#so conclusion he ain’t up for taking fan selfies BUT he’s up for getting some free portraits 🤣🤣🫶🏽

[nicoscheer]

chris_bloodfilms Met my hero on a train.

This story is long so scroll if you cba reading.

It's 2005, a band explodes on MySpace. They're dressed like you and their lyrics are a mirror to your life.

Bleeding heck, who the fuck are the Arctic Monkeys?

After 19 years on repeat it's now 2024. Myself and @conor_bloodfilms are travelling back from Paris.

We arrive at Gare Du Nord and Duffy stops in his tracks. He whispers to me "I think that's Alex Turner."

"F**k off!" | immediately reply. I gaze over at a guy wearing a leather jacket with long brown hair, his face adorned with aviators. We should probably stop staring as it's getting weird, sexually and aggressively weird.

Turns out it is bloody Alex Turner, the man who's provided the soundtrack to my life! He strolls past and disappears into the Parisian platform crowd. A missed opportunity.

We board our train back to London. We look to our left and there's Alex. Sitting in his seat accompanied by a notepad. He's probably writing the next Arctic Monkeys hit "Two gawping pricks on a train". We really need to stop staring.

I tell Duffers I'm going in, he stops me. Reminds me that I'm a fully functioning adult and not to create a scene. Christ, he's right! I feel like I'm 15 years old again, someone get me a Strongbow and whack Dancing Shoes on, kin hell lad!

Eventually myself and Con engage, it's a surreal experience. Alex is polite and returns conversation in a soft friendly manner. The whole situation is just bloody lovely.

I awkwardly ask if I can take his portrait, fully aware that it could result in an awkward exchange and destroy this wonderful moment. He smiles and obliges, he's effortlessly cool, asks for direction and I take a few snaps.

We disembark the train, I felt quite emotional and that's embarrassing to admit. Maybe it was the jet lag, the caffeine and croissant overload? Or maybe it was just the rekindling of my youth.

This all might sound trivial, however, for me these portraits are deeply personal serving a reminder that life is a series of fortunate events and when fully appreciated can conjure up some pretty awesome memories.

[themadearl]

Idea: Yuu with the unhelpful ability of attracting the crazies

Note: Incredibly self-indulgent & shady & creepy & dumb, emphasis on creepy

______________________________________________

Octavinelle Edition [Part 3]

🐙 Azul  🐙

As another member of plan foiled by Yuu club, of course he is taking tabs on Yuu

Attempts to get dirt on Yuu so he can get back on her

Instead, only gets pictures of Yuu and useless info

How?

Don’t ask

Just know that money and influence is a wonderful wonderful thing

Also, has to pay extra for medical fees

And probably therapy fees from the trauma of getting maimed by some unnamed students

with like playing card motifs on their faces

one of’em has claws

Hires other people to do it more discreetly

Gets more sneak shots of Yuu

He’s kinda cute

Fuck

But still cute tho

And smart

Also knows how to cook and do chores

Perfect as a wife

FUCK

Jumps between devious mastermind and teenage admirer

Non-stop pictures coming in due to how well the pay is

And the benefits too

Probably does a bit of business with Cater as well 

Gets his hands on a lock of Yuu’s hair

Again, don’t ask how

Azul doesn’t want to think too much about the cost for it

Too embarrassed and nervous to approach Yuu in real life

Only gets glances of her through hallways

Once saw her super close while she napped

Real freaking jealous of everyone that can get close to her

“What does she even see in those idiots?!”

Wants to get rid of all the vermin around her

Slowly notices some details about Yuu

Like how her build is thinner than others

Higher pitched voice compared to boys

No prominent adam’s apple

Hmmm

Does some research on female humans

“Azul, are you entering heat?”, says Jade with a smile

ASDGHJKLNO

Finds a conclusive point that would prove Yuu’s Gender

cough* Menstruation*cough

Azul is embarrassed but anxious to find the answer to his question

Does the incredibly creepy task

of digging through Yuu’s trash

gross, i know

Can’t risk the chance of others doing it since they might know

Let’s just say, he did find the answer to his question

Is he disgusted with himself?

Very much so

Tries to distract himself with venturing new business opportunities

Constantly gazes back to his newly made Yuu Wall with just a bunch of pictures 

His new albums of Yuu on the bookshelf hidden by some magic

Little trinkets of Yuu on the table

Huh

Sees a market in Yuu goods

Well then

🐬 Jade & Floyd 🦈

For Jade, it’s pretty interesting to see something so small can create so much chaos

For Floyd, the fact that shrimpy is the source of this so much fun is pretty intriguing

cause shrimpy’s a shrimpy after all

And getting the interests of the Leech brothers ain’t a good thing

cause they are going to probe about Yuu

Unlike the stalker trio, the twins don’t hide themselves

they just follow right behind Yuu

and Yuu is very afraid

Running is a horrible option as

For every three steps, Yuu runs

They can catch up in one step

The sight of two 190 cm+ guys running after you isn’t fun at all

Anyway

Yuu gets cornered not much later and is desperately trying to find a way out

like there is even any lol

“Shrimpy~ Long time no see~”

Yuu looks up to see Floyd who has his arms next to the wall behind her

Gulp

“I heard something interesting lately~”

“Um, w-what is it?”

“Not telling you~”

Jade comes in and take a group selfie with Yuu & Floyd

Why?

To make Azul jealous ~ ♪

This was one of the first of many encounters

Yuu sees them the next day at Alchemy class as Jade volunteers to be your partner

Yuu : But I already have one???

Jade : I’m your partner right? Right? 

Yuu : (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Things go on without a hitch

The potion they made was even better than the ones Yuu usually makes

huh

Lunchtime comes and this time, it’s the Leech twins that steals the seat next to Yuu

“Shrimpy eats so little, want to try my lunch~”

Before Yuu can even decide, Floyd shoves a handful of his ultra deluxe sandwich into her mouth

Poor Yuu almost chokes on the food

After that came another fork of mushroom pasta from Jade

And then another spoon of unknown soup

All the other students looks on with a mix of horror and pity

Yuu just wants the day to end

Unfortunately for her, the constant teasing has only begun~ ♪

🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊 🌊

There’s now a hidden underground market for Yuu items

Be it pictures, fan merchandise or personal items

Managed by the one and only, Octavinelle trio

Also, there’s a fan club from the non-stop exposure of Yuu stuff to the other ordinary students

Who’s the president?

it’s Ace with Deuce as vice president

Jack’s the treasurer

The Yuu movement pioneered by Adeuce with expansions along the line by Octavinelle with financial support from Leona

Riddle dreads on how he should have shut this down months again

also can’t believe how the two person stalking duo became 

*waving at the markets & club* this

seriously, the fuck

Everyone tries their best to hide all traces of this from Yuu

It’s like the first rule of yuu club,

You don’t talk about Yuu club.

tl;dr, Yuu has a cult following

congrats

[footbaliimagines]

gold digger (an aaron ramsey imagine)

Summary: they ain’t saying she a gold digger…oh wait- they definitely are

It was like a Pandora’s box.

Everyone told you that reading his Instagram comments section was a seriously bad idea. His teammates’ girlfriends were quick to shoot you wary looks and raised eyebrows and rattle off horror stories, and even he had once told you it probably wouldn’t be the best idea.

(“Don’t want you getting those kind of ideas in your head, babe. It’ll just make you feel bad about yourself.” Aaron had informed you with a self-assured nod, and you’d hummed a short ‘sure’ in response.)

Plus, Calum’s girlfriend had once warned you, with wide eyes and a shudder, of that one time a fan followed her private Instagram under a fake name to share her photos and commented that she was a ‘filthy slag’ on all her posts. “Yep. All 128.”

That didn’t stop you from scrolling through his timeline to find the photo of the two of you he had posted the past weekend. It was a mirror selfie and you were trying (and subsequently failing), in fits of laughter, to give him a piggy back. You had thought it was a cute photo. A photo that showed you weren’t some unattainable-hot-leggy-model-stereotypical-WAG on a red carpet but a normal 25-year-old woman who wore Disney pyjamas like the rest of the world and didn’t care too much about how she appeared on the internet.

But the comments section below seems to disagree.

‘Can’t help but think she’s just a bit of a gold digger. Am I the only one?’

‘All she seems to do is take photos with him and leech off his money. My left arse cheek would do a better job as girlfriend.’

‘Does she even have a job?’

And you wish you could respond to the last one with a firm, obstinate, in-your-face-fuck-you-actually ‘no’ but then you remember that you spend 5 days a week sitting at a cramped desk opposite a middle-aged man who looks at you far too often for your liking and picks his nose at his desk, and you have to face the wrath of the London underground at rush hour twice a day, and refrain from commenting back.

You hear the door open and promptly shut, and see Aaron sling his bag to the floor and come over to where you’re sitting on the sofa. He’s home from training and wearing grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips, and an Arsenal sweater that’s potentially crossing the line into too tight territory. You smile at the sight of him walking over and feel yourself breathe out in bliss when you remember that his man, this gorgeous man who knows you like the back of his hand and you’re pretty sure would jump off a bridge if you asked, is all yours.

(And the thought kind of makes you want to kick yourself, but you realise that the sight of him at this precise moment in time would probably turn any sane, moral woman into a gold digger.)

“Hi, my love.” He approaches you, smiling lopsidedly and leaning down to kiss your cheek. You lock your phone and throw it across the sofa swiftly and then lean up to kiss him back. “What are you doing, babe?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “That wasn’t suspicious at all.”

“Nothing, nothing,” You squeak. “How was your day?”

“Were you watching porn?” He asks incredulously.

“How is that the first conclusion you jump to, you silly twat?”

“It’s what I’d be doing.”

“Because you’re still a 12-year-old boy at heart.”

“Come on, you’re the one acting suspicious.” He pouts and threads his fingers with yours. “What are you doooooing?”

“Just reading. Stuff.”

“Reading what?” He presses. “Aaron Ramsey fanfiction?”

“Jesus Christ, are you always this annoying?”

“You’re the one who’s been with me for the past three years.” He reasons, which elicits a snort from you. Then he gasps, and looks at you in mock horror, “You must have bad taste. Unless- God forbid- you’re only with me for my money?”

It strikes a nerve and it’s as if he can read your mind, and instead of laughing in response, or firing back with another remark, you groan and cover your face with your hands. “Apparently, yes.” You mumble against your hands, and it comes out muffled and quiet.

“What?”

“Apparently, I’m only with you for your money.”

“According to who?”

“Um, 90% of your fans?”

“You know I don’t care about what other people say.” He insists. “If I listened to all the comments on my Instagram I would have retired about 3 years ago, because I apparently have the pace of a slow horse and can’t pass to save my life.”

“I know that, but- but…” You trail off, unable to properly quantify how you feel.

You weren’t even sure if you knew you felt, to be frank. On one hand, you didn’t care about what people on the internet were saying (as he had reasoned, “they didn’t know the real you”) but at the same time the thought of so many people thinking badly of you kind of made you want to cuddle up in bed with Gossip Girl and never leave your room again.

(You had always prided yourself on having a thick skin. But there was something about so many people believing such abhorrent lies and crafting this false image of you that was wearing away at your self-esteem and questioning how strong you thought you were in the first place.)

“Talk to me.” He says softly.

“I know they’re all just chatting shit, but…”

He presses a delicate kiss to your cheek and says softly, interrupting you, “But it doesn’t matter at all. I know you’re not really with me for my money, because if that’s all you were truly interested in you’d try it on with Mesut or Alexis, not me.”

It forces a smile and you suppress a laugh. Aaron continues, “Please don’t listen to what these people are saying. They don’t understand our relationship, and I know it sucks to read what they say but at the end of the day it doesn’t really matter.” He murmurs against your cheek, pressing his lips against your skin to punctuate each sentence. “Let them think what they want. Let them think that you’re a ruthless gold digger and that I’m stupid for believing you. Let them think that we’re superficial and boring and arrogant. The important things are that they’re not true and I don’t care.”

“I know, I know.” You sigh. “It’s just annoying that people are so quick to jump to conclusions and assume shit that isn’t true.”

“It’s not worth your time.” He smiles sympathetically and you exhale. “I know what you need.”

“If you say sex, I’m going to slap you, Aaron.”

“I was going to say Chinese takeaway.”

“That would be nice, too.”

“And a dance party in the kitchen.” He smiles at you smugly and he’s so confident and charming and able to make you smile regardless of how shitty you feel.

(And he’s in overwhelming agreement with you that kitchen dance parties are the perfect cure for everything.)

He pulls you to your feet and leads you by hand to your kitchen, his fingers skating over your knuckles and his face fixed with a smile. Aaron walks to plug his phone into the speakers, tapping the screen and walking up behind you again to wrap his arms around your waist. You feel him kiss your shoulder and his stubble graze your cheek and feel yourself relax instantly, the tension leaving your neck, as the speakers begin to blare ‘Gold Digger’ by Kanye West. 

“God I want to DIE.” You groan, and he laughs, a deep throaty chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “You’re not funny.”

“Can’t help it you’re a massive gold digger.” He murmurs, peppering your neck with light, delicate kisses. “And that I’m possibly the funniest man to ever come out of Wales.”

“Shut up.” You moan.

“Evidently you must be with me for the money, then. Have I hit a nerve?” You feel his teeth nip at your skin and your cheeks flush as your head lolls back in pleasure.

“Clearly just with you for the sex.” You smirk. “And-“

“And?” He effortlessly spins you around and grips one hand at your waist and the other on your bum.

He leans in and ghosts his lips over yours. He’s so close that you can see every pore and every eyelash and feel his breath over your lips, so close that you can feel his chest heaving against yours. “And even that’s subpar at best.” You whisper teasingly.

His eyes had closed just before your lips had met, expecting a sultry comment and an excuse to take you in his arms, but your sarcastic quip catches him off-guard. “What?”

“You heard me.” You sing-song.

“I hate you.” His arms wrap around your middle. “But you do have an ass like Serena.”

“Oh Kanye.” You sigh with a smile that he’s eager to return.

“My Kim.”

“I’m definitely more of a Kourtney.”

“Kim’s the one that got famous from sucking a celebrity’s dick though, so we’ll have to agree to disagree.”

“You are awful.”

“And you’re a gold digger. I guess we’re all unearthing new things today.”

“You learn something new every day.” 

And the way he’s looking at you, as if you hung the moon, eases all your stress and makes it all kind of worth it. They could call you a gold digger all they wanted because in the end, they’d at least got one thing right.

You’d definitely hit the jackpot.

 ---

A.N.: long time no post ........ finally wrote something for aaron ramsey!!!! not my favourite thing I’ve ever written but I hope you all liked it nevertheless!!!! also I played with the narrative/perspective that I write with and went with a ‘you’ rather than a ‘she’ (if that makes sense) so let me know what you think/if its worse than before/if I should play around with it and carry on using it etc.!!

songs I listened to when writing this and are kind of relevant:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gb0zSG0kwZ8

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vwNcNOTVzY (obviously)

send in requests pls and come and say hi!!!! xxxxx <3