#pricing trends

[alwaysbewoke]

[clk1403]

Event Pricing Trends: What You Need to Know

Unlock the secrets to successful event pricing with Grupio24's latest blog post! Stay ahead of the curve with insights into the latest pricing trends. Learn how to maximize revenue while keeping attendees satisfied. Dive into expert tips and strategies—all at your fingertips. Read now for a game-changing event planning advantage. For More, Visit:- https://grupio24.wordpress.com/2024/04/25/event-pricing-trends-what-you-need-to-know/

[kure0me]

PARTNERS IN TIME!! 🦋🦌

[marxo-fm]

Take me to Church

✯ John Price x f!reader | Playlist

Summary: A reader who’s so religious that she doesn’t even think of anything close to inappropriate, until she meets her dad’s best friend, Mr. John Price.

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, mature themes and language, age gap (reader is 25 and Price is in his early 40’s), religious trauma from Catholic variety, dad’s best friend, loss of virginity, pet names, slight aftercare in the end, fear of getting caught from reader, smut, assurance, fingering, reader isn’t all that clueless but super inexperienced, protected PIV, oral (fem! receiving), reader has some troubles with masturbation (failure to finish), Price teaches the reader how to feel good, praising, no descriptions of readers body, race, skin color, ethnicity, hair type/length and body type.

A/N: Currently don’t know wtf I’m doing with my life and how this absurdity came to mind, but aye, I’m all here for it. This was so…..!? Yeah. Also big shout out to Hozier, my icon. Side note: I truly apologize If this fic is rough, I will edit it soon but it’s mostly because I haven’t written in a hot minute, due to school and shit, but I’m back now—and I’m proud of this!

—

The breeze kisses your skin as you soak the sun's warmth on a Friday afternoon. The grass is green, and the clouds are out, summer has just begun. You feel yourself start to come back, you were struggling but now that’s over—for a bit. You look over as you watch your dad chopping wood. Usually, he has his friends helping out, but you guessed they had things to do, which explains why they weren’t here.

You memorized their names.

There’s Gaz, Simon, a man who goes by the name of ‘Soap’—which you find funny and you’re not sure if that’s his real name or if it’s just a nickname—and then…John.

Mr. Price. Or so you call him. Sir or Mr works just fine. But you never explored your unknown and strange feelings for him. How you always felt so shy around his dominating presence, or how his voice sounds like honey and sins. You prayed at night and asked for forgiveness when thinking of such thoughts you’ve never thought of when you see John.

Until one day in high school—in health class—they taught about intercourse and other things that left you baffled and quite scared. Anxious. Curious.

You’d get scolded by your Catholic parents when you asked such things, they say it’s too early to get into these topics, or that you should wait until marriage. Your parents are good, but you always follow their rules. You never once disobeyed, only minor times but you always asked for forgiveness.

You’ve always been a good girl, but Mr. Price always makes the fire in your belly grow. And that fire burns through your veins in an excruciating need for something so sinful. Maybe it’s the devil on your shoulder, but you never fight it off, and that was bad.

“Hey honey, ought to help me out here? The jerks I call my friends are out busy somewhere, c’mon, I’ll teach ya.” Your father motioned his hands as he walked to his area where he chops his wood, you’ve never done this before, but you’re excited. He gives you his axe, and you almost give out due to how heavy it is. “Can’t carry it like that sweet pie, hold it strong and firm.” He instructs.

You do as he says, squinting your eyes to look at his face of approval, “I think I got it.”

He nods and you bring the axe up to your shoulder, and you bring it down with every ounce of strength.

You chopped it.

“Attagirl, that’s one hell of a way to chop down wood.” A man with a deeper voice and a southern drawl said from right behind you, you turn around and the blood rushes to your head.

It’s John.

“Oh…Mr. Price,” you stammer, and you feel a rush of embarrassment plastering your cheeks.

“Y’know ya can call me John, right? Good job raisin’ her pal, she got manners.” He chews on his toothpick as he takes the axe from your hands, and the contact leaves you feeling vulnerable and so flustered. His rough hands that he used to work, chop wood, and fix things felt oddly familiar on your soft skin.

“We taught her well, ain’t that right darlin’?” John looks over his shoulder, his flannel covering his bulging biceps and that itself makes you feel thirsty for cold water.

“Yes, Dad,” you replied softly, “Well, I’m just going to head on over back home to help Mom out. Want anything to drink John?”

John looked at you momentarily, the way his name slipped out of your sweet mouth left him speechless. His eyes gaze over your white dress that sits just above your knees, it feels like he is undressing you, but he’s just wondering how and when the hell you looked like this. Of course, you were always beautiful, but there was something special there.

A spark.

“No ma’am.” He waved his hand and went back to work. You watched as his forearms grew bigger when he swung that axe down.

Forgive me for my sins.

You mumbled before you opened the door to your home and walked in.

—

“My baby’s such a bad girl, aren’t ya? Takin’ me so well.” John praises as he thrusts into you in sinister motions like he’s been deprived of something so good for such a long time, that it almost drove him over the wall.

How you felt so good, so welcoming, as his thrusts became deeper and faster. Touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed—nor could feel. It was an out-of-body experience like your soul had ascended, and you didn’t know whether it was real.

Until your alarm woke you up. It wasn’t real, but gosh did it feel real. You’re sweating, and your heart is running a marathon, as you regain your breath, you feel like you committed a crime. A crime so punishable that it could result in a death sentence.

You grab your rosary and you rock back and forth, praying and asking for forgiveness for ever dreaming about him. Your parents always told you that you wouldn’t have a good spot in the afterlife—a place called hell—if you thought of or committed any acts of sin. Especially anything and everything related to dirty inappropriate thoughts or worse, sex. Commit any of these before marriage, and you have a spot ready for you down below.

You feared for your life, even though it was impossible for anyone you love to know. They won’t ever know you have thoughts about John, or how you feel warmth between your legs when you picture him touching you in places you can’t please. Or how you picture him shirtless chopping wood, grabbing your waist from behind as he helps you hold the axe properly and swing it down. It was oh so shameful of you. Dirty, bad, sinful.

But you feel as if enough was enough, you’ve been good for far too long, that you deserve to feel good about yourself for once.

It was the perfect time, six thirty in the morning and both your parents were sleeping away, not knowing their good and obedient daughter was yearning to touch herself.

You lock your doors for safety as you scurried back to bed, you lay down on your back as you skim your fingers down your chest.

Deep breathes in and deep breathes out. You don’t know how to do this, but you’ll give in anyway. You sigh as you pull your shorts down, with your underwear as well. You drew circles around your belly before trailing down to your heat. Soft gasps escaped your mouth at your sensitive touch. Sensitive and swollen from the dream you just had.

You close your eyes, rubbing circular motions on your most sensitive area as you picture John doing this for you instead. Rough and hard-working hands aiding you. A coil in your stomach tightens, urging you to untie right then and there, but you can’t get the motions to stay the same.

You winced as you pushed your finger deeper, your back arching in response. You don’t feel anything, no pleasure, only pain and emptiness.

You want to scream in the agonizing torture of being so close yet so far away. You pull your shorts back up as you go inside the restroom to wash your hands.

You committed acts of sin and weren't pleased, and now you feel nothing but guilt and insecurity of not knowing how to do something right.

—

The next day, the same place you were before. Outside on your dad's truck watching his friends help out with work. John wore a tight brown tee that accentuated his muscles, he's a retired man, but you could see every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears in that body of his.

You blush, thinking about it. About what could be hiding under his shirt.

He catches you eyeing him but you quickly divert your eyes back to your book. John smirked, telling your dad he'll be back in a second and wants to talk with you.

"Ya watchin' me, sweetheart?" He smiled, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. You watched as he did so, fearing that he'd ask you to take a puff, though you never would. "I...I was just trying to learn how you chop your wood, sir."

A deep chuckle escapes his mouth, "Y'know I can teach you, doll," the new nickname had you unable to face him, but he loved seeing you flustered. He took a puff and you nodded, "Come on over to my place, your dad won't mind. I'm not at home much, anyway. S'good to learn y'know," he went on as he walked closer to you, his southern accent becomes deeper as he goes, "You'll have the privacy that you need, to read your books and pray." He knew how religious you are, heck, he's a good friend to your parents.

"I don't know if my father will let me go, with a man nonetheless." John looks back and then back to you, "It's only me, angel."

You decide to ask your father, just in case. You don't want to go behind his back, even if John is family. You walk on over, building the courage to ask your father if it's okay to go over to a man's house, a man you yearn for.

"Dad, is it okay If John takes me to his house? He's gonna teach me how to chop wood." Your dad looks at you momentarily, before speaking, "Of course honey, just because I want you to help an old man out here and there. 'Aka' me." You tried to keep your cool, to not look so eager about going over a man's house.

John smiled, the thought of having you all to himself at his place gets him straining against his jeans. He loves it when you eye him as if he doesn't know or sense when you drool over him.

--

"Here's your room, sweet thing, if ya ever need anything I'm just a shout away." He sets his tools down and walks to the kitchen, his jeans shaping his toned legs and shirt sizes too small. Butterflies invade your stomach, merely at the thought that you'd be sleeping under the same roof as this man, and willing to teach you something you're so interested in.

"Can't believe your dress is that short, doll. Your mother let you out like that?" He eyed your white dress that sits just above your knees and shows more skin than the dresses you usually wear. "You know, Mr. Price, I'm an adult now."

"Course you are," he takes a sip of his beer, "but I ain't take you as the one to dress like this. Can't say I don't like it."

You smile, flustered at the way he just complimented you. You can't deny that you like it, you love it. It sent a rush of arousal through your entire body, and he noticed the way you crossed your legs.

"Damnit,"

"What is it?" You asked curiously, not knowing that John saw the way you squeezed your thighs together. He wants to ease the need and desire that coursed through you, but he doesn't want to screw it all up.

"Nothin', now come on outside."

--

"Now, you're going to hold it just like this," he instructs, pushing his hard body against your back as he holds your arms. You could feel the hardness of his strain on your back and you scream internally, unable to form coherent thoughts.

You made this so hard for him, so difficult to the point where John himself forgot what he wanted to teach you.

"Easy," his calloused hands left your arms and snaked their way along your waist. Your stomach flipped at the action. Goosebumps flare over your entire skin, his manly scent entering your nose and taking over your mind. You swallowed, and continued.

"Now raise your axe, and swing it down."

You did just so, and you successfully chopped the wood.

"That's it, angel baby, look at ya. Such a good learner."

"I am, aren't I?" You slightly bit your lip, John cursed himself and cupped your face. "Mm, damn right you are." John wondered deeply if you were such a good learner in other parts as well. Price cupping your face was a first, but his calloused hands that signal just how much of a hard worker made the intense throb between your legs grow.

--

You wake up with your blanket suffocating as you struggle to fall asleep, again. You tossed and turned, repeating everything and every touch he gave you. You try to stop the need and the burn in your belly, you really do, but it's hard when you don't know how to fulfill your need. It became so bad to the point where you stood up and walked to the kitchen for water.

He wasn't in his room, he was out for the morning. A busy man and you're so silly for thinking he'd be home, even when he informed you he wouldn't be home every passing hour.

But oh how much you needed him. In ways, you couldn't forgive yourself for it.

You sit down, as quiet as a mouse, waiting patiently for him to come back just so you can confess your dirty sins. Maybe he'll forgive you for them, or maybe he won't show you mercy.

You try to occupy yourself, laying down on the couch and turning on the TV, still in your nightgown. You pull the blanket over, ready to watch a cooking video to learn a few things.

But it hits you that you're actually able to do something about the heat in between your legs, now that nobody is here. The house was quiet except for the TV playing.

Your hand trails under the blanket, lifting your nightgown as you reach for your soaked underwear. Shameful how you're soaked even when he's not around, John really leaves his mark on you. You let out a sigh as you reached your wet and sensitive clit.

It's not easy when you struggle to please yourself, it's so disappointing, honestly. Today was no different.

There is this creeping guilt, but it always hits you the most just when you creep up the tip of the mountain, only for you to fall off when you realize what you're doing.

You can't stop thinking of him, shoulders aching and tears urging to escape when you're so close to reaching the end, only for it to be unsuccessful.

So, you close your eyes and let out a deep breath. Spreading your legs further as your fingers plunged into your aching hole, you gasped. Picturing yet again, how he pleases his women. Of course, he knew how, he is well experienced and capable of pleasing a woman, to the point where she forgets her own name.

You're committing acts of sins in his own home, unforgivable and dirty. Because you were raised with the idea of being perfect, but no one is perfect. From the moment you're born and the moment you die--but the moment you die is the moment John Price fulfills your dirty little dreams.

He whispers in your ear telling you how to do this and how to do that.

'Just like that.'

'Those fingers are too light, darlin', lemme do all the work."

"Attagirl, in and out."

And you almost reached the top of the mountain, whispering finally as sweat buds trail down your forehead.

Finally, finally, finally.

Until you fell down the mountain you tried so hard climbing, when John swings open the door to the sight of his best friend's daughter getting off on his couch. You hurriedly pull your panties back up.

At that moment, you wanted to scream.

To run away.

To die.

He's going to tell your dad, and your entire body freezes. You can't plead for forgiveness when you're so far gone. No mercy will be shown when he kicks you out and tells your parents how bad their daughter truly is.

You sit straight as your body shakes in fear, you're unable to cry when you know your fate.

A sinful girl.

"John," you choke, "I-I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to. I really wasn't-"

"How long have you been at this?" Your heart drops all the way down as the blood from your face drains. "O..only," you struggle to speak as his deep brown eyes gaze at you, "It was only this one time."

You lied.

Another sin.

He stands in silence, shutting the door behind him as he takes big steps towards you. He hovers over you, looking down to see a dirty girl in front of him. As if you played this innocent and sweet girl, though you were, except in John's eyes you weren't. At least that's what you thought.

He takes your chin and pushes your head up to face him, you weren't able to look in his eyes, it was all too much.

"Look at me," he grumbled, you did just what he said. Not once resisting, although it was difficult.

"I ain't mad at ya, it's natural, honey."

Your eyes widened and your shoulders relaxed from the tension and fear.

"You're not going to tell on me?" You asked, Price chuckles.

"Course I'm not, I ain't no snitch, I'm a grown man." He bends on his knees, his thumbs rubbing circular motions on your exposed skin.

"Did it feel good? Sorry to have ruined it for ya' angel." It sure did feel good knowing you almost reached the top, it really did, but it felt better having John assuring you that it was all okay. "You don't have to be sorry--I was just..."

"Go on."

"Continue what I interrupted, don't let my presence stop ya," he signaled his pointer finger toward the door to his room, "it ain't comfortable here. No space to spread those sweet legs, is there?"

You shake your head, "Go on, unless you want me in there. I know deep down you do, doll, you can feel so much better." He's right, the moment you've been dreaming of, it finally comes true. How could you say no to John being in the same room making you feel good?

You almost can't believe it.

He suddenly picks you up from the couch, initiating a soft gasp from you when he opens the door and throws you on his mattress.

You balance yourself with your two hands when he undresses himself in front of you. Starting off with his shirt. You gasp once again, at the sight of his sculpted body before you. His chest was full of hair and his toned dad bod was the definition of perfect.

He gets on the bed and slowly crawls towards you, his head now in between your thighs. "I interrupted your time of need, sweet girl, let me make it up to you." He smiles before hooking his finger on the hem of your underwear, pulling them down all the way to your ankles. On display right before him, so shy you hid away, unable to look at the lewd sight in front of you. "That ain't gonna work for me, eyes over here." His fingers dug into your thighs, you did just as he said, looking at his eyes that continue to look at your pretty pussy.

"S'fuckin' wet."

It's a dream come true for John as well, to see you all wide open and soaking wet for him.

He places peppered kisses along your thighs, and you whimper as he stops. John makes his way up to your lips, biting your bottom lip before kissing you deeply and hungrily. Exactly like the dreams.

His stache brushing against your top lip only made it feel real, his tongue deep inside your mouth as your hands held the back of his head, pushing his mouth impossibly deeper. He's eating your face as if it were his last meal on death row. Like a predator catching his prey.

He pulls away from the intense kiss, the saliva leaving both of you.

Good God did he know how to kiss, you let him do all the work when you could barely kiss him back just as good.

His chest heaved, and he continued with his kisses on your neck and down your collarbone, pushing a soft moan out of you that drove John over the wall. "Make more noises, it's only the two of us, jus' let me hear ya." He cooed, his hands lifting your nightgown over your hips and then over your head. His eyes trailed over your breasts hidden in your bra. "Ah fuck," you sit up, allowing John to unclip your bra, the sight of your chest out on display for him made his mouth water. He grips your left breast with one hand while he sucks and kisses the other.

"Oh, John...keep doing that, please."

He kneads your breast, almost putting you to sleep with how good it feels, "mmmhm," you sighed, "you been wantin' this, and I'm sorry for waiting this long." He apologizes as he places kisses down your belly and finally makes his way back to being in between your thighs.

"No need...to be sorry," you breathe, tilting your head back when he swipes his tongue between your wet folds. The new feeling alone made your legs tremble, enticing a loud gasp from you. You start to rock your hips against his mouth as his deep groans vibrate through your entire nervous system. "Taste like fuckin' Heaven, oh sweet baby, I think you are heaven itself." Praise that had you dropping your jaw as he inserted his hot tongue in your hole.

You swore you saw Heaven.

Brows furrowed and back arched as he eats you like a hungry man, your hands gripping the sheets underneath you, and your legs spread further open inviting him in for more.

John inserts one finger in as his tongue continues to suck on your most sensitive area, and you let out the loudest moan you didn't think you were capable of ever making.

You died in this moment. And John swore he died in that moment, also.

"John," you pant, focusing on what could be your first-ever orgasm.

"I know, you're close baby, s'fuckin' tight, come for me." His words of encouragement suddenly break the coil inside your burning belly, the liquid seeping out of you as he continues to lick away every last bit from you.

He takes his finger and licks you away, which leaves you half-lidded.

"See? How hard was that? Like rippin' a damn bandaid off, does your wound feel better?" He teased, "It does," you say softly, still reminiscing what happened a few seconds ago. What you just felt, how it felt like fireworks exploding inside your veins.

"Such a perfect pussy, waiting to be full of me." He unbuckles his belt and unbuttons his jeans, you've never had sex, but you definitely never needed something more than now. You need him, to get to know him, even when you already do.

"Does it hurt like they say?" You asked nervously, watching as his jeans disappeared, leaving him only in his boxers. His thick thighs didn't do much justice in the dim light.

"When I do it, then it shouldn't be as bad, doll. Jus' a little pain, but if ya feel like it's too much, you jus' tell me. Hm?"

It makes you feel special with how sweet he treats you, he treats you with such care that it truly makes you dizzy.

He takes off his boxers and you almost lose all consciousness, his cock leaking with pre-cum and hard, you thought it was quite inhumane how big he is.

Sure you've explored your curiosity, but John, he differed from all of them.

"Poor thing needs some love and I'm going to show your pussy what the definition of love is." You grew heavy with desire, "ya need me to use a condom, sweetheart?" he asked, you nodded, simply because you weren't on the pill.

He opens his drawer and pulls out a condom, ripping it off with his teeth and spitting a piece of the wrapper out.

That was a sight for sore eyes.

He slips it on his thick cock, the condom intensifying every vien, it left your mouth dry like a Sahara desert.

How was that going to fit? Was all you were thinking about, but you were so sure he was going to make it feel okay.

He sets his heavy cock on your soaking entrance, teasing you while he moves his dick up and down your folds, you whine with need and John chuckles.

Was this the sinful thing that would literally damn you for eternity? How could something so dirty feel so good?

He brings a hand of his to pin your arms down, while the other holds your leg close to him. Your brows furrow as he slowly enters himself into you. John grows concerned when he sees your lips pursed and your eyes shut tightly, a tear escaping.

He stops, and you stop holding your breath.

"It hurts don't it? Want me to stop?"

"Please, no," you gasp, "I...I want you to keep going."

He readjusts your hips, before proceeding to continue, "You sure, honey?" You nod and whisper a hundred times yes before he thrusts deep inside of you.

"So fuckin' good for me, fuck!" he shouts, he loved the way your cunt fluttered and wrapped tightly around his cock.

The silence in the room was filled with his groans and loud moans from you, so lewd and so dirty. But you're too far deep to leave now, you're ready to die, happily.

"My," he thrusts, then pulling away and thrusting back in deeper, "gorgeous," you gasp when he continues his rhythm of thrusting and being so close to pulling out before he thrusts impossibly deeper again, "Girl." He breathed.

He brings his fingers to circle your sensitive clit, and you feel it happening again. It's more intense and heavier.

Your walls wrapped tightly on his cock, initiating that you're indeed closer than you have ever been before. "Mhmm," he moaned, and it was such a sweet sound you so badly wanted to hear again. He grabs hold of your legs, bringing them closer to your head, thrusting at a deeper angle that you can feel in your throat.

"That's it, baby, that's my fuckin' girl right here. All mine, gimme one more." He stopped as you cried out his name over and over until it became engraved in John's brain. He silences your cries with his lips as your legs shake around him.

"You did so well for me, your pussy jus' needed some medicine to be cured, got you coming all over my cock." He begins to move again, to finish himself this time. Your pain turns into pleasure and familiarity when he pushes himself in and out.

"John, that feels so..." He groans loudly at the way you watch his cock slide in and out, it was obscene but also surreal, "look at you, fuck, gonna make me cum just lookin' at me like that."

Which you felt so good about, it's all you wanted.

He pants as he reached a certain point, chest heaving as you can feel his cock twitching inside of you.

John pulls out, and there's sadness in your heart at the emptiness. Your heart thuds loudly that your first time to be with a man you dreamed about, it feels euphoric. You felt ecstatic.

He wipes away your dry tears and your hair away from your face, that drowned in sweat and tears.

John admired you the second he laid his eyes on you till now, he never knew the definition of perfect until this moment.

"Can you teach me how to feel good?" You asked as your hand roamed his broad shoulders and his back. And fuck, did John love that.

"Course' baby, on top of the choppin' the damn wood lessons," you both laugh, "I got all the time in the world, for you."

Your heart ached, he whispered sweet nothings before he carried you into the bathroom to clean up the mess.

Then you nestled under his arms and his body heat, his chest, and arms hugging you as the two of you slept the day away.

It was worth every waking second, and now you can sleep peacefully.

--

A/N: Y'all, wtf. Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure. Need him.

This lowkey needs to be edited some more now that I’m reading it, but I’ll definitely do that later…

[lostosk77]

ART COLLAB!!!

Sorry for inactivity these days, there you have this! Me and a friend saw this trend and I just couldn't resist... 🧡🧡

[bricreative]

New profile pic! Evolved from that one piece I did last year

[currentlyonstandbi]

[indigosunsetao3]

Hey! Sorry I'm not sure if you're taking requests but there's this trend on tiktok where people are calling their boyfriends their husband and I thought it would be cute to see 141s reaction to the same🥰

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGey2YkXT/

Feel free to take creative liberties otherwise there's no pressure at all to do it! :)

I am definitely taking requests! It's fun to get different prompt/ideas and figuring out to make them work.

This is too cute! I was going to just do a list-type answer but then one thing turned into another and I had all sorts of scenarios running through my mind while at work. So, I took a little creative liberty. Some of them are acknowledging the trend, others are situational conversations.

Hope you enjoy! And you know I had to put Alex in 😘

Alex

It was the second time in a month that a stupid pipe burst. That’s what you got for insisting on buying a fixer upper in the coldest winter the area had seen in years. You had managed to get the water cut off before it completely flooded the whole downstairs then set about cleaning up the mess.

Alex had arrived to find you a frazzled mess as you mopped up the water when your phone rang. The plumber. Alex quickly handed you the phone before he went about mopping. The plumber couldn’t be there today, earliest it would be was Monday. You couldn’t be home that day.

Looking at Alex, who could hear the call, he nodded and mouthed he could be there.

“I won’t be here, but my husband will,” you say. It’s a slip of the tongue. Alex and you didn’t even live together yet but just calling him a boyfriend seemed so minuscule compared to how you felt.

Alex had instantly stopped mopping and watched you curiously. The plumber continued talking but you barely heard what he said. You could feel the burning red of embarrassment on your cheeks as you watched Alex's face for his reaction. This was not a conversation you were ready for. You had wanted to talk to him about it, soon, but not today.

“Right, okay. Yes, his name is Alex, I’ll send you his number,” you assure the man as you continue to stare at Alex. Alex had gone back to mopping but you saw the stupid happy grin on his face as he worked and a hint of a red tinge to his cheeks. Hanging up you set your phone on the counter and take a deep breath.

“Listen I didn’t mean,” you start but Alex leans the mop against the fridge and steps toward you, his feet splashing in the water a bit.

"Oh, I think you did mean it," he answers grabbing your hips. "And here I was thinking I was just your boy toy for home improvement."

"Hush," you answer still feeling the tingle of the blush that had gone up to your ears.

Gaz

Gaz insisted that you still do your monthly book club even though you protest , preferring to spend time with him. Him being home was a luxury and you had honestly started the online club as a way to pass lonely days counting down his return.

Leaning down you read the chat as people start joining. You grin at the number of people you managed to amass in the past few weeks. The beauty of online was anyone from anywhere could join. You had a few people from other countries even and always tried to set the meeting times to be accommodating for all.

After you all start talking and chatting about the book Gaz flops comfortably on the couch next to you handing you a glass of wine. He hadn't read the book but he was still interested in what you were doing so he peers at the screen, the side of his face visible to everyone for a fraction of a second.

It sends the chat into a tizzy. Everyone knew you had a significant other but they had never seen him. The comments are flying which makes you laugh before pointing a few out to Gaz who grins.

“They’re dying to know who you are,” you venture looking over at him. “Comfortable saying hello to my friends?” You raise your eyebrows and Gaz pauses before straightening his shirt in an exaggerated manner, preening himself. He nods and you turn the camera to face him so you are out of screen.

“Everyone this is Kyle,” you say grinning before tacking on, “my husband.” It was a joke, something you had seen people doing online as a trend.

It got his attention though. His eyes flick up to yours as the sounds of the chat pinging start going off tenfold. He's ignoring what people are saying verbally and written as his eyes rake over your face while you casually sip your wine staring back at him.

“My deepest apologies,” Kyle says after a moment as looks back at the camera while undoing the top button of his polo. “But I’m going to have to cut our session a little short. My wife,” he emphasizes the word as his eyes lock on yours, “and I have something to tend to.” He doesn’t give them a chance to respond before he snaps the laptop shut and all but chucks it on the recliner.

He’s on you in a moment, pining you down into the couch as you giggle. “Husband?” He grins and you swear you see him glance at your empty ring finger.

Ghost

Simon wasn't a fan of pictures of himself if his face was visible. He has loads of you though, his camera roll was just random shots of you mixed in with work items and stupid memes from his team. But you barely had any casual pictures of him in return. The pictures were always of you holding hands, or you pressed up against his chest with his arms around you. He didn't mind taking pictures that way, always holding his pose for you until you got it just to your standards after the first or fifty tries. Photography made you happy and even if he was a bit self-conscious about it, he fed your hobby.

The few times you could get a picture of his face with his approval he always had his mask on, only his striking eyes were visible as he stared at you. It was fine, you understood why, but you missed looking at his face when he was gone.

So while you were at a local cafe, safely tucked into a back corner, and he takes off his mask you dare to snap a picture. His hood is up, his lower half of his face obscured by the cup but you could still see his light blond stubble on his jaw. The slight crook of his nose where it had been broken and not set properly years ago. Even a small glimpse of the corner of his lips which were a natural pink that made you envious.

"Love," Simon says quietly as he looks at you from over the cup.

"I'm sorry. The light in here was too good to pass up," you sigh and scroll to delete it, savoring it for a second as your thumb hovers over the trashcan icon. "I miss looking at my husband when you're gone," you explain as you hit the button and watch the picture wipe away.

"Husband?" Simon asks quietly as he sets down his cup and carefully pulls his hood forward a bit to make sure his profile is covered.

You don't answer as you look back up at him and set your phone on the table between you. Instead you grab your own cup and stare right back at him. It was a joke you had seen online, see how your boyfriend reacts to the official title. You didn't expect much from it, maybe a laugh or a joke in response but he doesn't do either.

He instead reaches out to nudge your phone back toward your hand and cock his head to the side a bit. Then he smiles, a genuine heartfelt smile that sets your heart fluttering.

"Go on then," he says nodding his head at the phone. "One picture, just for you. From your husband," he smirks as you fumble for the camera in a rush.

Price

You snuck out of bed early that morning, having to creep quietly out of the room because John was such a light sleeper. It was his birthday and you were determined to give him some sort of a surprise. He always made sure your day was special, always took care of you, so it was your turn.

Shushing the dogs you set about making breakfast, careful to not bang the pans too loud and diving for the kettle as it starts to whistle. It was a simple dish of eggs and bacon with hot tea, but John loved anything hot and homecooked. You had to shove the dogs outside before walking back up the stairs balancing everything carefully before hipping open the door.

"Damn it," you mutter as you see him half sitting up in bed smiling at you. "How long have you been up?"

"Mmm, since you tripped over your slippers," he answers with a small chuckle at your face. You thought you had gotten away with it, he hadn't even twitched as you cussed and caught yourself on the dresser. "You were so determined I didn't want to ruin it," he grins.

"One day I'll surprise my husband," you say with a sigh before setting his tea on the nightstand and the breakfast in his lap. He doesn't answer, doesn't move, as he looks at you. It seems you managed to surprise him after all as his eyebrows climb up toward his messy bed tousled hair.

"Sorry I shouldn't have," you start back peddling. "It's just a joke my friends told me to try. It's all over social media, they did it with their boyfriends and thought it was funny." You explain as he slides the plate off his lap and sets it on the night stand next to his tea.

"Do you think it's a joke?" He asks tilting his head to the side a bit, watching you get flustered and trip over your words. He's grinning now though as he crosses his arms over his bare chest waiting for you to get yourself out of your rambling.

"I mean the trend is a joke," you start, "but I mean if," you were making a mess of this.

"Sweetheart, I was ready to marry you after our second date. I am your husband, even if I haven't managed to get you down that aisle yet." He smiles and tugs you toward him as you attempt to reconcile how a simple joke had John confessing he'd had marriage on the brain for almost a year.

Soap

Another conference for work. At least this time you were able to bring Johnny along. You had forced your boss to agree to let you bring him even if it was only supposed to be for spouses. You told him it was either Johnny came or you wouldn't be there. You’d be damned if you were missing Soap’s short leave to sit in a stuffy room full of men praising their own egos ignoring you because you were a woman.

“Am I fancy enough to be here?” Johnny asks, a teasing smirk on his face. He was in a button down and slacks with a tie to match your cocktail dress for dinner.

“Plenty fancy,” you answer back smiling as you take his extended elbow. “Let’s get this over with,” you huff as you step on the elevator. A networking dinner with other people that were in your field and while it was better having Johnny here it was still not your favorite thing to do.

Johnny gently leaves you to go grab drinks while you stake out an empty table. It's not deserted for long before one of your coworkers stands right next to you at the high top giving you a once over. You had managed to avoid him all day but he had managed to spot you alone and swoop in out of nowhere.

“Who’s the guy?” He asks as he eyes Johnny at the bar striking up a genial conversation with the bartender. You really couldn’t take Johnny anywhere without him making friends. “I thought we were only allowed to bring spouses,” he tacks on. You had been fighting off Mark's advances for months, as politely as possible, but you'd had enough.

“John,” you answer coolly as you set your purse on the standing cocktail table. He didn’t get to call him Johnny. “And who says he isn’t my spouse?” You ask raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t your spouse, you weren’t even formally engaged but to you Johnny was the one anyway.

“Says the lack of any ring,” he says pointing to your hand. He never took no for an answer, ignored you when you said you had a boyfriend. He was persistent and creepy but it was ending tonight.

“John,” you say as Johnny walks over to your other side with a beer and your vodka soda. He knows something is up, his eyebrow quirks at the use of the formality of his name. “I’d like you to meet Mark,” you gesture to him emphasizing the name because Johnny had heard all about him.

“Mark, meet my husband,” you say boldly.

If Johnny was shocked he didn’t let on. He just gently places a hand on your lower back before setting his beer down and extending the other to Mark to shake his hand. You can see him squeeze a bit too hard despite being jovial and kind. The conversation remains casual and a bit forced after that before Mark excuses himself.

Johnny doesn’t say anything at how you introduce him to everyone as your husband, just exchanges pleasantries in return. But you notice his hand never leaves your body in one way or another and he’s been grinning to himself the whole evening. Cutting his eyes to you with a shine to them every time you say husband and even stepping in himself to introduce himself as your husband to a few people.

“Husband, lass?” He asks once he gets you alone in the elevator.

“Sorry,” you mutter kicking off your heels to which he extends a hand to take them without you asking. “Mark just won't get the hint and I,” he cuts you off crowding you into the corner as the lift steadily rises.

“Don’t apologize,” he grins tilting your head up. “I like how it sounds.”

[arcadiabaytornado]

The plot to this game is so weird

[egberts]

people at local antique and niche shops have got to start understanding that they cannot be pricing things at online prices for their local stuff. it's annoying and exhausting af. like girl you know how niche that market is, what do you MEAN you're charging over $100? is this mercari? ebay? no? then don't sell at reseller prices 😮‍💨😑🙄

[yeehawnatalie]

Let’s talk about what went wrong with Taylor Swift Presale today. By now, you should all (hopefully) be aware that today, November 15th, was the start of a war declaration for all swifties. I myself was fortunate to get tickets, but thousands upon thousands of other die hard taylor fans were not. There are quite a few things that went wrong, and I hope to make this post cover as many as I am knowledgeable about so that in the case of future panic, concert ticket buyers can navigate the absolute hellscape that is ticketmaster. Fair warning: this post is long and winded, read at your own risk…. Screenshots will be included

Ticketmaster placed all sales on the same day with only a 1 hour buffer

In all their genius and ingenuity, TM decided to place all 52 presales (not including cap 1) on the same day. with a one. hour. buffer. If you’ve been on Twitter, you’ve seen the panic and anger from all pre-sale goers (myself included) East coast encountered many crashes and 504 bad gateway errors, not even including the “code not working” errors that eventually caused all queues to be placed on hold for over 3 hours… People couldn’t even get into waiting rooms due to site overload. Around 1 hour after this, TM told us to join using the code from our texts, but recommended using a laptop or desktop device… make it make sense? It was not any better in Central nation however. Upon joining the queue, I found myself to be behind nearly 5k people while my mom (who had gotten a code too and was trying incase my night was sold out) was behind nearly 22k people. Within 5 minutes of the queue opening, it was paused. There was no communication at all from TM for about an hour to an hour and a half. Twitter was flooded with people panicking that their codes weren’t working and the lines weren’t moving. I sat there for 4 hours until TM posted the following image.

Absolutely ridiculous. There was little to no communication about known issues or why TM couldn’t get their sh*t together in the span of 4 hours. Keep in mind I waited almost 6 hours to get tickets and others waited even longer. Stadiums were completely sold out in some cases with no update in the queue lines.

Boosts were not recognized/supported

Towards the bottom of this section I have attached a screenshot of a twitter thread discussing this. I personally feel this rumor may have some truth to it. I had no boosts, have never bought merch, and was relatively high in the line. However, I have yet to see a loverfest ticket holder who had a high place in line. The theory is that TM placed the boost holders at the end of the queue. Why? The ongoing theory is that it is for profit - TM is notorious for scalping and ripping off buyers, and it does not surprise me in the slightest that they would do this thinking that all the more dedicated swifties would be willing to spend more $$$ than the “locals.” There is a ton of outrage rn due to this. What was the point of the boosts if they didn’t work? Many boosted fans did not get any tickets as pre-sale sold out quickly.

UPDATE 11/16

Apparently this rumor has been confirmed from TM. See the attached picture. Seems that TM is having trouble keeping all their information consistent. Makes me wonder what exactly the boosts and loverfest did bc they defiantly did not help people get presale codes or ahead in the queue….

Dynamic Pricing + VIP packages

This is a concert lovers greatest enemy. We’ve all heard about how Ed Sheeran opted out of this, and we thought Taylor did as well…. until we walked into the gates of hell. It is still unclear if dynamic pricing is confirmed, but the prices across stadiums and pre-sale times is insane. I paid 299+fees for an 8th row lower bowl while one of my friends paid 400 for a 10th row and another only 250 for a floor ticket. There is absolutely no reason this should exist. Not only does this not detour scalpers, it simply makes the concert less accessible to people who ACTUALLY want to go. Not to mention the insane number of VIP packages available. IMO VIP should be something you add on after, not sold as an individual seat. The prices for floor VIP were 800+ for houston, and when I went to check about 2 hours after getting my tickets, they were one of the last things to be sold. These VIP packages had no communication before presale, and limited the number of good seating for people who simply wanted to watch the concert.

Weird error messages

This was a MAJOR problem during the presale that I haven’t seen many people talking about. I’ve attached a picture of my own error below. After finally getting through to purchase tickets, I found two amazing floor seats within my price range and immediately took them only to be met with the error below. I was literally freaking out while my mom kept on trying different tickets to no avail. I finally found someone on Twitter with the same issue who said they cleared cache and cookies and it worked. Luckily, I was able to do this, reenter my code, and get tickets (although not the amazing floor ones I had in my hand previously) TM has still not replied to my questions about the error messages, and it seems that more people are coming out with the same issue I encountered. I know TM was trying to prevent bots, but someone like me who has a verified email, phone, and clearly residential email handle should not have been flagged and given this code (still don’t know why tf I got it?) Some people are speculating these errors were to limit ticket buyers to cover up TM errors in calculating how many presale tickets were available.

Lack of support and ability to contact support

As I briefly mentioned earlier, I was not helped at all by TM support. There is no easily accessible number to call TM support, and even if there were, there is no guarantee they would pick up in time. Frankly, I was absolutely infuriated with how TM handled this. The lack of texts being sent, emails being sent late into the night with no waitlists in sight, no communication on how presale was going to work. Everyone was told completely different things and no one had any idea what was going on. Add this onto cap 1 presale being pushed back to tomorrow, this is going to make a lot of people really mad. I’ve heard of peoples cards not going through, codes declining, constant ticket disappearing, getting kicked to the back of queue, TM just dropping them - it’s a nightmare. Seriously, just look up some trending Taylor Swift tags on tiktok or twitter rn… And frankly, twitters TM support is just not helpful - the below twitter user received two completely different answers when asking about how codes can be used for different nights.

I sent TM support a message nearly 48 hours ago and still have no received a response - curious as to why, but I’m not entirely surprised. Haven’t heard too much about the situation over on seatgeek.

No Reputation Style Boosts

This is another speculation, but many swifties have said TM wouldn’t allow another reputation boost style system due to the low level of scalper activity during this sale. These boosts worked insanely well to get actual fans on the sale (unlike the verified fans) and it is inferenced that bc TM makes a lot of their money from resales and scalpers, they were against using this method for a popular artist like Taylor. This style of boost could have greatly benefited people who weren’t going to resell tickets, but because of cooperate greed TM has not allowed anyone to use it again.

Insane scalper prices

Literally what is says. 50k for a SINGLE floor ticket is just not it. don’t buy the resell tickets, wait it out for people to sell them at a slightly above face value. They knew people want this tour, and they’re taking advantage of that. How did so many tickets disappear and magically show up on stub hub during the queue pause? (hmmm I wonder it’s almost like that’s TM whole business model) This image is from chicago alone…. and look how many tickets are already here.

“Unprecedented” demand

*sigh* TM you were literally the ones who sent out the presale codes…. you cannot call this “unprecedented” when you literally knew the exact number of people who would be trying to get tickets. These overpriced service fees do what exactly? pay developers to pause queues and not send updates ever? People skipped work and school to buy these tickets and because of your oversight, they lost time and money and may have to miss more tomorrow to participate in Cap 1 presale. There is no other option for this volume of tickets being sold. Taylor has no option but to use this trashy, overpriced site to sell tickets to her loyal fans.

Overall, I am incredibly grateful to have even gotten a presale code. This is of no fault to Taylor or Taylor Nation - the blame lyes only on Ticketmaster. These past 48 hours have been brutal, and I know everyone is frustrated and mad at the shit show that happened today. I’m just asking any and all swifties to put your anger on TM not Taylor. She’s going to have a rough time responding to this, and I think we should make it as easy as possible for her. But most importantly, we need to hold TM accountable, there’s a reason monopoly is americas most hated game. Hopefully someone can crack down on this, but at the end of the day the only thing we can do is continue to support Taylor. Please let me know if there’s anything you think I should add to this post or want added. Thank you and I hope everyone recovers from today. <3

[attyattlaw]

Absolutely, let’s get married.

(It’s the crush anon, obvi)

excellent. i want this dress

[poicyss]

Drawing my last 3 played steam games together Or, as I alternatively titled this, "Of course you have blue hair and Issues"

[ordinary-remii]

‼️PRICE YOUR ART‼️ CashApp only

I’m only doing full body pieces, fully rendered.

You get to choose the price you pay for my art.

I can draw literally anything you’d like.

Here are examples.

[feytouched]

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Listen good and well ⚪️ people, Mielle is not for you(only exception is if you have wavy hair) when the bottle says “it’s for all hair types” it means it’s meant for OUR(BLACK) hair types which is coily, curly to wavy hair( and even then, the wavy hair on black people is different than the ones on white people.)

Mielle even tells you itself that it’s not for the average white person when you do their hair test on their website that selects products that fit your needs

It’s asking about CURLS! Something most of you powder bandits don’t even have.

Mielle is not a brand for you. Leave the black products alone.

And for those of you are going to say “oh, we should support black business!” “Y’all are trying to stop her bag!”

Monique will be just fine with black or curly haired people supporting her. She doesn’t need you white people to survive, black people don’t need you to survive.

Madam CJ Walker, the first black and female self made millionaire, didn’t need white people to being her products to support her. Which we all know no white person was about to be going near a black persons hair products in the early 1900’s. It was black people who made her a millionaire by buying her products.

Overall, stop buying black peoples products when you know good and well it isn’t meant for your hair. Especially when you’re only using it because some white influencer told you so and now you wanna make ish trending.