#//jamie shut UP challenge

[cold-black-and-infinite]

Does this count as pitting the girls against each other

[unhingedlesbear]

If people could like... NOT ship Jamie/Erin with fucking men that would be amazing!

[zickmonkey]

One of my flaws is that I want women to be strong all the time constantly in like the most basic sense of the word

[foodiegoogie]

request for james potter x sunshine gf? like yapper x yapper <3

note: thank u for requesting my sanny angel <3 i was so excited to write this when i got ur req hehe :P thanks 4 being so patient as well !! hope u like this :P

paint me a picture

james potter x fem!reader ✮ 2.2k cw/tags: established relationship, that ‘couple paints each other’ trend on tiktok, MOO DENG CAMEO, tooth-rutting fluff mayhaps? and a lil crack :>

If you were ever put in a situation where you’re stuck in a room full of complete strangers, chances are that you’d strike up a conversation with one, two, or a handful of people no matter how off-putting they might seem as a stranger. You had a knack for talking people’s ears off, your mouth running faster than your brain ever did—spewing word after word before you could even finish your train of thought. 

Frankly speaking, you were well-aware that your talkativeness came across as annoying to most people. It was a hard pill for you to swallow, because you really, really liked to talk to people. You thrived in sharing your interests and whatever it was that came to your mind with other people. But the pressure was immense, and society—cruel, so you had to make do and shut your mouth if you could handle it. 

When you met James, however, it was like one of those cliché moments in movies—the ones about destiny and fate and soulmates. Because who knew that you’d find your match in being a chatterbox in someone as charming, and lovely as him? 

James Potter, in all his bumbling, comical, and boyish glory, did not stray away from you from the very first sign that gave away your talkative nature. 

And it appeared that he wasn’t planning on ever doing so in the near future. 

“Oh, but have you seen the one of her biting that zookeeper’s leg? She’s so adorable– I can’t!” You gushed as you filled in the gaps of James’ uncolored ears—the James in your portrait, not your actual James—with brush strokes of warm, chocolate brown paint.

The real-life James who sat across from you chuckled softly at your enthusiasm. “I know, right? She’s a little troublemaker, that one. I’d steal her away if I could.”

“Me too, me too,” Your vehement agreement amuses your boyfriend. “Gosh, what I wouldn’t give to have a hippo as a pet!”

James’ nose wrinkles, as if in distaste, at your statement. “Wouldn’t that be hard though? They’re always covered in mucus, and they’re always underwater. Hippos are a little high-maintenance if you really think about it.” 

“Respectfully, James, I never asked for your opinion.” 

James’ mouth hangs open in shock, his hand frozen as it holds a paintbrush in front of his own canvas of his portrait of you. 

“I can’t believe you’d say that to me,” He fakes a sob, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought we had something special, love.” 

You sigh, going along with his act. “I’m sorry it had to come to this, Jamie. You know how I feel about pets.”

“So that’s just it, then? You’re leaving me for a hippopotamus?” James cracks his voice at the end of his lamenting, hand flying up to cover his mouth, suppressing his “sobs.”

It was getting admittedly hard for you to keep up the act, though. But you persevere.

“It’s nothing personal, James. I swear,” Your voice wavers at the end, the start of an uprising laughter in your throat.

“Do you, actually?” 

You count what seems to be like five seconds of you and your boyfriend just staring at each other. It was almost as if James was challenging you to break. Ironically, you were starting to think that you were going to. 

But then he beats you there as you watch his face split into a wide grin, his canines doing nothing to quell his boyish handsomeness. Your boy always looked good, but he looked especially nicer when he was happy, smiling. 

Laughing, too, most of all. James had the kind of laughter that sounded like a wind chime when a breeze passed by, making you feel light and floaty as if on a cloud. He also had the kind of laughter that you just couldn’t help but join in, and share the moment with him.

“Absolutely nothing,” was what he would say whenever you asked him what you wanted to do together. 

But if you asked him what you’d want to talk about? James would say, “Absolutely everything.”

“Now I can’t remember what I was supposed to do!” You exclaimed, your laughter dying down to soft, involuntary chuckles as the lighthearted air of James’ relentless quips lingers between you both. “If my portrait turns out wonky, I’m blaming you.”

James’ grin could only grow with pride. He always loved to make you laugh. “Hey, that’s not fair. I only asked if–”

“No, don’t start again!” You rushed to stop him, pursing your lips to contain yourself.

“I haven’t even said anything,” He beamed at you, unashamed of how cheeky he was being. 

“You were gonna!” 

Your boyfriend shakes his head resolutely, pushing his glasses up his nose with a careful finger. “No, I wasn’t!”

“Top ten things a liar would say.”

James scoffs, affronted. “Top ten things an unfair person would say.”

You tut, shaking your head disapprovingly. “You need to come up with your own comebacks, you know.”

“Well, hey– it’s not my fault I decided to date the loveliest, most creative, most swell girl ever in the entire world,” Your boyfriend reasons, his million-dollar smile ever present on his lips.

You feel your face grow warm by his words. Even after a year (and counting) of being with James romantically, you could never quite get used to his praising you. But that had been the deal—if you couldn’t get used to it, then he’d have to do it more often so that you would eventually get used to it.

So, you clear your throat, returning your attention back to the task at hand: painting a portrait of your boyfriend. James can see right through your feigned indifference, but mirrors your actions with his own painting. 

“‘Swell?’” You place the finishing touches of your painting of James on your canvas. There’s colours of red, brown, orange, yellow, and all its shades from the most subtle to the most vibrant. You’re not really a painter, you’re more of an appreciator of paintings. But you hoped that the message would get through to your boyfriend—to you, he was love and warmth personified. 

He shrugs in response, eyes glimmering with mirth as he works on his own portrait of you. You couldn’t help but wonder what he had drawn and painted of you. The anticipation was high. “Yeah, you’re swell.” 

“Where’d you get that from?” 

“Er,” James scratches behind his ear with his free hand. “Sirius.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “I knew it.” 

Your boyfriend spares you a glance over his canvas, and you meet eyes with your smiles mirroring each other. James hears you snicker as you turn back to your painting, and the dimples in his cheeks deepen.

“Alright, I think… I’m done,” You lean back against your chair, observing your portrait of James with criticising eyes—though not necessarily criticising the muse of your painting, but rather the painting you’d done yourself. 

Real-life James from across you makes a humming sound. “I think… I am, too.” 

“So, who’s going first?” The pair of you chorus, then laugh.

“Ladies first?” Your boyfriend asked.

You consider it for a moment, eyes never leaving your painting as you continue to observe it. You were afraid of mucking it up further than how messy it looked now to you, so you refrain from making any more adjustments. 

“Uh… no. I think it’s best if you go first,” A rueful smile graces your lips. 

James sighs, and you just know he’s downplaying his own efforts before the painting is even shown to you. “Alright, then. Here we–”

“—Also because I think we should save the best for last,” You rushed to say, unable to resist the opportunity to tease him.

Your boyfriend’s eyes go comically wide, and as you do your evil cackling, he scoffs indignantly. “I see how it is. Well, feast your eyes upon my greatest creation of all time–!”

James grabs his canvas by the sides with careful hands, then flips it around so the front of his painting is finally facing you. 

Behind the canvas, the artist—your boy—has his gaze fixed on your face, waiting for any sign of a reaction. In truth, he’d be devastated if you didn’t crack a smile or gasp! “This is amazing, James! I love you with my whole heart!” 

But he’s also aware that he wasn’t Van Gogh or Picasso, so he should be cutting himself some slack. But damn it all if he doesn’t get your stamp of approval on his painting of you—the most beautiful work of art he’s ever seen. 

Said “beautiful work of art he’s ever seen” now sits across from him, rendered speechless—which was out of the ordinary, so you had James worried. You did expect something “humble” to come out of his work, something worth placing in the Louvre museum that would rival the Mona Lisa, and something you’d both argue over like, “James, this is amazing!” and he’d respond, “Nah, I could do better.” 

Well, your expectations were met, but they had exceeded you by a lot. A lot, a lot. 

The background of the portrait is painted in a pastel, sky blue colour, adorned with symmetrically shaped clouds in white. And there’s that sun in the corner of the canvas, a smiley face drawn on it, too—a staple in a child’s painting. 

But it didn’t stop there; alongside the clouds were some painted flowers. There were daisies, your favourite. Tulips, also your favourite. There were little bees and butterflies and hearts all around, there was so much going on in the background of the painting that you didn’t know which to pay attention to.

Though you did know, realistically, which to pay attention to. It wasn’t in the birds and the bees painted haphazardly across the background—in the middle of the painting was a rather messier variant of you. You in your candid, cozy glory, donning your jumper. The curve of your jaw, the size of your eyes. James had managed to capture you in your likeness. You could see yourself in the painting. 

Most of all, however, you’re speechless of the fact he’d managed to capture you beautifully. Have you always looked like this to him? Is this what he sees every time he looks at you? Is this what he sees now as he looks at you?

“Erm, do you–“ James clears his throat, his fingers drumming against the sides of his canvas as he held it up in front of you. He was anxious because you still hadn’t shown any reaction whatsoever in the span of half a minute. “is it that bad?” 

A lighthearted jest. Probably to dissuade the brewing anxiety in his mind from your lack of a reaction. His leg was already starting to bounce restlessly from under the table. He’s thankful that you’re unable to see that, at least. 

“‘Bad?’” 

“Yes, ‘bad.’” A beat passes. “Is it?” 

You shake your head at once, having gathered your bearings after all. A smile slowly starts to make its way onto your face. “It’s not bad. Not at all, James, this is–“ 

James doesn’t know what to do now, if he’s being honest. He wishes you could just come out and say it in his face that he was a trash painter, and that his portrait belonged in the dumps. He’d rather that than wait in agony—

“It’s so nice,” You finally manage to say, your voice dripping with fondness for him. His heart skips a beat at the sight of your smile—all sweet and pretty and lovely, so lovely. So loving. 

“Really?” James gains a smidge of his confidence back with your reactions. “You like it?” 

“Like it? I love it!” You abandon your chair, rounding the table to tackle him into a hug, planting a loud smack of a kiss on his cheek. “You made me look so pretty! Best boyfriend ever!” 

Said boyfriend feels like he could melt in your arms right now, but he returns your affections by tightening his own arms around your waist, pulling you down so that you sit on his lap. 

“‘Best boyfriend ever?’ Now that’s a title I can get behind,” He chuckles, grinning widely up at you as you did the same at him. Two birds of a feather, their love mirrored in one another’s eyes, and hearts. 

Long story short, when you show your portrait to James, he makes sure to let you know that he loves it. Absolutely, indubitably adores it. He declares that he’ll frame it and hang it up in his room. He’ll contact local historians to let them know that, “Hey, I think we’ve got another revolutionary artist in our time and it’s my girl.” 

(He also makes a few comments of how you “didn’t quite get his nose right” and how “his hair looked exaggerated in your painting” and that that was “hair-racist.” What?)

At the very end of your date night, the pair of you decide to paint another picture—a third to add to your collection—but this time around, it included the two of you, with a grubby look of a house beside you both, three other little people, some dogs here, some cats there, and then some. 

ty for reading \(￣︶￣*\)) likes, replies, n reblogs r always appreciated !! <3

[tartt9]

"Course I care," Jamie says with a nod. He'd needed people to step in and care about him when he was in the Academy, and not everyone did that. In fact, while his coaches nurtured him to the best of their ability, they never stopped him to truly ask how he got his bruises. Jamie wasn't clumsy, isn't clumsy, he's a fucking artist on his feet, he obviously didn't just fall over and bump his arm into the corner of a table. Nobody from the senior side came to their trainings to make sure everything was alright. He got lucky in regards to having Paddy around after he got his call up, but his call up came after Amsterdam, after every single first when it came to Jamie experiencing his father's tongue and hands. He wishes he'd had someone when he was 14, 15, 16 and desperately trying to break into the Prem. Desperately trying to prove himself, despite his hard exterior, begging for someone outside of his mum to look at him and hug him and tell him he's done well, even when he doesn't score a game winner. The least Jamie could do is hang back on Richmond campus and have a kickabout with some of the kids, to hear them and their thoughts out.

"Yeah - erm, played guitar for a little while, too." That stopped when he really picked up pace when it came to training, when he was dedicating all of his time and energy on football, on being the best footballer he could become. He stayed on campus late after training, well past sundown; because he knew his way home like the back of his hand, he could train all he wanted on his own. That meant that he had to cut out most everything else, though. Ask his teachers - he'd been a shit pupil, because he'd cut out most of his homework, too.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head. His mum's taste isn't shit. It's very good, actually. Maybe that comes from having a young mum, or maybe it's just that their tastes match up. She's the reason he's into ABBA, and Fleetwood Mac, and the Spice Girls, and maybe that's shit music taste to some people, but it's shit music taste to people who don't like fun and also women being powerful. "Y'make cassette tapes?" He asks. "Jesus, haven't seen one of those in years..." He'd had a cassette player beside his bed as a kid, with shit headphones that he'd plug into it and listen to music well past the time he should've been sleeping, but he hasn't actively seen a cassette tape since he moved away from home. "But - erm, I might've? I don't really classify what I listen to into genres until Spotify tells me what sorts of genres I like once a year." Bathtub Cigarettes. Odd name, but definitely a name for a band. Something that he'd hear and assume that, yeah, it's a band. He nods - he'll give them a Google when he gets home.

"I wouldn't mind coaching, I just think I'd be dead shit at it." Why would people want to listen to him? The look that the team gave him in the dressing room at Arsenal when he explained total football [ and exactly what position Jamie ought to be playing ] to them, it gave him such a rush of adrenaline. His opinion was valued. People wanted to hear him talk about the game. Fuck, he could've sworn he got a half-chub from it. Proverbially. Or maybe literally, it was the last thing on his mind, for once. "There're other things I'm good at," Jamie all but lies. What else is he as good at as he is at football? Sex, maybe. He's never had anyone tell him otherwise. He could've been a decent singer-slash-guitarist if he'd actually given a shit about that. Otherwise...? It's all football, it's always been football. "I just... I really love the game. And I'm lucky t'be playin' it for a job. I'd still be playin' it if it didn't pay me, like, in a Sunday league or summat, but... guess I'm just so good the country needed me."

"yeah man, pretty fuckin' good. means you care and stuff." i'm not very familiar with the ins and outs of football, and jamie doesn't really need to hear more of that. but the fact that jamie wants to check on the kids, see how they're doing, that's something. when i was younger if i had someone like that in my life, it would have meant the world. for a second i debate saying something about that but change my mind. no one wants to hear about that shit. my smile only widens when jamie says he's into music, and i pop my skateboard off the ground once more, holding onto it. i rock back and forth on my feet, excitement quickly taking me over.

"woah dude, that's awesome! had no idea you were into music like that. i was always listenin' t' music when i was growin' up. not the shit my parents listened too, though. not that your mom listens to shit music. but my parents ... phew. not great." i shake my head and let out a sigh, "i was in like ... band and choir and stuff growin' up. somethin' t' keep me out'f the house. ended up really fallin' in love with it." a laugh slips past my lips at the question about being on spotify, and i shake my head once more. "nah man. ain't on spotify. our stuff's on youtube, though. and we've got like ... caset tapes and cd's. dunno if you'd like our stuff though. like ... well, y'ever heard of folk punk? kinda like that ... but more angry. not in a bad way, just gettin' out our societal frustrations and shit. we're uh ... we're called bathtub cigarettes, if y' wanna look us up."

i chuckle, moving one hand from my board so it can rub at the nape of my neck. "yeah guess y' gotta point. god i'd probably like ... die if i tried t' coach. like i don't know shit. can't do what ted did, y'know. i can teach people stuff, but stuff i know. like music or skateboarding." i let out a loud laugh then, shrugging my shoulders. "honestly i didn't know why th' fuck y'all did what y' did. some people may be motivated by th' money, y'know. guess ... really just thought y' did it because you were good at it. i dunno."

[gay-dorito-dust]

How about some blue beetle romantic headcanons?

I might’ve gone on for a bit so I had to stop myself before I go overboard. 🦦

I don’t know much about Jaime but if there’s one thing I do know is that he’s got a big heart, a massive one at that, a heart that withholds a lot of love for the people he’s blessed to have in his life; which so happens to include yourself. ❤️

With you, Jaime is a puppy in love, he’s infatuated and sometimes he doesn’t even realise that he’s doing it unless someone mentions it, it might be because Jamie finds that admiring you comes naturally to him. So much so that it becomes almost second nature for him to just step outside of himself and admire you with a dopey/puppy look in those pretty eyes of his…that is until Khaji-Da’s voice echos within his mind- and interrupting his shameless ogling- to talk about how high his oxytocin and serotonin levels were.

To which he would jump at the sound of before then becoming increasingly warm with embarrassment, which would be something Khaji-Da would also comment on, much to Jaime’s dismay;

‘Jaime, you are flustered, perhaps, embarrassed even?’

‘Oh shut it.’ He would hiss.

‘I’m sorry?’ You’d ask, thinking he was taking to you, which only made Jaime feel even more uncomfortably warm beneath with his skin as he tried to make up for his accidental slip up.

His response would vary based on whether or not he had told you about the whole Blue Beetle thing.

If you didn’t know he was Blue Beetle: ‘Oh no, not you, never you, I was just…talking to myself.’

If you did know he was Blue Beetle; ‘that was towards Kahji-Da. Not you, never at you y/n. Now what we’re you talking about again?’ Jaime would urge you into continuing your conversation, all the while leaning against the wall as the adoring look upon his face reappeared.

Cuddle bug. Look me in the eyes and tell me he’s not because he fucking is!

You’d both be cuddled up on the couch with his head resting on your chest or yours on his chest, just being your lovely selves, when Milagro would often come into the room to tease her brother by dry heaving or telling you both to get a room. She loved her brother and that love often comes with teasing/taunting the fuck out of him like siblings always do.

Allows you to borrow his hoodies because he loves how you look in them, and totally would not try to discreetly snap a few pictures that you will sooner or later find out about after he uses them as his lock/ and or Home Screen. Where again he would trip over himself trying to find an excusable answer before you would have to ultimately stop him before he hurts himself by admitting to how cute and sweet of him that he would make you his home/Lock Screen.

Or even go as far as to dedicate an whole album to you that’s filled with pictures of you both doing mundane stuff but Jaime’s personal favourite pictures would have to be the ones where you’re with his family or stargazing up on the rooftop with him.

‘Of course I would, I mean why wouldn’t I?’ He grabs ahold of your hands in his own. ‘You’re my heart and soul, the light of my life, why wouldn’t I want to dedicate you in one way or another? I withhold no shame in showing you off because at the end of the day I’m remembered that you chose me, and that’s something I would never take for granted for you are my wish upon a star came true.’ He lifts up your hands so that he may presses a kiss to them before squeezing tightly. ‘So let me at the least reciprocate the love you’ve given me.’

Though let’s be honest Khaji-Da would assume that when Jaime lets you wear his clothes, it was under the pretence of a…territorial thing so that others that may pose a threat to your and Jaime’s relationship take note that you weren’t theirs to openly stare at. And to this Khaji-Da would simply say;

‘why don’t we just eliminate all threats, just so that there is no one left alive to challenge us?’

‘First of all, you’ve got it all wrong Khaji-Da, I don’t just give y/n my clothes because I feel territorial over them.’ Jaime would begin to explain. ‘I give them my clothes because I genuinely find them beautiful/handsome/cute/charming/amazing/stunning in them and most of all I want them to feel as though they’ve got a piece of me when I’m away Blue Beetling it up as my scent gives them a sense of peace and comfort. Does that make sense.’ He finishes.

… ‘we could still kill them.’ - Khaji-Da

‘Please stop.’ - Jaime Reyes

Words of affirmation, physical touch and quality time are Jaime’s bread and butter. (though that’s just my personal opinion.)

He’s got a whole book full of affirmations made specifically for you because he becomes like a never ending fountain of sweet, dorky yet beautiful words when it came to you; So much so that there wouldn’t be a day where you went without some affirming and words from your beloved Jaime Reyes. Words that never fail to make your heart melt, your smile grow and overall make you feel like you could move mountains because that’s how being with Jaime made you feel on a daily basis.

So in return, you smother him in kisses, affection and your own words of love because why should you receive all of his love without giving him all of your love back tenfold.

[aaal-iz-well]

✦ making the rumor mill churn ✦　　

a/n: hey guys, so this is basically me making good on my promise to post small ficlets and stuff, so here you go. enjoy reading it. the title says it all.

“Avery!”

“Miss Grambs!”

“Look here!”

“Mr. Hawthorne, how do you feel about the comments on your relationship with Avery Grambs?”

Avery tensed beside Jameson, smile growing tight, and despite all the media practice, her shoulders curled inwards. No one would notice it, except the edits where they focused on every micro aspect of her body language in slow motion.

Avery would hate it.

Jameson cocked his head in a pose, winking at a random boy in behind the cameras, seeing him squeak. He widened his stance, because despite the heels, Avery wasn’t quite as tall as him.

“Heiress?” he spoke in her ear.

“Huh,” she hummed, careful not to turn towards him. He could already imagine all the thoughts in her head, what would happen if she did.

“Do you think they know,” he asked casually over the din of the reporters bombing them with questions.

What would you say about your father’s connection with Miss Skye Hawthorne? There’s uncertainty about the future of the Hawthorne name after your decision to liquidate majority of assets for charity. Is it—

“What, Jameson?” Usually, his vague questions (Heiress, guess what I’m thinking right now? When am I going to see the girl of my dreams?) were met with equally vague— and at times mischievous— answers from the young billionaire.

A question for a question.

He would forgive her for not playing this time. He supposed the strain of her smile, of having to keep her cheeks up, but not too wide, not too creepy, not so, bluh, generic, not like that, was taking a toll on her capacity to entertain him.

No worries, he could be the entertainer tonight.

“About the mark on my collarbone,” he whispered, the words barely more than air. “Do you think I should pull it down just a little, teeny tiny bit. Give them something to talk about?”

“Jameson!” she said through her smile, eyes never straying to his. Her calmness was laudable, really. At times, he was willing to bet it gave Grayson’s a run for his money. Literally. But he could sense the undertone of warning in it. she might as well have said the words with daggers in her eyes.

“What are you going to do?” he challenged her in a sing song manner, pretending not to notice the tick in her jaw. The way she seemed to withdraw from the crowd was something he relished in. The way, despite her frozen face, he knew he had her attention. Her spine straightened. Her smile was muscle memory, and she was looking— not at the reporters of cameras, or journalists— just looking. Her gorgeous self. Above all the lies they were ready to spew about her.

“Are you going to kiss me on the mouth after that, cause like cat’s out of the bag?” he continued lowly, serenading in her ear. “Really really hard. Show them you did it, banish all those stories from their minds.”

“Shut up Jameson,” she said, her lips barely moving to make the sound. They moved further up the carpet, his hand on her back.

Jameson assesses the crowd from this higher vantage. “They seem to want to know an awful lot, don't they. And I wouldn’t mind climbing the rung to the hottest Hawthorne. My aunt's had her days, af—”

Suddenly, Jameson shut his mouth like a trap.

Well, that was okay, relatively okay, considering the alternative was yelping like a kitten when Avery pinched him, right on his hip. Where she knew the skin wasn’t quite as sturdy as the rest on his body. They’d had a long night, though he was far from complaining.

“Cat got your tongue, Jamie darling?” she said, finally finally looking at him, speaking the words right over his face. The words weren’t spoken through her frozen smile. This was a secretive one, meant only for him. Something that Landon couldn’t take the credit for instilling, something entirely, unapologetically her own.

The answer to her question would be in the affirmative, cause he couldn’t bring himself to answer. His entire body tingled with tremors, the epicentre where she’d pinched him.

“Who knew you had a pause button.” Her nails lightly dragged over his back, but they were more soothing than teasing. “Smile for the cameras.”

“You forget, Heiress,” he told her when he’d recovered. A forearm hoisted on her shoulder to make up for lost time. “Two can play that game.”

“They very well can,” she told him, a twinkle in her eyes. “But I doubt you want me on your bad side, Jameson Winchester Hawthorne.”

His heiress really did know all the chinks in his armour. The way she said his name, the practiced ease, it slowly rolled off her mouth like that. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Like leisurely unspinning a yarn; a command; a challenge; a gauntlet thrown down. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. Brimming with things only the two of them could understand.

He was a squeaking schoolgirl, a fangirl, a crazy man palpitating on the street.

“What?” he asked her. “You're going to unleash your PR dogs on me”

“I’ll alone be enough to make you regret it, let alone my PR.”

Jameson, for this once thought it best not to test her. He was done here. So he let his arm drop from her shoulder and wound it around her waist instead as they made to take their seats. “I think I agree.”

“Miss Grambs, Mr. Hawthorne, is it true that the two of you are in a relationship? The rumour mill is certainly going to be busy tonight.”

And well, later on, when it was Avery’s turn on the stage, he knew that camera was panned in on him, if he fanned his collar— it was a bit stuffy, in his defence, or rather his cover— and made sure people knew, he could always claim plausible deniability.

a/n: so that's it. i have some more ideas and may be posting soon, thanks for reading. also feel free to send some promp if you iiked this. buh byee love you guys

[inmyheaddd]

✦ we’d still worship this love - averyjameson

warnings: kissing, jameson wants avery sooooo bad, avery wants him just as much wc: 717 a/n: averyjameson how i’ve missed you!! also… listen to false god when reading this, u will not regret it 😇 masterlist

“you’ll lose that game of yours. this is a bad idea, jameson.” avery whispered against his lips, feeling him smile at the words. 

the only thing her body was registering was him— gone was the candle she lit earlier as she was getting ready, still flickering on the desk and lighting the room orange, gone were the guests downstairs that were here for her birthday. the only thing that seemed to not be gone was jameson.

“those are what i’m known for, princess.” he mumbled right back, his thumb drawing circles on her jaw that he held in his hand.

earlier that day, after max had claimed they “couldn’t keep their paws off eachother for more than an hour,” they made a bet: who would break first and kiss the other.

jameson was a betting man if anything, and avery? well, she loved to win, and she loved to tease jameson. 

2 in 1? sign her up. 

avery scoffed in amusement, “princess?” that was new, but despite herself, a smile stretched across her lips. 

jameson’s brow quirked up, leaning back slightly so he could eye the tiara placed delicately on her head— one from 17th century england, nonetheless.

“am i wrong?” he challenged, a slow grin on his lips.

avery scoffed once again, “shut up,” she shook her head, before taking off the tiara and placing it on the desk carefully. 

and miraculously by some force, she took down her updo held together by 3 pins on the first try. 

her brown hair fell past her shoulders in soft waves, and she watched jamesons eyes follow her hair, before they came back to her eyes.

“you seem to have no plans of going back downstairs, then?”

he was right, but he didn’t have to know that. she tilted her head, faux frowning a little. “what makes you say that?” 

“updo when you walked in the room with me, hair down when you come back?” he shrugged, that smirk only widening as he made his point. 

“i doubt there’d be much guessing on what happened, no?” 

her eyebrow rose, knowing this dance all too well, “and what are you suggesting will happen, that people would be guessing on, jameson?”

his eyes flickered between avery’s, and at her lips for a split second, before back to her eyes that he loved so much. 

“answering a question with another question,” he murmured, “how very hawthorne of you.”

her heart still raced at his proximity as she looked up at him, but she wouldn’t show it. 

she didn’t take her gaze off of his. not for a single second. “i’m not a hawthorne.”

his eyes narrowed — almost in amusement maybe, as he tilted his head to the side ever so slightly. 

he only smiled.

she could sense there were a million thoughts running behind those green eyes of his— she always could.

he didn’t say any of them.

instead, he took the tiniest step back, exhaling as running a hand over his mouth, letting out a low chuckle. “you’re going to be the death of me.” 

“what?” she asked, feigning innocence and willing herself not to show any signs of being flustered.

“just kiss me already,” he sighed, retaking that step he took, “i’m begging you.” 

she was surprised she didn’t jump at the words, but she maintained her composure somehow. “begging?” she teased, “that’s new for you, jameson.”

“you’ll get used to it.” he inched closer, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up. “please, you’re killing me.”

she smiled, rolling her eyes in fake annoyance like the act would cost her, “i’m not forgetting the rules, jamie. i kiss you, and you win.” she rose her eyebrows, eyes flickering to his lips. “go ahead and kiss me yourself.”

he grinned dangerously, he really thought he would’ve gotten away with that. “fair game, heiress.” he said, before finally pressing his lips to hers. 

‘avery 1, jameson 0’ avery thought as she moved her lips against his, her hands traveling up to tug on his hair. 

as he pulled back just enough to see her eyes sparkle at him, he spoke against her lips once again like he could read her thoughts. 

“i lost the game.” he murmured with a teasing smile, “you win. you always do, heiress.” 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @taysbrina

@littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou

@emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23

@imaseabear @soleilars @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe

@lanterns-and-daydreams 

[cold-black-and-infinite]

*Me listening to Challengers Mixed* TRENT AND MARIQUEEN ARE TELLING ME TO WHAT??!?

[xoxobuckybarnes]

Stucky Fic Recs

@gabulinkasposts asked for some Stucky High School, College, and Sports recs, so here are some of my favorites:

High School AU

Lost Boys and Broken Toys (Rated: E, Words: 204K) by KK_Banyu

Summary: When 17-year-old Steve Rogers moves from Brooklyn to Manhattan with his mother, he's eager to attend his new high school and meet new friends. He looks forward to trying out for the track team and involving himself in the visual arts. Although Steve is ready to face any challenge head-on, he still finds himself haunted by an incident from his past--when his childhood best friend disappeared under mysterious circumstances. If Steve leaves Brooklyn now, will they ever have a chance at reuniting? Jamie Pierce has been a resident of Manhattan for as long as he can remember, ever since being adopted at a young age. His memories of his life before then are fuzzy at best. Now 17, he's finding more and more that his home life and relationship with his father are not typical compared to other kids and is struggling to reconcile with these differences. When Steve and Jamie cross paths at school, their spark is immediate, but somehow, both boys share the inexplicable feeling the thing between them is different--more than just a horny, teenage crush, their connection feels deeper, more like coming home. But that's impossible--they've never met before...right?

Then I'd Be Another Memory (Rated: M, Words: 190K) by Kellyscams / @thebestpersonherelovesbucky

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Bucky Barnes has it all. He’s the captain of the basketball team, has a great social life, his choice of ivy league schools, and was just announced as his class’s valedictorian. Senior year is going perfectly. Until he gets assigned to be a peer mediator to Steve Rogers – one of their class’s biggest trouble makers who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut and goes around picking fights with everyone. The last thing Bucky needs is to get mixed up with Steve and his pretty blue eyes and soft blonde hair and heart-melting smile. Even if it turns out he’s not quite what Bucky’s thought all this time. Even if maybe someone just needs to listen to Steve’s side of the story. Even if Steve’s heart is so much bigger than Bucky could have ever imagined. Because Steve Rogers is so not worth becoming friends with. Again. Bucky learned that lesson years ago. Unfortunately, there are some things that Bucky just can’t control. Steve Rogers – and the way Bucky feels about him – is one of them.

Conundrum (Rated: M, Words: 45K) by this_wayward_life

Summary: Bucky Barnes is not popular in the slightest. He's overly sarcastic, has no interest in fashion, and everything about him screams "Do Not Approach". And Bucky is totally okay with that. It's his last year in school, anyway - and unless his entire year level turns out to be evil aliens, he doesn't care about any of them. Then Bucky meets Steve Rogers. Steve is handsome, friendly, sweet, funny and completely irrelevant to Bucky's life. Bucky is determined to ignore him, but Steve has a life of his own - and he's determined to have Bucky in it.

Tripping On Stars (Rated: M, Words: 32K) by goldheartedsky

Summary: When Bucky Barnes finds the school’s golden child, Steve Rogers, passed out and not breathing in the locker rooms from an apparent drug overdose, his world turns upside down. After performing CPR long enough for the ambulance to arrive, he struggles to understand how someone with everything going for him could throw his life away like that. Over the next few months, they grow closer and closer and Bucky starts to realize that maybe they’re both holding onto more secrets than either of them know.

Your Shadow Weighs a Ton (Rated: M, Words: 72K) by me (xoxobuckybarnes)

Summary: Steve Rogers is a little lost in the world right now. His mother is gone, he's about to be evicted, and he's just been arrested. Just when he's about to lose everything, George Barnes, his public defender, rescues him, taking him in, acting as his legal guardian. With a new temporary family, comes a new friend: George's son, Bucky. Bucky Barnes has had a bit of a rough go the past few years. But he's come out on the other side stronger than ever and ready to start his senior year of high school. Even better, he's got a new friend to battle high school with: Steve Rogers. Steve and Bucky have met each other exactly when they needed each other most. Each one is exactly the type of friend the other one needs. And perhaps, there might be something more than friendship on the horizon...

College Au

Alkynes of Trouble (Rated: E, Words: 11K) by yammz / @yammz

Summary: “Doing nothing would be helpful,” Bucky said before he could stop himself. He averted his eyes from what was sure to be another kicked puppy expression. “Look, I’m just gonna be real with you. I can’t fuck up this lab. Fury’s got open positions in his lab, and I need to look good for those, okay? This isn’t just a checked box on my requirements,” he told him honestly. “It’s nothing personal but--” “But you’re smarter,” Steve supplied, a sad smile on his lips. He ducked his head, a motion that simply would not work to make him seem small. He was way too big for that. “I get it.”

Not the Same River at my Fingertips (Rated: E, Words: 11K) by giselleslash / @gigi-gigi

Summary: Steve desperately needs a ride home for Christmas but the last person he wants to take help from is Bucky Barnes. There’s a one night stand gone badly and four years of hurt feelings and misunderstandings between them. Of course there's a road trip home that goes perfectly smoothly.

That Boy Is a Problem (Rated: E, Words: 10K) by 2bestfriends

Summary: In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve's dick and he's really into it. (The leash is a metaphor. For now.)

He's All That (Rated: T, Words: 88K) by crinklefries / @spacerenegades

Summary: “That one,” Tony says gleefully. “I pick him.” “Him?” Bucky hisses. “Steve Rogers?” “Bet’s a bet,” Tony says smugly. “Make Steve Rogers the class president by the end of the year.” “Motherfucker,” Bucky curses. Then he takes a fortifying breath. He can do this. He’s Bucky Son of A Senator Barnes. He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in the front just the way he knows men and women like it. “Fine,” he says. “Okay. By the end of the year. Easy.” *** When Bucky Barnes--son of a state Senator, future president of his fraternity, and co-captain of his college’s soccer team--gets unceremoniously and very publicly dumped at a party, his entire reputation hangs on by the thinnest thread. Drunk and humiliated, he does the only thing that makes sense--he makes a bet with Tony Stark. Now Bucky has the length of the school year to take Steve Rogers--small, asthmatic, environmentally-conscious art nerd, political activist, and complete social disaster--and turn him into the student body president. How many misunderstandings, shenanigans, and college tropes will abound before Bucky realizes that Steve Rogers, well, he’s all that?

Learn Me Hard Oh, Learn Me Right (Rated: E, Words: 60K) by AHM1121 / @love-ha-fge

Summary: “Have you always struggled with math, Steve?” Dr. Potts asked. The blush crept higher as the same shame that he had felt since the second grade crawled up his spine. “You’re not the only one.” She assured, handing the papers back to him. “Luckily, you can get one-on-one tutoring at the student center, your tuition covers two sessions per week.” “Thank you ma’am.” Steve accepted the paper and stood, sliding his backpack over his shoulders. Making his way out of her office he paused when she called his name. “Ma’am?” “Ask for Bucky Barnes.” Her lips turned up at the name. “He’s one of the math majors that I oversee, haven’t had a student work with him who hasn’t passed.” No pressure, Steve thought. “I’ll make sure to do that. Thank you Dr. Potts.” “Good luck Steve.” He didn’t need luck, he needed a miracle.

Home for the Summer (Rated: T, Words: 1K) by Ladyjaybird

Summary: Steve is really glad his best friend Bucky is back from college for the summer. And the little touches and sweet compliments Bucky keeps giving him aren't bad, either. But Bucky is just a naturally flirtatious guy, right? Or is something else happening here? (Spoiler: yes)

Sports AU

Citius, Altius, Fortius (Faster, Higher, Stronger) (Rared: M, Words: 50K) by MarcellaBianca

Summary: Steve Rogers. James Barnes. One, an NHL star with dreams of finally capturing an Olympic gold medal. The other, a former World champion and Olympic silver medalist, now a current coach and choreographer for the top flight figure skaters in the Russian Federation. But before all of that.. they were Steve and Bucky. Until they weren't.

Targeting (Rated: E, Words: 140K) by queenmabscherzo / @queenmabscherzo

Summary: Steve and Bucky end up playing for rival college football teams.

Fixed Links Circumnavigate (Rated: E, Words: 30K) by paperstorm

Summary: Steve’s eyes stay glued to Bucky on the television, and he tries to be happy for him. He tries, with everything he’s got in him, not to feel like in a split second, in 10 little words – the Pittsburgh Penguins are proud to select forward James Barnes – that he just lost Bucky forever. Bucky is drafted into the NHL. Steve loves him in secret, and from a distance. An accident ends Bucky's career when it's barely started, and Steve is left to pick up the pieces.

lane lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace

Summary: Steve Rogers has spent his entire life swimming and now is poised to take the Wakanda 2024 Olympics by storm. The only thing he’s missing is a friendly rival to help get him there. Enter Bucky Barnes, who doesn’t seem to take the sport quite as seriously despite his raw and enviable talent. Steve hates him. Bucky doesn’t care. That makes Steve hate him more. - aka: the Olympics swimming AU that nobody but me asked for

Okay, so he can play... (pretty's got nothing to do with it) (Rated: E, Words: 50K) by darter_blue

Summary: This is supposed to be Steve's year. He's meant to be taking his team to finals. He's meant to get signed to his dream club. He's meant to have it all. Until in walks the new kid, with his beautiful face and his tiny shoulders and his long hair and his graceful skating. Who doesn’t look anything like a proper hockey player. Who's going to ruin everything. Bucky Barnes is about to bring Steve Roger's world crashing down. And Steve is about to realise that's a good thing. Maybe the best thing that ever happened to him.

Howitzer (Rated: E, Words: 11K) by spacebuck / @spacebuck

Summary: Bucky Barnes, figure skating champion, is forced to switch his skates for hockey ones when he leaves for college. Problem is, he's never played hockey before, and now he has to be good enough to get the scholarship he needs. Enter Steve Rogers, Carter University Men's Hockey player, who's decided that he'd do anything to get this guy on his team. Cue five am runs, overwhelming classes, new friends, plenty of snow, and a sport that's fast becoming a way of life.

Full Count (Rated: M, Words: 50K) by Ink_Dancer

Summary: Full Count: a baseball term referring to a situation during a player’s at bat where there are three balls and two strikes on him. As this is the maximum one can have without either walking (base on balls) or striking out, this is generally expected to be a very stressful situation for both the pitcher and the batter. The pitch that is then thrown on this count is expected to be the one that decides the batter’s fate, and carries with it a certain expectation of change. It’s known as the payoff pitch: it’s the payoff for a long wait. or: a stucky au that takes place in the world of Major League Baseball, in which Bucky is a catcher, Steve is a closing pitcher, and their lives are stuck in a perpetual full count—until life throws the payoff pitch and they end up on the same Dodgers team.

Going Yard (Rated: E, Words: 41K) by Brenda / @brendaonao3

Summary: Going Yard: Baseball vernacular for hitting a home run. This is the love story of shortstop Steve Rogers and pitcher Bucky Barnes, estranged childhood best friends about to be reunited on the same team. This is a love story about New York's other baseball team, the Avengers, and their quest to claim the National League East division title. This is a love story about going home and new friends and team bonding and first loves and how the people you're the closest to can also drive you the craziest. But mostly, this is a love story about baseball and the boys of summer who play it.

Armbands & Bandwidth (Rated: E, Words: 61K) by sopdetly / @poedinson

Summary: Steve Rogers, captain of the Philadelphia Forge and the US Men’s Soccer National Team, keeps his head down and leads his teams quietly but effectively. Carol Danvers, captain of the Philadelphia Marvels and the US Women’s Soccer National Team, sports a pink-streaked fauxhawk, demands equal pay, and is anything but quiet. When Carol asks Steve to start a podcast with her to promote their teams and spread their love of the game, Steve thinks it’ll be a fun experiment and his agent thinks maybe he’ll start showing some personality. What Steve doesn’t expect is to meet a devastatingly hot producer. For his biggest secret to come to the surface. For this one offer to change his entire life.

wholesale change (Rated: M, Words: 83K) by biblionerd07

Summary: Steve Rogers, captain of a losing NHL team, has taken so many bad penalties this season he's worried he's going to get set down to the minors as punishment. His agent comes up with a plan to make Steve irreplaceable to the fans--a reality dating show. Where the contestants want to date Steve.

Lessons in Falling (Rated: M, Words: 28K) by lillupon / @lillupon

Summary: Bucky is a diver stuck in a rut. His synchro partner treats him like a deadweight and his coach keeps threatening to cut him from the team. After his spectacular failure in the FINA World Diving Championships, he’s ready to take a break from the sport. And then he meets Steve, a brilliant newcomer to the competitive diving scene in search of a synchro partner.

Going for Gold (Rated: E, Words: 58K) by me (xoxobuckybarnes) & art by heckalecki / @heckalecki

Summary: A long time ago, Bucky and Steve used to be friends. From the moment they met on the youth soccer field, they were inseparable, bonding over their love for the game and planning for a future together where they both got to do what they love. But Bucky hasn't seen Steve in four years. Not since their friendship ending fight. Bucky achieved his dream, became a professional soccer player, good enough to play for the U.S. Men's National Team. When Steve Rogers shows up to write a book about the Men's journey to the Olympics, Bucky's shocked. And a little angry. Can Bucky and Steve get over their fight? Can they ever have that friendship they once had?

[itsclydebitches]

I really want to take a moment to appreciate the conversation between Roy and Trent in 3x02, as a part of Ted Lasso's larger commentary on toxic masculinity.

Because these two are classic nerd/jock archetypes, yeah? (At least on the surface. The fact that they're far more complex than that is kinda the whole point.) Roy Kent is the handsome, talented, scariest motherfucker around, able to treat people like shit and still earn the devotion of the fans because he possesses the coveted Sports Skills. Trent, in contrast, is the queer kid who was never able to participate in sports himself, instead needing to turn to writing about them to find that in. As he tells Ted, for him sport is the metaphor and his words, delivered with an "edgy" style that pulls no punches, defend Trent in a way he's never been able to defend himself physically; they gain respect in a field where he'd otherwise be considered a joke. ("Is this a fucking joke?") Plus, given the implied backgrounds and present day characterization, I don't think it's much of a reach to believe that scathing articles like the one Trent wrote contain a certain amount of bitter satisfaction: Roy is "over-hyped," "mediocre," "disappointing," and driven by "rage." If that doesn't sound like a bullied kid finally getting back at all the jocks Roy represents, I don't know what does.

Notably, they repeat a version of this history during Trent's first week at Richmond. He's easily the most anxious we've ever seen him, jumping at loud noises, hands twitching in his pockets, very self-consciously trying to form a connection with the players and failing miserably. Trent is without his armor now - that of a high-profile journalist, safe behind his cutting words - and he's unable to rebuild any given that he's being denied the chance to write his stories. Why is that the case? Because top dog Roy Kent has decreed that no one talk to him. Now, we know based on Roy's characterization and what's revealed later in the episode that this is done out of a desire to protect his players from the abusive press, but outside of that context this looks a lot like the popular kid playing the part of a bully. Trent is the new kid entering class, being clocked as the outsider, briefly welcomed by someone with no prior bias (Dani)... and then that's shut down real fast from Roy. Funny as Ted Lasso is (and I was legitimately cracking up throughout the episode) there's also something extremely disquieting - in a very familiar way - at watching someone go from, "Hi! :D" to "FUCK YOU!" all on the say-so of someone with a lot of authority and social power. This dynamic continues throughout the whole week, with Trent growing more and more on edge until, finally, he just gives in. When Roy starts popping balloons he doesn't stand up for himself and demand that he share their office respectfully, Trent just tries desperately to ignore the bullying - and it is bullying, given that Roy stops popping the moment Trent leaves - and then quietly runs away, acting apologetic as he goes. When the players refuse to discuss strategy with Trent he tries to leave again, defeated, which is a far cry from the doggedly confident reporter who would wait for Jamie after practice. Woven among the humor, Trent is at his most vulnerable here, looking more and more like the victim in a hostile, traditionally masculine space.

Of course, given that this is Ted Lasso, the situation is far more complex than just, "Bullies exist and that's #bad." The locker room scene is initially set up to look that way, in large part because it takes place in a locker room/bathroom. AKA, two spaces where bullying tends to occur unimpeded - and we've already seen that in Ted Lasso back when Nate was the underdog, cowering before the rest of the Richmond team. Roy's control over the group is so complete that no one dares challenge his order to ignore Trent (except, of course, Ted himself. The guy who sparked Roy's growth from the get-go) even though the group is clearly very relieved when the ban is lifted. Roy screams at Trent, making him jump, and orders him into the semi-privacy of the showers. It speaks volumes to me that Ted feels the need to give a reassuring nod and that Trent clearly needed it because, again, outside of the fact that they're both obviously adults now and that on a surface level this moment is meant to make us laugh, this is all very reminiscent of the bully pulling the nerdy kid somewhere where he can hurt him without consequence, all while everyone sits there and watches, not really wanting it to happen, but not willing to stop it either. Everything from the setting, to Trent's defensive body language, to Roy pushing the wallet against his chest in a move reminiscent of the classic shove to start off a beating, all of it heavily implies that kind of bully/victim dynamic.

But, as said, it's not that simple. Because Roy isn't the bully here and Trent, crucially, isn't just the victim. The scene goes on to reveal that Trent is the one who has caused Roy harm, by printing a unnecessarily cruel article when he was just seventeen years old. (A revelation that pairs very nicely with his introduction this season - "Love that" - reminding us that just because Trent approves of others standing up to bullies doesn't mean he's never been one.) That was a decision that "wrecked" a young Roy, to the extent that he kept that quote in his wallet for years, only now reaching a point where he can admit how much that hurt him. Trent's explanation is understandable given his heavily implied backstory. Not that he was trying to build his career, but that he would do so by "seeing the worst in people" and hurting them first before they could hurt him. Roy was right all the way back in Season One, Trent is a colossal prick... but that's likely because others were colossal pricks to him first. Here then, we see that cycle of abuse once more, the same one Nate is currently trapped in. The difference, however, is that when Ted says, 'Your ego is hurting us, Roy' Roy listens and when Roy says, 'You really hurt me, Trent' Trent listens, and the three of them together put a stop to the cycle then and there. Trent apologizes. Roy forgives him. Roy lifts the ban and by the end of the episode they've reached a place where they can speak honestly with one another. Not just about Roy's feelings - which is a HUGE thing for him to make Trent privy to - but about the complexities of Trent's career too. We've already seen that balancing the truth with compassion is fine line for him to walk - as evidenced by him texting Ted, but still publishing his article about the panic attacks; leaving his job, but still sniffing out the Richmond story - but here we get the reversal of that. Trent has already said, 'I'm working on emphasizing the ethics of my profession' and now Roy comes in with 'I'm working to admit that a cruel article isn't necessarily an inaccurate one.' He did play like shit at Chelsea and though Trent didn't need to break the spirit of a seventeen year old, the players do need to come to terms with the fact that they're in a high profile career where everyone is judging their performance (something Ted himself is all too aware of). This is the kind of nuanced understanding that's only possible post-apology/forgiveness, wherein the story has reminded us, 'Victims are capable of becoming bullies themselves and they need to own up to their actions just as much as they deserve an apology themselves.'

All of which is REALLY important for the framing of Nate's arc because he is in Trent's position, poised somewhere between victim and bully. It's obvious the ways in which Nate was a victim of the Richmond team, of his father, and even of the public, but it's significant that he's still a victim even as he now consciously hurts others too. Rebecca had a long speech this episode about how charming Rupert is, how he'll pursue you and in the process make you feel like you're the most important person in the world, someone chosen... and though she was talking about Zava, all I could think about was Nate. He's still being charmed and wooed by Rupert, what with the compliments and the new car, but all of it comes with reminders that he's worthless without that approval (surely a cleaning lady must have parked there...). Rupert is the top dog at the moment, his oh so benevolent popularity extending to Nate, encouraging him to model that behavior in order to keep his interest... but inevitably Rupert will toss him aside, just like he did with Rebecca. He'll become bored and Nate will have to grapple with the fact that, in his effort to avoid being a victim, he became the bully instead, just like Trent had. Rebecca is waiting to help Nate understand the ways in which Rupert can demolish your sense of self-worth. Trent is waiting to help Nate understand how to own up to your mistakes. And of course, there's Ted Lasso in the wings, the American outsider who can offer a much needed, compassionate perspective on the whole of it - as well as some personal insight into panic attacks during interviews. The entirety of the Richmond community, thematically, is being built into a reflection of Nate's struggle; a collection of experiences and wisdom and kind-hearted insight that can help him if (when!) he chooses to accept it.

[tartt9]

Nodding along as she explains, Jamie dares to picture a life of his without football. Music has always been a massive part of his life; practically every great moment from his childhood that he can remember has a soundtrack to it. He thinks he fucking kills it at karaoke, but that doesn't mean he can actually sing – that's a whole different skillset. "Yeah, probably is," he agrees when she says his might be harder. Football training is unlike anything else, the routine he has to go through every day to keep himself at his peak something most people couldn't manage, both physically and mentally. He sincerely doubts that singers wake up at half four and train through dinner every day. Then again, though, most footballers don't have Roy Kent as their trainer and tormentor. "But that doesn't mean that yours ain't hard, too."

"yeah. i guess it's the same thing." she likes that he phrases it this way - comparative - so they're almost speaking the same language. "most people do; vocal coaches and personal trainers. it's good to have them - keeps you sharp." she supposes, it's similar for him. "it's probably not that different from what you do. but i think yours might be harder."

[justtwotired]

Whispers of the night - Lloyd Garmadon x F!reader

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Your POV

“Y/n L/n!” I looked back when I heard a familiar voice yell out my name. I stood at my locker, leaving my books behind at school.

Luna was leaning against the locker next to mine and Flora and Amelia where a few lockers down, noses in their own.

Well not anymore, since James yelled my name rather loudly. He was followed by the twins and Charlie who all looked stern.

“What’s with you four?” I asked and James sighed. “You challenged Brown for a fight? Are you insane?” He asked and I rolled my eyes.

“Please, Jamie, I can easily win this!” I reassured him and he sighed. “I know you can, that’s not the point. The point is that you are going to get yourself expelled and if you fail the year, we can’t got to college together!” He complained and I sighed.

“It’s going to be fine, I promise, I’ll make the year, I mean, I’m doing pretty well, I’ll promise I’ll make it trough the year so the two of us can get into college together.” I said and he narrowed his eyes at me.

“You better, because I ain’t going alone!” I laughed and shut my locker. “Let’s go, I’ve got a guy to beat up.” I grinned and they followed me outside.

“If he hurts her I’m killing him,” I heard Arthur whisper to Anthony who gave a nod in agreement. “I heard that!” I said and they looked at me, scarily in sink.

“N/n, I mean it, if he actually hurts you I will snap his neck.” Arthur said and I smiled a bit at him. I looked over at Charlie and Flora, she was revising the story to him about how I had stood up against Brown.

He gave me a thankful look and I gave him a warm smile back. These people are my family, I’ll protect them at all cost.

We walked out of the building and I was surprised to see he actually showed up. A crowd had already formed, as the news spread really fast, I just hoped a teacher wouldn’t show up.

“Millie, hold my earrings,” I said as I took them out and laid them in her hands before quickly putting my hair into a bun.

“Awe, she showed up,” he gave me a fake pouty face and I narrowed my eyes. “I will give you one last chance to fuck off and leave my friends alone, otherwise I will make you regret it,” I said and he chuckled.

“And what are you going to do? Make me-” I didn’t let him finish his sentence and punched him in the nose.

The fight had begun and he swung at me, I easily dodged him and let him trip over air as he was cluelessly attacking me.

After ten minutes, he laid panting on the ground, he’d gotten my nose aswel, though not that hard so it was only slightly bleeding.

He on the other hand had a blue eye slowly forming, blood was gushing from his nose and he had a busted lip.

I raised my foot to see if he was ready to continue but he just raised his hands to cover his face, making me out the foot down and take a step forward.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” I threatened before walking towards my cheering friends and we left the school grounds.

Lloyd POV:

“Lloyd!” I turned to Nya who entered the training room and I stopped attacking the dummy in front of me.

“What’s up?” I walked over me and she pushed her phone in my hands. “Watch!” She said and I looked at the screen.

I was surprised to see that the argument I had broken up earlier weren’t just empty threats and they actually fought.

Y/n was winning form the beginning and I was surprised to see she didn’t even seem to break a sweat.

“If I ever see you bothering my friends again, you won’t get away with it as easy as this,” my eyes winded slightly at her words as she turned around and walked towards her friends who where cheering her on.

The crowd had also quickly picked her side and clapped as she left campus, the video stopped when a voice of a teacher was heard.

“Holy shit,” I said and looked at Nya who had stars in her eyes. “Please let me meet her!” She said and I chuckled.

“We’ll see, I think she’ll like you, though,” I guaranteed and Nya squealed, “I’m going to show the others!” She then ran off and I shook my head in disbelief.

Your POV:

Alright, I was grounded for two weeks, but it was definitely worth it. I was sat in my room, reading a book when my phone buzzed.

Blondie

Just saw the video, you actually fought him? It thought you where bluffing

I chuckled and started to answer.

You

What can I say, I am one badass😎.

No, kidding, he was just an asshole that needed a lesson which I thought him.

Blondie

You where pretty good, I think my basic self defence lesson was useless for you.

You

Pretty much, but good lesson though, can’t you just teach all the time?

Blondie

Afraid Kai will be taking over again ):

But I understand you’d want me to teach, I am pretty attractive while teaching

You

Keep telling yourself that, lmao

Blondie

I didn’t have too

Your eyes did it for me during the lesson (;

You

That’s my que to go offline

Blondie

Noooo :(

You

Night blondie

My two weeks of being grounded consisted out of not allowed to see my friends, only going out when going to school and lots of training with my father.

Oh, and work, but that was only Tuesday and Thursday.

I blocked my fathers punch and was about to punch back when he kicked out my feet from under me.

I reacted by doing the same from of the ground and quickly got up, pointing my sword at his throat.

“Be nice to your old man,” he said and I pulled the tip of my sword away from his neck and helped him up.

Without a warning he stole the sword, floored me and threw the sword away. I quickly wanted to get up but he stopped me by putting his foot against my throat and I scrunched my nose.

“Dad! Gross!” I said and he laughed before sitting down next to me.

“You’re off today, normally you’d see that one coming from a mile away.” He looked at me and I sighed.

“I miss my friends, I only see them at school and they are having fun at the skatepark right now while I’m here.” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Should’ve thought about that before beating up that kid,” he said and I grinned. “He deserved it though,” I said and he pushed my shoulder slightly.

“You have five days to go, it’ll be fine, kid, we’ll make training fun, and you have work tomorrow, you like work right?” He said and I shrugged.

“I guess you’re right,” I smiled and he put an arm around me. “How about some illusions?” He asked and I smirked up at him.

The next day, I hummed along to the radio while making cookies at work, as we where almost out of the cookies we sold.

Someone entered the shop and I turned around and a genuine smile came onto my face when I saw Lloyd.

“Blondie, such a pleasant surprise,” I said and he chuckled.

“Still grounded?” He asked and I sighed and nodded. “Yup, and I am afraid my mom is contemplating to take my phone away for the weekend just to ‘teach me a lesson’ or something,” I complained and he chuckled.

“Shouldn’t have beaten up that kid,” he said and I rolled my eyes while grabbing the flower. “You sound like my dad,” I said and he let out a breathy laugh.

“You’re not busy, are you?” He asked and I gave him a look. “Lloyd, look around, does it look busy to you?” I asked and he looked at the empty tables, only one containing some empty mugs I hadn’t grabbed yet.

“Seems rather lonely,” he said, “I shall be nice and stay here for company,” he winked and I rolled my eyes and shook my head with a smile.

“Yeah, I work alone Thursdays, so some company would be nice,” I said as I mixed my patch of dough.

“Do you want a coffee?” I asked and he contemplated it for a moment. “Uh, yeah sure, why not.” He smiled and I abandoned my patch of dough.

“What do you like, then?” I asked. “A cappuccino would do,” he said and I gave him a look. “Basic,” I said jokingly and he let out an offended noice. “Mean,” he said and I stuck my tongue out.

I made the cappuccino and asked if he wanted anything with that. “Uh yeah, three sugars,” he said and my eyebrows raised. “Three?” I asked, grabbing them anyway.

“What can I say, I have one heck of a sweet tooth,” he said and I chuckled lightly. “Well here you go, sir,” I said and he took the coffee and looked at me with a smile.

“Thanks, miss,” he said and I chuckled softly before continuing to make my batch of cookies. “I suppose Kai will be teaching my self defence class again tomorrow?” I asked and he nodded.

“Correct, but I thought you weren’t allowed in self defence class anymore?” He asked confused.

He was right, after the fight I had gotten two days suspension and they said I couldn’t attend self defence class anymore because of my ‘aggressive behaviour’.

“Yes, but they thought about it and decided that they’d rather have me in class then roaming around the school,” I shrugged as I added the chocolate chips.

“How fun, now you may deal with Kai every week,” Lloyd sarcastically and I sent him a small smile as I started to roll the dough to small balls.

“You make it sound like it’s a horrible thing,” I said grinning and he just chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s because it is.” He told me.

“I’ll remember to tell him tomorrow,” I said and Lloyds eyebrows rose. “You’d betray me like that?” He acted fake hurt and I playfully rolled my eyes.

He stayed around for quite a while before he got a call and had to leave in a hurry, which I found rather strange, but I didn’t question it further.

When the cookies where done, I put most of display and held a few back, Ace loves these cookies and he let slip to me that his nanny loves them too, even though he had promised not to tell anyone.

His nanny was about my age, she was a nice girl and we got along great, though I didn’t see her that much.

Trough the day I got some customers, one of my favourite, Mr. Walters, who always stopped by for a caramel latte for his elderly wife who was battling cancer in the hospital. We always added a red velvet cupcake because it was her favourite, it was basically company policy.

“How has Lorrain been doing?” I asked as I poured the steamed milk in the large paper take away cup.

“Better actually, the dokters say there is a big chance she will manage to beat it this year,” he said and I could see tears of happiness in his eyes.

“That’s amazing! I really hope that will come true!” I said as I put the lid on the cup and handed that, plus a small paper bag containing the cupcake to the man, having paid before hand.

“Thank you, dear, I will see you next week,” he said taking the goods and walking out of the shop.

At the end of the day, I closed down, sweeping the floor and the tables, doing some last dishes and putting the remaining goods swatch putting some in a bag to take home.

I left a small not down good luck to my coworkers who started early the next day and then locked the door, to get home.

Kai POV:

I walked into the gym to teach my class when I noticed that Y/n was in my class. I huffed slightly, there was not much wrong about her, I just felt something off about her because of her stealing and getting herself into trouble.

I couldn’t help but listen in on her conversation she was having with her friend, who I know was named Luna as I had her last week aswel.

“Lu, you won’t believe this!” She said excitedly and I couldn’t help but break a small smile at her cheery behaviour. “What? What is it?” Luna asked her.

“So, Mr. Walters came into work yesterday, as always, you know what he told me?” She continued and Luna gave her an exasperated look. “Come onnn! Tell me!” She pushed.

“There is a big chance Lorrain will beat cancer before end of the year!” She jumped up and down and both girls cheered.

It kind of broke the ice to see her like that. Lloyd had told me about her work, and I thought it was nice she was so excited about what seemed to be a customer.

I shook my head slightly and started the class, deciding that maybe Y/n wasn’t so bad after all.

Yeah, she and her friends beat me in a chase after stealing from a store, but she was still nice- of course the reason I was wary of her wasn’t because she beat me in a chase…

Alright, it kind of was, but come on! I have years of training, and they have what? Skateboard stamina? If that’s even a thing.

Your POV:

I had been right, my mom did take away my phone for the weekend, which left me to sit in my room and mope all day.

I couldn’t talk to my friends, I wasn’t allowed to go out, I couldn’t text Lloyd, I wasn’t allowed to watch tv, dad was gone and forgot to leave me the key to the training room, so my day basically sucked.

At the moment, I was trying to create a partronus, like you see in Harry Potter, but then it was an illusion.

I could see my own illusions if I wanted to, thank the first spinjitzu master, but sometimes they where actually quite hard for me to do.

I had already managed to make a fox and was now trying a snake, when there was a knock on my door.

“Come in!” I called and the door opened, I was met with one of our staff members.

“Miss Y/n, dinners ready, your mother waits for you in the dining hall.” She said and I got of the bed. “Thank you, Nora.” I smiled and she gave me a kind smile back before leaving to get my brother while I went downstairs.

There, in the dining room, my mother sat, aswel as my younger sister.

I guess my mother read my facial features and sighed. “Don’t mope, Y/n, you know I had a good reason to ground you,” she said and I nodded.

“Yeah, I know,” this was gonna be a fun dinner… not.

It was spent with my mother slightly lecturing me about not causing trouble in school (again) and Ace was snickering the whole time, making her round on him.

Sure, my mother was strict, but she could be really sweet and caring when she wasn’t mad at anyone.

After dinner I excused myself and sat in my room, deciding to read a book instead of moping around.

Suddenly, while reading, there where taps on my window. I thought nothing of it and continued reading, but when it happened again I looked up.

I yelled when I saw someone sitting at the window and my hand quickly inched towards the knife laying on my bedside table, until I saw who it was.

I walked over and opened my window with an angry frown.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper shouted. The green ninja climbed trough my window and looked around.

“Your room is huge!” He said and I shushed him immediately. “It took a long while to find you, your house is way to big,” he said and I clenched my fists.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again and he looked at me for a moment. “Oh, yeah I didn’t see you in a while and started to worry, so I thought I’d visit you.” He shrugged and I smacked his shoulder.

“Are you mental?” I asked and he chuckled. “Only a bit,” he said and I groaned. “You can’t just show up at my house! What if my parents see you? What if one of the guards see you?” I hissed and he shrugged.

“I’m the green ninja, I’ll talk my way out,” he winked and I shook my head in disbelief. “You can’t just break into my house!” I said and he I could see by his eyes that he smirked.

“Technically,” he started, “I didn’t break in, you let me in,” he pointed out and I gave him an unamused look.

“Besides, don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me, sweetheart,” he said and I let out a small huff. “Who says I’m happy to see you?” I asked and he took a step closer.

“Your heartbeat does,” he said and I felt my face flush and my knees grew slightly weak. “There it goes again,” he teased and I pursed my lips.

“You can hear my heartbeat?” I asked and he nodded with a small smirk. “Yeah, super senses, it’s a family thing,” he shrugged.

“Yours is going rather fast,” he said tauntingly and I gulped slightly, trying my best to slow down my heartbeat.

“But enough about me, tell me about you,” he turned away from me and sat himself down in one of the chairs in my room. “Where have you been? Why haven’t I seen you around?” He asked me interested and I couldn’t help but grin.

“What? Have you missed me?” I asked and he let out a low chuckle. “Of course, why do you think I’m here?” He said, gesturing around the room.

I shook my head, slightly rolling my eyes and sat down in front of him on another chair.

“I’m grounded,” I revealed and I noticed by his eyes that his eyebrows rose. “Damn, Princess, what did you do? Got caught sneaking out?” He said and I shook my head no.

“I go into a fight at school,” I explained and he seemed a bit surprised, but something inside of me felt like his surprise was fake, as if he already knew.

“Tell me more,” he said, leaning forwards a bit and I narrowed my eyes a bit. “I don’t think I have to,” I said and he seemed actually surprised by that one. “I think you already know,” I said and he let out a deep chuckle.

“Aren’t you a sharp one?” He grinned. “Yeah, alright, you caught me. I already know, but I thought I’d hear from you what happened,” he said and I raised a brow.

“Why is that? Are you interrogating me and arresting me afterwards?” I asked, even though it was obviously a joke.

He just shook his head and kept eye contact with me, making me shift in my seat. “No, I just think you are really interesting, Y/n L/n,” he said making my heartbeat raise and he gave me a smug look as he knew, he heard.

“Why are you here? The actual reason this time,” I said narrowing my eyes at him and he shrugged. “Like I said, your interesting, there’s just something about you-” he got cut off as we both heard footsteps on the stairs

I held my breath, hoping they weren’t going for my room.

“Y/n, Honey!” Damn it!

I shot up and quickly dragged the green ninja by the arm, taking him to my walk in closet and pushing him inside.

“Stay here, don’t you make a peep,” I whispered and shut the door, just as my room door opened.

“Mum, hi!” I said with a bright smile and she narrowed her eyes slightly. “Hi,” she said and looked around the room as I walked over to my bed and sat down.

“What is it?” I asked and she looked at the window curiously. “Why is your window open?” She asked and I swallowed.

“I uh, I felt hot, I thought I’d open the window to let some cool air in,” I lied, why hadn’t I just shut the goddamn window?

“Are you sick?” My mum walked over already reaching out to put her hand on my forehead. “Mum- I’m fine, really,” I promised and she sighed as I dodged her hand.

“Alright, but if you get more symptoms I’m taking you to a doctor. I just sighed and nodded. Even with just the flue, mum just wanted me to a dokter, as always.

“Fine, why did you even come here?” I asked a bit annoyed and she crossed her arms. “Don’t get that tone with me, young lady,” she scolded. “I just came to tell you that we have a dinner party at the Chapman’s tomorrow.” She said and I couldn’t help but smirk.

That meant I got to see James! I hadn’t seen him since Thursday and it was killing me, as he is my best friend.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I said and crossed my legs on my bed. “Alright hunny, now get some sleep, you seem tired and I don’t want you to get sick.” She kissed the top of my head and left the room.

When I heard her footsteps reach the ground floor, I shot up and opened my closet door.

“Alright, you have to go,” I said and he gave me sad puppy dog eyes making me glare back. “Don’t you try that with me, I am still kicking you out,” I said and he just laughed and walked out of the closet and back towards the window while I followed him.

“Alright, but I’ll be seeing you again, Princess,” he said, before winking and jumping out of the window.

[bigmanroykent]

some royjamie fic & podfic recs

i've been trying to make my Grand Return to Reading Fics for months because i miss royjamie so much and i have so many fics marked for later that it makes me cry but turns out. i'm not doing so well reading from a screen these days and only manage physical and audio books which makes reading fic a bit more challenging. so this isn't the huge spreadsheet with recs i had prepared in hopes of sharing it but here are the few i did manage to put there these last few months (with a special thank you to podficcers as well!!), please enjoy them too if you haven't read them yet:

from the mouths of babes by Dyece - Phoebe says something devastatingly insightful, and Roy has a minor Feeling about it.

as weak as a violet by tooshyforthis - After Keeley shuts the door in your face, you stumble your way to the place you call church. Jamie follows you. Always does. When you stumble your way to bed, he follows you there too.

Can't Start A Fire Without A Spark by Blackmustache - Things are changing at Man City and somebody needs to convince Jamie to come home.

i don't know what it is but i got that feeling by aisjustrunning - Jamie has been invited to a party (?) and now he has to buy a present for Roy Fucking Kent.

What you'd do to me tonight by fangrrlsing - “Vanilla vodka.” He shakes his head and Jamie is frozen under his eyes. “Such a child.” There is a gasp stuck in his throat, a protest. It hurts even though it shouldn’t. What should he care what a washed-up has-been thinks about him? Except this is Roy fucking Kent.

Their Love Was There by things_renew_themselves - Jamie and Roy hang out after the bonfire. Shit gets real.

everything by swimmingfox. I'm not kidding, their writing is wonderful and their podfics have been a lifesaver and I already have them linked because I was preparing a podfic rec post before I remembered that I had some other fics ready in my spreadsheet:

A Windmill In Old Amsterdam - Extra scenes from Roy and Jamie's night-time bike ride. Soft and sweet. Four in the Morning & Babe - Starting from S3E4, but then going off on its own. First Time - Jamie and Roy talk about Jamie's experience with his dad in Amsterdam. Jamie has a panic attack, and Roy is there to help. The Death of James Tartt - Jamie arrives on Roy's doorstep with the news that his dad is dead. Roy helps him through the first day and starts to realise his feelings for Jamie have changed. Sweetness prevails! Date - Jamie asks Roy out to dinner. It's nothing special. Honest. Or: Roy finds himself accidentally on a date with Jamie Tartt. Set post-S03! Brazil or, Shag Marry Avoid - Jamie invites Roy to Brazil, and incredibly Roy agrees. Jamie keeps getting erections. They're very much about Roy. Smug Fucking Prick - Jamie and Roy don't go for a kebab after their fight. Instead, Roy turns up at four the next morning, as they've got one more training session. Jamie is not having it. A Cute Little Roy of Pitch Black - Jamie gives Roy another one of his very thoughtful presents for Christmas. It's more of a hint than the last one. Shameless Christmas fluff! roy who by armadillo1976 / original - “Never heard of Roy Kent?” Jamie’s nose scrunches up.

strong (and capable) like an elephant by jedusaur (podfic by Silverkat1620)

it’s a long walk home by antspaul, swordguy - “If there’s a big man coaching Richmond…” Roy gestures broadly—as insultingly broad as he can. “I haven’t seen him.”

Jamie looks unimpressed. Like he’d been waiting to be hurt but expected more. Looks fucking disappointed. Roy’s not done.

“All I see is a little boy, barely two years into a job he thinks he deserves because he’s got the loudest mouth in the room. With a cheap win under his belt because he probably got on his knees for the referee.”

first, violent love by liesmyth - “What, you think you’re the first young prick who’s come round begging for a fuck? I told you, Tartt. You’re not half as special as you think you are.” - All the lads are cursed to speak their minds. Jamie and Roy fuck about it.

Scentr by PGHumfort - Freshly retired, single, and a little lonely, Roy Kent, who hid his omega status throughout his entire career, lets Keeley talk him into trying out the new, exclusive, anonymous dating service for the rich and famous she’s doing PR for. The twist? It’s purely scent-based with the idea that the body will intrinsically know a good mate on smell alone. You’ll never guess who smells the best to Roy!

[jamiesfootball]

Augusnippets Day 11

Prompt: breaking the conditioning

cw: past emotional/psychological abuse and manipulation, overworking, control issues, diet control

Summary:

Life after Zava. During a workout with Roy, Jamie struggles to keep count.

Follows after this one

Here on AO3

After thirty-five reps, Roy tells him, “You don’t have to count out loud.”

Jamie stiffens, his arms fully outstretched as he holds up the weight bar. Roy’s palms are out, ready to catch if Jamie drops it, but he doesn’t dare take the bar away from him – not after the last time he doubted Jamie.

“What?” His arms begin to shake, and he adjusts his grip. It’s a heavy load.

“You count your sets out loud,” explains Roy in that low, growly voice that Ted advised him to think of as patient. Coach sure doesn’t look patient. “I don’t need you to count them out for me. I trust you to do the amount I tell you to do.”

Icy uncertainty runs through his veins. It’s not like he hasn’t noticed that he’s the only one who counts out his sets in the weight room during training. The rest of the team, they mostly chat or listen to music, but Jamie had assumed that was ‘cause he was better than they were, more serious where they preferred to slack off under the weak demands of an inexacting coach.

Never occurred to him it might be a rule.

“Sorry,” Jamie says automatically. His face burns. Hopefully the flush of exertion hides it; after all, the weight is really heavy. “I’ll- yeah. In my head from now on, Coach. Please?”

The ‘please’ adds itself on out of habit. Even Jamie doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but Roy must figure it out. After a moment of staring at Jamie with dark, intense eyes, he nods at the bar, a clear gesture to get on with it then.

Jamie gets on with it, this time sure to keep the counting in his head. He reaches forty, nods to Roy, and Roy tacks on the next set of weights. Too easy.

Jamie resumes pressing, all the numbers shut up behind his teeth where they can’t get on anyone’s nerves. He focuses on his form. Good form is paramount, otherwise he risks rendering the exercise useless.

….five….six….seven….eight….eight….eight….

Fuck. No, wait.

Jamie tries to replay the count. The numbers smear together in his head.

He realises belatedly that he’s stopped mid-press. Perched above him, Roy cocks his head like a vulture, waiting to descend at the first sign of weakness.

Jamie keeps going.

He still doesn’t understand why it has to be Roy who trains him – even Zava had trusted Jamie to do whatever the personal trainers told him to do after the first six months. But ever since Jamie’s knee gave up that one time, the man’s insisted on following Jamie to every appointment he has with a trainer or physio. Mental behaviour, the kind Jamie should definitely put a stop to. And he would, if it didn’t take his mind off the yawning abyss growing in his head every time he goes home to his empty flat and remembers that this is it for him now. His own fucking life, with no steel-fisted grip to guide him.

His heart clenches. What fucking number is he on?

He remembers getting to nine. He’ll add five. Add five to nine, and do five extra at the end, and if Roy asks, he’ll lie and tell him that he felt like it. That the training regime at Richmond is shit, and that Jamie expects a real challenge, the kind where you can’t even lift your arms when you’re done. That’s what Jamie deserves. Jamie is better than this.

He picks up at fourteen and keeps going.

At twenty-three, he feels like he’s already done twenty-three so that can’t be right. At twenty-eight, he gets distracted by how similar threes and eights look when he draws them in his head, and at forty-three, he can’t figure out if he skipped thirty-three or just thought about it too hard, so he goes back and does it again.

A memory rises unbidden: those first few months of rehab under Zava’s care, one of the few times he drove the man past any reasonable level of frustration. Too distracted. Unfocused. No more music at the gym, until Jamie learned to be present in the here and now. Until he learned to appreciate the opportunity he’d been chosen for.

Equally unbidden, Roy’s face the week before last when Jamie had used the word ‘unbidden’ in a sentence. How his mouth had curdled at the corner and how his brows drew together. The way he’d sneered, exasperated, “Do you actually talk like that?”

Then Beard, almost equally mocking, when Jamie had flubbed the word ‘philistine’: “You’re gonna want to look that one up.”

Then Ted, frowning and unhappy in a way that Jamie couldn’t grasp, when Jamie refused his book recommendation because he’d already read Fitzgerald before, it’d been on the improving books list Christina made for him a few years prior. Was fine with him if Ted had any other books he wanted to recommend, but his list at home was pretty long, so he’d probably need to let Jamie know if he had a deadline.

He didn’t tell Ted that the list was years old by now. That Zava had grown disillusioned with him once he realised how slow Jamie took to anything off the pitch.

Ted had given him a disappointed smile like he’d heard it all the same. “Maybe what we need is a different approach.”

He still hadn’t given Jamie a different book.

With a start, Jamie realises that he’s forgotten to count at all. Daggers have etched their way into the stone of Roy’s face. All sense briefly flees Jamie’s mind, and he finds himself sacrificing his picture-perfect form for the sake of doing the last twenty reps as fast as he can just so he can be free of that hard look.

By the time he gasps, “Stop,” his eyes sting with frustration. Roy grunts as he lifts the barbell free from Jamie’s sore hands. With an apocalyptic expression on his face, he drops the bar onto the rack with a heavy clang.

Neither of them say anything. Roy, because fuck if Jamie knows why; and Jamie, because he knows without having to be told how shit that was. 

It isn’t his turn to talk.

He inhales sharply through his nose, trying to downplay his nervousness, which feels as transparent as the windowpane to the coaches’ office that separates them from Ted. His tender hands ball into fists, and Jamie resists the impulse to speak out of turn, to bite first and draw blood before Roy takes a swing at him, to shout for help instead of accepting whatever discipline is given to him.

He knows in his nature to argue – Zava always said so – and since day one, emotional regulation has been his biggest weakness. Too willing to snap back, too sensitive when it came to petty slights, too willing to egg on his opponents instead of focusing on the ball, too abrasive, too loud, too needy, too much too much too much. Despite Zava’s best efforts, he could never quite break Jamie of his defects. Maybe that’s why he finally threw in the towel. He could see the front Jamie put up for the sham it was. Could see the ugly acid boiling inside. Could see the Tartt lurking under the surface, the shadow of his father tattooed under his skin.

In the seven years since he’s seen his father, Jamie’s failed to cleanse himself of the flaws he inherited when the only brand he should carry was Zava’s. 

He doesn’t even have that anymore.

Jamie needs to do better. Without Zava, Richmond’s all he’s got left.

With his shirt sweat through, he feels glued to the bench. So he stays there. He doesn’t sit up. He doesn’t push himself into Roy’s face. He doesn’t argue. He keeps his expression blank and he tries to draw up a ‘non-confrontational aura’ and he readies himself for Roy to bring the hammer down.

“Right,” says Roy gruffly. He won’t look Jamie in the eye. “We’re done for today. Go hit the showers.”

Jamie stares at him. The fight disappears out of his chest in a puff of smoke, like someone’s gone and blown out the match.

It takes Roy tapping him on the shoulder for Jamie to sit up. Then Roy tugs at his arm until Jamie’s on his feet. Then he starts towelling off the bench and setting the weights back into place.

That’s Jamie’s job, and the sight of someone, of his coach, of Roy Kent doing his job makes his breathing go ragged. Makes him feel lightheaded and unsteady on his feet. He’s not sure if mentioning it is something that could be construed as arguing – just the thought has him rocking back on his heels, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the tattoo on his arm.

When he feels like he might actually die if he doesn’t say something, he snaps with more force than he means to, “That’s it?”

Roy doesn’t mention his tone. He raises an eyebrow and asks cooly, “What, that isn’t enough?”

Aren’t you gonna tell me where I fucked up? Criticise me for letting my mind wander and losing count? Tell me what I’m supposed to do next, because training might be over but if I want to be better, I need to stay late. Where’s the extra sets? How bad did I do? How late do I need to stay before I can eat dinner?

Quit playing mind games and tell me what to do next.

But that’s not the right response, not with Roy. Until he figures out what his coach is looking for, Jamie bites his tongue and doesn’t say anything.

When Jamie stands for too long with his teeth grit together tight, Roy gives him an assessing look and just. Nods.

“Hit the showers,” he repeats, gentle in a way that makes Jamie want to scream.

After Roy leaves the weight room, Jamie waits another minute to see if it’s a test. After standing there for five minutes, he figures he’s running the risk of disobedience by not listening to that last command, and he hustles to the showers.

Cold showers are best for athletes, and if he’s supposed to do something different, then someone will tell him.

Roy’s never told him otherwise, so the shower stays cold.

The shower is always cold. 

He’s used to it.

[peppermintquartz]

The newcomers here at Harbor generally are decent people who want to work with aircraft, and Tommy gets along with most of them.

Today, however, brings a challenge in the shape of two broad-shouldered kids - 28 years old Zed Ryder and Jamie Hughes, the two of them cousins, recently transferred in from 124 to replace Starr and Kelley, who've moved to Wisconsin to be with Kelley's family.

Tommy's been tasked to walk the cousins through maintenance procedures and then take them up in the chopper for a round. The lesson was going alright until around eleven, when a familiar Jeep pulls into Harbor and Evan hops out.

"Tommy!" Evan calls out. "You forgot lunch."

Tommy's always happy to see Evan, and happier to grab the dish of chilli Evan made for Tommy's colleagues. When he gets to Evan, he can't resist planting a kiss on his boyfriend for being thoughtful and sweet.

"See you at home," Evan says, beaming.

Tommy hands the chilli to Mavis, and jogs back to Zed and Jamie, whose expressions have shifted slightly to something other than attentiveness.

"That your boyfriend?" Jamie asks bluntly.

Tommy nods. "Yeah. Come on, I still have to go over the storage on the air ambulance before we can eat."

Jamie and Zed glance at each other. They say nothing, but trail after Tommy. Tommy can't shake the feeling that he isn't seen the way he was before Evan arrived, but that's alright. He's not here to change everyone's attitudes. He's here to make sure these newcomers know what to do and how to get it done properly.

It's only at lunch that everything blows up, and it really isn't Tommy's fault.

Tommy's having his lunch with Melton and Lucy, and Captain Davids joined them. They start to talk about rosters for the wildfire season and Tommy is dreading leaving Evan for weeks; Lucy notices and teases him about it.

Jamie and Zed are in the corner with the other younger firefighters, and then there's a shouted challenge. Next thing the senior firefighters know, the newbies are about to get in a brawl with McCartney.

"What the hell is going on?" Captain Davids roars, her diminutive frame hiding a powerful set of lungs. "Syahid, what happened?"

Syahid, all six-foot-three of him standing to attention, glances at Tommy and says, "Um."

"Details!"

"Ryder said... He said something rude about Kinard."

Tommy is surprised. "Me? What?"

Syahid flushes.

In an instant Tommy understands. "Mac. What did he say? It's okay, tell us."

"That motherfucker - sorry cap - that asshole was saying he wouldn't have transferred if he knew he had to learn to fly from a fag," McCartney spits out, his eyes glaring daggers at Zed Ryder. "He doesn't know how fucking lucky - sorry captain - how bloody lucky he is to get one of the best in the state to teach him!"

"The hell?" Lucy almost starts forward, but Tommy holds her elbow and shakes his head. She subsides but it's clear her fury is barely being checked.

Davids looks at Tommy, and then at Zed and Jamie. "Firefighter Hughes. You agree with Firefighter Ryder?"

Jamie stands to attention. His eyes look around, taking in the various expressions. He shakes his head.

"Pissant," Zed snarls at his cousin.

"Shut up," Jamie hisses at him.

"Better to be a great homosexual pilot than a bigoted failure of a man," says Captain Davids. "Your transfer will be rejected."

"You can't do that!"

"I can reject your transfer and you go back to your old house, or I can fire you for insubordination. Your choice." Captain Davids steps in front of Tommy to stare Zed down. "It's 2024. Grow past that hateful bullshit already. Pack up and go home. Melton, escort him off the station."

"Yes captain." Melton salutes. He's not too friendly when he goes to Zed and jerks his head. "Go on, you heard Captain Davids."

As Zed stalks away, the captain says, "Alright, finish up lunch. You're the man back for this shift, Mac, and boots. Fighting is not condoned."

"Yes, captain. Sorry captain." McCartney doesn't look apologetic though. He grins at Tommy and winks.

Davids goes back to her seat. "Kinard, Donato. Come on, we were talking about rosters."

Tommy has to swallow down a lump in his throat. His house isn't a family like the 118, but they had his back. He smiles at McCartney and Syahid, then sits back down. He'll help McCartney with the boots later after taking Jamie up in the air.