across; you weren’t exactly besties, but you surely could call one another a friend.

Her phone was laying on her table as she put on her make-up, leaning into her mirror - so you could perfectly see each swoosh of her mascara and brush along with her forcing her double chin out just to make you giggle (since she quite literally didn’t have one). “Listen to me, Y/N.” - The woman said in a firm voice, putting her lipstick on while doing so. - “You are one of the most persistent, strongest, and stubborn people I’ve ever met. Like seriously, the office would fall apart in flames if there wasn’t for you and Nikki being our damn concipients. And I mean that. Like, without your constant hard work, information research, and cheering up, we’d be nothing - a hot pile of trash. You’re the driving force of GLK&H and don’t make some idiot make you feel otherwise, yeah?” - With that, she jolted, picked her phone up, and walked over to her closet.

“Yeah.” - You whined in a high-pitched voice, holding back the sob as you tried to dry the tears off your face. Your mascara was running all over your cheeks and the expression on your face was resembling a small child's who was throwing a tantrum, but Jen’s words made you genuinely feel better. So, you managed to crack a small, almost pathetic smile for her. “There is my tigress! Hello, I've missed you, sugar!” - She cheered, her voice filled with support. - “So, tell me now, will there be any handsome men that might take over Lucas’ spot, even for the weekend? You know how weddings go."

"Jen!" - You exclaimed with shock, laughing at what she had just said. This made her chuckle as well. - "I don't really know. It's gonna be a really small wedding, you know, just family and closest friends. And most of them seemed to be coupled anyway." "Then what about that Steven guy? He never mentioned he'd be having a date and from what you've told me, he made your life so much easier... And from the e-mails you've shown me that were sent by him, the guy really knows his grammar and is very polite. That's a promising start?" - Jen guessed, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled out a red turtleneck. She looked like a bombshell with that piece of clothing. - "You know what? Don't say anything, it'll be a surprise. What you gonna do on board the plane is that you'll order as much alcohol as you can. And trust me, girl, you'll have 10 hours to accomplish exactly that."

That happened two hours ago. Now, you were walking to your seat with your handbag, still dressed in that oversized monstrosity and very tight shorts while slowly moving forward, waiting for all the passengers in front of you to find their seats or to simply sit down. Most of the attendees were flying over by the next flight, but you needed to arrive sooner to make sure everything will be prepared for them, taking all of the weight off Carly's shoulders. After fifteen minutes of awkwardly standing around, you finally managed to walk to the front of the economy class, looking right at your seat - the problem was, there was a guy napping there already. Looking around nervously, you bit your bottom lip before bending over to him and shaking his shoulder nervously.

To be frank, the stranger was very handsome from what you could see. His black wavy hair was styled messily, there was a visible stubble on his cheeks contrasting the soft, rosy lips. The features of his face were giving you some kind of Spanish teacher on high school vibes - you liked the curve of his nose and his dark brown, sleepy eyes as he tried to wake up. "I'm really sorry but I'm dying to get on my seat, sit down and let my legs rest. I was waiting in that line for a long time." - You explained quickly, pointing to the seat next to the window. The man turned his head around with confusion, looking at the seat and you before picking himself up in hurry. - "Sorry, miss. I've been dying to catch a bit of sleep, I'm on the plane since yesterday evening."

If you'd be in a better mindset, you'd immediately notice the thick British accent that you had just let slip past your radars altogether. You couldn't be bothered, to be honest, trying not to cry all the fucking time. Plus, the man was nice enough to apologize to you so there wasn't anything strange about it. "Off to Hawaii too, hm? What for?" - You asked while letting him help you with your luggage, slipping past him to sit down in your corner.

"My best mate's wedding. He finally decided to hit it off with a girl he's been seeing for the longest time, good for him." - The gentleman answered immediately, offering you his right palm to shake hands. He was holding your bag in the compartment with his left hand still. This piece of information would tell even the biggest idiot that the man standing right in front of you, the handsome gentleman, was the mysterious Steven you've been exchanging e-mails with for the past couple of weeks. But, apparently, your brain decided to take a vacay as well, leaving you and your stupid ass on your own. - "Name's Steven, in case I could be of any help. Could be useful since we'll be sitting next to each for the next ten hours." "Totes." - You agreeded, shaking his palm. - "Name's Y/N. In case I could be of any help."

As soon as you both sat back down, Steven dozed off right after he fastened himself, knowing well he won't be up to even listen to the instructions. As he told you, he took off early Thursday morning just to get to the USA and to Hawaii from there - plus Marc was being a pain in the ass for the past few days, borrowing the body during the night again. So, because you were listening for both of you and your sleeping companion, you were paying extra attention, practicing all the moves the crazy nice flying attendant was showing to you - while knowing that in the next three hours, you'll be either dead asleep or drunk beyond socially acceptable. As soon as she reached the two of you, asking what you'll be drinking, you told her that you'll have a double margarita. "And what can I get for the gentleman?" - She asked you, assuming that you two are most likely traveling together. Not that you'd be complaining though. "Oh, he'll have a double shot of vodka. You know, poor guy, flying gets him all railed up. Just look at him." - And to make the situation even more comical, Steven snored loudly and flapped his mouth. The woman gave you a funny look but didn't ask further questions since alcohol was all-inclusive in economy class. As soon she put the glasses in front of you, you took a deep breath and looked at them.

"What is that awful smell?" - Steven mumbled sleepily, opening his eyes just to see you clinking the margarita glass and shot. - "Dear Lord, lady. You'll feel sick, you know that right?" "I know, yea." - You answered with a resolute nod, kicking the entire shot inside your mouth while trying not to puke. Fuck, that was some good vodka right there, burning your throat as you gulped it. Giggling, you covered your mouth and let out a long breath, shaking the feeling off. What you didn't notice was that the man was watching you intently, furrowing upon seeing your eyes getting starry.

"You're not feeling alright, are you, mate?" - He whispered quietly as the first sob left your body, making your shrug your shoulders as you tried to keep it in. Then, with tears running down your cheeks, you turned your face to him and shook your head. This time, the man carefully put his palm on your shoulders, all the empathy showing on his face. - "Wanna talk about it, love?" While being the typical gentleman Steve usually was, he brought all hell broke loose upon him, which was a fact he realized much, much later. At first, your rambling was coherent enough for him to understand that a guy broke up with you just before you took off to Hawaii (which also explained the empty seat between the two of you), which Steve deemed an absolute dick move. Sometime between your third and fourth shot of vodka, you started to cry about your job (he only understood that you were working as a concipient) and at the seventh one, you were barely making any sense. Steve was humming, patting your shoulder, answering "Of course, yeah" or "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that, love" whenever he seemed fit.

Four hours into the flight, he really couldn't understand a single fucking word from your heartbroken, drunken, and crying speech. So he continued on with patting your shoulder, looking aside with boredom on his face. You were going on and on and on. 'I don't wanna interrupt your train of thoughts, pal, since even you thinking about spinach is more interesting than whatever she is going off about...' Marc's voice popped inside Steven's head suddenly while the other man was staring at Steven through the spoon laying on the small table, making Steven jump on the seat a bit as he suddenly woke up from a slight trance, looking around with confusion. It could be heard that Marc thinks you're simply yet another crazy airplane lady he had heard so much about and wasn't taking you too seriously. Your eyes were piercing through the profile of his face, clearly trying to figure out which of the four Stevens is the real one, waiting for something. 'But I think that Little Miss Sunshine over here just asked you something.' "Could come again, love? I got lost in my thoughts." - Steven asked nonchalantly, giving you a small, warm smile. "I asked you if you think I'm pretty?" - You repeated the best you could, leaning your elbows into the armrests between you. The man rose his eyebrows in surprise, clearly being caught off guard by that question. At first, the answer seemed to be a very long 'Ermmmm...' as Steven thought about what could be the answer for a drunk lady.

The man looked in your face with literal puppy eyes, nervously fidgeting his fingers around, holding onto his trousers. Pretty? If you were pretty? You were gorgeous, to be frank. Even in his dizzy, sleepy state, back when Steven introduced himself to you, he was able to catch your pretty smile as you shook his palm. Back then, your hair was tidily framing your face as you tried to hold yourself high, trying to make up for all the pain and sadness inside. And now that you were drunk, you were not only gorgeous but adorable as well - he liked your face all warmed up from the alcohol and your eyes shining as you stared at him as if he was the most handsome man you've ever seen... Which sort of hurt because he realized that you were just drunk out of your mind. Trust me, Steven very much realized you're an absolute angel and if he had the balls to go for it, he'd tell you that you caught his eye immediately... The problem was that Steven was being a Steven and a red alarm was going off inside his head.

'What should I do? What should I do? What on Earth should I say, Marc?' - Steven yelled on the inside while looking into your face with his eyes popped a bit and his mouth open. 'First things first, you need to calm down, pal. Drunk women are one of the most dangerous beings on this planet because one wrong word can make them burst into tears. And this girl has clearly been through enough already.' - Marc assumed based on the raccoon eyes you were rocking, trying to keep Steven cool as he was about to guide him through this minefield. - 'What happened to her, by the way? I was taking a nap and woke up when we had a drunk girl sitting next to us.' 'Her bloke broke up with her just before she got on the flight.' 'Oh, wow. I take everything back. That's a dick move. It makes a lot of sense now.' - Marc mumbled apologetically even though you couldn't hear him. He felt like a dick himself, calling you crazy and all that. With that, he looked an intent look on you. - 'What do you think?' 'That she's gorgeous and before you manage to oppose, mate, it's not because she's paying me attention, thank you very much. I wish you would see before she got bladdered, her smile was so... Adorable.' - Steven answered, finally closing his mouth as he gave you a warm smile. Damn, he knew you won't remember any of this by the time you'd be getting off the flight, but he was keen on giving you the answer you deserved - especially after what happened to you.

'Steven, that would be a low fucking blow - telling you that you like a girl just because she's paying you attention. Geez, you really think of me that low, huh? We both know that you're a handsome man, come on now. Alright, alright, listen up - here's the game plan.' - Marc opposed heatedly and Steven could literally feel him rolling his eyes. He'd definitely tell that to Steven if Grant wouldn't call him out first. "Y/N, love." - The man answered after a long with, catching your palm in his to make sure he has your full attention. - "Let me start by saying that your beauty doesn't depend on one twat's opinion and you shouldn't let the break-up mess with your mind, alright? But if you'd like a more sincere answer, I think you're an absolute killer and in my opinion, you're stunning. So, what you're gonna do for me, love, is that you'll pick your pretty chin up and make sure you'd make the guy jealous if he was here with you, alright? Could you do that for me?"

At first, the muscles in your face contracted a bit before a huge smile broke out on your face... And it was so contagious that it made Steven smile back at you. - 'Good job. See? Wasn't that hard, was it? Now ask her if you can take a nap because I can feel how drowsy and tired you feel, Steven. We don't want you fainting, do we?' "I'm going to nap for a bit and I'll listen to some music. Would you want to share the headphones?" - Steven asked quietly, holding back a long yawn. Bloody hell, he was really sleepy. And so, with a grateful smile, you let Steven slip into the empty seat next to you, took one of the headphones, and closed your eyes as well, falling asleep while listening to some calm indie and pop music.

Well, let's just say that wasn't the story a few hours later - six to be exact, as a big thud made you wake up. As expected, you didn't remember the better portion of the night. Holy fucking mother of God, you thought to yourself, moaning as you caught your temple. You needed a Coke, a glass of water, and some painkiller asap. For some random reason, you had a headphone in your left ear, listening to Cavetown. You were only able to identify the band because you, Carly, Nikki, and Jen sometimes put them on during your road trips. As you clicked your tongue, you realized that the spot under your lips if drenched - realizing it was your own saliva. Oh, God. Oh no. What if Steven was already up and saw what happened? Oh shit, that would be embarrassing. You might've planned on asking him for dinner if he'd have the time after his wedding plans. And shit only got worse as you opened your eyes, realizing you're laying on someone's shoulder. Your heart was racing so fast that you started to sweat as if you smelling like an opened bottle of vodka wasn't fucking enough. Horrifiedly, you looked above just to see Steven's sharp jaw and black locks. He himself was, thankfully, still asleep - his temple was leaned into the seat's headrest, his lips opened wide. Holy fucking mother of God, you repeated while ripping the headphone out and standing up, sneaking around the sleeping man to disappear as quickly as you could.

As you walked down the stairs, you put chewing gum into your mouth and covered your eyes with sunglasses, putting the enormous straw hat back onto your head. Good, you thought to yourself as you let a deep breath out, good. You got dumped yesterday and you beslobbered all over that really handsome and very nice guy who was listening to your fucking bullshit. Great. At least it was a stranger who we won't ever see again. Thank fucking God, I wouldn't be able to look into his damn eyes again. Walking down the stair and into the hall, you could almost immediately see Carly and Kevin standing in the welcoming crowd, holding two huge handmade signs - one has your name all over it, beautified with hearts, clouds, and stars (which was clearly done by Carly herself) and the second one spelled 'Steven Grant' - the mysterious Steven, you thought. The greeting was amazing - all three of you laughed happily, Carly showing you her engagement ring as you two happily jumped around, performing the victory dance you were known for around the office. Sure, Kevin pointed out that you smelled like a fucking pub, but as soon as you told them what happened (since Carly naturally asked about Lucas), they both nodded and promised you that this will be the best weekend to get over him. They even mouthed that Steven would totally be all over you as soon as he'll meet you - He is a total innocent sweetheart on the outside, Carly whispered, but you know what they say - it's always the quiet ones. Try spending time with him, I think you two will click.

Turning your head around, you saw Steven the Gentleman, as you decided to dub him, walking in your general direction - your face got sweaty as you turned away from him, trying to disappear into the crowd, praying that this guy had never even seen Kevin. But he was coming closer and closer. And when he stopped right in front of Kevin to shake his mate's hand and hug him with laughter (kissing Carly's cheeks right after, congratulating both of them), you knew you were fucked. And not just fucked. You were about to die from embarrassment - you wanted to dig your own grave and let Carly bury you six feet under; you knew well that she shares the sense for drama, so she'd be on board for sure. At least he took the shirt off, not making you feel even worse. If Kevin would ask why is he wet for... Oooof, you'd faint. You'd start crying and run off, proclaiming that your social life is absolutely non-existent. But as soon as Kevin brought Steven's attention to you, you managed to draw out a very awkward smile while offering him your palm, pretending you've never met this dude ever in your life.

"I'm Y/N, you know, that girl you were correcting the e-mail after. If that would be of any help." - You said quietly, your face heating up once more as you tried to stay calm. The man could feel your palm shaking and sweating, but he didn't note it as the gentleman he was. When he woke up with your saliva all over his shoulder and you nowhere to be seen, he wasn't upset or anything like that. If anything, this thing you deemed embarrassing proved to him that the entire flight was totally real - that it wasn't just his dream. You were real. "Oh, totes." - Steven smiled, rephrasing what you said before getting hammered - this caught your attention and made you smile a bit more genuine. - "Name's Steven, in case I could be of any help."

"Steven, when did you start saying totes, dude? Never heard you say that." "Oh, I met this really sweet lady yesterday. She was very nice." - Steven answered with the sweetest smile, making you smile as well. But, in any case, you were determined not to hang out around Steven too much so he wouldn't think you're even more coo-coo than he already must've been thinking.

Well, let's say... That didn't go according to the plan either, did it?

#steven grant x fem!reader #marc spector x fem!reader #the moon knight baby #i did it #mom are you proud #and honestly it was so much fun #i hope the MK community won't strangle me to death because I hope i got the characters at least somewhat right #steven comes across as an innoncent 24/7 confused poor soul to me #and marc can come across a bit strong to me at first #until he gets to know someone better #ALSO JEN WALTERS CAMEO BE LIKE HELLO #I LOVE HER #mcu imagine #mcu fanfic #based on the portrayal of moon knight (2022) as seen in the series #oof i'm nervous #moon knight x fem!reader

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