#emoji from the google emoji kitchen

[mantasunray-art]

GUYS 😭😭😭😭😭 EVERYONE LOOK IT'S HIM

[righteousenjoymentofthunder]

these from emoji kitchen but its han sooyoung, yoo joonghyuk and kim dokja in that one fic about sooyoung never peeling her mandarines/oranges right and dokja peeling them for her, carrying it on in their friendship even after everything. them three laying under the stars.....

edit: the fic referenced is the overarching story of lilaclavenders's series from fact into fable.

[wonderful-emoji]

yellow and orange emojis? (any theme, go wild)

[skyllion-uwu]

Looks at you like this

[discountskeppy]

moodboard

[no-psi-nan]

Writing Kuboyasu dialogue be like:

[rainbow-nerdss]

7x04 coda

Buck watches Tommy walk away and he feels… he’s not sure, honestly.

Happy? Relieved?

His lips still tingle with the memory of it, the pressure left by Tommy’s kiss. He’s frozen on the spot, right where Tommy left him. He laughs, the quiet sound echoing through his empty apartment. He knows Tommy had to go, had to work, but Buck stands there, watching the spot where he’d just walked out, and he wishes he’d reached for him. Pulled him back in for another kiss, more than just a faint brush of lips. 

He wants to wrap his arms around Tommy’s shoulders, pull him close, lick into his mouth.

Shit, the things he wants to do.

And it’s all new, it’s strange and different and wonderful, because when Tommy kissed him, he felt stubble scratch against his own, and Tommy’s fingers tilted his face up, not down, and even though Buck hadn’t quite managed to set his hand down, hovering it over Tommy’s shoulder in his surprise, he knew what he’d find there—broad shoulders, muscled back, so unlike anything Buck’s known before.

But he wanted it.

He wants it.

And Tommy may be gone, may be halfway across the city, or hell, maybe even in the air by now—Buck’s lost track of the time since he left—but there’s still time. They’re going out on Saturday, on a date. 

He’s going on a date with Tommy. 

Buck finally drags himself away from the kitchen island when his stomach rumbles. He stares into the fridge.

He grabs some leftovers, too much happening inside his brain to cook right now. The microwave turns, and the humming is the only sound in the apartment. 

What does he do now? He can’t just sit back down and get back to work on the bills he was working on before. He can’t just… sit and watch TV. 

He takes out his phone, scrolls for a while, then navigates to google. His thumb hovers over the search bar.

Buck’s never lived a sheltered life. Sure, football locker rooms, navy SEALs, and the fire academy weren’t the most openly queer spaces, but he’s worked in all kinds of bars, alongside all kinds of people. He’s had friends, co-workers, acquaintances from all walks of life.

And he’d never questioned himself. He always supported the people in his life, stood up for them when it was needed. How had he never even wondered whether he might have more in common with them than friendship? 

That he’s… what? Gay? No… Bisexual?

That one feels better. He takes a breath, and the microwave beeps.

He ignores it, tapping his phone to stop the screen from going blank, then types in the search bar.

Bisexual

He clicks on the first link, and then the second, and he keeps scrolling, keeps reading until his eyes burn and his stomach is growling with hunger.

He takes out the now-lukewarm leftovers and shovels them down without really tasting any of it. Bisexual.

His phone pings. A text from Tommy.

Tommy: Busy shift, spending more time in the air than on the ground! Just checking in—still good for Saturday?

Buck bites back a smile as he replies. 

Buck: At least it’s not Q! Definitely still good. 

He hesitates for a moment before adding a heart emoji to his last message and hitting send. Is that too much? Too soon?

Tommy sends back a grin and thumbs up, and Buck lets himself giggle—just a little one, shut up— as he pictures Tommy’s grin, the way his whole face lights up with it. God, he’s cute.

Tommy: You better not use that Q word btw! Whole lapd knows about what happened last time someone on ur shift said that

Buck: Unfair! Was NOT my fault

Tommy: I’m sure… Gtg. call coming in

Buck: Be safe!

How is this the first time Buck’s noticed a guy like that? How has he never seen it before? Most of the articles he’s read are about people who always knew who they were, or figured it out once they understood what bisexuality was. 

For lack of anything else to do, or another message from Tommy to reply to, Buck heads upstairs and changes for bed, not really sure what else to do, just going through the motions. When he lies down, he stares up at the ceiling.

Is this the first time he’s felt something like this for a guy? He forces himself to think back, looking at his life in a whole new light, his friendships, the times he’s felt that same tightness, the need to be seen by someone who wasn’t a family member or a woman.

He thinks of Carter, a kid he played football with, the star of the team, how Buck used to showboat every time they were on the field together, used to play that little bit dirtier against, used to maybe glance at a little more than usual in the changing rooms.

He thinks of Leo, one of the guys he met working at the dude ranch, the one who just seemed to have a way with the horses, who took Buck under his wing on his first day, helped his clueless ass not pull too hard on the reins. Buck thinks about Leo’s hand guiding his, or resting on his thigh, showing him how to balance in the saddle. Buck wanted to do well at the job, wanted more than anything for Leo to look at him, a spark in his eye, and say “Hey, good job, Buckley!”

He thinks of that firefighter in Texas, TK, who Buck had clicked with just about right away. Buck wanted to be friends with him, wanted to keep him around, but he’d shut down Buck’s offer to take him for a drink if he was ever in LA by letting him know he already has a serious boyfriend.

Huh. 

Maybe Buck had been asking him on a date. Maybe this has always been there, under the surface, just waiting to be prodded open. 

And, hell, he realizes with a start. He might actually have a type. Strong, cool under pressure, unnervingly good at their job, able to get under his skin without really trying. 

No wonder Tommy worked his way under Buck’s skin so quickly like that. 

Buck finally remembers Tommy’s parting words as he walked out the door. “For god’s sake, please call Eddie. Now would be a great time—he’s on pain pills.”

He needs to call Eddie. Needs to apologize—Tommy aside, he’s been a dick this week. He hurt Eddie, actually hurt him, all because he let his… jealousy? Crush? Get in the way of his friendship. 

That’s not the way they do things.

It’s late, past eleven. If he knows Eddie, he knows he’ll be awake. Pain meds, plus worry about what’s going on.

He sits back up in bed and dials Eddie’s number. While it rings, he thinks about what to say. “Sorry” is obvious. But when Eddie asks him why? When he leaves a silence, full of understanding and concern, Buck knows he’s never been able to withstand one of those silences. 

“Buck?” Eddie picks up the phone, and Buck’s suddenly choked up, at a loss for words. 

“Hey, Eddie,” he manages. 

Eddie says nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” Buck adds. “For not calling sooner. And for—for hurting you.”

“Buck. You didn’t mean to.”

“I—Eddie, I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I just… I didn’t think, I just… went for it, and I think a part of me knew as I was doing it that I was wrong, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

“So you… meant for this to happen?”

Buck shuts his eyes, shuffles so he can sit against his headboard. “I… Eddie, I never wanted you to… I didn’t want to injure you, I just wanted… Something.”

It’s not an explanation, not even close to it, but it’s all he can give right now. Sure, he could tell him everything. I’m bisexual and I wanted Tommy to pay attention to me, not you, but you didn’t deserve to be caught in the crossfire like that. 

He wants to tell Eddie the whole truth, but not now, not like this, not as some sort of excuse and definitely not over the phone.

Eddie laughs over the phone, and it doesn’t feel mean, but it’s not comforting, either. “You wanted attention,” he fills in.

Buck exhales. “Yeah. Don’t worry, Maddie’s already called me out for acting like a teenage girl.”

Eddie laughs again, but it feels more genuine this time. “Remind me to thank her,” he says. “So, you’re back to normal now? Honestly, I was starting to have flashbacks to my first day.”

Buck… does not think about that day. He doesn’t acknowledge any similarities in his behavior that day and how he’s acted for the past week, because that… that’s not something he needs, right now.

Instead, he just sighs, and says he’s sorry again, and asks if he can make up for it. “Well,” Eddie says, and Buck hears him grunt, like he’s shifting positions. “If you’re free Saturday, I’m taking Marisol out to apologize for spending so much time with Tommy this week, if you could watch Chris? Say, around eight?”

And Buck’s about to say yes, but he stops himself. “I’m so sorry, I have… plans, on Saturday. Raincheck?”

Eddie sighs. “Damn, okay. Guess I’m groveling to Pepa again. You should come over, though. Earlier in the day, I mean. If, uh… you can. Chris misses you.”

Buck’s heart breaks a little. It’s what Tommy was saying, after all, and he can’t believe he’s been dumb enough to let anything get in the way of what he has with Chris, and with Eddie. 

“Sounds great, Eddie. I can come by in the morning, maybe we could go to the aquarium, or something?”

Relief washes over him when Eddie agrees. He’s got this. He’s going to be okay.

When he hangs up, he only feels a slight pang of guilt for lying by omission and not telling Eddie about his actual plans for Saturday night.

He doesn’t feel guilty enough to not send a text to Tommy, though.

Buck: Talked to eddie btw Cleared the air

He’s just about to drift off when he gets a reply

Tommy: Great! Glad you worked things out

Buck doesn’t reply, just smiles into his pillow and lets sleep take him.

[emkayewrites]

Another photo that inspired one of the chapters of ''Curtain Fall', my Lukola fanfiction.

Here's a sneak preview:

It was going to be a hot summer.

She could sense it.

Traditionally, English summer involved occasional rain showers and the need to pull on a warm pair of socks but this year the weather had been consistently dry and warm.  In fact, the fluffy pink socks she had bought to London were still in her suitcase over a month later.

These were the thoughts on her mind that evening as she stepped into the twenty-fifth floor apartment that she was calling a temporary home.  The space was open plan; a kitchen complete with marble worktops that stretched into a living room that was surrounded by large windows. An orange-red sunset painted the city skyline before her. 

She slipped out of her black, open-toed kitten heels and enjoyed the soothing coolness of the floorboards on her sore feet.  She switched on a few lamps, moving around the cream sofa and glass coffee table that took center stage in the living room area.

Ping!

She deliberated ignoring her phone.  All she wanted in that moment was to soak in a bath, then curl into bed and fall into a very deep sleep.  Her better nature advised her against it, recalling that the last time she had been out-of-contact for an entire day was also the last time her mother had almost had a panic attack. 

This was the thing about press days.  They were all-consuming.  Today, it had been swelteringly hot but there had been no opportunity to stop and sufficiently hydrate herself, let alone answer a text message.  She reminded herself that there was a time in her life where she would lose entire days to social media; feeling a sense of shame when she came to the end of her Instagram feed, something she had not known was even possible.

The message was from Luke; it was a screenshot from an article.

The article was titled: Nicola Coughlan wowed in a chic white shirt dress by London designer Simone Rocha. She was greeted with an image of herself: blonde hair expertly parted at one side with bright-red lips.  The dress in question was cinched in at the waist by extra sleeves that functioned as a belt. It was a look that Aimée, her stylist, assured her was sophisticated and fashion-forward. 

“Wow, I know her!” He had commented.

She laughed despite herself, flopping down onto the sofa.

She was still in the dress.  The photo had only been taken a few hours ago and was already featured in Vogue’s Best Dressed At Wimbledon list before she had even had a chance to get home and into a change of clothes.  Life had gradually become strange but since the Derry Girls finale last month, the media and fan attention had ramped up in a very noticeable way.  

“For the last time - get me OFF your Google Alerts, demon.” She texted back, still smiling.

There was an ongoing chain of messages between them that had started since their weekend away.  Some mornings she would wake up to a meme from him.  Other times, she had been the one to share a random musing that sparked a day of back-and-forth commentary, complete with GIFs.  They had continued this pattern despite the reality of her life catching up to her.  Very quickly, she had become an actress that was ending her run on one highly successful show and about to headline another.  Her publicist and agent were inundated which meant she was inundated. 

Now, days were spent at some glamorous event or other and any free time was dedicated to catching up with work emails and her family and where possible, Luke.  Everyone and everything else would have to wait.  This would be her routine until Bridgerton started filming.  Speaking to Luke every day was important.  It reignited the trust and humour that was central to their friendship.  It was not a spark she wanted to lose this close to the start of filming even if some days all she could muster up was an emoji response.

You can read more here:

[illiterateaffairs]

behind the scenes chapter three | friends with professional benefits

masterlist | prev | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 3,410

summary: you and jamie get to know each other. let the games begin.

a/n: this is coming out later than i had planned but i hope it was worth the wait! going to be less busy this coming weekend so hope to share more soon and get a lot of chapters in the queue for you all <3

Five days. It had been five days since you and Jamie agreed on your plan to fake date in front of the entire world. And although you didn’t regret the idea - yet - you’d still had enough time to overthink and suddenly become very nervous about things going wrong. 

You hadn’t seen Jamie since your conversation in the café, but you had various text exchanges throughout the week. At some point Jamie had asked you what your contact name was for him.

what do you mean? it's your name. jamie.

just jamie?

what else would it be?

you’ve gotta add emojis luv if someone sees your phone it's gotta look like i’m ur boyfriend. mine says ur name with like 5 hearts

That’s when you realized you needed to be more thorough than you thought. 

Which is precisely why Jamie was coming over to your flat today. Sure you’d known you needed to get together sooner or later to talk through the plan as a whole, but today you were armed with a checklist of things to cover. 

You’d also talked things over with Margot earlier in the week. And Harry. But that conversation had been a lot more cut and dry. He was over the moon you were doing this, and sent you an email with own list of requirements. It basically started and ended with: be a couple in PUBLIC. 

With Margot, she’d repeatedly asked if you were sure about the whole thing. You’d told her over and over again that, yes, you had never been more sure of anything in your life. Though by the fourth reassurance, you weren’t sure how convincing you sounded. 

Either way, you were committed to this and dammit if you weren’t going to see this through. This was just another role you had to play. It’s what you did best.

From your spot on your coach, you nearly fall off of it when there’s a knock on your door. 

Jamie.

Its go time. 

You put your laptop down on the coffee table and jog over to the front door. Pulling it open, you’re actually surprised to see Jamie standing on your doorstep holding a bouquet of flowers. 

You squint, “Are those for me?”

Jamie scoffs, “No, they’re for your elderly neighbor I just passed. I’m hoping you can introduce me.” You roll your eyes but give him a smile, “Of course they’re for you. We have to make this look convincing right?”

“Jamie, there’s nobody else here.”

“Okay, but what about paparazzi? One could be lurking about and catching me visiting your flat would be the perfect kickstart to this whole thing.”

You chuckle, “I doubt there’s any photographers around here.” Still you look around behind him, and after seeing no one, you pull him into your apartment and shut the door.

“Still, you know Google Earth. Always taking pics,” Jamie jokes, laughing to himself as he steps further into your living room.

You stop in your place before you follow him, “Did you just quote Parks and Rec?”

Jamie spins around, “You understood that reference?” 

You laugh in disbelief, “Of course. It's one of my favorite shows.”

“Same,” he smiles, “Used to watch it with my Mum all the time in high school.”

“I love that,” you smile back, closing the gap between the two of you so you can take the flowers from his hands, “These are pretty by the way. Let me go put them in a vase but feel free to make yourself at home.”

You’re quick to fill up a vase in your kitchen, leaving the flowers on the counter, but are surprised to return to Jamie still standing in the middle of your living room, looking around.

“This place doesn’t seem very you,” he comments as you return, plopping down on the couch.

“How would you know? You just met me,” you ask teasingly.

“Well, that’s the point of today isn’t it,” Jamie teases back, joining you on the couch, “Still, it seems very posh and you seem a lot more chill.”

You nod, “Well, I’m just renting this place while I’m here so not much of it is mine. I’m thinking about decorating it a bit to make it more homey.”

“Well if you need any recommendations for places to look, I know some stores that have cool shit.”

“I may have to take you up on that.”

You lean forward and grab your laptop again. You glance over the excel sheet you had open and try to figure out where to start.

“What you lookin’ at over there?” Jamie asks curiously, trying to peak over.

“I want a way to keep track of all the things we need to figure out like our cover story and just things we need to know about each other,” You explain, turning your computer towards him.

His eyes widen at the very detailed and colored coded document you had laid out. “Wow, that’s…intense.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, I may be a creative but I am very Type A. I also don’t want to fuck this up so I think it would nice to have a place to keep track of everything. I can email this to you if you want? Or ooh! I can upload it to Google Drive so we can both edit it.”

Jamie shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his face, “Sure. Where should we start, Boss?”

“Well, I feel like the most obvious thing we need to cover is how did we meet? How did we get together?”

Jamie’s thoughtful for a second before shrugging, “I feel like we could use how we actually met, you know? It’s realistic because it's actually real. And keeps it simple. We ran into each other and got coffee, or hot chocolate, as some may prefer.”

“Nice, you remember my preferred beverage,” you smile as you start typing in the doc, “Who asked who out? Did we do it that day?”

“You asked to exchange numbers, but I reached out a couple days later. Maybe we went on our first date last weekend?”

You nod thoughtfully, “That works.”

“It would’ve had to have been Friday, though,” he adds, “I had a match Saturday afternoon and told Keeley about seeing someone that night.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “I filmed late on Friday night.”

Jamie shrugs, “I could’ve waited up for you. Got drinks at a bar?”

Your lips quirk up at the thoughtfulness - even though it was made up.

“Okay,” you continue filling out your spreadsheet, “I have a list of things that one might normally know about a significant other, but since our “relationship” is so new, I think we only need to cover what you would on a first date.”

Jamie’s eyebrows furrow, “Like…what?”

You glance up at him, “What? Jamie Tartt’s never been on a date before?”

He laughs awkwardly, “I’ve obviously been on dates. But we didn’t really do a lot of talking.”

You roll your eyes, “Oh lovely. Alrighty, then, let's just focus on what normal people do the first time they’re getting to know someone.”

“Fine,” Jamie sighs, “Hit me.”

“What’s your…favorite color?”

“Seriously?”

“What?” you laugh, “It's a completely normal question.”

“Yeah, for five year-olds,” he frowns, crossing his arms.

“Come on, you’re seriously going to sit here and tell me you don’t have a favorite color?”

“I dunno,” he shakes his head looking around, “Maybe, blue?”

“Blue? Come on, that’s such a boy answer,” you mock.

“Well, I am a boy if you haven’t noticed,” Jamie throws back defensively, “Its my favorite color your asking, is it not?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, amused by how seriously he’s taking this, “It is. Why blue then?”

He shrugs, “Dunno. It’s one of Richmond’s colors. Was a Man City color, which is the team I used to play for and my hometown team. I remember my mum wearing it a lot growing up.”

A genuine smile starts to form on your face as you listen to him ramble. It was the second time he’d brought up his mom. “Are you and your mom really close?”

He turns to you, a little taken back, “You ask about parents on a first date?”

You shrug one shoulder, “If it's going well.”

Jamie has to turn back away from you so he doesn’t do something stupid like blush. He decides to focus on answering your question. “We are. She’s sort of like...my rock, I guess? She’s actually the one who got me into football.”

You nod, listening intently, “And your dad?”

You notice Jamie tense slightly, but he turns back to you with a half smile, “Our relationship’s a bit complicated. Maybe that’s more of a story for a fifth date or something.”

You give him a kind smile, “That’s fair.” And then you turn back to your laptop screen.

“What about you?” Jamie asks after a beat.

You look up with raised eyebrows, “Me? My favorite color is yellow.”

Jamie chuckles, “Noted. But no, I meant, what's your relationship with your parents like?”

“Oh!” you chuckle lightly with him, “My mom is the best. Feels like she might get along with yours; she’s the reason I’m an actor.” Jamie’s smile grows, “She did literally everything in the world to support me even though she was a single mother. I never knew my dad though. He left my mom before I was born so he’s never been around.”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry,” Jamie says softly.

“It’s fine. I don’t know him. And from the brief things my mom has said, its probably for the best. And honestly it's okay. Mom’s been more than enough on her own.”

Jamie nods, the smile back on his face. “Okay, anything else you got on that list besides colors and parents?”

“Oh, I have plenty,” you chuckle, “But feel free to ask me anything of your own?”

“Hmm,” Jamie thinks for a second, “What's your favorite flower?”

You look up, amused, “My favorite flower?”

“Yeah. You know that way I can be more specific next time I get you some,”

You once again have to bite back a smile, “Uh, I would say daisies are my favorite flower.” Jamie nods, committing the information to memory, “What about you?”

“Me?” you nod and Jamie doesn’t even hesitate, “I think lilies are nice.”

“Lillies are nice,” you agree, typing it into the doc.

That’s how you spend the next hour or so, asking one another trivia about each other and inputting it into the doc for ease of studying later. You learn about each others childhood pets and the careers you wanted when you were five. You learn each other's favorite foods, stores, bands, as well as the little things you hated. You learned more about his teammates, particularly those closest to him like Sam, Isaac, Colin and Dani. In turn you told him about how Margot was more like a sister to you even if she was technically your employee, as well as your childhood next door neighbor Katie who was still your best friend today.

You only realize you’d been talking for so long when your stomach lets out a growl, and Jamie doesn’t even pretend to courteously not hear it when he lets out a belly laugh. 

“Leave me alone, it actually is almost dinner time, dude,” you defend, even though you find yourself laughing along with him.

“Fair point,” he amends when he catches his breath, “Do you want to order in?”

You don’t even protest the idea of prolonging your time together, thoroughly enjoying getting to know him, “Sure. I can order a pizza.”

You start searching local pizza places into Google, when you remember another item of business you had on your list. 

“Ooh, that packet on the coffee table is for you.” you nod in the direction of said stack of papers.

Jamie sits up, intrigued by the mysterious document, and picks it up. He squints at the weird legalese, “Is this…a contract?” You nod, “What, you don’t trust me or something?”

“No, it's not that, it's just standard,” you shrug, “It's more or less just to appease my publicist and the like.” Jamie still looks unsure, so you sit up and start flipping pages of the document for him, “Looks, its no big deal. I already signed it myself. It just states we can’t tell anyone about this. Besides, the NDA expires in 5 years anyway. So by that time, I’ll have an Oscar and you’ll be a washed up football player, and no one will believe you if you said anything.”

Jamie huffs, “I want to be offended by that, but you called it football so I’ll accept it.”

You smirk, “See, I’m a fast learner.” Then you settle back into your spot on the couch and carry on ordering pizza. 

Jamie looks over the packet again, before siding it was no use tonight, “You mind if I look this over and get it back to you in a few days?”

You nod, “Of course.”

“And your publicist knows? I mean obviously. And assuming Margot knows? Have you told anyone else?” he asks.

“Nope, that’s all,” You answer, “I get it if you want someone to confide in, but I figure the tighter we keep the circle, the better, right?” Jamie nods, “I mean have you told your publicist or professional team?”

Jamie laughs humorlessly, “My publicist is my ex, Keeley.”

You once again look up at him with your mouth agape, “Nooo, how does that happen?”

Jamie shakes his head, “Not intentionally. She took over the club’s PR before I came back to the team and I guess I never thought to find someone else. We became friends, genuine friends, but then everything got tangled up again a few months ago. And yeah. Here we are.”

You look at him for a few seconds before you let out a deep breath, “Well, that all sounds fun. A real incestuous family you got going on over there at AFC Richmond huh?”

Jamie can’t help but laugh along with you, “Yeah, look what you’re marrying into.”

You chuckle, but weirdly you feel your stomach flip at his phrasing. You brush right past it in order to collect his pizza preferences. As you finalize submitting the order, Jamie starts over analyzing your apartment again. This time he’s a bit more nosy and pulls open some of the coffee table drawers. He gasps when he pulls open the second one.

“No way. Please tell me this is yours and it didn’t just come with the place.”

When you look up, he’s holding up a Mario Kart game cover. 

You scoff, “Of course that’s mine.” 

“I haven’t played this in ages,” Jamie says, studying the back cover. 

Another smile plays at your lips. You nod at the TV in front of you, “I can hook up my Switch if you want. It’s been a while since I’ve played with someone other than myself.”

Jamie looks up at you, an excited grin forming on his face. “You’re fucking on.”

And so you spend the next hour competing against Jamie in various Mario Kart races. You play as Toad, naturally. Jamie plays as Princess Peach which makes you laugh. In between rounds, you munch on pizza and breadsticks. You also manage to get to know each other more, and set up ground rules for your charade even as you trash talk one another.

“I feel like the most important is PDA,” you state, somehow managing to focus on not falling off rainbow road while also talking strategy.

“Well, we’ve obviously got to do some of it,” Jamie comments, cursing as he gets hit with a shell, “It would look weird if we didn’t sometimes.”

“Sure, but we’ve gotta have some boundaries. We can’t just be kissing each other willy-nilly.”

Jamie chuckles, “Well, yeah, consent is key.”

Your lips quirk, “I’m completely fine with small things like hugs and hand holding whenever it seems fit.”

“Okay, cool, yeah,” Jamie nods, “And if you’re fine with it, kisses on the cheek are pretty innocent.”

“Yeah,” you nod, swerving to avoid a banana, “But actual kissing…”

Neither of you know how to finish that sentence. However, your race comes to an end. This time you get away with first place, Jamie in second, which you’d be switching between throughout the evening. Without gameplay to distract you, you have to make a decision.

“Maybe we just take it as it comes?” you suggest slowly, “I mean, couples kiss right? So if it feels right in the moment, it's not a big deal for a peck here and there?”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees, “And if there’s ever a time we need to make a show of it, we check in with each other. Either beforehand, or if its in the moment, we give each other a signal.”

“A signal?”

“Yeah, like we blink twice or something.”

You nod, “Blink twice. Okay. And if we’re ever uncomfortable with something, we just have to communicate with each other, right?”

“Right.” Jamie nods. After a beat, he extends his hand, “Looks like we’re doing this.”

You chuckle, but shake his hand none the less, “We’re doing this.”

You exchange smiles. Now that the sun has gone down, Jamie decides its probably time to head out for the night, feeling like you’d accomplished a lot over the course of the evening.

As you walk him to your door, you ask one last question, “There was actually one more thing I wanted to ask. If you’re free Thursday night, do you want to come to an event with me? Isabel Mercer’s new movie is premiering, and since she’s dating my costar the whole cast is going. Figure it might be a good place to make a public debut?”

Jamie smirks, “A movie premiere? You should have started with that.”

You snort, “Yeah, well, I had to make sure this mock-date went well first.”

“I’d say it went very well, wouldn’t you?” Jamie smiles, “I think we’ve got this shit in the bag.”

You laugh, “So I guess that means you’re in?”

Jamie does a half bow, “I would be honored.”  

“Good, because I hate going to these things. I need someone to suffer through it with me.”

Jamie fake-pouts, “Don’t try to make this sound less fun for me.”

You shake your head, and you make your voice really high as you reply, “Don’t worry, it’ll be great!”

Jamie tsks, “You’re gonna have to be better than that when we’re trying to convince the whole world we’re madly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah, get out of here,” You tease, opening your front door and gently shoving him towards it.

Jamie turns to you with a smile, “Good night, girlfriend.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes and give him a smile of your own, “Good night, boyfriend.”

Before you can process what he’s doing, he’s leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Before he completely pulls away, he whispers in your ear, “Google Earth.” He gives you once last smirk before jogging down the steps. 

You shake your head as you lock up. This was certainly going to be an experience these next three months. 

You flop back down on your couch to review your notes from the evening. After reading through for a few minutes, you remember you hadn’t checked your phone the entire time he was there. Aside from a couple emails and a text from your mom, you didn’t have much since it was a Saturday. However, you also have 2 texts from Margot. The first you had missed from earlier this afternoon, which was a link to tweet from an updates account about you. The tweet contained pictures of Jamie arriving at your flat earlier that day. The second had been sent minutes ago, including a tweet from the same account, this time with pictures of Jamie leaving literally ten minutes ago.

The devil works hard, but paparazzi and stans work harder.

You also realize that Jamie had been right. That smug bastard.

You couldn’t be too annoyed though. The comments under the tweets, even the most recent, were filled with people surprised yet supportive of your coupling. A few even conceding that you did look cute in a relationship. You smile to yourself as you scroll through.

Shit. This was going to work. 

a/n: can’t wait to hear what you guys think!!! :))))))

taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog​ @royalestrellas​ @loveslide​ @torpedo-belly​ @skewedcherries​ @littlemisssunshine192​ @hopefulromances​ @breakmyheartlater​ @ohpuckyeah​ @alipap3​ @meg-ro​ @rexorangecouny​ @pythagothug​ @bonesbonesetc​ @xxenia14​ @rockchickrebel​ @thatonedogwithablog​ @percysaidnever​ @msjb2002​ @loveforaugust​ @dicgohargreeves​ @whimsical-roasting​ @gcidrvsh @lightninginab0ttle it wouldn’t let me tag the last couple of you, but i will keep trying <3

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Love your Bale Batman shop girl series! Was wondering how shop girl would feel if Catwoman or some other kick-ass woman came on the scene?

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Sure thing! I did go with a different kickass woman, since Catwoman does show up in the Nolan trilogy

Warnings: Light angst; fluff added for tasty goodness

You don’t really worry about the tabloids anymore. At least, not in the way that you used to. Michelle still sends you the odd article, but it’s usually accompanied by several 😂 emojis (the most notable is the one that suggested that you, Bruce, and Liz are in a throuple, and Grant is your collective beard). Whatever the press says about Bruce becomes white noise. 

But…What the press says about Batman still tends to seep through. 

You can’t help but notice the Gotham Gazette where it’s spread open on Rose’s desk. She’s turned away from it, reading through the approval form that you’ve brought over to her. You can’t help but reach out, turning the newspaper toward yourself and eyeing the grainy image of Batman. Your brow furrows as you draw the newspaper up to get a better look, scanning it more closely. He’s tied up in what look like vines, and nose-to-nose with a stunning, smiling, partially-masked woman. 

“You haven’t seen that yet?” Rose asks, glancing up from the document. “It’s been all over the papers for weeks.” 

“Has it?” You ask dazedly. You’ve managed to miss it. You haven’t been following mentions Batman as closely on social media since you started your new job—you just haven’t had time. 

“Mhm.” Rose folds her arm on her desk and leans in, peering at the picture. “Apparently it’s a real love-hate-cat-and-mouse kinda thing. Hot, right?” She waggles her brows. “I’d love to see what’s under that suit.” 

“Which?”

“Either.” 

You force a smile at the sight of Rose’s salacious grin, but you can’t help glancing back down at the article and skimming it. You commit the name to memory and make a mental note to look her up on your phone when you get back to your desk—

Poison Ivy. 

--  

It’s probably not much of a surprise that Bruce hasn’t mentioned her to you. For the most part—apart from the odd knowing glance, the bruises on his body, and the night he spilled into the penthouse half-dead—he keeps that side of himself to himself. Alfred doesn’t discuss it with you, either, and perhaps that’s why he seems so surprised when you slam your laptop shut as he comes into the kitchen that Saturday morning, hiding your googled articles of Poison Ivy and Batman. 

Alfred’s brows raise, and you offer him a nervous, guilty smile as your face goes hot. You know that you weren’t fast enough—you’d been so honed in on reading that you hadn’t heard him until he was passing right behind you. 

“...Is he awake yet?” You ask lightly, desperate to break the awkward silence. 

“Only just.” 

“‘Kay.” 

“It seems you and Master Wayne are researching similar topics these days,” He comments, swanning around the kitchen counter and setting down the empty breakfast tray. 

“Oh?” 

“Mm. She's proving to be a tougher nut to crack than he thought.” 

You consider for a moment. You could let the conversation go, of course. You’re certain Alfred wouldn’t press it. But: 

“Has he got any leads?” 

“A few,” Alfred nods, bracing his hands on the counter, “Though I would recommend asking him about his ideas and methodology.” 

You bristle before you sigh and slouch dejectedly, resting your chin on your hand. 

“He doesn’t talk about that stuff with me, Alfred.” 

“He doesn’t like for you to worry.” 

“I worry whether he tells me or not. Not knowing just makes me worry more.” 

“Then perhaps that’s something you ought to tell him.” 

You glance up at him warily, and some of your nerves ease as he gives you a warm smile. 

“Now,” He straightens, clapping his hands together and looking around the kitchen. “Despite the hour, Master Wayne is tucking into his breakfast. Shall I get something together for your lunch?” 

You consider for a moment, eyes darting down the hall before you stand, shaking your head. 

“Let’s put a pin in that. I think I’m just gonna…Go steal some of Bruce’s toast.” 

Alfred smiles knowingly, giving you a wink before you turn fully from him and head down the hall. 

-- 

The blackout curtains have been raised just enough to let a little bit of light into the room, but it’s still quite dim. You can see the empty smoothie glass on the bedside table, and the plate of toast that Bruce has put on the wide headboard behind him. Bruce looks preciously rumpled, scrubbing his eyes as he sits up in bed. You can see a few light bruises on his bare chest and arms, but nothing too egregious. His eyes are still narrowed with sleep as he lowers his hands, and his hair looks as ruffled as a baby bird’s. He perks up as you come in, a sleepy smile pulling at his lips as you come closer. 

“Hey, baby,” He murmurs, opening his arms as you climb into bed beside him. 

“Sleep okay?” You ask, cuddling into his side. 

“Fine. I thought you were seeing Michelle for brunch.”

“Got moved to drinks this evening. She had a work thing come up.”

Bruce hums in understanding, tucking you close and pressing a kiss to your head. You bite your lip, grappling with how to bring up the conversation. 

“Late night?” You finally ask lightly. You're relieved when you don’t feel Bruce tense, or reel away. He just rubs his hand gently over your arm.

“Mhm.” 

“Later than usual?” 

“...About on par.” 

“Mm.” You eye the steady rise and fall of his chest for a few moments before you hedge: “Hope you don't mind my asking–” 

“It’s fine—” 

“—You’ve just seemed a little tied up lately.” You give Bruce a sly, teasing smile, and it widens to a grin when you see him fighting back his own smile. 

“Is that why you came in here?” He asks dryly.

“Of course not. I saw Alfred bringing you toast.” You straighten up, reaching over his shoulder, taking up a piece, and biting into it. Bruce chuckles, and you grin as he leans into you, nuzzling against your neck. You hum as you chew, your skin prickling at the feeling of his thickening stubble. 

“How’s it going, anyway?” You ask. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You have any leads?” 

Your stomach drops when you feel him go tense. He sighs softly, leaning away to get a better look at you. You reach back, setting the toast down and dusting crumbs from your fingers before you fold your hands in your lap, waiting patiently. After a few moments, you can’t help but wring your hands subtly as Bruce observes you, and then lowers his gaze to the sheets. 

“I’m not sure I want to discuss that with you,” He finally admits. You swallow thickly, fighting to keep from shifting and fidgeting with nerves. 

“Can I ask why not?” 

Bruce pushes a sigh out through his nose, giving a small shake of his head. 

“I can’t keep it out, huh,” He mutters. 

“Well…You did for a while. Didn’t go so well,” You remind him lightly. Bruce nods, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he mutters, “I know.”

You tentatively reach out, resting your hand atop his. He turns his hand over, taking a gentle hold of yours. 

“I’m not asking you to make me a suit and teach me to fight, Bruce. I just want you to let me in.” 

His lips twitch with a smile as he reaches up, cupping your cheek and sweeping his thumb across your cheekbone. 

“I think…That her name is Pamela Isley. She’s a botanist.” 

“Why is she doing…what she’s doing?” 

“That’s what I still need to find out.” 

You nod, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you.” 

He hums, grasping your jaw and drawing you in for another long, warm kiss. 

“That’s never happening,” He adds as the kiss breaks. You frown, brow furrowing. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Making you a suit, teaching you to fight.” 

You pout, cocking your head to the side. 

“I ought to know how to at least throw a punch, right?” 

“We’ll see about that. It’s a slippery slope,” Bruce chuckles, patting your cheek before nodding over his shoulder. “Eat your toast.” 

Next Part

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

-

Here's the 3rd part. Hoping to also get this one up quick. This story is really coming together in my head. Also, I know I promised smut, and so far have not delivered. That is coming, pinkly promise. We've got to get the foundation man!

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, overall abuse, mild violence (ie. bar fights), smut, swearing, and altogether just a lot of fuckery.

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Part 3 - The Grey

Sleep was a wild idea, given everything I had learned last night. I couldn't seem to quit scrolling through Google, YouTube, listening. I felt as though I was educating myself. Learning, in some way, what I was getting into. I wanted to see what I could learn about him, but he was an overall private human, even for a musician.

I did learn he is a Scorpio, born on Halloween. Originally from Virginia. The names of his bandmates. He had quite a few wonderful songs that I had added to my iTunes quickly after hearing them. So far, my favorite was Limits, which was saying a lot, given Just Pretend was still so incredible.

Throughout all of my 'research', the most important fact I learned was that Noah was very good at hiding his alcoholism. I expected to see articles, tweets, or even a TikTok about some scandal. An arrest? A fight? A drunken performance? I found nothing.

I suspect Noah is what I consider a silent drunk. Someone who doesn't drink for fun, but for release. For something to escape to. This had to be true, because I found zero evidence of his addiction on social media or in the depths of Google. I even shamelessly searched 'Noah Sebastian alcoholic' and came up with some very strange fanfiction. Interesting thought...

This almost worried me more. This meant I was going into this blind. The rockstar lifestyle was something not only musicians lived. So how did he manage to do it so quietly? Was his publicist just that good? Did he even have one?

Despite my determination, sleep finally took hold about 4AM, me waking up at noon with the videos of their music still playing on YouTube. I slammed my laptop closed and wiped the drool from my lips.

I needed caffeine.

I slipped into my house slippers, and sauntered to the kitchen, Angel following behind. I heard his quiet whine, and quickly paced to the back door to let him out before he had an accident.

Once I had slurped down half of my energy drink and let Angel back in, I snatched my phone from my bedside table. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I checked through my notifications.

Given it was my day off, I wasn't surprised to see a text from Sam asking if I wanted to come in and help him with his case files. I didn't even open it. That should answer that question.

I opened my messages to reach out to Laura. Her and I needed to speak immediately.

Before I could open her thread, I noticed a message from Noah, which made my throat dry.

Noah: Hollywood Palladium. Doors open at 6PM, but you should get there about 5 to get into your suite. I'll text you once I get offstage and we can figure out how you'll smuggle me out. We go on before Motionless in White.

Noah: Thank you again, Leena. I know this is a pain for you.

This guy isn't actually real. He is sweet as honey. Smooth as butter. And wakes up at 6:30AM, apparently? Who the fuck is this guy?

Me: I'll be there. I haven't told Laura yet. Pray for me.

His response came quickly.

Noah: Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name...

I only responded with laughing emojis and flipped to Laura's thread.

Me: Can you talk?

This was our code. She was working and if she was busy, she would respond. If she wasn't, she'd call.

My phone vibrated in my hand immediately.

"Hey." My voice was a fucking mess. I realized I hadn't used it at all yet.

"What the fuck is up, Kyle? You getting sick?" I cleared my throat and sighed.

"No. Just woke up."

"Late night? You doing okay?" I could hear the concern. 3 years sober, didn't mean it wasn't still something to keep an eye on.

"Yeah babe, I'm good. I need to fucking talk to you, though."

"Sure, what's going on?"

I sighed, not even knowing how to begin. I couldn't exactly tell her the lead singer of one of her favorite bands was a newly recovering alcoholic. Not without permission.

"I uh..." My brain drew a blank. "have not thought this through."

The other end was silent.

"You sure you're okay?"

I sighed hard. "I met Noah Sebastian."

Now there was dead silence on the phone.

"I'm so fucking sorry, I've lost my mind. Can you repeat that?" Her voice was deadly.

"You heard me."

"Noah Sebastian? From Bad Omens?!" I could hear her voice raising some octaves.

"Yeah a few days ago."

"Fucking where?!" I had to hold the phone at a distance from my ear.

"At...my work." My brain worked overtime to work out this lie.

"I call bullshit." She is too good at seeing through me.

"Laura, would you fucking listen?"

"Noah Sebastian did not walk into a fucking mortgage office and just happen to meet my best friend, the loan officer. Bullshit."

"Laura, listen!"

"Fuck! Fine! What?!" I could feel her irritation.

"I have tickets to their show tonight. In their VIP booth."

"Did you help him buy a house or some shit?!" That actually wasn't bad.

"Possibly. Still up in the air."

"You're such a fucking liar."

"Do you want to go or not? We'll be seeing him after."

I could feel her jaw drop to the floor. "We're going to meet the band?"

"No, not the band. I don't think. Just Noah."

"Just Noah? Christ Mileena, did you fuck him or something?!"

"Absolutely not! Laura what the hell?!"

"What?? You don't even listen to Bad Omens." I scoffed at that.

"I fucking do now."

-

After a solid hour of interrogatories from Laura, planning on getting to the event (I would drive, obviously) and what we would wear, we finally hung up.

I had about three and a half hours before I had to leave to pick her up. I had enough time for a walk with Angel, lunch, and to get ready.

When Angel and I set out on the sidewalk, and I had set up my AirPods (3 guesses who I was listening to), my phone chimed with a text. I groaned. Didn't we get through enough details?

When I saw the text though, I was surprised to see Noah's name.

Noah: Hey, weird request, but could I call you for like ten minutes?

I was puzzled, but typed a quick affirmative response.

My phone rang a few moments later.

"Hello?"

"Hey, I'm sorry." His immediate apology confused me.

"Sorry for what?" I could hear him chuckle, his voice slightly hushed.

"Calling. I know it's weird." I half-smiled. There was a level of innocence to Noah that made me feel better about this entire situation.

"Noah, I'm your sponsor. You're allowed to call me any time, day or night."

"But what if I call you at 3AM cause I'm craving sugar?"

I shook my head, weaving down the sidewalk with Angel heeling nicely at my left.

"Then we go get ice cream?"

I could hear the smile in his voice. "No way. You don't mean that."

I proudly responded. "Wouldn't be the first time."

He only snorted in response. I did wonder why he needed to call.

"Are you okay?"

"Mm, yeah. We're at the venue. Did sound check a while ago. The guys cracked open some beers. I told them I was going to take a quick walk to get some air. I feel like they might know something." His concern was thick in his words.

"Ah, okay. Well, super proud of you for walking away. That's amazing on it's own."

"Yeah?" He sounded unsure.

"Oh, one hundred percent."

"Thanks Leena." He sighed. His voice then came out a little smoother. "Did you talk to Laura?"

"I did."

"And how did that go?"

I smirked. "Well, she doesn't believe that I met you at work, so now she's got horrific ideas of how I met you, but she's in."

This made him laugh. "Horrific like how?!"

"I won't repeat it. But either way, she doesn't know how we actually know each other. I'm struggling to figure out how I'm going to explain us giving you a ride home?"

He was quiet, my guess was thinking. "How well do you know her?"

"Better than anyone, why?"

"You trust her?"

"With my life."

"Tell her. It's easier that way. Just maybe ask we don't all chat about it?" This took me back. As private as he is, and he doesn't even know me that well? Why trust me, or someone I trust, with this secret? His reputation is somewhat on the line.

"You sure?"

"Should I not be?"

I sighed. "I wouldn't risk your good name Noah. I promise."

"Thanks Leena." I heard muffled voices in the background. "Hey, I've got to go. See you later?"

I agreed, and we disconnected the call.

-

The ride to the venue was mostly quiet, aside from the soft music on the radio playing.

"So...anything else I should know before we walk in there? Ronnie Radke isn't going to be hanging with us too, is he?"

I chuckled at this.

"Listen babe, I've got to tell you something."

She lifted her eyebrow in a knowing look. "Knew you were lying."

I shrugged. "Look, I'm going to tell you this, but this is covert level secrecy. No one can know. Or Noah is fucked. So promise me? Not even your husband gets to know?"

Her look turned more serious.

"Of course babe. Anything."

"I'm Noah's sponsor." Her jaw dropped open, almost unnaturally so.

"He's in AA too?" I nodded.

"He just started. And he needed a sponsor. I offered. He needed help getting through this show and the after party. So he's going to pretend to be sick after, meet us backstage, and we're going to smuggle him out and drive him home."

I could see the wheels in her head turning. She believed me now. She knew I never lied about AA.

"Oh my God, babe." She shook her head. "I'm so sorry. I pried too hard. Jesus, I feel like an asshole."

I waved her off. "Don't, my love. He gave me permission to tell you." She nodded at that, sitting back in her seat.

After a beat, she giggled to herself. "You sure are the luckiest sponsor ever." That made me laugh. I wasn't so sure yet.

-

The show was electric. The man on stage, singing, was a different person entirely. If it weren't for the fact that he made direct eye contact with me several times throughout the night, I would've never believed him to be the same shy, unsure, uncomfortable man he was in group. On stage, he was confident, he was in control, he was the leader, and the crowd, his flock. It was insane to watch, and I would be lying if I hadn't said I felt absolutely mystified at points. I teared up when they played Just Pretend, vehemently singing along. This was not lost on him, and I caught the smirk he got when he saw my glassy-eyed singing. No different than any other fan. That's okay, that's who I was for now.

We were to not be seen or noticed. We were shadows waiting to seamlessly remove him.

Once the set ended, and everyone waited for Motionless in White to come out, moving in and out of their seats toward the bars and bathrooms, Laura and I followed the security guard who had been told to allow us backstage.

I checked my phone a few times, but still had not heard from him. As we made our way to the meet and greet area, we saw the giant line of fans waiting for their band to show up. We slyly waited against a wall behind the line. We blended in.

"Have you heard from him?" I checked my phone again with no results.

"No, but I would bet he has to do meet and greet first. I don't strike him as the type to disappoint fans."

She nodded in agreement, so we waited.

After about twenty minutes, we heard screaming, and looked over to see them come out, waving at everyone waiting in line. I saw his eyes searching. Was he looking for us?

Pulling out my phone, I shot a quick message.

Me: By the trash cans.

He was talking to a girl with his face on her shirt when he slipped his phone from his pocket and his eyes immediately scanned and found mine. The smallest hint of a smile lifted his lips. I saw him turn his back for a moment, and turning back to sign autographs

Noah: Thought I lost you. M&G will be over in 45min. Meet me in the parking lot?

I sent a thumbs up, instructed Laura of our plans, and we began our trek to the car. Once in the car, I sent a quick location pin to him so he could find us. I got a response a few minutes later.

Noah: Just look for the ancient Tahoe. Roger that.

I rolled my eyes, and despite Laura watching her concert videos, she noticed.

"What?" I showed her my phone, and she smiled.

"Well, he's funny, huh?" I nodded.

"An absolute dork." She bit her lip, turning in my seat.

"Leena?" I looked up at her from my phone screen, looking at my own videos.

"Hmm?"

"Do you like him?" I paid little attention to the question.

"Oh sure, he's a nice guy." She put her hand on my shoulder, making me give her my full attention.

"No, Mileena," she pushed my phone down. "do you like him?"

This made me scoff. "Laura, I barely know him!"

"What's to know? He's a singer in a near famous band. He's got the voice of an angel. He's adorable." This made me roll my eyes again.

"I'm his sponsor." She threw her hands up.

"Is it illegal?" I shook my head.

"No, but it's awful and would make me a terrible human. And I work very hard to be a good human."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "I don't believe that, but okay. I respect it." I smiled at her.

"Thank you Laura."

"But I still think you like him."

I was silent in response, not amused by her pushing.

“He has a girlfriend anyway, Laura.”

I watched her eyes nearly bug out of her head. “He does?!”

“Yeah, he told me yesterday.” I could see the disbelief on her face.

“I’ve never heard that. What’s her name?” I sighed, thinking back to our conversation the day before.

“He…didn’t say? Just mentioned he had one, and she didn’t know about AA yet.”

Her lips pursed. “Not buying it.”

This made my eyes widen.

“What?”

“He has a girlfriend but doesn’t even tell you her name? And doesn’t tell her he’s made a life changing decision to get well? I’m not buying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Christ, Laura, you’ve got trust issues.”

She pointed at me. “Facts. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t believe it.” She sat back in her seat.

“I’ll just ask him when he gets here, no worries.”

This caused a flood of panic through me. “Please don’t! He’s not the type to talk about personal stuff. He’s actually pretty withdrawn.”

Her blank expression was telling. “Noah? Noah Sebastian? The guy who just went absolutely insane on that stage? Is withdrawn? Mhm, sure.”

I sat back in my chair and groaned.

“Please? That’s his personal business.”

She nodded. “Fine, but you should ask him.”

I didn’t respond, attention now on the text I had from him saying he was headed our way. I started the car, ready for a quick getaway.

After about ten minutes, I saw his tall frame in the doorway of the elevator, jogging over to the car. I snuck a glance at Laura, who looked as though she may absolutely burst.

“Here comes the rockstar.” She let out in a sing-song voice.

The back left door opened, and he slid inside the seat quickly, buckling his seatbelt and running his fingers through his long, and now greasy, hair.

“Hey!” My voice was about three pitches higher for truly no reason at all. This was not lost on my best friend, whose eyes I saw flash over to be before turning around and looking at Noah, eyes absolutely bulging.

“Jesus, it’s like trying to escape a wild pack of hyenas!” He sat back and sighed heavily as my truck backed out of the space and began moving down the aisle. “I mean the guys, not the fans.”

I looked up in my rearview. “Did you do like we talked about?”

“Yes. Made sure to gag as loudly as possible and everything.” I could see the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes.

He turned his attention to Laura, holding out his hand. “I’m so rude, I’m sorry.” She took his hand, looking absolutely stunned. “I’m Noah.”

All I heard from her was a weak ‘Laura’ in response.

Once we hit the darkened streets, putting the venue behind us, the tension in the truck relaxed.

I looked up in my mirror again, catching Noah’s attention.

“Do you mind if I drop Laura home first? She’s got to get up early for work tomorrow and her house isn’t very far.”

He smiled. “Of course. I’m all the way in Calabasas, so no worries at all.”

I just nodded. The ride was smooth for a moment, until I heard the familiar ring of an iPhone. It was Noah’s.

“Hello?” I couldn’t hear the voice from the other end. “Hey babe.”

Laura’s face whipped over to me, I’m sure seeing my expression darken ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m not sure what happened, but I started feeling off before the set and by the end, I was throwing up.” He waited for the response. “No, uh…” he hesitated. “I actually haven’t drank at all today.”

Something in my chest swelled. I was such a proud sponsor. He was making an effort, and all I could do was appreciate it.

He nervously laughed. “Yeah, right? Shocking, I know.”

I could hear his tone. It broke my heart for him. I knew that conversation, I had many myself. When people don’t believe you haven’t been drinking, or are shocked to hear it. They’ll even go so far as to get angry at you for quitting. It’s a long, torturous road he’s set down, but hopefully with the right support, he will stay on track.

“Well I just caught an Uber, and I’m going to go home and pass out. Try to get over it.”

I made a conscious effort not to look at him, doing my best to respect his privacy. I could see Laura doing the same, scrolling through her phone.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should wait until Monday? Make sure I’m not contagious, and all that?” His voice almost sounded brightened, but I was likely imagining things.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But do you want to catch this crap?” He made a sound of approval. “Thought so. I’m almost home so I’ll talk to you later babe.” He wasn’t, but okay. “Mhm, I love you too.” Slight poke to the abdomen. Nothing to worry about. “Bye.”

My hands relaxed slightly on the wheel. No one spoke for a little while. I could see his eyes just watching the streetlights fly past the window. He almost looked sad, but I couldn’t piece together why exactly. I could guess, however, that this is harder than he initially anticipated. It always is.

Laura shared my concern, so she spoke up.

“The show tonight was awesome, Noah! Better than the one back in November!”

This sure perked him, making him sit up in his seat. “Yeah? Thank you for saying that.”

“Oh fuck yeah, dude! Watching you guys play is spiritual, honestly.” This made him crack a wide grin.

I felt a poke on my shoulder, causing me to look up.

“What’d you think Leena? How was your first Bad Omens show?” I could see him searching for my answer, but he’s not the only one who could be a smartass.

I waved my hand in a topsy-turvy fashion. “It was alright.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you cried during Just Pretend.” Laura was triumphantly smiling.

She’s so dead.

My cheeks were getting warmer, and I instinctively cracked my window. When did it get so hot in here?

Noah let out a giggle, an actual fucking giggle. “I thought I saw that.”

“Dude, how can you see anything up there? Fire? Smoke? Lights?”

He shook his head dismissively and flopped back in his seat. “Please. I can see anything if I’m looking for it.”

His words rang out followed by silence. Laura’s face was deadpanned.

What the fuck does that mean? In a literal sense, I get what he meant but wow, what an innuendo to make. Unintentionally, I’m sure.

The context wasn’t lost on Noah, who only cleared his throat, not speaking another word.

Luckily, we were already cruising down Laura’s street, stopping in front of her driveway.

“Welp, this is my stop.” She turned to look in the backseat. “Thank you so much for the concert. It really was awesome.”

This earned her a grateful head nod from him. “Anytime.”

She wouldn’t be forgetting that.

“I love you babes, call me tomorrow?” She wrapped an arm around me while I agreed to her request. She hopped out of the car and within seconds, she was gone.

“You want to stay back there, or hop up front?”

Without answering, a long leg reached over my console, plopping Noah in the passenger’s seat. I stared at him incredulously while he beamed at me.

I shook my head and put the truck back in drive, waiting for him to direct me to his house.

[sleepyfins]

Google Emoji Kitchen Sea Life 2/2

1/2 Here!

Great Whites are a type of Mackerel Shark. They are the largest predatory fish, and the only survivor from their genus.

They are endangered due to shark finning and global warming, being critically endangered in European water and vunerable globally.

They're also not in museums because they migrate, rather than being a danger as some people believe.

[finleyforevermore]

YOU THERE!! you know those bubble letter png sticker things you make. please, teach me your ways. :3 /nf

STEP ONE: Install Gboard (Google Keyboard)

STEP TWO: Open the app!

STEP THREE: After the app takes you to Settings, make Gboard your default keyboard!

STEP FOUR: Wait.

It may not be the same for you but for some reason, for me, I had to wait a LONNNGGG while for Gboard to actually start cooperating and generate word stickers. It made emoji combinations from the jump but the words took a while. But after waiting forEVER, look!

And for clarification purposes, here is an example of an emoji combination! It's pretty much just emoji kitchen-

Hopefully this helps! (and you won't have to wait to make text stickers like me)

[wonderful-emoji]

This is a bit of a weird one, do you have the tree emoji combined with octopus emoji? The pacific tree octopus was a hoax back when I was a kid and I would love an emoji for that XD

[canidgirlfangs]

tumblr nonhumans have y'all seen the lil emoji kitchen guys

this is me actually

(i got it from emojikitchen.dev but if you google it it also shows up integrated in the tab

[rammgender]

[ID: Two flags with nine horizontal stripes, which alternate between thick and thin. In order, they are pale purple, muted dark indigo, muted indigo, muted light indigo, yellow, muted light indigo, muted indigo, muted dark indigo, and pale purple. The second flag has an emoji in the middle which is posted and described below. /End ID.]

oceanstellemojic

oceanstellemojic (ocean-stell-e-mohj-ick) - a gender connected to the google kitchen combination sticker of the star ⭐ and wave 🌊 emojis, as seen below

[ID: An emoji of an ocean wave. The main part of the wave is a gradient from light muted indigo to dark muted indigo and is covered in a pattern of yellow star emojis in varying sizes. The crest of the wave is pale purple with a thick muted indigo outline. /End ID.]