#the winking into a blurry camera

[beamorgan]

I couldn't focus to write, so I put on ABBA to get myself pumped

so of course I've just been listening to ABBA for 25 mins instead of writing

on a related note, why is the music video for Knowing Me, Knowing You so funny???? The sad hugging while the camera spins. Agnetha's floating head as she whispers ~memories. good days. bad days~ The whole 'staring at the side of your face' thing they're all doing. The snarling shots out in the snow. So many incredible directorial choices

[kieran-granola]

You know how there's a subset of martial arts Tiktok where people post short vids of them doing a quick routine/choreography?

People in Gotham post blurry clips of the Bats, and a few martial artists challenge each other to reproduce the moves. One vid goes viral and more people start to give it a try, including non martial artists, who just meme with the choreography/try to imitate some moves just in good fun (and whoa some dancers and gymnasts do surprisingly well)

It naturally gets back to the Wayne brood, except, of course, the real challenge for them is to fail in a believable way.

---

Tim, on camera: "I was nearly good enough for the Olympics, surely I can do that...? Let's find out."

[cue footage of him falling down, cartoon-style, right as Damian was walking by and getting both of them drenched in Dami's smoothie]

---

Jason sees the compilation someone made of Bruce's ridiculous attempts at reproducing the moves (Tim and Steph roped him into their shenanigans.)

Two days later, a video of Red Hood goes viral: it's him condescendingly explaining how to throw a punch and challenging Bruce Wayne to do it properly because "no Gothamite should be so shit at fighting"

Bruce is verklempt when he watches it, because some of it is word-for-word how he taught baby!Jay

---

Tim gives Damian blurry, grainy footage of Black Bat to imitate. After that, Dami spends days hounding Cass for training because he nearly broke his nose tripping over his own feet.

---

Dick flawlessly lands a flip in front of all the others with "ASSERTING DOMINANCE" written on screen before winking at the camera.

Right before the video cuts, Tim's voice can be heard saying, "Whatever, your ass is still flat compared to Nightw—"

[woso-dreamzzz]

Photo

Patri Guijarro x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Patri teases your girlfriend

"And this is one of her eating a plushie. And this is one of-"

"Patri," Talia says," Seriously, stop. You're embarrassing me."

"Good," Patri says, nodding her head," As your sister-"

"We're literally cousins."

"-It's my job to embarrass you around your girlfriend." She winks. "And show her just how out of your league she is."

Talia rolls her eyes, arms crossed as she sags on Patri's sofa.

You laugh a little bit, reaching out to squeeze your girlfriend's knee.

"And this is Talia when we went ice skating when she was little. We took Pina with us and she wiped us both out."

Pina yells out her outrage from the kitchen but doesn't come out to defend herself. She's been slaving out the stove for the whole day trying out some new recipe for lunch.

It hasn't been going well and none of you are going to tell her you've already ordered lunch until it turns up.

It's safer that way.

The burnt smell was really taking over the room which is why Patri busted out the old photo albums to distract you.

"Oh! I like this one!" Talia leans over you to point and you smile. "It was when I was little. At one of Patri's matches."

"Frido's there," Patri says, pointing out your aunt to you.

"And I'm there." You point.

The room goes silent.

"What?" Talia sputters.

You frown. "That's me. Right there. See?"

The picture is old but it was captured on a good quality camera so it doesn't look like it's faded at all.

In the foreground is Patri and Talia. Talia's little in it, maybe around four or five.

Patri looks hot and sweaty, straight off of the pitch after a match. She's got Talia up on her hip, both of them doing a big thumbs up to the camera.

In the background is the rest of the team, most of them are blurry but a few of them are more in focus.

Pina stands a little to the left, head half turned as she talks to someone just out of view. To the right is your aunt Frido.

It looks like she's grinning but she's a bit too far away to know that for sure.

Next to her, is you.

You're little like Talia is, still just a kid but you'd seen enough photos of yourself at that age to be able to tell that it's you.

Frido's hand is on your head, ruffling your hair and you're wearing her Barcelona shirt.

It's funny to think that so many years later, she wears your Barcelona shirt instead.

"That's you?!" Talia asks," But...But...What?!"

"Yeah, that's me," You confirm, nodding," What's so shocking about it?"

"But that's you! And that's me!"

"Yes?"

"But...We were so close to each other! How come we never met?"

You laugh at Talia's astounded face. "I'm very shy," You tease," I was probably scared. And, you know, language barrier. We wouldn't have been able to communicate."

Talia pouts and Patri laughs.

"Maybe it's better this way," She says," Otherwise you'd have been pining after her since childhood. How many more sappy letters would you have written in that time?"

Talia's face turns red and you grin.

"Sappy letters?"

"Don't listen to h-"

"So many sappy letters!" Patri seems delighted to have more things to embarrass Talia with. "For a moment, I thought she would start writing poetry."

"Shut up! You're so annoying!"

But, of course, Patri didn't shut up. She rarely did when the alternative was embarrassing Talia so thoroughly.

"She didn't know your address so she never sent them but I'm sure she would have. She really poured out her heart."

"Oh, yeah? What did they say?"

Patri clears her throat. "Your eyes are-"

"That's enough!"

Talia launches herself over your body to tackle Patri to the ground, the two of them wrestling on the ground.

"Fuck!" You hear from the kitchen right as the fire alarm goes off.

The doorbell rings. The food is here.

You smile, snapping a photo of the picture, sending it off to your aunt as you pick your way through the carnage to get to the food.

[pedge-page]

Joel Miller x F!Reader - Piss Kink #4

if you're feeling bold, can be read with more Piss kink #1, #2, #3, or alone.

Summary: Joel entices you home with a uniquely fun hommade toy that he's been edging himself with.

Warnings: pisskink! , pill-filled condom, sending nudes ish, nipple play, sub!Joel returns!, male masturbation, mirror masturbation, assisted masturbation, overstimulation, degrading lanauge towards Joel, this one is all about Joel

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Work fucking sucks when you’re horny as shit.

While you rot away at a desk 5 days a week, from 9-5 with limited days off, you get a bit envious of Joel’s flexible schedule where he can pick his own contracts, his own projects, and work his own hours at his own fee.

Must be nice to be a solid brick wall of meat.

And he doesn’t make it any better. Having your phone buzz off at your desk literally every 5 seconds with pictures of his scruffy head waking up at 9:57am, his homemade sausage links and pancakes, his feet propped up on the coffee table while sipping away your coffee in your mug that you forgot because you were running late!

You: Fuck off, lazy ass

Joel: come home and I’ll fuck your ass all day :P

You: do you have any real plans today other than being a little shit?

There’s 15 minutes of silence from his end. Enough that you’re pretty far into a project you couldn’t get off the ground, until there’s a new chime vibrating from your phone. 

Joel: video attachment

You bite your lips, hovering over the file icon. This could be just another “Joel enjoying his day off” …

or a “Joel enjoying his day off.”

Not risking it, you run to the bathroom and lock yourself in the stall.

The video plays, and you can make out Joel’s big fat blurry fingers blocking half the camera as he angles the phone on the sink vanity, facing himself in the mirror focus sense. He backs away, and unzips his jeans. His cock is only half hard, but that doesn’t deter him from pumping it lazily in his hand, digging in the drawer off camera looking for something.

It’s not until he’s ripping off a condom with his teeth that you’re very intrigued. 

“Got a present for ya when you come home,” he smirks into the camera.

He rolls the plastic over his much harder cock now, pulling it tight all the way to the base, stretching it over his thick length.

Joel’s not one to use condoms, so this is—new.

He’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling as he pumps his dick with short jerks. His thumb teases over the clear covered tip. there’s some sweet little noises you know you’re missing because the mic doesn’t pick it up, but by the way his brows furrow, his lips part with eyes closed, you know he’s feeling dirty and good.

He lets out a strong groan, and the condom starts inflating quickly as he relives his urine. “FUck—fuck , shit, it’s filling up fast.”

You hold in a gasp because fuck yeah he’s right. The condom expands rapidly as yellow liquid quickly pools in the empty nub at the top before over coming the underside.

“Mmm—ah—ah-ahh-yeahfuck baby—its’ warm. Warm like you,” he grunts, smiling. He tilts his head back and moans, thrusting his hips a bit more like he wants to fuck it. 

He breathes shallowly when it’s over. The condom now tightly packed with warm golden piss around his aching length like a thick balloon, not much larger than a short zucchini but still impressively bulging.

He jerks over himself a little bit, watching the liquid bounce with such inertia it takes a moment to even out. It should be disgusting, really, watching him play with himself with his own piss like a pocket pussy, were it not for the tight clench of your thighs and throb between your legs.

“Reminds me of ya tummy when I filled ya full of it the other day.”

He starts to pull his jeans back up, careful to tuck the full package into his crock area before zipping it up cautiously. Two little hops and everything falls into place. He groans as he manages the button over his waist.

He pats his new bulge before winking into the camera and the video ends.

You don’t even realize you were biting your finger nails while sitting on the toilet seat in the stall. Your skirt bunches up over your legs as you spread them. Fuck, you can’t touch yourself at work!

Just as you’re about to write an extremely lengthly curse off to Joel, another image attachment comes in:

Joel lying on the couch with the camera facing down towards his feet, the evident bulge still packed tight in his head with his girth hand gripping at it through his jeans.

Joel: Warm n tight, just like your sweet little cunt :) 

Another video comes in, and there’s barely any intuition in you left to ignore it as you’re hitting play so quickly.

He’s positioned the phone in front of him again at the couch, folding laundry causally with his legs spread wide. The bulge in his pants, however, is much bigger. Each uncomfortable  shift only elicits a whimper from him, grinding into his palm to adjust the position but only turning him on more. He leans back and unbuttons the pants. The zipper practically falls away on its own to give room to the massive piss filled condom, shaped like a droopy sack, it’s been desperately trying to hold together.

He sighs in relief, jiggling the balloon. It’s now the length of a fat cucumber, sagging to the cushion from the weight. 

“Shit. This is a fuckin’ strong ass condom, baby. Feels like I’m bout to burst everywhere.”

He continues to smack it, jerk it, play with it like a silicon boob and not like it’s his own urine filling a condom and drawing his poor dick, still hard as a rock and an angry shade of red infused with the yellow tint of the sloshing liquid. His leg bounces, both of you hypnotized at the way the latex ripple with each wave.

“Can’t wait for you to come home and see how big it’s gonna get in your hand.” He cups his balls underneath while fisting his warm and wet pocket pussy. It jiggles obscenely in his hand, his hips thrusting into it until his tummy tense and he stills. You can just barely see the little air bubble at the top get smaller as he relieves himself more. His eyes roll back, feeling the warmth surround his meat like living inside your cunt. 

The video ends, and a second image is waiting for you:

Joel standing with his top belt button undone but the zipper struggling to stay up, holding his fat bulge that now has taken over to drooping down his thighs.

Joel: Fucking Christ baby, you see how fucking tight this is? 

You don’t open the last video attachment, as you’re already packing your computer away and telling your manager you’re not feeling well, zipping to your car and speeding home.

-

Joel’s cock is in a constant state of pain and pleasure all day. For one, his piss is keeping everything so fucking warm, unlike anything he’s felt regularly wrapped around his cock, stuffed in his pants. But on the other hand, his dick has been trapped inside a warm wet fluid substance for over two hours non stop hard, and he’s ready to cum geysers.

He considers whether waiting all day for you to come home for his “present” is going to be worth it when he hears keys being entered into the front entrance.

He’s standing right there the moment you open the door. He can tell you rushed with the state of your wrinkled shirt half untucked, messy hair and even more evident—the ferocious look in your eyes. 

You wrap your arms around him and hug him close. He lets out a tiny sigh, feeling your middle press against his crotch tightly. To your delight, it’s still there, all packed tight and warm, crammed so stiffly it could burst with any more pressure. Your hand roughly grabs at the squishy bulge in his jeans and Joel stutters a gasp, then a little moan with his eyes closed in bliss. You can just barely hear the quiet rush of liquid filling into the condom even more.

“Did you just piss some more?” You ask, your hand rubbings soothing circles over the bulge.

He nods, lips parted sinfully with dazed eyes now that you’re here and in charge.

“You’re a naughty boy, sending that shit at work. Making me come home early to take care of this,” you whisper sensually in your honey silk voice that has his veins shivering from excitement and trouble. 

“Nnmgg—mmmm, I wanted you here. And you want its too,” he snickers.

You tug the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a harsh kiss. He groans into your month, pulling you closer and grinding himself into your secure body like a horny teen. His body melts in to your touch, more needy to have you here than you were to have him.

Your tongue holds his hostage while you busy your fingers and unbutton his jeans. The piss filled condom spills out of there like it was desperate to breathe. 

Joel lets out a pathetic sigh of relief. You continue to palm him while he pants into your mouth, all the pent of pressure finally having room to escape, but still trapping his thick cock. It’s fucking heavy, the weight of his hot urine filling the bag over and over again, latex stretched so tight. “It’s.. s-so heavy—bout to burst,” he rasps, eyes shut into your shoulder as you hold it for him. 

You smirk against his lips, continuing your torture in your hand while he shivers.

You reach below the moist cucumber sack and roll his balls in your hand, tugging gently to get him to follow you.

He obeys beautifully. Leaping after you as you massage him, trailing so close that he’s wafting your hair product, twitching in your palm.

“Sit,” you command, pointing to the floor in the bedroom, directly in front of your floor length mirror.

He sinks to the group, staring at his reflection. So pretty and small beneath you. You slide right behind him, hands slowly tracing along his inner thighs, making him involuntarily man spread. 

You grasp the urine condom and start tugging, jerking it in your hand as you pinch his nipples under his shirt with your free hand. 

“You look like a fucking pervert and a whore.”

He whimpers and melts into your touch. Tense in his cock and chest but relaxed everywhere else. Despite the mass of the man in front of you, practically blocking your view of his beautiful twitching body, you perch over his arm to watch. 

His eyes keep drifting back, pleasure consuming him after edging all day. But he keeps snapping forward to look at how you’re tearing him apart.

“Only fucking disgusting boys do this type of shit, Joel. Is that what you are?”

He nods vigorously, hips cantering forward.

The sloshing of liquid grows louder as you pump over the slimy sack faster. His shirt rides up, his soft belly flexing with each painful breath he forces going in and out. 

“Can you fill this up some more? While I’l jerking you off? Don’t cum yet. Want more of your foul liquid to fill this thing. It’s so fucking big, Joel. see how much we can pack into here before it explodes!” You laugh.

He grits his teeth, and you still your movement. With a few assisted tugs wrapped around your own hand, he’s moaning out pornographically, and you can see through the latex the extra stream of gold forced out of the tip of his dick and expanding the hot condom. It’s big enough now that you need Joel to help wrap his other hand around it. The two of you jacking him off together.

“Such a fucking good boy, Miller. My piss hungry boy.”

If you weren’t so fucking turned on by your whimpering mess of a boyfriend you’d be cringing so hard. But Joel just somehow always manages to bring that side out of you.

“Arrgghhhhh--aahhh—oh—ohh—ohf—oh fuck! Fuck it baby, yeah—YEAH—unfff I’m—I’m gonna—“ he’s blabbering incoherently, nodding and shaking his head, overstimulated and yet so close to getting what his whole body is begging for. The condom bounces along as the two of you fall out of rhythm, smashing against his pelvis and balls, his tip stretching across the clear seal before being drowned in a vacuum of piss. 

You accidentally pinch the condom as you pull it close to him again. Coupled with being filled to its limit, the entire thing snaps in a giant explosion of the piss damn breaking, ursting all over Joel’s torso and thighs and the floor.

The impact of it all has his hips thrusting forward, his jaw dropping open in a surprised gasp when he cums into the free air—ropes of it shooting so far onto the mirror. You don’t stop, despite the wet mess all over him and tattered condom shred still clinging between your digits, jerking his wet cock to completion and tilting his hips up so that his creamy spend shoots on his pouty lower lip.

He licks away the salty tang of his orgasm,  breathing down from his high. You  both observe him in the mirror: clothes drenched from chest to knee, splatters of of his spend adorning him and the mirror like overly-excited icing on a tres-leches soaked cake. 

He’s shaking from the aftershock. So overly whipped and leaning further back against you for support. You hold his cock, now finally able to breathe, as you kiss along his jaw and neck. “You’re so gross, I fucking love it,” you tease, nipping at his ear.

He smiles with you, sighing up to the ceiling with blissful sedation. 

He stays pliant in your arms, head resting against your breasts. It’s quiet, minus the love sucks you’re dressing all over his face with your lipstick.

He opens his eyes. “How about a hug after such a loooooong day at work, baby?”

You stop kissing him and lean away, shaking your head. 

“No? Are you sure? I think you need it,” he hums, a devious look in his eyes as he starts to turn on you. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You warn. You immediately scramble to your feet and try to run out the door, but Joel’s caught up in no time, bear hugging you from behind.

“Awwwww, isn’t this soooo nice, baby?”

“Gross, gross, gross!” You laugh, wiggling unsuccessfully as you feel his urine seeping from his clothes to your beautiful white blouse and ironed skirt. You shiver at the warm, disgusting feeling of it all.

“Fucking nasty perverted piss boy.”

He giggles into your hair as you admin defeat, swaying with him in a tight embrace.

“With my fucking nasty perverted piss girl.”

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[tonycries]

i BEG of you tony, please please please write Yuki x fem!reader

she is too underrated and underwritten i love her so much i dont even care what you write as long as it has her 🙏🙏🙏

- biggest lesbian anon

A little bit of Yuki x reader just for you nonnie <3

She'd be the type to show off - and when I show off, I mean everything and anything.

Having her fingernails always trimmed and tidy? Check. And of course, she'd make sure to let anyone that stands next to her too long that it's all because her "pretty girlfriend" absolutely loooves it that way.

And she couldn't just have a normal wallpaper of you. Oh no no no, it's blurry. The lighting dim. Almost artistically unintelligible. But undeniably of you, right as you're about to cum. And if anyone just so happened to see, well, as long as they didn't catch the folders upon folders of you in her camera roll, then she was fine.

Wearing her skimpiest clothes the morning right after she'd had you the night before? Cumming over and over until you're breathless and can't say anything but her name? Check. And she'd always flash a smirk at whoever stares too long at those prominent hickeys, bitemarks on full display. Intertwining her fingers with yours and giving you a sly wink, "Better make some more tonight, hm?"

[werepuppy-steve]

modern eddie would be a pibble dad. she's his baby and he puts little bows on her and he throws birthday (adoption day) parties where she gets a puppy-safe cake and his friends gladly show up with presents for her.

the mall hosts pictures with santa the entire month of december and allows pets for an extra cost that eddie gladly pays. his girl is well behaved and knows her manners in public spaces, thank you very much. but unfortunately, sadie is still a pitbull and society hasn't quite moved past its breed biases yet, even if she is sitting quietly at his feet in line and with an "ask to pet" patch on her harness that eddie had turned into a doggy battle vest.

"oh my goodness, is that sadie?!"

sadie's tail starts going crazy at the mention of her name and a woman dressed like an elf crouches down with open arms, ready to receive the gift of happy puppy. sadie immediately plops down and rolls onto her back, showing her belly, which the woman gleefully rubs and pats. sadie's tongue flops out of the side of her grinning mouth, her tail sweeping the floor.

"santa was wondering if he'd see her this year," she says to eddie this time, and gives him a subtle wink that has eddie chuckling. "along with a certain owner, too."

eddie and santa may have started flirting a couple years back. he's not ashamed.

the woman lets them through and there he is. the big (not really) man himself sitting in his chair with his fake beard and red shirt stuffed with fluff.

"well if it isn't my favorite pup!" santa says, patting his lap. sadie puts her front paws on his knees and pants happily as the man scratches her chest and sides. "at the top of the nice list, just like always."

he glances up at eddie with a certain glint in his eye. "and you, mr. munson, are at the top of the naughty list. we'll have to see about fixing that, won't we?"

it actually makes eddie blush, which never happens. it's usually the other way around and he's not used to the butterflies that fill his stomach. however, eddie munson is not one to be thrown off his groove, steps up to santa's side to pose for the photo and fires right back, "what can i say, some like me naughty. now smile for the camera, santa."

he's not sure what the photo looks like, but judging by the blush on santa's cheeks under the beard, eddie wants to put money on it being his favorite. the same woman from check in mans the camera and she frowns at the little screen.

"maybe we should retake it, this one's a little blurry and santa's eyes are closed."

it's very much neither of those things, seeing as the camera's on a tripod, but eddie isn't about to back away from an open opportunity.

"you mind if i borrow you lap for this one, big boy? hunching over like this is killing my back." before santa can reply, eddie's plopping himself into santa's lap and throwing an arm around his shoulder, giving sadie the command to lie down for the photo. just before the woman can press the capture button, eddie steals a quick kiss to santa's cheek.

he doesn't realize he's forgotten to take the photo with him until later that evening. he huffs as he tosses the empty frame to the side and pouts at the blank space on the wall next to all of sadie's other pictures with santa. he perks up when the front door opens and steve calls out a greeting.

eddie walks into the kitchen where steve's setting his bag on the counter and wraps his arms around his shoulders, giving him a soft peck. "hi, baby."

steve pulls him closer by his waist, returning the kiss. "mmh, have a good day today?" he murmurs against his lips.

eddie nods and pulls back before the kiss can lead to somewhere else. dinner still has to be made and he's not above refusing sex on an empty stomach lest he get hangry in the middle of a blowjob. "sadie got her photo with santa this morning, but i completely forgot to take the damn thing with me when we left."

steve hums and presses fleeting kisses to eddie's cheek, trailing them down to his jaw and making eddie sigh as he tilts his head back. eddie's eyes are closed, contentment washing over him as his boyfriend holds and kisses him so sweetly, so he doesn't see steve blindly reaching into his bag.

"you mean these photos?"

eddie makes a sound of confusion as he opens his eyes. steve's holding a fancy photo holder with the mall's name on it.

"you asshole!" eddie says without any heat as he swipes the envelope from steve's hand, the other man grinning. "you could've texted me and told me i forgot them. hell, robin also could've."

steve chuckles and quickly maneuvers out of reach of eddie's teasing smacks. "i'm sorry i was a bit distracted by the cutie sitting on my lap and kissing me. which was very bold, by the way, not many people want to kiss santa."

"would have done a lot more than kissing, but a mall full of children is neither the time nor place," eddie mumbles under his breath. sadie decides to join them, stretching her front paws out in the doorway before sleepily trudging over to steve for pets.

"there's my girl! you were such a good girl today, weren't you? were so well behaved getting you picture taken." the way he immediately dissolves into baby talk with her is hilarious. he's knelt down on the floor, smooshing her face between his hands and scratching behind her ears. "just sat there patiently while dad decided to accost daddy at work, yes you did!"

eddie rolls his eyes and takes the pictures into the living room to be framed and hung on the wall.

[sturniholo]

kiss kiss - nick sturniolo

in which nick’s boyfriend joins him for the valentine’s day restock of space camp wellness

nick x male reader !

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

The bright lights flashed as you watched Nick pose in front of the camera. You were currently at the photo shoot for his Valentine’s Day launch for Space Camp Wellness. You couldn’t be more proud as he flashed a smile at the photographer.

After taking a few more pictures, Nick came over to you with a playful smile on his face. He then said, "I have a crazy idea, but it's worth a shot.” You waited for him to continue, curious about his idea. “I want you to join me.”

Your eyes scanned over his face. He wore an expression of hope, his eyes begging for you to say yes. It would be a good idea since it was Valentine’s Day, and the fans knew all about your guys’ relationship. They absolutely adored the two of you together.

“Sure, I’ll do it.” Nick’s hopeful expression changed to a happy one, a big smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, I love you.” He leaned in a pressed a quick peck to your lips. His eyes scanned down your body, making you furrow your brows. “But I do need you to change.”

You let out a chuckle. “What's wrong with my outfit?”

“It’s just not very Valentine’s Day, that’s all. There should be an extra shirt in the dressing room.”

You entered Nick's dressing room and found the white button-up shirt he had mentioned. It matched perfectly with the red one he was wearing.

After you put on your shirt, you walked back over to Nick. "Much better," he said, taking your hand. He led you in front of the camera and instructed you to sit on a stool. You sat down and waited for Nick's next direction. "Now, hold this for me," he said, handing you a cherry-flavored lip balm. You held it up, smiling. Nick leaned in and kissed you on the cheek as the photographer snapped a photo.

After a few more poses, a brilliant idea pops into your head. “I just thought of something.” Nick turns to look at you, giving you his full attention. “What if we kiss, but hold up one of the balms in front of us? And instead of focusing on us, it focuses on the balm. We’ll just be blurry in the background.”

“I am so down,” he says as he grabs onto your hand.

The two of you stand in front of the camera, waiting for the photographer to adjust his camera. “Was this just an excuse to kiss me?” Nick asks with a smirk.

“Maybe,” you say, dragging out the e. “But stay focused. You can kiss me all you want later,” you say with a wink.

Nick softly laughs before he places a hand on your jaw. His hands are soft against your skin, lightly caressing the skin. You place your hand against his jaw, your thumb tracing his cheek. Your other hand holds up the cherry-flavored lip balm, his holding up the watermelon-flavored one.

“Three, two, one,” the photographer counts down. As he goes to press the button, you connect your lips with Nick’s. He syncs his lips up with yours, the two of you moving in a perfect rhythm. You can feel him smile into the kiss, which causes your lips to curl up into a smile.

As you pull away, you can’t help but smile. Nick keeps his eyes on you, watching as you smile at him. “You’ve been such a good help today, I can’t thank you enough.”

You take his hand in yours, rubbing circles on his skin with your thumb. “It’s pretty easy when I have such an amazing boyfriend.” He smiles before pulling you closer to him.

His arms wrap around your neck as he leans in, connecting his lips with yours. You allow your hands to cup his face as you move your lips, letting out a soft sigh. You couldn’t have been prouder of him.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: i thought this was a cute concept, and happy valentine’s day ! ❣️

[anantaru]

— they‘re reading thirst tweets (celebrity au!)

including alhaitham, kazuha, scaramouche, venti x gn! reader

— ꒰ a/n ꒱ — i wrote this after watching the jackson wang and wonho thirst tweets video

— ꒰ genre ꒱ — crack, modern au!, celebrity au!

— alhaitham

the cameras change focus, lights on, 3.. 2.. 1..

in unlimited disbelief, alhaitham delicately held onto the little card he received from the camera crew— which was currently overlooking the interview he was in, as he attentively read through the letters on the paper with a careful uttering.

from @/milkboobielover69:

"i want alhaitham to suffocate me with his huge humongous tits."

at his words, the team of the late night segment— that was hosting the little shift, began to loudly permeate the room with their contagious laughs while alhaitham made severe attempts to cease his upcoming, flustered smirk.

"wow, this is turning into quite an occasion." he speaks in a monotone voice while his porcelain skin was saturated with a brilliant shade of red.

while his conveyance remained as usual, his instinctive body reactions had exposed him to the lens directly pointing at his face.

"i assume you don't mind if i question your username?"

he's facing the camera with his infamous, habitual smile, a brow lightly raised to further gather his thoughts, "it is quite, interesting, if you ask me."

frankly, at first, alhaitham couldn't believe he even agreed to do this, in his words, 'redundant arrangement'.

or that his manager put out said proposal in the first place— yet he acknowledged that it was altogether gravely important to embrace and further strengthen the connection he had built with his fanbase.

"are you all like this?" he asked, wholly amused, "because it is crucial for me to know before we execute that little plan of yours."

with a wink he ends his sentence, his eyes pointing straight to the main camera before playfully shaking his head— as to try to get rid of his flustered cheeks, gathering the next question soon after.

— kazuha

hello everyone, you may recognize me as kazuha from 6reeze and I'll be reading your thirst tweets tonight!

with an authentic greet towards the flashy cameras, kazuha decided to get on with his current performance right away, seeing this particular meeting as nothing more than an exchange of dialogue to further intensify his public relations.

"perhaps i should start with this one."

kazuha was excitingly leaving his pretty eyes roam over the little smartphone he held in his palm, gently scrolling over the numerous tweets the late night staff had specifically hand picked out for him.

from @/peepeeconnoisseur:

"kazuha gives serious hidden dom energy and i want him to ruin me."

at the tip of his issuing, he so soon had began to snicker into the transitioning lens, hiding his growing embarrassment with his hand and dramatically pressing it on top of his face to cover his eyes.

"compared to what i have encountered before-" he rapidly cut himself off, eyes widened in his own foolishness— the last he’d wish now was to accidentally air something personal out.

lightheartedly, kazuha carried on to rub his blurry eyes, in a powerless aim to cover his dazed look and tracks.

the fact that thousands of people were currently watching this right now didn't make it any easier nor turned the task somehow into simplicity, but to keep himself mustered and well collected was one of the very utensils he had been practicing on his entire career.

to have himself speak clearly he was coughing out, setting his attention back down to the phone in his hand, "i must admit, this is really quite tame."

the unexpected blows of laughs and convulsing titters packed the room with a genuine, hilarious response as one of the many staff members spoke out in a saddened voice.

"man, i really thought i'd get you with that one." the woman was crossing her arms around her body and frowned.

"if it was one of my band members i'm certain you would've stirred them off their footing." - "though some you might've flattered even."

the assurance was enough for him to almost completely forget the tweet he had read a couple moments ago.

though after the room went quiet again, kazuha decided to express himself on the topic just one last time, peering up to be to the core set in frame by the several cameras.

"all i have to add is that i am a man of hardly any words, i prefer to show off my skills instead."

— scaramouche

"you better not hold back with whatever we're doing here or you're wasting my precious time." ...

... "not my fans though, they're all important to me or whatever."

the blows and beats of irksome cameras and ring lights being shoved left and right towards their designated area had rigorously bothered scaramouche, who was, at present, situated on a cozy white chair with a couple cards in his hands, lazily leaning onto the armrest.

3.. 2.. 1..

... we're beginning now, massive apologies for the delay ... take one!

hello *rolls his eyes* i'm scaramouche from 6reeze and I'm forced to read your thirst tweets tonight ...

... you better have something good in store for me or I'll have to punish you in some unknown way.

instantaneously, scaramouche broke out of his established, not to mention unduly recognized, personality as he approached a quite nicer (in his own way) outlook for the cameras piloting on him.

after all, he was very much aware of how exasperating the media could turn out whenever he wouldn't control his disinterest in maintaining his public persona.

besides, the last setting he‘d need is for his band member kazuha to lecture him about the whole engage and its significant importance.

from @/http_scaranuts:

"i want scara to fucking spit in my mouth."

the way his body responded on its own was hysterically funny, "why would you want that?" in spite of the fact that he faked his disgust, his guise was revealing a different story.

his sides were splitting into an entertained smirk and not even seeking any effort whatsoever to hide his pleased smile.

he was engaging, almost hypnotizing, and managed to plant a significant impression onto many, which is what his fans idolized about him the utmost.

how downright blunt he was at times, mixed with a bewitching sweetness, a blazing firestorm that was able turn the whole music industry upside down.

scaramouche delightfully clicked his tongue— terrifically composed with an unchanging face.

"i'm barely two sentences into this and you already want me to spit on you."

with a little gesture, he finely brushed his hair strands back that were unkemptly falling all over his face, "how amusing."

"ultimately i'm going to give you a pass for the distasteful username though." he's innocently fluttering his eyelashes before blowing a quick kiss at the cameras, "so so sorry."

thus, scaramouche was carelessly flinging the little card back and tossing it onto the floor, already skimming through the next tweet.

— venti

the video established itself as the camera slowly shifted their focus on venti who was currently sitting in front of a white background, a couple stickers in his hands that had the late night logo inprinted on top of it.

"i didn‘t think anyone would write thirst tweets about me."

he‘s joking and setting up a pseudo guiltless attitude, as if he didn’t see a couple of those while curiously scanning through his notifications the other day.

but, well, to keep his performance going, he playfully waved at the camera and began to regret the fact that he had washed the rational thinking parts of his brain away with alcohol earlier.

venti always appeared wildly comfortable around the large screens and bright flashes of the studio room— essentially he was also known as one of the most talented as well as best performers of his entire group.

.. but maybe it was also due to the fact that he was mostly drunk, yet obviously not exposing it to his fans.

his eyes were now, a tone lower, when he glowered into the first of many cards, without further ado vividly brawling to keep his own poker face.

from @/l3t_thewindlead_thisp3nis:

"(i am not okay) if venti needs a stress reliever i volunteer as tribute."

subsidiary after prattling it out, venti narrowed his eyes towards the screen with a concerned look on his face before ultimately concealing his expression with the little card.

".. a stress reliever?" he asks, bluntly, before setting off the whole room to infectiously laugh.

venti himself nearly erupted into tears from how hard he’d been chuckling at the tweet.

"tsk tsk tsk." he‘s shaking his head with a sigh— as if he was disappointed, and carrying on with his high spirited words.

"a shame, i really thought you would elaborate on that a bit more."

giggling at his own remarks he instantaneously got reminded (by a staff member) to keep it as family friendly as attainable as to not suffer the brutish fate of his manager scolding him afterwards.

the cameras cut and set on a different frame, recording back again.

perhaps it wasn‘t the most brilliant idea to have venti go into this without a single form of preparation— nor a script he could base his answers on.

though beyond anything, he was a natural ar this and managed to engage the viewers with his quite peculiar charms.

"i‘ll leave that for now but i‘m coming back to you later."

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate

[colddelusionsheep]

And we are back with the second part! Not going to lie, I started working on a DND campaign right after this. So writing progress is slow. Still writing at ungodly hours of the night tho, and as always, no one under 18.

1st Part

The start

As the other tribute said good by to his family. You could see how they cried for him. How they weeped for the fact that he would not be returning.

The other tribute was a boy that you had seem around the district. Flint Overhill. You never had any interaction with him, but each time you saw him you could tell he didn't like you.

He had dark black hair that was just above his shoulders. His eyes were such a dark blue that they almost looked black in the right light. If you remember correctly, last reaping the girl he was sweet on got picked.

She was a nice girl, quiet and kept to herself. She died as soon as the games started, didn't even stand a chance. Just like you.

The peacekeepers led his family out, and you could hear them weeping even after the door was closed and locked. Flint finally looked at you. The disgust in his eyes was plain to see.

"Looks like your luck has finally ran out. How does it feel to get what you deserve?" His words hit deep. They hit a place you thought had long sense gone cold.

"It wasn't my fault you know. My name was in there same as hers."

"Don't you dare speak of her." You could tell he was holding back. "With how many times you have put your name in, it should of been you."

"I-" before you could even respond. A patronizing voice spoke up.

"Oh my tributes, I certainly do have my hands full, don't I? Let's try not to kill each other just yet. You want to save that for the games!" Nodding his head, you could see all the pins that were in place to hold his wig on. "It makes a great show, oh yes indeed, but what's the point in a show with no cameras."

Both you and Flint were speechless. The complete disregard he had was unlike anything either of you had seen.

"Now, my name is Marius. I will be taking care of you two for the next couple of days. I hope I don't have trouble in the future with you two." As he spoke, he gave you and Flint a small wink. Then he started to usher the two of you into the train.

Before you know it, it felt like you stepped into a whole new world. Finery unlike anything you could've ever thought of existed was right here in front of your eyes.

"For the few days you are with us, you two shall be treated like royalty. Only the finest of things shall be able to touch my tributes' skin." As he went on, you mind stated to wonder along with your eyes.

You could see Flint role his eyes at Marius. Finding whatever you had just tuned out to be incredibly boring. You ran your hands along the wooded walls. It's smoothness brought back a far away memory to you.

It was blurry, but you could see the fine wood above you. Along with a man's voice....a voice that sounded so familiar. Before you could get lost into it more.

You felt a pinch on your arm. Snapping your head up. You could see the unapproving face of Marius. "Now, we will have to work on those manners. They are absolutely deplorable. No matter, we shall tackle that problem in the morning. You two get some rest. You will meet your mentor in the morning as well. So those manners better be improved."

At the last sentence, he gave you an especially harsh glare.

Flint brushed past you, giving your shoulder a mean jab as he did it.

You silently followed where they were showing you two your rooms. Stepping into your quarters. You were in awe of the luxury that was in it. Sitting on the bed felt like you would sleeping in the arms of an angel. Even the smell was wonderous. It was a mix of vanilla and rose.

But, before you could fully enjoy all the things around you. You suddenly remembered at what cost this is all for. Tears start to fall down in violent choked sobs.

You didn't want them to know, you didn't want them to know just how hopeless you are. How you were doomed to die in that arena just like they all wanted.

Yet, as you sat the crying your soul out. You were unaware of the camera watching your every move.

===============================

"I want those mutts done by tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir."

As her lower confirmed. She went back watching the live feed. She has to give you credit, you were a pretty cryer. At least in her eyes.

This year was going to be a fun one.

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

There we go! I hope y'all like it. Also, small little note, I do not do taglists. They can get pretty chaotic and I write on my phone so they can get really annoying to do.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 12)

6.8k words

Roy Kent x Reader

Warnings: Language, fluff, references to smutty things, absolute fluffy fluff

Series Masterlist

A/N: This has... taken a while, lol. Honestly, I've been struggling with how to end this, mostly because I don't want to say goodbye to Roy and Bucky! But, all good (or at least halfway decent) things must come to an end. (Plus, I already know there'll be some blurbs featuring these two!) I hope you enjoy, and thanks for coming along for the ride ❤️

“What would you say is your greatest accomplishment?”

Roy nodded towards me and smirked. “Can I answer for her?”

Another “Manager Monday”. Apparently, people liked seeing Roy and me sitting together and answering questions. According to Keeley, the internet referred to us as the “Mum and Dad” of Nelson Road. It was weird and a little flattering, if I was being honest. And, frankly, getting to goof around and not-so-subtly flirt with Roy on camera during work hours was a pretty good deal.

“No, you cannot,” Keeley chuckled. “Go on then, greatest accomplishment.”

“Winning my Olympic Gold Medal,” I answered, elbowing Roy when I heard his good-natured snicker. “It was something my grandpa and I talked about for as long as I can remember. And he did come see me win it. After that, whenever he introduced me to people, it was always, ‘This is my granddaughter. She’s an Olympian.’” I smiled at the memory before turning to Roy. “What’s yours? That year you led the league in red cards?”

Roy’s smile had my heart doing somersaults. “You fucking know it.”

With lots of laughter and poor attempts to hide our flirting, we got through a couple more soccer-related questions before Keeley broached the topic we both knew she was dying to get to.

“So, the internet has been debating between two couple names for you two,” she announced mischievously. “‘Boy’ and ‘Rocky’. Which do you prefer?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Keeley,” he growled, as I snorted, “We’re not answering that.”

While we were more than happy to let our friends at Nelson Road know about our relationship and annoy them with our PDA, we had agreed not to make any big public show of things- at least not until the season ended. We were enough of a distraction when we were just a few blurry photos the night of the gala; we didn’t want to take away any more media attention from the club, not when our teams were on the verge of something great.

Keeley rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. But once you two go public, you know better get used to those questions, alright? Because you guys are really fucking cute, and the internet loves you already.”

“We are pretty cute, I’ll give you that,” I chuckled, taking Roy’s hand and smiling at the grumpy coach- my grumpy coach.

In return, he leaned over and pecked my lips gently. “That better not fucking end up online,” he warned Keeley, thick eyebrows raised threateningly.

“We’d break the internet with that little kiss,” she teased, winking at me. “Better be nice to me, or I’m leaking that clip.”

“Careful,” Roy replied with a nod in my direction, affection sparkling in his eyes. “I heard this one’s got a mean right hook.”

~

Roy leaned on the doorframe, enjoying the view. Who would’ve thought that just watching someone put on makeup would make him so fucking happy?

But seeing her standing in front of his bathroom sink and applying that red lipstick had his heart skipping a couple beats. He liked this domestic thing, the sleepovers and the driving to work together and the making dinner and… everything. He wanted more of it, he realized. He wanted more of her. The word was on the tip of his tongue, the word that had been floating around in his head since they got together, since the gala if he was being honest. Maybe even before that, he didn't fucking know. But it was too soon, he knew. Things were already going fast enough and, although she was diving in headfirst just as hard, Roy was still worried about scaring her off.

Her playful eyes met his in the mirror. “Can I help you, Kent?” she teased.

He shrugged and pushed himself off the doorframe so he could stroll over casually. “Just admiring the view.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed a slow kiss to her cheek. “I like when you wear that color.” Another kiss to her temple. “Especially when it ends up on my neck,” he hummed.

“Fuck off,” she chuckled, elbowing him gently. “Come on, let me finish getting ready. Otherwise, you’re going to be late to your game, Coach.”

“Fine,” he growled. “But after the match?”

She whirled around and grabbed his face gently, her eyes bright. “After the match, I promise my lipstick will be all over your neck.” She pressed her body close to his. “And maybe some other particular places.” Her red lips formed that smirk he loved, the one he couldn’t believe he used to find annoying. “But only if you win.”

Roy grinned, eyebrows raised at her appealing offer. “Well, lucky for me I’m the manager of a winning team.”

“That is lucky,” she purred, nudging her nose against his. “Now then, can I go put on my new Greyhounds kit?”

His grin widened. “You got a fucking Greyhounds kit?”

She shrugged. “Of course. I’m part of Richmond. I like the fellas. And I’m pretty obsessed with their pain in the ass manager.” She smiled. “It’s about time I start rocking some Greyhound gear.”

Roy’s heart was soaring. He loved wearing her name and number on his back, even if it made their relationship obvious to anyone who was paying even an ounce of attention. And he’d be lying his ass off if he said he hadn’t pictured what she’d look like wearing his name on a kit. Granted, some of those pictures in his head were in his bed rather than at a match, but still. What a fucking dream come true.

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Hurry up then, Coach.”

Roy probably would have skipped to the living room if it weren’t for this shit knee. With no one around, he didn’t bother hiding his stupid grin, the one he found himself wearing quite often these days. The internet had gone a bit wild with images of him wearing her name on his Whippets kit; he could only imagine the silly little fan edits and TikToks that would surely follow this match.

“What d’you think?”

Roy’s old man heart nearly stopped in his chest. The bright red and blue material hugged her figure perfectly, tempting him to rip it off of her and forget all about his match. The little Greyhound logo settled beautifully over her heart, just like the Whippets manager had weaseled her way into his. He was officially obsessed with the picture in front of him, he decided.

“Fucking perfect,” he hummed. He twirled his finger in a circle, eyebrows raised. He just needed to see one more thing. “Give us a spin, then.”

Her grin widened as she turned around, something mischievous in her eyes. Roy sat up a little straighter, unashamed to be so obviously excited to see-

“Does that fucking say Tartt?” he spat, pure disgust smeared across his bearded face.

Her laughter rang in his ears, almost magical enough to make him forget about this absolute betrayal. He narrowed his eyes at her as she turned back around, shameless amusement on her face. “What’s the matter, Roy?” she teased as she made her way over to where he slumped on the couch. “Don’t you think I look good?”

He reached out and tugged her onto his lap, doing his best to keep his stern expression. “I think,” he growled against her shoulder, pawing at the material, “that you need to take that fucking thing off.”

With a giggle, she grabbed his wrist and looked at his watch, reminding Roy of the night of the gala- their very first night. “Ah, no time to change, I’m afraid.” She pressed a gentle kiss to his temple, careful not to leave any lipstick on his face. “Let’s go, Kent.”

Still grumbling and growling, Roy allowed himself to be pulled off the couch and dragged out of the house. When she wasn’t looking, he shook his head and smiled softly at her. Even with such a stupid name on her back, Roy still thought that seeing her in a Greyhounds kit was his new favorite sight.

He just couldn’t wait to rip the damn thing off of her.

~

“Let’s fucking go, Greyhounds!” I screeched, ignoring the way Keeley covered her ears.

After everything that had happened this season, both on and off the field, it was hard to believe it was coming to an end. Tonight, the Greyhounds were only one victory away winning the Premier League. And, after weeks of wearing Jamie’s name and other players’ names on my back just to mess with Roy (and the internet), I was proudly wearing his name and our number on my Greyhounds sweatshirt.

Keeley leaned close and held out her phone. “You’re already trending,” she teased, showing off a blurry photo of Roy and me entering the stadium, with me wearing Roy’s name and my signature red lipstick as I smiled up at the Greyhound manager. “And so is this.” There was Jamie Tartt, entering the stadium, wearing a fanny pack and, as usual, a hat. Unlike usual, this hat didn’t say “ICON”; instead, it proudly proclaimed “ROCKY”.

I rolled my eyes as the guys took their places on the field. “Is that a reference to that stupid ‘couple name’ thing?” I groaned. “Because you’re all supposed to be helping us keep quiet, you know.”

The sly way Keeley narrowed her eyes had me almost squirming. “Yeah. Because the way you two act during Manager Mondays and wearing each other’s kits is really discreet.” Suddenly, her suspicious expression turned somber, giving me a new urge to fidget. “How’s it all going by the way? You and him? The two of you seem pretty damn happy these days.”

“We are,” I assured her, not bothering to stop my wide smile from filling my face. “He’s… well, you know how he is.” I gave a soft chuckle as I looked down to the pitch and watched Roy lean over to say something to Coach Beard. Perfect, I decided. That was how Roy was; perfect. From the way he stood during games, shoulders squared and all business, to the way he always stole a quick kiss when our paths crossed at work, to the way his strong hands tenderly adored me in bed, to the lazy afternoons on his couch, to the phone calls and texts that flooded my phone whenever we were apart, to the way he made me laugh and smile in between all those moments. Roy Kent was fucking perfect. “He’s Roy.”

Keeley’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “I do know how he is,” she said carefully. The little clearing of her throat had me turning my eyes to her. Her eyebrows knitted together, as if she thought I would slug her at any moment. “And I hope this isn’t totally inappropriate, but we were talking last week- and he was saying he’s so fucking happy,” she quickly added, probably seeing my slowly raising eyebrows. “He’s just worried about being… clingy?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at how completely apprehensive my friend looked. “Oh, Roy’s clingy as fuck,” I said. “But I like it.” I shrugged, my eyes returning to the gruff man on the pitch that had weaseled his way into my heart. “I… I’m clingy too,” I admitted. “I think that’s why we work, actually. We’re both pretty intense people, we both do everything at full speed, you know? So, one person’s idea of ‘too clingy’ is my idea of ‘absolutely fucking perfect’.”

The smile on Keeley’s face was filled with joy and a bit of relief. “I’m so happy to hear that,” she said, grabbing my hand and intertwining our fingers. “Really. He deserves the best and you-” She smacked a kiss to my cheek. “-are the fucking best, babes.”

~

The tips of Roy’s fingers tingled as he stared down Jamie, who was making a mad dash towards their opponent’s goal. There were only moments left before stoppage time ended in a tie and the match inevitably went to extra time, which had been a dangerous place for the Greyhounds all season long. If Jamie couldn’t beat both the clock and goalkeeper, it felt like their season would end in defeat. And Roy couldn’t have that. Not this season. Not when everything seemed to be ending so well, on and off the pitch.

Only one defender stood between Jamie and the goal. Roy held his breath as he watched Jamie move this way and that, doing a maneuver he knew Tartt hadn’t learned from any of the coaches on the pitch; he’d learned this particular move from the Whippets. And he’d apparently learned it well, because suddenly Jamie was in front of the goal, kicking the ball and-

“JAMIE TARTT SCORES!”

Less than a moment later, the familiar sound of the referee’s whistle had all of Nelson Road in pure pandemonium. Roy sprinted onto the field, not caring about his stupid knee, and was instantly swallowed by the swarm of blue that was his team. He grabbed and hugged whoever was close by, not caring to see anything other than their wide eyes and wider smiles. He wondered ever so briefly if anything in his career would ever live up to this moment; he knew nothing before ever had. And, if he was being quite honest, he could live with this being the happiest moment of his career.

He was hugging Jamie tight, mumbling something about being fucking proud of the prick, when he heard some of his players call his name in teasing voices. He knew those tones; he’d been hearing them a lot lately, caused by one thing- well, one person- every fucking time.

Sure enough, when Roy glanced over his shoulder, the sight made his smile grow.

There she was, clad in her Greyhounds sweater, running at him. He knew she’d regret this run in the morning- they’d probably spend the whole next day icing ankles and knees- but she didn’t look like she cared. In fact, she looked like she didn’t care about anything other than Roy.

She threw herself into his arms and let him envelop her in a tight hug, one far too tight for two platonic managers to share.

“I’m proud of you,” she huffed into the crook of his neck. “So fucking proud, Roy.”

He released her slightly so she could gaze up at him, her eyes full of adoration and joy. Deep in his chest, Roy held a hope that she would stare at him like this for the rest of their lives. “Fucking come here,” he murmured, his hands leaving her hips to cup her face.

At some point over the season, Roy had lost count of how many times he’d kissed this woman. There were some kisses that were irrevocably stamped on his heart- their first kiss while sitting on his couch listening to Sam Cooke, the kiss in the rain after he’d given her the Team USA football, the sweet kiss they’d shared after he asked her to be his girlfriend- but this was probably his favorite so far. It was soft and slow, and it made the roar of the crowd go silent in Roy’s mind. He knew there was no going back from this; there would be photos of this kiss in the papers, and he’d definitely be asked about it in the post-match press conference. They’d once again be the subject of rumors and speculation, with Twitter users trying to put together a timeline and reanalyzing every little interaction they’d had over these last few months. It was going to be pure fucking hell.

But thankfully, his own personal heaven was in his arms.

When they parted, she wore a wide grin, the kind that made his heart skip a beat. “Congrats on the win, Coach,” she chuckled as she ruffled his hair. “Can’t believe you guys beat us to it.” She kissed his lips effortlessly, as if she kissed him on the pitch every day. “Whatever happened to ladies first?”

Roy shook his head and tightened his grip on her. “Just means the Whippets get to be the grand finale.”

“Grand finale,” she repeated, giving his jacket a tug to pull him back to herself. “I like the sound of that, Kent.”

Roy could’ve stayed on that pitch forever, holding her and kissing her, finally able to show everyone how he felt about her and how she miraculously felt about him. The feeling of winning the whole fucking thing, and having his girl in his arms, and hearing his team shout and celebrate, it was intoxicating as hell.

But, as Keeley reminded him with a giggle, there was pomp and circumstance to get through.

His whole body shook with excitement as he stood by Rebecca’s side and received the trophy. In the smiling crowd, he locked gazes with those familiar eyes. Could his smile get any bigger? he wondered. Surely that would be the morning headline: Richmond’s Roy Kent finally knows how to smile. And damn, if it wasn’t something he wanted to keep doing.

Once things began to die down on the pitch, Keeley began herding him towards the press conference he still had to do before celebrating with the team. He kept an arm wrapped around the Whippet’s manager as he finally made his way through the halls, to the familiar door that led to the press room. He paused in front of it, thinking about all the less-than-stellar moments he’d had in there. Announcing his retirement. Watching Jamie have a meltdown. Throwing a chair at George fucking Willows after being asked about Keeley. Being asked intrusive questions about his love life and the drama of this season. Some crappy things happened in that room, he admitted to himself.

But today? Today he walked in with his head held high; for the first time in a long time, Roy Kent felt nothing but good about himself and his life. His team was officially the best in the Premier League, and he had the girl of his dreams to kiss after the match. He allowed himself a smile as he settled in front of the cameras, enjoying the surprise on the reporters’ faces when they caught sight of his expression. In the back of the room, Keeley gave him a thumbs up before wrapping her arm around the Whippets’ manager, who shot him a wink that had his stupid grin widening.

Yeah. This might be the best fucking day of his whole fucking life.

The clamoring began before he even sat down. Roy rolled his eyes, albeit good-naturedly for once, and pointed to a familiar face, a reporter he didn’t fully hate. “Yeah?”

“Coach Kent, how does it feel to lead the Greyhounds to do the impossible?”

Roy leaned into his seat, determined to at least look relaxed. “Feels fucking great,” he said. “And I’m going to ignore that ‘impossible’ thing.” He smirked at the tittering from the reporters. “Because honestly, this team is fucking incredible. And anyone who thought this was ‘impossible’ for those lads hasn’t been paying attention.” After answering a few questions about the season and the match, he could see the journalists beginning to get restless. It was clear what they would be asking next. He pointed to another raised hand. “You.”

“A certain coach had an… interesting way of congratulating you,” the reporter asked in a timid voice. “Anything to say about that?”

For a moment, he glanced to the back of the room. Not to Keeley, like he usually did during these things, but to the pair of eyes that gazed back with a beautiful mixture of adoration and teasing. Another wink encouraged him to lean forward on his elbows and ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “There’s a lot I can say about that,” he chuckled. “But, all I will say is this-” He looked directly at those bright eyes. “-I’m fucking mad about that woman. She seems to think I’m alright, which is nice. And she continues to be one of the most impressive managers I’ve had the honor of watching on the pitch. And I am looking forward to seeing her and the Whippets kick some serious ass next weekend.”

More questions were hurled at him, mostly excited and kind ones, but Roy didn’t really hear them. He was too focused on trying not to simply sit and stare at that pretty face that smiled at him and made him feel like he’d won more than the Premier League.

~

I pulled my dark blue blazer on and turned to get a good look at myself in the mirror. Dark blue blazer, white blouse, best jeans, hair up in a ponytail, red lipstick applied, necklace my grandfather had given me around my neck. This was it, I decided. This was the outfit of a Women’s Super League-winning coach.

“You look fucking amazing.” A pair of strong arms wrapped around me as a scruffy kiss smacked my cheek. “Like a fucking winner.” Roy smirked at me in the mirror. He looked damn good in his white Whippets kit, the number six on his back and something that kind of looked like love in his eyes. If my entire season wasn’t on the line, I’d be debating ripping off that jersey and throwing Roy onto the bed. “Gonna wear your gold medal?” he teased.

With an eyeroll, I slipped out of his grasp and sat on my bed. “Just toss me my sneakers, Kent.”

Roy raised an eyebrow as he moved towards my familiar Converse that sat perfectly next to the closet. “Wow, I get to touch the Match Day shoes? What an honor.”

“Yeah,” I chuckled as I took the shoes from him and tugged them on. “I’m hoping your luck from last weekend rubs off on me and the Whippets.” I knew that underneath my joking tone, he could hear my nerves. Roy always seemed to know what was going on beneath the surface.

Sure enough, he sat down next to me and took my hand. “Oi.” His voice was as soft as his gaze. “You’re going to be fucking brilliant.” He kissed my forehead. “Your team is incredible. You are incredible. You’re Coach Bucky. World Cup winner, Olympic champion, NWSL Coach of the Year.” He shook his head as he rattled off my résumé with a smile on his face. “You’ve fucking got this.”

“I know.”

He raised his thick eyebrows at me expectantly. “But?”

“But…” I sighed heavily and let my head fall against his shoulder. “There’s just so much pressure,” I murmured. “It’s our first season. And with all of my personal drama…” I closed my eyes. “I have to win. I have to show that I’m a fucking winner. If I don’t, I’ll forever be that slutty American who slept with Roy freaking Kent.”

He gave me a light shove. “Oi, I thought you liked sleeping with Roy Kent.”

“Roy,” I huffed. “I’m being serious. I need to win today. I have to prove that I deserve to be taken seriously. Everything I’ve built this year is on the line. If we don’t do this, I don’t know-”

“Babe.” Roy shifted and lifted my legs until they draped over his lap. His arms felt like a warm blanket as they wrapped around my waist and tugged me close. “You don’t have to prove shit to anyone. You’re lightyears better at this job than I am-” A snort slipped out of my nose. “-and everyone knows it, no matter what happens today. You are brilliant and accomplished. And if it’s not this year, it’ll be next year.” He gave me a squeeze. “But I believe in you. Your team believes in you. Rebecca and Keeley and all the Greyhounds believe in you. Fuck what anyone else says.” He kissed my forehead, lingering for a moment. “You can always just punch them anyways.”

Fucking Roy, making me laugh and forget my anxiety. As I smiled through my nerves and kissed his mouth, probably smudging my lipstick, all I could think was how badly I wanted him to make me laugh for the rest of my fucking life.

~

The feeling of pride in Roy’s chest was unlike anything he’d ever felt in his life. The energy of the stadium vibrated through his whole body, and he couldn’t help the lump in his throat when he saw how absolutely packed the place was. He walked confidently into the owners’ box holding Phoebe’s hand tight. He smiled down at his bouncing niece, with her bright eyes and her own Bucky kit. She was talking a million miles a minute, reminding him of Keeley, chattering all about how well she knew the Whippets would do and asking if Roy was really going to take her onto the pitch after the match if the Whippets won. Her yammering only stopped so she could give Keeley a hug and take her seat next to the blonde.

“Ready to see your girl in action?” Keeley teased over Phoebe’s head as Roy took his seat.

His broad smile would have been enough of an answer. “She’s gonna be so fucking brilliant,” Roy laughed. “I can fucking feel it.” He narrowed his eyes at Phoebe’s expectant face. “Add it to my tab,” he grumbled.

To his surprise, Phoebe shook her head. “You get a free pass today, Uncle Roy,” she informed him earnestly. “It’s a very big day for Bucky and you’re probably very stressed.” She nodded, her demeanor comically matter of fact. “So, I’ll let it slide. Just for today.”

“Thanks, Pheebs,” he chuckled, kissing the top of her head. He nodded to Rebecca as she took her spot on Keeley’s other side. “Boss,” he greeted with a salute.

“Coach Kent,” she replied, a sparkle in her eye as she saluted back. “Beautiful night for a game, hmm?” Despite her calm tone, Roy could see the way her fingers drummed on her lap nervously.

He smirked at her. “Ready to be the owner of two winning teams?”

She shook her head, holding back a laugh. “Not thinking about it,” she announced firmly. “I am just going to enjoy the match, cheer for our girls, and feel proud of them no matter what.”

Keeley, Roy, and Pheobe all just stared at her until a smile broke out across her face.

“Alright, yes, I’m fucking ready!” She turned her attention to the field, where the Whippets were beginning to line up. “Let’s go, Whippets!”

The quartet were joined in the box by Beard and Nate and Jamie, who looked quite comfortable wearing Kira Malone’s name on his back. There were deafening cheers all around as the Whippets were introduced. Roy’s whole body felt warm as he bellowed their names; even without being head over heels for their manager, Roy would feel beyond proud of these women. He’d watched them work all season long, through sweat and injuries and fatigue and the harsh media. And they’d done it all with smiles on their faces and their heads held high. They were impressive and inspiring, and Roy already knew they would win that trophy.

And they had ninety minutes to do it.

After the players were introduced, the Whippets’ coaches stepped forward to shake hands with the opposing coaching staff.  Of course, every eye in the owners’ box turned to Roy with mischievous smirks on their faces.

Not that Roy noticed. He was too busy jumping to his feet so he could cup his hands around his mouth and bellow, “Let’s fucking go, Buck!”

With that colossal voice of his, no one was surprised to see the manager look up in their direction. Her red-lipped smile was clear as day, and they all oohed teasingly when they saw her blow a kiss up towards them.

“Obviously that was for me,” Jamie joked, turning around and winking at his manager.

“Fuck off,” Roy chuckled as he resumed his seat. He gave the striker a light shove before turning his attention back to the pitch. Fuck, how was he supposed to focus on the match that was starting when she was down there, looking strong and confident and powerful- not to mention gorgeous. His heart hammered in his chest as he watched her in her element, shouting excitedly at her team and reaching out for Luke’s hand every now and then. Some part of him wanted to watch her forever; the other part of him couldn’t wait for the ninety minutes to end so he could wrap his arms around her and celebrate her victory.

A stray piece of popcorn smacked him in the temple and diverted his attention.

Keeley shot him that shit-eating grin and tossed a fresh piece of popcorn into her mouth. “You’re drooling, Roy-o.”

He narrowed his eyes at her and reached over Phoebe’s lap to steal a handful of Keeley’s popcorn. “Yeah, yeah,” was all he could manage. He smiled down at Pheobe, whose attention was rapt with the match in front of her. “Having fun?” he asked loudly, amused to find that her trance was just as intense as the one he’d just been in.

All the little blonde could do was nod, mouth slightly agape, as she watched the Whippets score their first goal of the match. The entire stadium was on their feet, deafening with their shouts and cheers as the players embraced. But of course, the only thing Roy could see was their manager and the way she looked up at the owners’ box, right at him.

~

Lucas was holding my hand so tight he was going to cause permanent damage to my blood circulation. Not that I cared; we had succeeded in keeping the game tied 2-2 all through stoppage time, and now Amanada Camacho had managed to secure a penalty kick. With my free hand, I gripped my necklace tightly, as if the little gold charm would somehow direct Amanda’s kick into the right direction.

The forward made her move, running towards the ball, and gave a powerful kick-

That sailed perfectly into the corner of the goal, out of the goalie’s reach.

In unison, Lucas and I let out sharp screams and crashed into each other’s arms, trading kisses on cheeks and foreheads. When the referee blew her whistle, we sprinted onto the field, greeting our mob of Whippets in a pile of hugs that evolved into a mountain of players and staff tumbling over each other. It was loud and chaotic- and beautiful. Somewhere in the reveling, tears had formed in my eyes, but they didn’t fall until I found myself face to face with Rebecca’s glowing smile and own teary eyes.

“Well done,” she said simply, wrapping me in a tight hug. “Well fucking done.”

I melted into her embrace- fuck, how was this woman so perfect that even her hugs were the best?- and finally let the tears fall. “Thank you for believing in me,” was all I could manage.

She shook her head. “That’s just the Richmond way,” she chuckled as Keeley approached us.

The blonde wrapped us both into a group hug, chattering about how brilliant the girls had been, how brilliant I had been, how we were going to have the biggest celebration ever once we left the stadium, how I’d better have brought a change of clothes like she’d instructed me so we could party properly.

But her excitement was drowned out by my beating heart when I caught sight of a pair of beautiful brown eyes sparkling at me.

“Kent!” I shrieked, breaking free of my bosses’ warm embraces. I sprinted towards him, this time under stadium lights and falling confetti rather than pouring rain, and launched myself into his arms. He caught me with ease, lifting me and letting me wrap my legs around him. With a couple of first place finishes under our belts, we were finally free to be as publicly insufferable as we wanted- which I planned on taking full advantage of. I figured a dramatic kiss on the pitch was a good start, and Roy seemed to agree as he attached his lips to mine hungrily.

“So. Fucking,” he huffed into my mouth between kisses, “Proud.” He held me tighter, pressing my chest harshly to his. “You’re amazing.”

I finally removed myself from the kiss so I could bury my burning hot face in his shoulder. He let me plant my feet back on the ground, but kept his arms firmly around me. “Roy,” I murmured, realizing I had something important to tell him. “I-”

“Bucky!” Phoebe jumped onto my back, nearly knocking me over.

“Pheebs!” I laughed, turning away from Roy so I could hug his niece. “I’m so glad you came,” I gushed. “Your team wins a championship next, right?” When I glanced up at Roy over Phoebe’s head, he was already gazing at me, something soft on his face. He’d been doing that a lot lately, I realized as I returned his smile. This gentle stare that held something significant, something I felt sure one of us would break down and say soon. Something I’d wanted to say since I first ran out in the rain to him.

But I didn’t have time to think about that. Not when my team was calling for me to join them to be crowned the Women’s League champions and hoist the trophy in the air and beam with pride as cameras flashed in our faces.

I was still beaming as I held Roy’s hand in the club the Greyhounds and Whippets took over to celebrate both of our victories; Rebecca was something of a blubbering mess as she took the microphone early in the night and thanked both clubs for their hard work, thanked our coaching staffs for surviving the wild ride that had been our season (Beard raised his eyebrows in our direction, clearly remembering being frustrated enough to lock us in a shed), and above all thanked Keeley for being her partner in the adventure of establishing what she knew would be a great legacy of women’s football in Richmond.

By the time Rebecca finished and called me up to make my own speech, I was close to joining Rebecca in her tears; unfortunately, I knew I wouldn’t look as graceful as she did once my waterworks began flowing. So instead, I focused on smiling as I kissed her cheek and took the accepted the microphone from her.

“How’re we feeling, Richmond?” I was answered with cheers and shouts from our teams and their loved ones. “I’ll try to keep this brief so we can get back to partying- although my Whippets probably already know I’m not as capable of brevity as the Greyhounds say Coach Kent is.” The mere mention of Roy’s name provoked catcalls and wolf whistles from both squads. “Calm down,” I laughed, shaking my head when I caught Roy’s not-really-annoyed eyeroll aimed at Jamie. “I just want to say thank you,” I continued once the commotion subsided. “Thank you to the Whippets, for all of your incredible work and dedication. I think we made it clear to the Women’s Super League and all of England that W.F.C. Richmond has arrived.” Cheers again filled the club, as well as my heart. “Thank you to our fearless leaders Keeley and Rebecca, for believing in us every step of the way.” Keeley’s little bow alongside Rebecca’s refined wave had me giggling into the microphone. “A special thanks to our dear Greyhounds. It was an adjustment learning to work together-” Coach Beard’s exaggerated groan could be heard loudly over everyone else’s teasing hums. “-but we managed.” I shot Roy a wink that was returned with a blown kiss. “And, personally, more than anyone else I have to thank my right-hand man.” My eyes found Lucas’s. “Luke,” I sighed. “You formed me into the player I was so proud to be. You mentored me into the coach I’ve become. You were insane enough to follow me here for this adventure, you held my hand during every scary moment and picked me up every time I fell. We came here for greatness-” I shrugged, gesturing to the assembled group of champion athletes. “- and I think we fucking found it.” Both teams hollered in agreement, but still managed to hear my last few words: “Richmond on three! One, two, three-”

“RICHMOND!”

In a blur of cheers and hugs and kisses, I finally found myself back in Roy’s embrace, accepting the chaste kiss he pressed to my lips.

“Wanna sneak off for a moment?” he hummed in my ear. “After that, I need to give you a proper kiss. And if I do that here, I think Beard might actually be fucking ill.”

I leaned into his touch. “Can’t have that,” I teased back.

We wandered away from the bar, ignoring the eyerolls from our friends when they caught sight of our lovesick expressions. We had warned them early on; they were going to miss the days of our screaming matches and insults. These days, instead of walking in on arguments, they walked in on make out sessions. Jamie had more than a few times accused us of trying to make him go blind. Even Keeley grimaced when I asked if she wanted to continue Manager Mondays next season, clearly regretting asking us to be more affectionate once we were public.

All season everyone bitched at us about getting along. We were only giving the people what they wanted.

Roy clearly knew what he wanted when he found a dark, isolated corner where he could press my back against a column that hid us from view. His mouth melded with mine as his hands lazily stroked up and down my sides. I sighed against his kiss and snaked my arms around his neck, pulling him flush against me. My mind was filled with thoughts of the weeks ahead of us; sure, we’d have a shit ton of press, but once the circus was over, this was all I wanted to worry about. We’d floated the idea of going on some fabulous vacation together, turning our phones off and isolating ourselves in a little bubble of sex and food and laughter. I’d told Roy we could settle plans once the seasons were ended, which he had seemed thrilled about. Or at least as thrilled as Roy could manage. But as I kissed him harshly and melted in his arms, I briefly considered that spending our entire break locked in his house with nothing but takeout, movies, and his bed sounded just as good as whatever destination he had in mind.

Still, we’d worked hard and gone through a lot; we deserved a damn vacation.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he mumbled as he began to wander down my neck. “Seeing you on the pitch today… and up there with your speech…” He groaned softly and pressed a slow kiss to my collarbone. “Don’t think I’ve ever loved you more than I do right now.”

My grip on him tightened as my body tensed up. Not bothering to hide my wide smile, I tugged at him until his face was inches away from mine. “You love me?”

His smile was sloppy and bashful, my favorite sight. “Fucking ’course I do,” he murmured as he brushed some hair out of my face. “You’re something special, you know that? I think I’ve loved you since that moment in the shed at the fucking retreat, hearing you say we were both going to win the whole fucking thing. Called it ‘fairy tale shit’.” He touched his nose to mine. “This right here, this is some fairy tale shit.”

“It is,” I breathed before closing the space between your mouths, pulling Roy into a tender kiss. Before I could deepen it into something a bit harsher, he pulled back, eyebrow quirked playfully. “What?” I chuckled.

“I love you,” he whispered, raising both eyebrows now.

I nodded, trying to hide the grin that was growing on my face. “So I heard.”

He rolled his eyes and took my face in his hands. “Anything you care to say to me, Coach Buck?”

He knew. Of course he fucking knew. He knew from the way I kissed him and the way I looked at him and the way I held him close whenever I could. He knew from the way we made love at night and made breakfast together in the morning. He knew from the way our fingertips brushed when we passed each other at work. He knew from the million little things we shared every day.

But sometimes, a fella needs to hear the words.

“Fine,” I huffed, all faux exasperation as I tugged his face back towards mine. “I guess I love you too.”

Taglist: @optimisticsandwichgladiator@reading-blogs@callmecasey81@ladygrey03@puckyou-forpuckssake@royalestrellas@shineforever19@rae4725@burnafter-reading@her-fandom-sanctum@infinetlyforgotten@giggling-sewer-ginger@whataloadofmalarkey@agentstarkid@kingleahhh@tortilla-maria1@geekgirl1996@amatswimming@meg-ro@spicyraccoonlordking@spaghetti-dad187@needlesthreadandbuttons@elissaaa@imsoluckyeverythingworksoutforme@reverieisaway@djskakakaksjsj-blog@thatonedogwithablog@allthetroubleiveseen@sunderland-6@netflix-addict@paranormal-is-my-life@jill2629-blog@itsbuzzfeedbitch@pretzelactivist@amieinghigh@kashee-h@beingalive1@mythicalbinicorn@needyomega@kno-way-home@janalustare@sssatorus@its-a-rich-mans-world@confessionsofatotaldramaslut@hesitant-alien33@katie-sheep-111@bonesbonesetc@seacactusplant@thebookwormlife @dreamscape22 @rae4725@timelordhunterandmysterysolver@littleesilvia@anonurs@itswhateveripromise@chewymoustachio @gcidrvsh @katdahlali @ohwauwdoritos @lemoonandlestars @perfectwhispersvoid@seatbacksandtraytables@kingleahhh@maackiimoo @isuspectitwasthenargles @bannsshheeebiittcchhhh @charkachow @gcstnml @queen-of-the-downtown-scene

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Steve Harrington never thought he'd become passionate about photography, but here he was, crouching with a camera in the bushes, slowly waiting for the sun to set.

It was kind of funny - first he was a grade A douchebag in high school, then he got his girlfriend kind of rightfully stolen by Jonathan Byers, but instead of going deeper in to the asshole territory, he really tried to be better. One part of that was hanging out with Nancy and Jonathan sometimes, just drinking, joking and marvelling at how he got two good friends out of a shitty situation.

Jonathan asked him to snap a picture of him and Nancy to send to his mom when the four of them, his best friend Robin included, visited a local fair, and walked him through the very dumbed down basics - how to choose the angle, keep the picture sharp, composition, all of that.

And Steve fell in love.

He started observing Jonathan when he was working, snapping pictures for the local newspaper. And Jonathan was so patient with him, always commenting on what he was doing, even waiting for Steve to take notes.

On his next birthday, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan got him his first camera.

Finally free of his high school persona, Steve began feeling much more at ease just observing, not participating. Unlike Jonathan who found beauty in people and social interactions, Steve decided to focus on the nature.

Several years later, he was a wildlife photographer and he loved his job. He loved the challenge, the wait, the best shots and the worst ones too, with blurry curious animals nibbling on his hair or his shorts.

He was still trying to get out of his comfort zone, always challenging himself. And today, the subject of his shoot were bats, mysterious, misunderstood and absolutely cute.

Steve readied his camera at the flapping of wings. Slow. Patient. Don't rush it.

Two hours in, he was convinced that there was no more adorable thing in this world than a yawning bat. He was about to finish for the night and go home, take a hot shower, but one of the bats was making the cutest poses, almost...winking? Steve couldn't stop taking more and more shots.

He had no idea how it happened, but there was a quiet whoosh and where the bat was, suddenly a slim, pale man stood, with wild long hair and a seductive grin. Also, he was naked. Yep.

"No need to hide. If you wanted a picture, all you had to do was ask, pretty boy," the man said and approached Steve, flashing him a grin...a grin with very sharp, white canines.

Instead of something logical, like running away or fainting, Steve licked his lips and raised his camera. "Um. Consider this me asking?"

The man - Eddie, as he later introduced himself - stared at him blankly, then started laughing and Steve joined him, too loud in the quiet of the night.

In the morning, Steve found himself in a warm bed, with a memory card full of very marketable bat pictures and some private ones too, for his eyes only.

As Eddie nuzzled against his neck and the two tiny wounds there, Steve thought that yep, he definitely loved his job.

[jennay]

You were Wearing Converse

Request: Hey bestie! So I have an idea for a request and you can write it however you see fit (I trust you). Maybe reader is a new assistant for Bryan to help takes photos for the shows and Noah starts getting feelings as the tour progresses and gives reader little smiles and goofy faces when she’s taking pictures of him? Maybe it can lead to him getting the guts to ask reader out and they go on a date on an off day.

An: ok first of all I'm nervous. Second of all I love this and I hope you all enjoy. I had pictures for imagination of the photoshoot but the links weren't working 😭 thanks for bearing with me. If you want to be added to the tag list let me know.

Heres the picture of the duck drawing that was mentioned ( I don’t know who originally did it but I love them for it)

Noah Master List

Words are about 3600ish

"You've got to be kidding me." You sigh as you browse through the photos on your laptop.

Bryan leans over to see what you're looking at. He compares his shots with yours. He settles back on the couch and crosses his legs. "Do you think he's doing it on purpose?" He wonders, his eyes studying the image of Noah making a face at you. "He never pulls that crap in my photos."

You keep scrolling, hoping for a decent one. "Every single one." You exclaim, getting frustrated. "This guy."

Bryan chuckles and shuts his laptop. "Damn it, Noah."

You shake your head and smile despite yourself. "If he does this tonight, I'm done." You joke. "I'm just walking off stage, and that's the end for me." You stand up, setting the laptop on the table of the tour bus. "I'm gonna go talk to him about it."

Bryan's eyebrow raises as he watches you head to the door. "Please be good. I don't want to fire you. We've done so good together on this tour, and if you piss Noah off, I'm gonna end up firing you!"

You swing the door open, smirking at Brian, "I'll be me…and we'll see how that goes. It's been nice working with you, just in case." You joke, "I'll wait till the show's over tonight...maybe that's a better idea." You sigh, "I guess I can stay and check the rest of these pictures and see if there's at least something good from the other three."

That night, you felt adrenaline coursing through your veins as you followed the boys on the stage with your camera, capturing their every move as they rocked to the music.

The crowd was roaring, the lights were flashing, and the sound was deafening. You loved every second of it. You crouched low, zoomed in, and angled your shots to get the best views of them.

You moved swiftly and skillfully, dodging the wires and the fans. You made your way to Noah, standing at the edge of the stage, singing passionately. His voice was raw and powerful, sending shivers down your spine.

You snapped a picture of him, and he looked up at you with a grin. He flashed you the cheesiest smile he could manage, showing his teeth. His eyes sparkled with mischief and joy. You couldn't help but smile back at him, feeling a warm flutter in your chest.

Noah fucking Sebastian was a different person when you were behind the lens. He put on a show for Bryan's pictures, acting tough and cool. He flipped him off, smirked at him, and glared at him with dark eyes. He wanted to look badass for the photos, fans, and image. He played the role of the rebellious rock star perfectly.

But when it came to you, he let his guard down. He was more relaxed and silly. He made faces, winked at you, and stuck his tongue out. He didn't care about looking perfect for you. He just wanted to make you laugh. Half of your pictures were too goofy or blurry to be used for Bryan's Instagram posts or the Bad Omen's official account. But you didn't mind. You cherished those moments of genuine connection with him.

You shook your head, moving out of the way and to Jolly's corner. You could usually get pictures of him without any sass. He was more serious and focused than Noah, but he still had his charm. That was until tonight.

Tonight, he seemed to be in a playful mood as well. He joined Noah in making funny faces and gestures at you, trying to distract you from your work.

You looked across the stage to Bryan, who motioned for you to come closer to him. He had a smirk on his face that told you he had something planned. You wondered what he was up to.

Your eyes met Jolly's again, and you got the perfect shot of him and Noah standing beside each other. They looked like brothers in arms, ready to take on the world with their music. The only downfall? Their tongues were out of their mouth once again.

They looked like two kids having fun, not two grown men performing for thousands of people.

"Fuckers." You muttered as you jogged over to Bryan.

He pointed to Folio, and you nodded without asking questions; you knew Bryan would test your theory. He stayed closer to Noah and Jolly while you stayed near the drummer and bassist, snapping some of the best pictures you've taken the whole tour.

When you turned around, Noah was standing somewhat beside you. He winked in your direction, making your heart skip a beat. You felt entranced by him as he walked closer to you, melting with each smile he gave you. You took that as an opportunity to snap a few pictures of him up close.

For once, he cooperated and gave a fierce look that matched his voice and attitude on stage.

In the pit of your stomach, you felt a weird fear like Noah suddenly turned into a fire demon, brown eyes now black as he danced around the flames. His back faced you as he gave deathly growls into the mic, sending chills down your spine.

As the night ended, you felt better knowing you had a few shots that Bryan could use for his social media posts and promotions. You could save these for your portfolio and some personal memories of this fantastic night with Noah and the rest of the band.

You smile as you watch Noah address the crowd of people who have gathered to see the show. He thanks them for their support and tells them how much he loves them.

The house lights flip on as he and the rest of the band walk off the stage, leaving behind a trail of cheers and applause. You and Bryan are waiting for them at the back, ready to pack up and head to the next city.

Noah quickly walks over to you, his face glistening with sweat and his chest heaving with breaths. He still has that adrenaline rush in his veins, making him look more alive than ever.

"What did you think?" He asks you, smirking as if he already knows the answer.

"I think I'm happy you finally let me get some good shots and let me do my job." You say, playfully pushing his chest with your camera. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?" You tease him back.

Noah laughs, pushing his hair out of his face with his hand. His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and charm. "So I've heard." He says, leaning closer to you.

You can smell his cologne mixed with his sweat and feel a flutter in your stomach.

You want to be mad at him, but you can't. You've only known him and the band for this tour, but you feel a good connection with them. They're honest and genuine, unlike other artists you've worked with. They don't live off the drama of the industry; they just love making music and sharing it with their fans. And Noah... he's something else.

He's talented, charismatic, funny, and sweet. He always makes you laugh or blush with his jokes and compliments. He's also incredibly handsome, with messy hair, a stubbled chin, and muscular tattoed arms. You've caught yourself staring at him more than once and noticed him doing the same.

You give him one last smile before turning around to leave. You have a lot of work to do before the next show, and you don't want to keep him from his friends or fans.

"See ya later, Noah." You say over your shoulder.

As you turn around, you feel a gentle tug on your wrist, stopping you from moving forward.

"Wait," Noah calls out.

You turn around again, looking up at him with curious eyes. What could he possibly want? You wonder.

"Go out with me tomorrow." He stammers out anxiously, his eyes darting around the room. His face flushes with a deep crimson as he realizes what he just said. He looks at you with a hopeful expression, waiting for your answer.

Your eyes widen with surprise, your mouth dropping open. He was flirtatious with you, but you thought that was part of his charming personality.

You never expected him to ask you out on a date. "Me?" You gasp in disbelief, pointing at yourself. "No." You nervously laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. Your eyes widen even more when you realize what you said and quickly correct yourself. "I mean, yes. Sorry." You laugh again, feeling awkward and embarrassed. "I'm tired. I'm gonna go now. I'll see you tomorrow." You say, holding your camera close to your chest and rushing away from him.

You were getting bored waiting for Noah to return. He wasn't late, but you were growing impatient, wondering what he had planned for the night. You had been on tour with him for a while now, and you were looking forward to spending some quality time together.

You looked around the room, trying to find something to do. Your eyes landed on a little yellow duck beside a Sharpie on the coffee table. You had an idea, one that might keep you entertained till Noah got back.

You sat on the couch inside the tour bus with your legs up to your chest, drawing on what you assumed was a toy duck a fan had probably thrown to one of the guys. You wanted to make it look as much like Noah as possible. You swiped on some scribbles for hair and his tattoos. You didn't consider yourself an artist, but you felt like it would get the point across.

As you drew, you thought about all the fun times you had shared with Noah. You remembered the first time you met him and how he had made you laugh with his silly jokes. You thought about all the adventures you had been on together and how much he meant to you.

You hear the bus door open and footsteps closer to you before Noah stands before you. "Whatchya got there?" He asks while pointing to the duck.

"Oh," you laugh, "I was just drawing." You set the Sharpie down and toss the small rubber duck to Noah.

He chuckles, turning the duck around to observe all the markings. "Is this supposed to be me?" he holds the duck up to his face and smiles softly. "Pretty much twins."

You both laugh as Noah sits down beside you on the couch. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago. Long enough to do my art project." you smile brightly. "So what's the plan, Romeo?"

"Well," he drapes his arm over your shoulder, "Matt's letting us use his rental for the night. I signed up for a cooking class, so there's the food part. Anything you want to do?"

You shrug. "I'm bringing my camera," you say, pointing to the table. "Maybe a little photo shoot is in order because with all the bullshit photos you've given me…. I deserve at least that." You giggle.

He nods knowingly, "OK, but I get to take some of you too. It's only fair."

You roll your eyes at him, "I don't know about that. Maybe if you're lucky, should we head out or?" You stand up, looking down at your casual clothing. "Am I dressed appropriately?"

Noah leans forward, a smile on his face. "If you aren't dressed appropriately, then I sure as fuck need to change."

You shake your head and let out a giggle. "You look good. You always do."

He stands up and follows you to the door, "Stop it." He blushes and tries to hide his face in his sweater. "Let's get out of here."

The drive to the cooking class wasn't awkward like you thought it would be. You spent a significant amount of time laughing and giggling like normal. Noah let you choose the music that surprised you, mainly because he made fun of everything you listened to. He listened with a smile, promising he wouldn't criticize your singing voice. He encouraged you to dance with him and act like an idiot.

As you both arrived at the cooking class, you felt a sense of excitement and anticipation. You were both eager to learn something new and have fun together. Noah was the perfect partner for this adventure.

He was charming, witty, and always knew how to make you laugh.

Throughout the class, you worked together, chopping vegetables, stirring sauces, and tasting each other's creations.

Debating which was better, you swore it was his, but he denied it, claiming yours was better. You were the more experienced one, after all.

You were thrilled to get your chance to shine finally. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. Photos. Photos that he promised you as compensation for all the crappy shots he forced you to take on stage.

"Oh, I see. You just want to keep a collection of my photos to stare at when I'm not around." He jokes as he follows you down the street.

"I want photos to show that I'm a damn good photographer and I didn't waste a year taking lousy photos of the lead singer," you retort, chuckling. "Come on." You gesture to the dim alleyway.

Noah stays close behind you and rests against the brick wall. His eyes drift to your side, and his jaw drops slightly. "A cat." He points under the fire escape, and instantly, you lose his focus.

You observe as he approaches the cat, making some sounds to attract its attention, and the cat seems fearless, allowing Noah to lift it without any mistrust of humans.

You grin as you witness the two, who have hit it off right away. "How did you-" You hoist the camera and capture a quick shot of Noah and the cat he names Layla. "I can't believe it just let you snuggle up. Noah, you're like a fairy tale hero." You tease, clicking another photo, this time nearer to the two.

Noah smiles from ear to ear, petting the cat. He inches closer to you, leaning in; he lets you pet his new pal. "She's adorable."

You reach out gingerly, "How do you know it's a she, could be a he, maybe it's Leo, not Layla…" You joke while peeking at him, smiling and concealing the grin that wants to show.

"He or she…is very adorable." He corrects himself, making the adorable part sound ironic. "OK, Snow White. It's getting dark can we get a few more shots?"

He looks at you with sandness, letting the cat down. He walks to the brick wall next to you and gazes at you with curious eyes, "Here?" He says, halting in front of the area of the building that has red and green vines crawling across the walls.

You nod, looking while raising your camera. "Take your sweater off." You say, squatting down.

"Trying to undress me now?" He chuckles but follows your request and flings his sweater at you.

"Noah!" You gasp as the sweater softly lands on your face. "You almost made me drop my camera." You fling the sweater over your shoulder, catching a whiff of his cologne. You back away a little, pressing the button to take the photos. "You're really loyal to the band, huh?" You point to his shirt that displays his band logo.

"Always loyal." He mockingly rolls his eyes, "It's not like I have a lot of options, y/n." He turns his head as if to spot something on the far horizon, and you seize this chance to snap a few more photos. He looks intense, and this man claims he doesn't have good angles; what a joke that was.

Suddenly, you hear a loud siren and see flashing lights bouncing off the walls.

A police car pulls up next to the alleyway, and a cop steps out. "Hey! What’re you doing here?" He shouts, walking towards you.

You freeze in panic, clutching your camera. Maybe the alleyway was a little suspicious at this time of night.

"We're just taking some photos, officer. Nothing illegal." He says, trying to sound calm.

The cop looks at you suspiciously, then at the cat under the fire escape. "Is that your cat?" He asks, pointing at it.

You and Noah exchange a glance, then shake your heads. "No, sir. We just found it here. It's very friendly." You say, hoping he won't ask any more questions.

The cop nods, then looks at your camera. “What do you got there?”

Noah steps in front of you as if he knows what will happen next and feels the desire to protect you from something happening to you. "We're not doing anything wrong here, right?" He questions.

The cop frowns, then looks at Noah's shirt. "Are you in a band?" He asks curiously.

Noah nods, smiling slightly. "Yes, sir. I'm the lead singer of Bad Omens."

The cop's eyes widen in recognition. "Bad Omens? My daughter is a huge fan of yours. She has posters of you guys all over her room." He says enthusiastically.

Noah laughs nervously, then looks at you. You smile back at him, feeling relieved.

The cop seems to have forgotten about the photos and the cat. He pulls out his phone and shows you a picture of his daughter holding an album of Bad Omen's from 2016. "Can I get an autograph for her? She would be so happy." He asks eagerly.

Noah agrees and signs his name on a piece of paper, writing a nice message, "Thanks for being a fan otherwise your dad might have arrested me."

The cop laughs at what he's written and thanks him profusely. "You two have a good night. And be careful around here." He says kindly, then gets back in his car and drives away.

You and Noah let out a sigh of relief, then burst into laughter. You can't believe what just happened.

You look at him with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "What the hell just happened?" You whisper, your voice is still shaky from the adrenaline rush. "That was…I don't even know what to say. That was insane."

Noah's eyes are wide with shock. He grabs your hand and pulls you out of the dark alley, away from the scene of your mischief. "Let's get out of here." He says, his voice urgent.

You nod wordlessly, following his lead as he walks quickly to the car. You feel his hand warm and firm in yours, and you squeeze it for comfort. "Noah?" You murmur, looking up at him.

He turns his head to you with a gentle smile, his eyes softening. "What's up?"

"You're holding my hand…" You point out, lifting your linked fingers. You feel a flutter in your stomach as you see him blush.

He clears his throat, "Oh, right, sorry. Do you mind?" He asks, looking nervous.

You shake your head, "No, it's sweet…" You say, smiling back at him. You spot a bench near the lake and point to it. "But I think we need to talk about this and what it means." You say, feeling serious.

He nods and follows you to the bench, sitting close to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. "OK," He says, crossing his legs casually. "Let's talk." He says, grinning at you.

You take a deep breath, "Well, what happens after the tour ends? We live in different states and I travel for work just like you do for different musicians. I'm never in one place." You say, feeling worried.

He sighs heavily, "I've been thinking about this before I asked you out… How about you become a full-time member of the crew? You and Bryan are amazing and you don't disrupt our show. You do your work and you don't cause any trouble." He says, sounding hopeful.

He tilts his head to gaze into your eyes, anxiety flashing in his. He waits anxiously as you press your lips together and nod. "OK, well, I love that idea but, I have anxiety and I need to know this is realistic with us living in different states." You say, feeling uncertain.

He shrugs, "I think we can make it work if we really care. We can communicate and see each other. It's not hopeless." He says, sounding confident. "I've thought about this since the first time I met you." He admits.

"You don't remember the first time you met me! Lies." You giggle.

He smirks as he stares you in the eyes. "You were wearing converse and that cute ass summer dress. You came in to the studio and I almost had a heart attack."

You look at him with a shy smile, feeling your cheeks heat up. He leans in slowly, his eyes locked on yours. He brushes his lips against yours softly and gently. You close your eyes and kiss him back, feeling a spark in your heart. He wraps his arms around you and deepens the kiss, making you melt in his embrace. You run your fingers through his hair and pull him closer. He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

"I really like you, Noah." You say, feeling happy. "But I'm terrified."

He smiles and kisses your nose. "I really like you too." He says, "I'm terrified, but at least we can feel like this together." He teases. "We'll make it work. I have a good feeling about it."

You snuggle with him on the bench allowing his arms to wrap around you and watch the stars twinkle on the lake. You decide to follow your heart and see what happens. In the long run, you knew this would be worth it. Noah was worth it.

Tags: @thisbicc @yumikitten @lma1986 @chemicallady @a-villain-vying-for-attention

[baxteravenue]

HOW TO FAKE IT 2

part i.

summary: when jack and yours management team come together to create a perfect pr relationship you and jack must do your best to keep it as professional as possible... but when you have to spend a year together the lines between real and fake can become a little blurry.

STAGE TWO:  A Little Bit Of Water

It had been maybe three weeks since your trip to Louisville with Jack, where you got to spend some time with his family and friends. You were glad everyone in his circle loved him and that he trusted them because for the entirety of the time that you were with him there beside the random fan picture there was really nothing else that tied the two of you together. 

But now it was game time, because the two of you were back to the real world. 

“And you're wearing Tommy?” You asked wrapping your arms around Jack as the two of you walked into the hotel the both of you were staying at, noticing all the lingering people who were not subtle with their secret picture taking.

He nodded, looking down at you stealing a sip from your Starbucks. “Mm that’s too sweet Y/N.” 

You shrugged, “I like it sweet.”

“I know you do.” He winked at you, making you laugh.

“I’ll drink some Phocus next time.” 

“Okay actual question, do you actually like it?” Jack asks you as he presses up for the elevator.

You’re silent for a moment before you shake your head earning a dramatic look from him. “It’s not that it’s not good, it's just that I don't like energy drinks.”

“Oh but you’ll drink a twelve pack of coke in like a day?” 

You frowned, “Leave my caffeine addiction alone.”

The elevator opened up letting the two of you walk in and just as it was about to close for the two of you another person walked in pressing another floor. You politely smiled at the person. 

It was quiet before the lady turned to the both of you before smiling again, “Do you mind if I get a picture with you? I mean my daughter would kill me if I didn't. She loves your latest EP, what's it called, Honeymoon Avenue?”

You smile, nodding your head excitedly. “Of course baby, can you take the picture?” You ask Jack.

He nods, “I got y'all with a good picture.”

Jack gently takes the phone from the lady’s hand taking as many pictures of you two, smiling, hugging and laughing. You even record a video for her daughter who you learned is named Jasmine.

The two of you say goodbye as she gets off on her floor leaving you two alone for a minute longer before getting off on your floor. 

“You’re so kind and gentle with all of them, you put me to shame.” Jack smiles at you as you enter the two bedroom suite the two of you are sharing to get ready. 

“I try to be as kind as I can be, I know what it’s like to be awkward and stuff and just say things at the wrong time.” I laugh, “I was homeschooled so…”

“That makes sense.” Jack laughs along.

You push him gently, “Jerk.”

Jack pulls you into him on the small couch, shaking his head. “I’m just messing with you sunshine.”

You can’t help but notice all the freckles on Jack’s face as he speaks closely to you and you feel woozy at how blue his eyes are and you can see all the crinkles near his eyes. You stand up fast almost falling over, “Hair and makeup is here I have to take a shower.”

Jack gives you a confusing look before nodding. “Okay, I’ll let them in when they knock. Neelam and Iris should be here any minute anyways.”

You can’t even respond to him, all you can do is throw a thumbs up and shut the door behind you. 

“Oh fuck no, this can’t be happening.” You mumble. 

Jack actually has no idea what just happened and can’t even think too much about it because a whole glam team is entering the room as soon as you shut the door behind you. 

You and Jack ride separately to the VMA’s since he has to be there earlier since he’s performing and presenting. You’re excited to see him bring out Fergie.

You get out of the car and are immediately led to the carpet where fans are lined up behind barriers and cameras flashed every second. You waved at the loud crowd to your left, immediately backing up to take pictures.

“Y/N, I knew you were going to be here!” A girl screams and you laugh. 

“You look so good!” 

“I love you all so much!” You practically scream giving as many people as you can hugs, and taking selfies.

“Where’s the new music girl? And tour?” 

You bring your index fingers to your lips, “Patience is key!” 

You pose for several pictures before being led to a few people for short interviews. 

“Hello gorgeous, you look stunning.” A random interview compliments you as you walk up to them.

“Thank you, you look absolutely gorgeous as well.”

“Your outfit is seriously so simple but stunning, very classic.”

You nod, “I had to take some inspo from Mimi, the queen, her VMA look from 1997 has always been etched into my brain so I had to pull that inspiration from her.”

“Well you are pulling it off. What about music should we be looking out for that?”

You shrug, “Maybeeeee.”

You move on getting mostly the same questions. 

“And Jack Harlow?”

You know that they want you to slip up but you just give them a cheeky grin, “He’s performing today isn't he? I like his song First Class, so I’m excited to hear that.”

You’re getting escorted away before she can even respond to you.

“Good?” You ask Iris.

“Just enough.” She winks back leading you to your seat that’s right next to Jack who’s opening up the show.

Right before it’s about to begin though Neelma rushes through pulling you up, whispering something in Iris’ ear and before you know it you’re being dragged away backstage to fake airplane set. 

“First Class set, makes sense.” You giggle as you walk up to Jack who's getting mic’d up. 

You see everyone else, random models who are seat filling and several celebrities. 

Fuck it, let’s put on a show. 

You place a soft kiss on his lips, “Kill it baby.” 

Jack looks taken back for a second before pulling you back onto him and placing another kiss on your lips, “Two times for good luck.”

They lead you to your seat right across from Becky G and when you know he can’t see you touch your lips a bit. 

“You two are so cute.” You hear the familiar voice of Becky G, “You both compliment each other really well.”

You smile shyly, “Thank you.”

Just as you thought the performance is a hit and goes ever so smoothly except for when you can’t keep a straight face as Jack wraps his famous pineapple juice line to you.

And when he wins his award your heart soars with pride and you’re the loudest in the room.

“I have the most amazing support system, and the sunshine in my life right now is very bright… Thank you.”

You know the cameras are on you but the smile on your face is not for them.

[headfullofpresley]

𝐍𝐘𝐄 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐬 🥂 | 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

Warnings: strong language, alcohol consumption, el and the guys being unhinged with fireworks, clubbing, drunk elvis and drunk reader (can you tell i need a night out? lmao), tiny mention of the colonel, drunk parents, lil bit of smut at the end, mention of throwing up, hangoverssss.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY LOVES!!! 🎆 be careful with your lil fingers and don't forget to drink lots of water before bed to fight off that January 1st hangover ;)

masterlist

New Years Eve at Graceland is even more rowdy than Christmas.

Everyone is there; the guys and their partners, family from both your and Elvis' side, friends from outside of town and even some local fans that you got friendly with throughout time.

Before everyone arrived, you and Elvis made sure valuable things were locked away just in case things would get a little crazy (or more so, if someone got a little too drunk).

Elvis allowed you to create a photo corner in the music room – you'd hung up a mix of gold and silver tinsel curtain in front of the curtains by the window, creating a fun backdrop for the pictures.

You went all out, disco balls and photo props included.

Naturally, you and Elvis matched as he was wearing black and red and you were in a little black dress with red heels.

Drinks and food were served all through the night, keeping everyone satisfied. You and Elvis were good hosts and you liked seeing everyone having fun at your parties.

With the year 1970 only a few hours away, everyone's spirits are high and it doesn't take long before the drinks started doing their job.

Vernon is visibly loosened up, along with your father, trying to get the attention from your female friends even though both their wives are dancing their little hearts out near the dining room.

Both men were rather tough cookies to crack, so you enjoy seeing them like this, even though they are being typical men.

As long as your girlfriends aren't uncomfortable, you're fine with it.

You and Elvis have a full on photoshoot in the music room, with a tipsy Sonny as your photographer.

“Guys, can’t you ask someone else? They keep comin’ out all blurry,” he'd giggle, throwing another failed polaroid on top of the covered piano.

“’S because you keep wigglin’ on those giraffe legs of yours. Give it to me,” Elvis allowed his friend to go back to drinking as he took the camera out of Sonny's hand, turning back to you.

You could've easily used the digital camera, but you wanted to use the polaroid because you liked the aesthetics of it more.

And what Elvis' baby wanted, Elvis' baby got.

You'd pout at him when he told you to pose because you wanted him to be in it, but you did as told and put a glittery '1970' headband on your head as you posed for the camera.

After a few pictures, you switched places and took pictures of him as he used other props to pose with.

More people joined in on the fun and Joe eventually managed to take some cute pictures of you and Elvis, before you posed with the group and so on.

Because there were so many people at the house that wanted both your and Elvis' attention, you two would often be lingering around other people.

You'd catch up with your girls and family and joke around with his fans, while he'd be belting out laughter and jokes with other people.

The more he drank, the louder he got but as long as he'd stay away from the beer and champagne, you knew he'd be fine.

He'd catch your eye from across the room and mouth the words of the song playing to you, or shoot you flirty winks which you gladly returned.

Well before midnight, he found his way back to you and had you pressed firmly against his side as he took you in the kitchen where it was a little less crowded.

The two of you didn't have any special traditions other than a midnight kiss on NYE, but he had recently read something about a Mexican tradition that he wanted to try.

“Or was it from Spain? I don’ remember, honey, but basically we eat twelve grapes and make twelve wishes,” he'd grin as he held up the grapes in front of your face.

“Aren’t we supposed to do this at midnight?”

“Yes, but I really jus’ wanted some grapes,” he'd giggle boyishly, holding out a grape in front of your mouth.

You weren't sure if this was really how the tradition was done, but he made it his own as he'd feed you a grape and make a wish for you instead for himself when he did so.

You went along with it, doing the same as he did.

You were probably doing it wrong, but you liked this little moment you and him were having away from the party.

The Colonel wasn't a big fan of NYE bashes, but he showed up a little before midnight to wish Elvis and the others a happy new year.

You didn't give him much attention; serving him a drink and wishing him an early happy new year, before you made your way outside where Elvis and the guys were setting up the fireworks.

Ofcourse, you had stolen one of Elvis' coats to keep you warm as you sipped on your drink and got your sparklers ready.

Most of the fans were outside as well; the ones attending the party keeping you and some other friends company, younger fans watching excitedly from the other side of the gates.

As the countdown on the TV started, the guys came back to the house to find their way to their partners and to be there to wish everyone a happy new year.

Elvis was right there beside you, his arm swung over your shoulder, apples of his cheeks flushed due to the alcohol as he was smiling brightly while counting down the seconds loudly.

You counted with him, already moving closer to his face to close the distance between you.

When the clock struck twelve, everyone roared out a “Happy New Year!” and kissed and hugged.

As every year, Elvis kissed you deeply, sensually and probably longer than anyone else kissed their respected partners.

“Man, it’s the first kiss of the year. That’s my good luck charm right there,” he'd grin as Jerry and Red eventually pulled him off, pecking your lips a few more times before he allowed himself to be dragged away and onto the driveway to light the fireworks.

Having lit half of them on Christmas Eve, the show wouldn't last as long as usual but they still had enough to draw everyone's attention.

You wished everyone around you a happy new year, sneaking your way inside when (ofcourse) Elvis and the guys found themselves in one of their firework wars again.

You spend some time with your family, wishing them a happy new year and making sure they were still having fun.

At 1 am, all the fireworks had been lit and as the guys made their way back in the house, some people were leaving to attend other parties or go out clubbing.

You, Elvis, the guys and some fans left to go to TJ's Nightclub to dance the night away and go see Alan who was unfortunately working tonight.

Some family stayed behind at Graceland, as they would be staying the night. You weren't worried at all, knowing your mother was sober.

You and Elvis had been repeating yourselves for about an hour when you arrived at the club.

Wishing everyone a happy new year and so on.

Elvis had rented out the place until the early morning hours, but some people that had been invited hadn't been at the house so you were happily greeting old and new friends.

Alan was happy to see you, Elvis and the others, knowing that Elvis wouldn't let him work too hard.

Which he didn't; Alan soon left the work to his co-workers, sneaking away from the bar and into the dancing crowd.

When clubbing, Elvis was usually the type to sit in one of the booths with the other guys and join you for a dance or two... if you were luckily.

This time, he didn't leave your side once – probably because of the drinks he had already nursed at the house and because he wasn't blind, he saw the way some of his male fans were looking at you.

Come to think of it, he figured they were probably your fans rather than his.

You were oblivious to the attention and happy that you didn't have to beg him to dance with you, happily following him as he twirled you around to the rhythm of the music.

“I have a 13th wish for you,” he'd yell loud enough for you to hear him, smiling down at you as he'd have his arms wrapped around your waist.

“What is it, El?”

“My wish for you is that you’ll always be happy and that all your dreams’ll come true. Whether that’s with me, or not,”

“Oh shut it, you big idiot. Ofcourse it’ll be with you,” you'd laugh at the way he slurred his words a little, rolling your eyes playfully.

“I know, jus’ wanted to hear what you were gon’ say,”

He'd grin like a fool, twirling you around again before you even had the chance to reply, laughing at his antics.

Shots shots shots!

So many shots.

Both you and Elvis hadn't learned from your Christmas morning hangover.

It's only NYE once a year, isn't it?

You'd try pretty much every shot on the menu but when you two downed a couple of shots of tequila, you could barely think straight anymore.

Every time someone would walk a little too close to you or look at you for too long, you saw Elvis' jaw clenching and him shooting them the dirtiest look he could muster, no matter to who it was.

You managed to distract him every time though, making him dance or asking him for a lighter even though you had one in your purse.

Thankfully, he kept himself under control.

At around 5 am, you mentioned to Elvis that you were hungry and now the both of you couldn't stop thinking about food.

Most of your friends weren't ready to leave yet, so the both of you snuck out of the club.

Probably not the smartest idea, but since neither of you could drive, you started to walk through downtown Memphis on the hunt for food.

You found it at a 24 hour diner, which was completely empty apart from the people who worked there.

After some autographs being given out by Elvis (which took him a little longer than usual) and small talk, the two of you indulged in the greasiest burger on the menu.

In that moment, your drunk self felt more happy than on any other day and Elvis seemed to feel the same.

But after stuffing your face and going outside for a smoke and some air, it dawned on the both of you that you didn't have a ride back home.

Graceland wasn't exactly walking distance, especially not in the state you were in.

Going back into the diner with Elvis to call your mother to ask if she could pick you up, you felt like a teenager again.

Especially when your poor mother pulled up in her pajamas, laughing at you two after she playfully scolded you.

“’S all Y/N’s fault, ma’am. I didn’t do nothin’,” Elvis laughed from the passenger's seat, fumbling with the radio as your mother kept slapping his hand away, which only made him laugh harder.

“Zip it, Presley,” glaring at him, you'd slap his shoulder.

He would then reach his arm out to you and try to grab you, leaning over his seat which made your mother's scolding turn a bit more serious before she'd crash the car.

Back at the house, it was a surprise you and Elvis managed to make it into the bedroom.

Once you were undressed and freshened up, you were wide awake as you lay next to each other.

Now sex with Elvis while he was this drunk, was do-able. Sex while you were both in this state? A disaster.

You couldn't stop laughing the entire time, making him laugh as well; even when he was balls deep inside of you.

“Goddamnit woman, will ya stop laughing? I can’t focus,”

This would only make you laugh harder, your muscles tightening around him as you did and while he was still laughing, he couldn't hold back a moan.

You had to clasp a hand over both your and his mouth as he decided to fuck you into the mattress nonetheless, your drunk mind praying your family wouldn't hear you.

Your laughter soon died down as he hit your g spot with every thrust and he came inside of you when your muscles wouldn't stop squeezing him.

The both of you were dizzy after; high on colorful cocktails, shots and delicious orgasms.

“Love you, little,”

“Love you too, baby,”

You forced yourself (and him) to clean yourselves up again and once you got back into bed, it didn't take neither of you long to drift off into a deep slumber.

You were more than happy to sleep the first day of the new year away, snuggled up to your man.

The only time Elvis and you did leave the bed, was to run to the bathroom to take turns throwing up the contents of your stomach.

[ashley-amelie]

hello……. may i prompt souyo + swap (the swapped thing is up to you heheh 🫶

hello!! and thank you for leaving me a prompt :3c

the swapped thing I chose was *drumroll* selfies!

I hope you like this! (and that the formatting is okay, oof)

**

Yosuke customizes every entry in his phone's contacts list. It's just what he does. He's been doing it since his first one years ago, when he figured out that he could pair a yellow-orange background with his mom's photo and a green one with his dad's.

So when Yosuke remembers he doesn't have a contact photo for Yu, two weeks after initially exchanging numbers, he fires off a quick text –

> hey prtnr snd me a pic 4 my contacts k??

– and wanders away for a glass of water. He has three messages from Yu when he comes back to his desk and, by proxy, his phone a few minutes later. 

> Sure.

> Is this good?

The third message, only an image file, takes another minute to download. Yosuke smiles a little when he sees it; it's a slim white cat, curled into a tight ball, with only one ear visible.

It's cute, but it's not Yu.

Yosuke sends his response.

> i meant liek a selfie lol

Yu's back-to-back reply –

> Oh.

> I don't have any.

– rouses surprise, suspicion, and then understanding. In that order. 

While Yosuke has only known Yu for all of a month, he's already cottoned on to some of the other boy’s ways and attitudes. And considering how airheaded he seems about his own appearance – how does he not notice all the looks he gets? it's insane! – Yosuke can believe it.

He fully understands how Narukami Yu might not have a single selfie.

Nevertheless, Yosuke presses on.

> take 1??

And finds himself baffled at Yu's response.

> I'll try.

Try? As if it's hard?

The next image Yu sends downloads as slowly as the first, and Yosuke twirls in his desk chair while waiting on it.

As soon as it's done, Yosuke snorts again in amusement.

> dude thats jus ur eye wtf

Not even both eyes; just one, taken so closely that Yosuke can see his fine, silvery lower lashes and the edges where his pupil meets the pale gray of his iris. He'd been meaning to ask if Yu is wearing coloured contacts; from the picture Yosuke still can't tell.

The notification for Yu's next message –

> No good then? Let me try again.

– reorients his thoughts. Was he really analyzing a picture of someone's eye? Yosuke scrubs a hand over his face; the countryside must be turning him into a weirdo.

But, after looking over the subsequent photo that downloads, Yosuke takes it back. He can't be a weirdo when Yu has the entire concept of weird on lock. It's an upside-down, blurry close-up of the bridge of his nose and, honestly, what kind of message is Yosuke supposed to take away from that? 

Other than –

> plz dnt tell me u dnt kno how 2 take a selfie

> here liek this

Yosuke tabs through his image gallery until he finds his favorite selfie. Although it's the same pose as most of his other photos – a peace sign and a flirty wink – he'd felt better than usual that day and the camera noticed.

He ends up spinning in his chair again as he waits; right now, even this is more entertaining than trying to read through his Literature homework.

Yu's messages ping one after another again.

> Thanks.

> You look really happy.

> How is this?

What comes through last is a perfectly clear photo of Yu, smiling slightly, with his cheek resting on his fist. It's a new photo, unlike Yosuke's – the collar of his Yasogami uniform is unmistakable.

He attaches the photo to Yu's contact profile, completing it, and puts his phone aside.

Ugh, homework.

[callibones]

okay ACTUAL doctor who thoughts. 73 yards was really really good but. isnt it haunting that ruby's theme song, the one that played for her here and the one that's been playing for her, is a song she wrote for someone else? her actor's incredible but god. nothing says "i feel like a background character in my own life" like your theme song being about someone else's heartbreak with someone else.

(spoilers for 73 yards ahead!)

except maybe "i am standing 73 yards away from everyone, blurry, and they all pretend not to see me cause if they actually talk to me they despise me." im very much on team Ruby Seems To Have Some Power To Manifest Stories Into Reality. she makes snow appear when she thinks of her birthday. she connects like crazy, as the doctor said, to stuff happening around her. does that connect to kate talking about people inventing spirituality to process the impossibilities they're seeing? i think so.

for some reason, anomalous or not, her perception of herself seems to really, truly be influencing things. it's like she's a literal in-universe Themes Anchor. in a season where the background music is sometimes diegetic and multiple characters have winked at the camera, it makes sense that the parallels here aren't Just themes. i wouldnt be surprised if Themes is some kinda actual force happening via ruby sunday.

saw someone point out the connection between superstition being invoked at the edge of the universe and superstition being all over this episode. doctor who's relationship to its own reality is changing, and it's very exciting to see! things are weird and that rocks. i hope ruby's fucked up. i hope that singer friend she has that made me blush like a lightbulb is also fucked up and we get an episode about her.

other observations:

- the actress playing ruby's mother deserves a billion medals and the world for her range. her character keeps getting into situations and she sells all of them PERFECTLY. she can go from sunny and warm to ice cold on a dime. she's so excellent.

- 73 is the "most random number" in online lore from what ive seen. its the number you make up when its time to make up a number. more evidence that even that distance is arbitrary and part of ruby's conceptualization of things?

- RUBY KNOWS ABOUT THE SUSAN TWIST THING....

- this episode was scarier and better than boom and im so happy we're not past the horrors. this one's going to linger with me for a long time

- i still wish ruby had a gun, though.