#Little Green Richmond Green

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors Do Not Interact, No physical description of OC other than her being black, Spanking, D/S Dynamics, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), Bratty!OC, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, a tiny bit of Degradation Kink, No P in V, Slight Angst

A/N: Divider by fireflygraphics. Special shoutout to @megamindsecretlair who inspired me to write something for the first time in too long. Thank you!

Riley was the picture-perfect Southern belle. With a preacher for a father and a teacher for a mother, she always kept up her manners in public. But behind closed doors, she had a talent for getting into trouble—and her relationship with Terry Richmond was no different.

He was her very own Black G.I. Joe—six feet, four inches of solid muscle. Intense, stormy green eyes and the face of an Adonis. A flawless specimen—and completely hers.

That morning, she woke up with a familiar ache in her belly. Terry had been gone the entire week to celebrate his cousin Mike’s homecoming, while she stayed behind due to a special work project. It had been seven long days without so much as a touch from the man who couldn’t keep his hands off her whenever they were alone.

He'd returned late Saturday, slipping into bed quietly to avoid waking her.

It was Sunday morning, and as the preacher’s daughter, she knew she had to be at her best. But sleep had eluded her. The rollers she wore to sleep were uncomfortable, and she never slept well when Terry wasn’t there. She woke up feeling restless, only to turn over and see him.

He was bare-chested, the morning light making his skin glisten. The bedsheets were pushed down to his hips, and the outline of his body was impossible to ignore. Her mouth watered.

When her gaze finally made its way up to his face, his eyes were already on her. Terry was always up by six, but some days, he'd stay in bed a little longer just for her.

She kissed her way up his body, starting from his neck and working toward his lips, straddling him.

“Mornin’, baby,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly, making her heart flutter. His green eyes framed by naturally long lashes—lashes she spent a hundred dollars a month trying to replicate—fixed on hers. He pulled her down for a tight hug, his lips finding her jaw. She sighed, feeling his strength encase her. 

“What time did you get in? I missed you,” she admitted, feeling a little foolish. She was a grown woman, had spent most of her adult life without him, but sometimes it felt like she couldn’t breathe without him there.

His facial hair, grown in during the week they’d been apart, tickled her skin as he nuzzled into her neck—a silent way of saying, "I missed you too."

They lay there for a few moments before he stirred. One arm wrapped around her back, the other reaching for his phone on the nightstand. “We gotta get up. It’s almost eight.”

She groaned. “It’s too early.”

She was up before sunrise on workdays, but weekends were different.

“Come on, we have to.” He patted her back gently.

“Excuse you…” She sat up, crossing her arms with her legs still draped over his hips. “You just got back and you're bossing me around. You haven’t even kissed me yet.”

He wouldn’t admit it, but he loved how spoiled she could act sometimes. She knew he’d give her the world if she asked, and it boosted his ego to know she trusted him that much—knew, deep down, he would always protect and care for her.

“Oh, you think you’re running the show now?” he teased, raising a brow. She bit her lip, debating how to respond. Terry Richmond wasn’t the type of man to play petty games with, but she liked to do it every now and then, just to keep things interesting.

“Duh. I thought you knew.”

He let out a deep laugh from his core, right in her face. She huffed and tried to move away from his lap, but in an instant, he had rolled them over, pinning her beneath him as they both giggled.

“Who gave you command?”

His hand wrapped gently around her neck, and the playful moment turned serious. He positioned himself between her legs, morning wood pressed against her thigh, and her face flushed.

“You did.” She swallowed hard, remembering the last time they were in this position—his hand firm around her throat as he took control. The unspoken command hung in the air: tell me what I want to hear, and I’ll give you what you want.

He raised an eyebrow, “Me?”

“Yeah,” She smirked, “You disappeared so I had to improvise.” Her voice softened, teasing but with a warmth that hinted she missed him. “Maybe don’t leave me hanging next time, huh?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, then his lips crushed against hers, the kiss demanding, until her thoughts were consumed by him and only him. Her back arched, hips shifting as she sought him out. His hand found her neck again as he slowly pulled away, as if it pained him to stop.

“We gotta get up. I let you miss another Sunday, and your dad will never let me live it down.”

His sudden shift in tone made her scowl, especially as he tapped her legs to free himself from her grip. “Why are you talking about my father right now?���

“Get up.” His tone tolerated no dissent, and she reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet.

She followed him into the guest bathroom, where he'd gone to shower in peace. She dragged her soapy hands down his back, teasing him, offering to help him dry off but using it as an excuse to grope him instead. He wouldn’t give in. She spent the rest of the morning testing his resolve, brushing against him as he scrambled their eggs, and bending at the waist to give him a peek under her slip after "accidentally" dropping the house keys.

By the time they reached the church parking lot, a frown lingered on her made-up face, fading only as they approached the church doors, where she transformed into the picture-perfect preacher’s daughter.

Smiling, saying all the right things, all the while thinking about Terry. It wasn’t right, thinking these things in church, but she couldn’t help it. She prayed for forgiveness but couldn’t stop herself from reminiscing about him—the way he drove her to the brink of madness, how good he always made her feel. 

The singing of hymns and the preaching faded into the background as she focused on the analog clock hanging above the pulpit. Church seemed to drag on even longer than usual, as if the universe were conspiring with Terry to tease her to death. He sat there, as tempting as the devil, his button-up shirt clinging to his muscular arms and thick thighs defined even in slacks.

By the time they reached the car, she felt like she was on the verge of catching fire. She’d waved hurriedly at her parents before dragging Terry out the church doors, complaining about the traffic. She was sure her mom would call her and fuss about it later, but she’d deal with that when the time came. He didn’t say a word until they were driving down the main road, his eyes glancing over at her.

“You’ve been acting wild all day. You that desperate for my dick?”

“What?” 

“You heard me. You want it that bad?” He repeated himself, a sly smirk playing on his lips. Her mouth hung open as she processed his words. In the bedroom, he was her Daddy—dominant, demanding, intense. A bit of a bedroom bully, but never harsh. She was his princess, and he treated her like one. Terry didn’t usually talk to her like this, but she couldn’t deny the heat that pooled between her legs at his words.

She wished she had something clever to say, but the truth was that her desire for him ran deeper than he could ever realize. “I can’t help it,” she admitted, leaning over the center console to caress his leg. She gave him those Bambi eyes and spoke softly. “I need you, baby.” 

“I get it. I've been counting down the days too,” He promised. His voice was steady and calm—too calm—while she felt like she was on the edge. He had unbuttoned the top of his shirt when they got in the car, and all she could think about was undoing the rest. The way the water had cascaded down his chest this morning was sinful. Her thighs clenched together subconsciously. 

“I need more than just talk right now,” She grumbled, remembering how he had rejected her earlier that morning. She’d wanted him so badly that she dropped to her knees, promising to make it worth his while. But he remained composed, pulling her back up for a soft kiss on the corners of her mouth. “Later,” he had promised.

All week, she had struggled to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed with him. And now that he was back, he didn’t seem in any hurry to change that. He should have woken her up last night, church be damned— The same way he did any other night he wanted to be inside her. Her hand inched up to his thigh and squeezed.

When her fingertips grazed his dick, he gently grabbed her hand and lifted it from his lap. “Relax,” he warned, his voice adopting that stern tone she usually loved. But now, it just grated on her nerves. Terry Richmond—who was always so eager—was telling her to relax about sex. How many mornings had he insisted on having her before he left for work? How many days had he stalked her around the house, grabbing her any way he wanted? How many nights had he promised to “do all the work” if she just let him inside?  

She kissed her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest, glaring out at the cars ahead. He was full of it.

“What’s this? You got an attitude now?”

She snapped before she could stop herself. “What do you think, Terry?” Aggravation burned in her chest, and his eyes widened at her tone. Apparently, his week away had been too long—she had lost her damn mind. 

“Any other time, you can’t get enough of me, and now you’re acting like I’ve got the cooties. What’s going on with you?”

“What are you trying to get at?” he asked, sounding annoyed, and it was clear on his face. She stared back at him as his gaze flicked between her and the road, as if her eyes could uncover whether he had been faithful. She trusted Terry, but she already knew Mike’s wild ass had plenty of strippers and trouble around. 

What else was she supposed to think? Terry was only a man after all. 

“For real?” he replied, meeting her suspicious gaze. “You think I’d do you like that?” 

Her stomach flipped. In her heart, she felt one thing, but her head was a different monster altogether. She had a tendency to overthink and jump to conclusions. Terry usually made her feel so secure that it wasn’t an issue. “So, just because I’m not moving fast enough for you, I must be cheating, huh?” He looked at her like a wounded lion.

“I don’t know, Terry,” she shifted her gaze away from him, knowing she had overreacted. “I’m just frustrated, okay?” The silence that fell between them felt heavy. She knew she had made a mistake. “I’m sorry,” she added, her voice softening. “I know you’re not like that; I was just... I don’t know.”

Just like Muni Long, she wished for a Time Machine.

The sting of her accusation settled in his gut. He couldn’t begin to understand why she would doubt him after everything they’d been through.

Terry remained silent for the rest of the ride. Not even when he parked the car, opened her passenger door, and unlocked the house did he say a word. He let her in first, just like always, but the usual kisses to her neck were absent. Instead, he slipped off to the guest room to change while she undressed in their shared bedroom, feeling like a brat. The pretty polka dot dress and brand new stockings he should have been removing only added to her sadness.

She removed her makeup in a somber mood, then finally made her way to the living room when she could no longer put it off. Terry had changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sprawled across the couch while fiddling with the remote, flipping through channels she knew he wasn’t interested in at all.

She settled onto his lap, her thighs gripping him to keep him close. He avoided her gaze until she cupped his face in her hands, gently forcing him to meet her eyes. There was a storm brewing, one that she had caused. “Don’t be like that,” she pleaded.

She rested her head against his broad chest, cuddling into the warmth beneath her. With her chin snuggled comfortably, she gazed up into his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was wrong– so wrong. I know who you are and that you wouldn’t hurt me. Please forgive me. I was trippin’.”

He took a deep breath and ran a hand across his low fade, trying to process his emotions. “You really scared me with that.” He grabbed her hand and held it tightly. “I need you to understand that it’s not easy for me to shake off what you said. I love you, but I need to know you trust me.”

“I do. I promise I do, baby. I just lost my head for a minute there. You mean everything to me.”

“Okay,” he conceded after a minute, “Just keep your head in the game, alright? Stick with me. We’re good.” Terry’s habit of framing their relationship in sports terms never failed to make her smile.

"You got it, coach," she teased, then added playfully, "Oh wait—Sir, yes sir," as she offered a mock salute.

“You always know just how to push my buttons, don’t you?”, he asked. “That’s alright, though, because you’re still under my command, recruit.” He delivered a series of sharp smacks to her behind without warning. Riley gasped as she felt the sting of each slap. 

"Terry, stop," she protested, trying to push him away, but he was unyielding.

“Nah, baby,” he whispered against her lips, staring her directly in the eyes, “You got a little too bold and need a reminder of who’s running things.”

Her stomach flipped as she realized what was happening. She had been getting more mouthy as the day went on, testing how far she could go. Now it was time for Terry to put her in her place, and while that was always fun, she knew he wouldn’t go easy on her.

As if reading her mind, Terry pulled back slightly, his gaze fierce and focused. "You know I love you, baby," he uttered softly. “But sometimes, a firm hand is needed to keep us in line.”

She nodded, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. A spanking hadn’t been a part of her agenda for the day. All she wanted was to come home, have him in their bed,  and make up for lost time, then pretend to watch TV for a little before she rode him to oblivion. But she had ruined that by being impatient. She knew that Terry was right – she had crossed a line today, and this was exactly what she needed.

Taking a deep breath, she eased into him, allowing him to maneuver her over his lap as he repositioned them on the couch. The muted sounds of the TV faded into the background as they got comfortable, her shorts rustling quietly as he pulled them down to her ankles. 

“I get that you’re used to having things your way, but that ain't how it works with me,” Terry advised, palming her ass cheeks in each hand. He took his time jiggling the fat there before his hand came down on one side and then the other. Terry was heavy handed, making sure she felt him deep in her soul. She hissed, already reaching back to cover her bottom. 

"Gimme your hands," he ordered, locking both of them in one of his own.

Terry started spanking her in earnest, and Riley felt every bit of it— the sharp sting as his hand met her skin, the heat radiating across her backside, and the firm pressure of his arms keeping her steady. 

“I’m so sorry,” She whined, squirming in his lap. “I didn't mean it!” He took a breath, grabbed her chin, and locked his gaze on her to make sure she heard him loud and clear. “I know you didn’t plan for this, but you still deserve this punishment. You gotta do better, ma.”

He went back to smacking her ass all wild, hitting it from every possible angle. “Fuck!” She cursed, getting lost in the pain and the pleasure. If the folks at church knew she had a mouth like this, she'd be too embarrassed to show her face again. With each smack, her thoughts become increasingly scrambled, swirling in a delicious haze. It didn’t help that Terry was talking her through it the entire time. 

“Remember I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You need to find some middle ground before you take things to the next level. You understand me?”

“Stay exactly like that, don’t move.”

“I know it hurts. It’s supposed to.”

“Here, grab this pillow.”

She moaned and groaned her protests but Terry was too strong and she had earned this ass whooping. She knew there was nothing left to do but surrender. Terry had her and she could let go of all her worries and concerns. She just needed to ride it out. 

As the spanking continued, Riley’s breathing grew more ragged until she was breathless. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. She apologized fervently each time his hand came down on her ass, sobbing when he gave her a small reprieve, rubbing her lower back gently. “You’re okay. We’re almost done. Are you really as sorry as you’re claiming?”

“Yes, Daddy,” She whimpered, already imagining how sore she’d be the next day, hobbling into her good government job with a bruised backside. She had bit off way more than she could chew and now needed his mercy.

“Repeat after me,” Terry commanded, his tone leaving room for argument. “Say ‘I’ll be a good girl and listen.’” She immediately complied, her voice shaky but sincere as she echoed his words, fully embracing the promise behind them. “I understand that the next time I do it, Daddy is going to spank my disobedient ass all over again..” She repeated his words like a well-trained parrot, and at the moment, it was all she could manage.

She felt lightheaded by the time Terry finished spanking her, and she couldn’t recall the last thing he’d said. She had hit her breaking point.  

She laid there for several minutes, completely spaced out, and focused only on catching her breath. Terry massaged her scalp with his fingertips as they both came down from the natural high of their chemistry. Eventually, Terry lifted her up to meet his gaze, being mindful not to agitate her already bruised bottom.

“You good?” 

Her head was still reeling. She wanted to shrink into a little ball, but she also wanted to live in his skin. How could she express that to him without sounding unhinged? Terry massaged her back in gentle, calming circles until he sensed her start to unravel. She eventually nodded slowly, acknowledging that yes, she was okay— physically at least, even if her emotions were still in a disarray. 

“I’ll do better,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper, thick with exhaustion.

"That’s my good girl," he said, gently wiping away tears from her cheekbone as his expression softened. Despite what she might think, he didn’t get as much satisfaction from spanking her as she believed. It was just something he had to do.

“Come on, pretty. I’ll fill the tub up for you, and then we can order brunch from your favorite spot.”

Forgive me for any mistakes. I had to post this before I lost my nerve, lol. This started as something completely different but I'm happy with how it turned out. Let me know what you think! For more Terry Richmond fics by other amazing young ladies, please check out my Terry Richmond fic rec tag.

[its-time-to-write]

three times ‘cause i’ve waited my whole life

I am apparently incapable of writing anything short. This has no plot. I think the only warnings are like swearing and innuendo. It is literally just Jamie and the reader being in love. I cannot stress enough how little plot this has. Enjoy.

three times ‘cause I’ve waited my whole life It’s one of Richmond’s biggest games. They’re facing Man City on their turf, an away game, and it’s a big deal.

It’s not important in that it really matters to their status in the premier league, but important because it’s Man City. Jamie has thrown himself completely into training, so you rarely see him except to eat dinner and then fall asleep, his arms around your waist as you watch tv, fingers combing through his hair. He’s awake before you are, but as soon as you hear him switch on the bathroom light, you make your way downstairs to make him breakfast. The team nutritionist had a strict diet for him, one modified by Roy to account for all the extra training. You rub sleep from your eyes as you brew a pot of tea, waiting for Jamie to come downstairs.

Arms snake around you as you wait at the stove for the tea.“You don’t have to do this,” Jamie says, kissing your neck. You smile and reach back to him.

“I know,” you reply, “It’s just the only time I really get to see you.”

Jamie pulls away and turns you around. You see that he’s frowning.

“I haven’t been a good boyfriend recently, have I?” he asks.

You smile, lacing your arms around his neck. “Jamie. This is just a part of life. You have a big game, you disappear for a while, I miss you and I adjust. You finish, win or lose, and we’re back. I knew what I was signing up for.”

He puts his hands on your wrists. “Yeah, but, like, we’re supposed to be talking to each other and shit. And I’m so tired all the time that I can’t think of anything to say. I also’ve been a shit listener. Can’t even remember what we talked about yesterday.”

You sigh, move his hands back to your waist, and then reach up to smooth the furrow in his brow.

“Remember when I had all that extra work last month and ended up working 60 hours a week because of everything that had to be done? I was up late every night, and all you did was bring me food and kiss me, then you left me alone. I think the longest we were together was when you let me sit with my legs on your lap for two hours. I didn’t hear you complaining.”

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off: “Jamie. It’s just life right now. It’s not forever. It’s ok.”

He looks like he has more to say, but is interrupted by the kettle whistling. You give him a quick kiss and then point to his breakfast on the counter. You sit on the kitchen island while he eats, with your head on his shoulder until Roy comes.

—

Here’s the thing; no one knows you and Jamie are together. Sure, Roy knows. But Jamie loves Roy. Keeley knows. But Jamie said you’d love Keeley. (You did). Ted and Beard know, but only because they saw you two walking around the Richmond green late, late at night. (What they were doing on the Richmond green that late is beyond you, but hey). It wasn’t long after that that Jamie put a picture of you two up in his locker, so then all of AFC Richmond knew. But you weren’t public public. You had yet to show up in a tabloid or be seen with Jamie at a game or public event. You went to his games, absolutely, but you stayed in the stands, not the box.

He always got you a spot as close to the field as possible, but you would always meet up with Keeley and Rebecca after games to rendezvous somewhere else later. 

You don’t mind. It doesn’t feel like Jamie is ashamed of you, especially because the people he cares about know. But you also know that you can handle it, and if he wants to go public and kiss you in the stands after a win, you would be ok with that. (You might be more than ok with that).

But as it is, no one knows about you. He knows where you stand on it, so the ball’s in his court. It’s been a year of this, but you just wonder how long it’s going to last.

—

Finally, finally it’s the week of the game. You had been staying in Manchester with Jamie’s mum, which was absolutely terrifying at first. It was not your first time meeting her, just your first time staying with her without Jamie present. You left a day before the team, so when they arrived Jamie sneaked away to come visit. You are sitting in comfortable silence on his mum’s porch looking up at the night sky, when he turns to you and says, “do you love me?”

You’re taken a little aback. “What kind of question is that?” you say. “Of course I love you.”

Jamie’s forehead is all scrunched up again, like it was that early morning. “What if I fucked my leg so badly I could never play football again?”

You laugh. “Not sure if you’ve noticed babe, but I’m not really a big football person. I’m more of a you person, so I guess there’s some overlap.”

Jamie is still weirdly nervous. “What if I play football till I’m forty, and you barely see me like it’s been? What if I’m always on the road and always training and all we get are dinners and shitty 3am breakfasts?”

He’s removed his arm from your shoulders at this point and you shiver, puffing out a breath into the cold air. He notices without saying a word and drapes his jacket around you.

“Jamie,” you reply slowly, trying to formulate your thoughts, “where is this all coming from? You know I love you. We’ve been together for a year, and this has never been an issue before.” As you’re speaking, you’re seized by a sudden, terrible thought: “Are you breaking up with me?”

The words tumble out so fast, you’re not sure he hears you until he’s looking at you, aghast. 

“No, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” you reply. “But you’re acting all weird, and we’ve been together for an entire year and that’s the longest you’ve dated anyone and I just thought that maybe this was your way of letting me know gently that you’re over me.”

Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest.

Jamie breathes out a sigh of relief. “Oh. No. I’m not ending things. I want to be with you forever. I just get all freaked out in me head before games like this, and it’s been fuckin weird coming home, and I just want to win, you know, so that way all this time away is worth it.” He pulls you close to him again and you can feel his heartbeat slowing down to a normal pace, in sync with your own. 

You sit there till his mum comes out to remind him that it’s time to go get some rest, and it’s not until you’re half asleep in Jamie’s childhood bed that your mind replays his words:

I want to be with you forever.

—

It’s game day. You send Jamie a quick love you! text and then slip into your Jamie Tartt jersey. It’s from one of his old kits so it’s a little worn, but you always put it into his laundry pile so it comes out of the wash smelling like him. It’s not something anyone would notice, but you know, and it makes you smile. You get to be in the stands and know that Jamie Tartt loves you and you love him, and at the end of the day he’s the one you get to hold. You give yourself a shake, and open your phone to figure out where you’re meeting Keeley.

—

“And Richmond wins, 3-2 with a smashing goal by number 9 himself, Jamie Tartt!”

You’re screaming and jumping in the stands, overwhelmed by the fact that we won, we won, we won! The Richmond team are piling onto each other, Dani on Isaac’s back, Sam and Jan Maas jumping up and down like kids. You lose sight of Jamie in the mix.

“Well Arlo, it looks like Richmond has once again, exceeded all of our low expectations.”

“That’s right Chris, all thanks to Jamie Tartt’s brilliant goal. Looks like he’s having a good time celebrating with the Richmond lads. Wonder what they’ll get up to tonight? But what’s this? It looks like Tartt has broken away from his teammates and is running to the stands! He’s stopped in front of a fan and it looks like he is kissing a very lucky Richmond fan full on the mouth!”

“Have you ever been so caught up in a moment that you’ve made out with a stranger, Arlo?”

“Can’t say that I have, Chris. Can’t say that I have.”

It all happens so fast, that you don’t even know how to process it. One moment you can’t find Jamie and the next he is leaping over the stands, catching you in his arms, and kissing you in front of the whole stadium as if no one else is around. When you finally pull away, breathless, he takes your hand and helps you hop over the wall onto the pitch. Not usually allowed, but you suppose they’ll let it slide for football’s golden boy. AFC Richmond has caught up to Jamie, and you’re all on the field, screaming your heads off out of the sheer joy of winning.

—

“You’re coming tonight, yeah?” Isaac asks you as you wait for Jamie by the team bus. It’s the day after the Man City game, and you’re back in Richmond with a plan to hit the town yet again, as though the night before wasn’t enough for them. (You actually wouldn’t know, because you were in a very nice hotel room with a certain striker).

“Yeah, you know the only reason we invited him anywhere is in the hopes that you’ll finally be able come along,” Colin adds.

Any story of Richmond’s win had a somewhat fuzzy picture attached of Jamie kissing you in the stands with some variation of the title “Tartt’s mystery girl.”

You laugh. “Yes, we’ll be there. It’ll be nice to actually be out and about with you guys. Family dinners are fun, but there’s more to life.”

Once you found out that Jamie’s whole team knew you existed, you made him invite them over for dinner once a month. It’s one of your favorite things, especially because they all bring food to share. When it’s warm you do pool parties and when it’s cold you play bracket uno. It was nice to meet Jamie’s family, whether he’ll admit that’s what they are or not.

“You ready, babe?” Jamie asks as he slings his arm around you.

“BYE TED!” you yell. “Ok. Now I’m ready.”

— 

Sam closed his restaurant special for you all, and turned it into like a private club. You say like because it is, at its core, a restaurant. However, under Isaac’s supervision and creative design, he apparently has transformed Ola’s through rearranged furniture, dimmed lighting, and music into a place where AFC Richmond can celebrate their win without feeling crowded by strangers. You’re secretly grateful, because clubs are not really your scene. You’ll get all dressed up, sure, but you never know what to do with yourself once you’re there. 

Speaking of getting dressed up, you were feeling yourself. You had a light blue mini dress, with an asymmetrical neckline and a single puffed sleeve. It was more a-line than bodycon, but hey. You like a little bit of a twirl when you spin. Your absolute favorite part though was that you were wearing two-inch silver block heels, with straps around your ankles. The dress plus the shoes made your legs look magical. 

You and Jamie are in the bathroom getting ready, you fixing your makeup and him fixing his hair. He half-turns to you and points to his hair with a questioning look. “Lookin’ good,” you smile, and he smiles back.

“Oh, babe,” he says, tweaking his hair one final time, “I left my sunglasses back at the locker room, and I was wonderin’ if you’d be ok getting them with me before we head to the party? I just don’t want Bumbercatch stealing them.”

“Why would Bumbercatch steal them?” you ask.

Jamie shrugs. “Something about ‘no name, fair game.’ That’s how Jan Maas lost his favorite socks.” 

You shudder. Why Bumbercatch would want Jan Maas’ dirty old socks, you have no idea. They must be really amazing.

You reply, “Yeah sure, I hate being too early to things anyway,” as Jamie absentmindedly kisses you on the forehead with a “thanks babe,” as he heads downstairs.

—

You don’t live far from the Richmond pitch, so you’re walking across the dark parking lot in no time.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Jamie says.

He’s swinging your hands as you walk. He looks nice, the sleeves of his cream shirt rolled up. Nice pants, nice shoes. Nice ass. 

“Yeah, of course,” you say, momentarily distracted by the fact that this man is going to get laid tonight. 

“No, I mean you’re always down for what-fuckin-ever, and you just let things bounce off you. And you like me, for my personality for some fucking reason? And I think about you all the time, when I’m gone or when, like, I have early training with Roy. And you make laugh because you stopped being afraid to be yourself around me. I just like you. And I meant what I said the other day, I do want to be with you forever. Not to freak you out or whatever.”

He’s stopped right at the doors and he looks so uncomfortable and earnest in a way that you’ve never seen before.

“I’m not freaked out, Jaim,” you say. “I love you, and you know I’m in it to win it with you. Now, let’s get those sunglasses and for the love of god, please don’t act this weird tonight.”

This elicits a chuckle, and he nods in concession. “Alright. Let’s go.”

The halls are dark and quiet as you walk to the Richmond locker room. It smells clean, for once. Like lavender. There’s a faint glow coming from the doors and Jamie pushes open the doors to the most magical thing you have ever seen.

There are candles on the benches and twinkle lights strung across the lockers. There’s a bouquet of flowers in the middle of the room and as you turn to Jamie, awestuck look on your face, you see him kneeling behind you, small black box in hand.

“Jamie,” you say.

“Yes, love,” he replies.

“What are you doing.” It’s a statement, not a question, and it comes out more wobbly than you’d care to admit.

He cracks a smile. “Eh, I hope it’s pretty obvious what I’m doing.”

You can feel a fucking tear forming in your eye and you will it to go away. You refuse to have streaky foundation.

“Love of my life,” Jamie begins.

“Yes,” you say.

“Oi, you’ve gotta let me finish.”

“Right, sorry, as you were.” You think your face is going to split in half with the size of your smile.

He takes a breath then continues, “there’s no one else I’d rather have shitty 3am breakfasts with, no one else I’d rather beat at MarioKart, and no one else I’d rather do life with. Will you m-”

He’s cut of by you kissing him like you have never kissed him before. After a moment, he pulls away and asks, “Is that a yes?”

You can’t help it, the furrow in his brow gets you every time so you laugh and reply, “Of course it’s a yes, you dummy!”

Jamie smiles and then yells, “Lads, she said yes!” and the blinds go up from the coaches office as the entire AFC Richmond team storms into the locker room. Dani and Richard are spraying champagne in the air as people hug you and slap Jamie on the back. 

You find his hand amid the chaos and squeeze it. 

“Can’t believe I were so nervous about this,” he says into your ear.

“Can’t believe you think you beat me at MarioKart,” you respond.

“Oi, we are not getting into this again-”

“There’s only one way to settle this.”

Jamie looks at you, then to all your friends celebrating, then back to you. “Think they’ll even notice we’re gone?”

You shake my head. “Nah,” you say, “let’s get out of here.”

Jamie smiles at me as you slip through six different lynx scents out the door. “You’re going down, Mrs. Tartt.”

“Only one of us is going down tonight, Mr. Tartt, and I can assure you it is not me!”

“You can say that again.” Jamie sticks out his tongue and wiggles his eyebrows at you, and your laughter echoes up into the night sky.

[teyvatairconditioningco]

Fuck it, the Avisos boys as cucumbers

Beelzebub is a Marketmore 76, the quintessential cucumber. You acquire a whole bunch of them aaaaand they're gone (to mold).

Bael is a Boston pickling cucumber, very crisp, takes spices very well. Also has several flavors of psychological trauma.

Naberius is an Armenian yard-long cucumber. Knows the secrets of the universe, easily digestible (those two things are unrelated).

Stolas is a Richmond green apple cucumber. He's just a little guy. Just a little war criminal. Bit thin-skinned. Vibes of a Cancer (astrological).

And finally, Amon is a lemon cucumber. Kinda wanna throw him, kinda wanna shove him in my mouth whole. Would confuse the shit out of your grandmother. Probably tastes great if you can find one.

All of them when they see [you]

[uneditedidiot]

this love is ours - jamie tartt x reader

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary: after officially starting to date Jamie, the media figures out who you are. Judgment comes in from all places - news outlets, social media, family members - but Jamie puts all that doubt out of your mind. based off the song ours by taylor swift. features appearances from Keeley and Roy.

word count: 2.5k

Warnings: language, angst, fluff social media bullying & hate, reassurance and comfort from Jamie

A/N: This could technically be part two to gold rush but you don’t need to have read that one to understand what’s going on in this imagine. Hope you enjoy!

Seems like there's always someone who disapproves

They'll judge it like they know about me and you

And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do

The jury's out, but my choice is you

Even on a beautiful Saturday afternoon out on the Richmond Green, you and Jamie somehow attracted the attention of a few invasive paparazzi.

“I thought the hat would be enough,” said Jamie, pulling the brim of his ‘icon’ hat further down his forehead.

The two of you walked off quickly down the path, keeping the photographers and their bright flashes at your backs.

You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging at his hand in yours. “Jamie, you wear that hat everywhere. People recognize it pretty easily.”

“I’m not the only person in the world with this hat.”

“Maybe not, but you made it popular.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled at you. “Well now that we’ve left those annoying arseholes behind, what do you want for dinner?”

“Keeley invited us over for a couples night with her and Roy,” you reminded him. “Remember? We talked about it with Roy this morning after your training.”

“Nah, the granddad has a tendency to ramble on with ya about random stuff so I just thought ya were chattin’ with him.”

“Yeah, I was chatting with him about dinner with him and Keeley, which you agreed to, by the way, even in your post-workout haze.”

Jamie grumbled like a little kid. “Ugh, but I’d rather just stay home with you, get pizza or some takeout, and make out on the couch.”

You lifted your head up to his cheek to kiss it. “And we can do that – tomorrow night. Which is a night we didn’t agree to have dinner with Roy and Keeley.”

That seemed to satisfy him for the moment and the two of you made your way back home to your shared house.

“I’m going to go shower, babe!” he called as he headed upstairs.

“I’ll be here!” you called back.

You kicked off your shoes by the front mat and strode into the kitchen to grab some water. As you filled a glass from the filtered pitcher from the fridge, you scrolled through your instagram.

After making it official with Jamie, the two of you had decided to keep it quiet in terms of posting on social media. You’d told close friends and everyone at Richmond. Jamie’s mom and stepfather obviously knew, since it had been at their house that you’d made things official. But your family hadn’t taken it quite as well.

Being from the States, your family’s only impression of Jamie was the Richmond matches they streamed and his arc on Lust Conquers All, which hadn’t painted him in a flattering light. Of course, Jamie freely admitted that he was an all-out prick on the show and had publicly and privately apologized to those he had hurt while filming. But your family couldn’t exactly see past it. They were protective of you and worried about what Jamie might do in the relationship.

Thankfully, Ted and Beard, who knew your parents quite well, had reassured them that Jamie was not the person the media portrayed him as. This had seemed to quell their anxieties about their kid dating a superstar footballer with a notorious reputation for being a (as your mother so kindly put it) “man-whore.” But you, as well as everyone around you, knew that Jamie had changed.

Now the instagram comments you saw as you scrolled on your latest post of you and Jamie getting brunch together were of similar nature. 

There were a few comments from your friends at Richmond – Keeley had commented, “I love you both so much and you are too cute together!” Sam had said, “the queen and king of Richmond;” while Rebecca put it plainly, “you are the best people and these photos are my new favorite of you both.”

Despite the many loving and supportive comments from friends and now people who had deemed themselves ‘fans’ of you (which felt quite strange, as you were merely the head physical therapist for the team and didn’t do anything that warranted ‘fans’), there were a good handful that were not quite as kind.

One person had written, “Jamie’s back in his pretending to be monogamous era - wonder how long that will last.”

You shook your head. You knew who Jamie had become and this wasn’t a phase for him. You scrolled on.

Another comment caught your eye. “Ew who are they? Jamie is way out of their league.”

And then more continued to pop up.

“Fuck them.”

“Why do they even bother? Jamie is going to dump them in like a week bet.”

“What are they wearing?”

“Jamie and Keeley will forever be endgame.”

“I liked it better when he was with Keeley.”

“Whatever happened to celebrities dating out of their league? This person is clearly a big step down for him.”

It was a rabbit hole of discouragement and darkness. And even after you exited out of Instagram trying to shake off the hate, more seemed to appear as you opened twitter. You’d been tagged in numerous disgusting tweets from multiple accounts.

“Go die no one likes u.”

“Why is your face like that and why does Jamie like it.”

“I bet he thinks of Keeley when they fuck. Lol I would.”

“You’re literally nobody and the fact that Jamie Tartt of all people is dating you is really pathetic.”

You shook your head, exiting out of twitter with a huff. You tossed your phone on the other couch cushion. It was difficult seeing so many people who thought they had a right to comment on your relationship saying such things on the internet. You knew coming into this that dating Jamie would be difficult in terms of hate on social media, but your fears were resurfacing.

Jamie wouldn’t actually believe all that stuff said about you. You knew that. But what if other people you knew saw it and agreed with it? What if you had to start dealing with people in real life saying that? Were you not good enough to be dating someone like Jamie?

The self-doubt began to creep in, like a mist slowly dragging itself over a hill. Your thoughts began to spiral.

You recognized the anxiety beginning to escalate and decided to watch something to distract yourself. You turned on the TV and tried to tune out the online ruckus.

About a half-hour later, Jamie came barreling down the stairs.

“Babe, Keeley just texted - I think we’re late for dinner,” he said, rushing to put on his shoes.

“Shit!” you cried, slamming the TV power button and quickly going back over to do the same as Jamie.

You both grabbed what you needed and quite literally ran out the door to Jamie’s car which was right next to the gates of your home.

As you sprinted to the passenger side door, a white light suddenly blinded you from beside the front gates. 

It was like they appeared out of nowhere – two photographers with large lenses. And they were yelling your name.

“Hey, what’s it like to be with someone who clearly can’t commit?” one laughed.

“Getting tired of this one already, Tartt?” the other bellowed.

“Just fuck off!” exclaimed Jamie, waving his hand at them. “This is private property! Fuck off!”

You jumped into the car, shutting the door as fast as possible. You watched as Jamie flipped off the photographers, who took the last few pictures they wanted, and trudged away.

Jamie closed his door with more force than necessary and buckled his seatbelt. “Arseholes.” He turned to you, putting his hand on your leg gently. “Are ya okay?”

No. No, you weren’t okay. After reading through all those hateful comments and then being berated by paparazzi not just for pictures, but also with hurtful questions didn’t help your self-doubt. It seemed to be bubbling up from below into your heart.

But you didn’t want to ruin the mood more by admitting you were not okay, so all you could do was nod.

“Don’t let them get to you, alright? I love you and nothing’s gonna change that,” confirmed Jamie tenderly. His hand slid into yours.

Neither of you let go all the way to Keeley and Roy’s. 

“Heya!” greeted Keeley from the front door as you and Jamie exited the car.

You forced a smile. “Hi, Keeley.”

“How ya doing, Keeley?” grinned Jamie. He gave her a big hug, and then you gave her one, too.

“Just peachy,” she replied, holding the door open for the both of you. “Roy’s inside getting the chicken all prepped. I think he’s trying something fancy tonight - chicken cordon bleu!”

“That is fancy,” you agreed. “He’s really upping his chef skills.”

“I’m not buyin’ that,”Jamie joked. “He’s making beans on toast.”

“Have some faith,” you nudged him playfully.

“I’ll put my faith in nothing until that chicken cordon bleu is sitting on my dinner plate.”

“You two are so cute,” awed Keeley as the three of you made your way to the kitchen.

You swallowed the lump in your throat at the comment, feeling sweat on your palms.

“Ey, if it isn’t the granddad himself!” cheered Jamie. “Making us something fancy, are ya?”

Roy was bent over the kitchen counter, slamming a meat tenderizer into pieces of flattened chicken. He turned with a scowl on his face and gestured at the younger man with the meat tenderizer.

“I’ll be flattening more than this fucking chicken if you keep that up, Tartt,” he growled.

“Aw, I’m terrified,” mocked Jamie.

“Stop it, you two,” ordered Keely good-naturedly as she kissed his cheek. “No one is flattening anything else ‘round here — especially body parts. Right, Roy?”

“I certainly wouldn’t be happy about it and neither would they,” Jamie chuckled, nodding his head at you.

Your smile was tight. You tried to make things light hearted as you wrapped an arm around Jamie’s bicep. “Yep. That’d be…tragic.”

Jamie peered down at you with a questioning glance. He knew something was up, but didn’t want to push it in front of Roy and Keeley.

Keeley gave you both drinks and you all went to sit outside on the patio as Roy finished up cooking in the kitchen.

Jamie and Keeley launched into immediate conversation and you tried your best to keep up and add things in here and there, but you were unusually quiet. Your mind kept drifting back to what you’d read online and what the paparazzi had screamed at you.

It was an endless circle of disappointment in yourself, anxiety, and self-consciousness. This infinite loop of darkness continued to crowd your mind, taking up all the space inside. A storm seemed have come into your psyche and it was doing a number on you.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket as Jamie and Keeley chatted about the towels in the locker room at Nelson Road.

Puzzled, you checked your texts. It was from your mom with a link to an article from a tabloid website.

“This doesn’t seem like a good thing, honey. What are you doing with a celebrity like that?”

That was the message your own mother had sent you about Jamie. You internally groaned. Then you clicked on the article. The headline was atrocious: HOW LONG WILL TARTT’S NEWEST FLING REALLY LAST? The pictures associated with it were from that very day on Richmond Green with you and Jamie walking hand-in-hand, clearly trying to outrun whoever was taking the photos. And then the worse ones – the paparazzi from outside your house had sold the pictures to this tabloid. They were grainy and ill-lit and had been very obviously edited. They had added weird width to your arms and even your head. The caption was “Tartt’s Partner has Gained some Weight!”

That was it for you. The dam had broken. 

Tears were already spilling over by the time you’d suddenly stood from your chair and raced to the bathroom.

Both Jamie and Keeley called your name after you, and Roy had said it, surprised, from the kitchen as you rushed past.

You closed the door quietly, but didn’t have the willpower to sit anywhere else but on the floor next to the sink. You sobbed into your hands as silently as possible, but that didn’t work for long.

“Babe?” came Jamie’s voice through the door. “Babe, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

The desire to be alone was rapidly replaced by the need for Jamie.

You opened the door slowly, still seated by the sink. You kept your blood-shot gaze away from his for a moment as he stood there in silence. 

When you looked up a moment later, your heart broke at his worried expression. His hands were shaking slightly.

“I’m just…overwhelmed,” you admitted hoarsely.

Jamie got down on the floor next to you, patting the space between his legs and reaching for you. You shuffled over to sit in his lap, your legs swung over one of his, arms going around his body and face sliding to nestle in his neck.

His arms wound around you protectively, rubbing your back and rocking back and forth slightly.

“Why are ya feeling overwhelmed, love?” he wondered gently.

You inhaled shakily, your face still buried in him. “I just…I’ve been getting a lot of hate comments and mean tweets lately. And then those paparazzi incidents today were awful and then my mom just texted me saying things like ‘why are you with him’ and ‘you shouldn’t be with someone like that.’ Then there was a link to this article that had pictures from today and they’d edited me to look horrible.”

Jamie sighed, his voice soft. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m truly so sorry. People are arseholes.”

“Why do they hate me so much?”

“They hate what they don’t have. They see us happy and they’re miserable, so they want to make us miserable. People throw rocks at things that shine.”

You moved your head off his neck so you could look him in the face. You smiled through your tears. “Did you just quote Taylor Swift at me?”

“I did,” he smiled. “But I’m not kidding. Media is fucked up. People on the internet are fucked up. They’re bored and feel the need to stick their stupid opinions where they’re not wanted.”

“It’s just so frustrating.”

“I know. But what matters is you and me. That’s it.”

“You’re right. You and me. That’s it.”

Jamie smirked mischievously. “Besides, they’re probably jealous you get to sleep with a hot footballer and they don’t.”

You laughed. “Jamie, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I’m not sleeping with Roy.”

Jamie laughed in return. “Oi! Ya don’t need to be an arsehole about it.”

You gazed happily at him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. And I promise, forget all that shit. If you’re ever feeling this way again, just talk to me. I’ll make sure to let you know that all I need is you and you alone. This love is ours. They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

You pressed your lips to his for a sweet kiss, feeling much more reassured.

“Now come on,” Jamie encouraged when he pulled away, “I’ve gotta see if Roy actually can cook.”

“I think he can, Jamie.”

“We’ll just see about that, won’t we?”

[willalove75]

Keeley and Rebecca would gossip at lunch about Roy and Reader . Especially after seeing them workout together , reader has tattoos . Maybe they go on a double date or with Jack ? Some banter , teasing . Rebecca KNOWS what gets reader going 😳🔥

Yessss!! Love this request so much! Sorry I took literally FOREVER to get to it💕

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI

Tags: flirty, teasing

A/n: Holy shit it's been a MINUTE since I've done a Rebecca fic! I'm going to be trying to do a better job at responding to the Rebecca requests that have been in my inbox for months. I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get through them!

Rebecca and Keeley walk through the halls of AFC Richmond together as they're on their way to lunch. They make their way through the locker room in search of you. Rebecca knocks on Ted's office door and walks in.

"Well howdy boss! Keeley! What are you two rascals up to?"

"Good afternoon Ted." Rebecca says. "Have you seen y/n? I thought she would be in here."

"Ah, I think I saw her and Roy head into the gym a little while ago."

"Of course that's where they are." Keeley says with a playful eyeroll.

The duo head to the gym and lo and behold, there you were. You were doing bench presses and Roy was your spotter.

Rebecca's breath hitches in her chest when she sees you. Her eyes rake over your body, your legs spread on either side of the bench, the little arch in your back, the tight white tank top you had on - you must have pulled your work shirt off. She was practically drooling over the way your muscles flexed when you brought the bar down to your chest and pushed it back up. The tattoos covering your arms were glistening with a thin layer of sweat and it made her heart skip a beat. You didn't even know she was standing there and you were already driving her crazy. It was baffling to Rebecca that someone had such an effect on her.

"Hi babe!" Keeley says as she trots over to Roy and kisses him on the cheek.

As you bring the bar back down to your chest you hear Keeley and look over and see Rebecca practically gawking at you. You flash her a quick smirk before Roy brings you back to reality.

"You're not done yet." He growls. "Four more. For every second you stare at her I'm adding two more."

You quickly refocus and bang out the last four reps before Roy helps you rerack the bar. Using it as leverage, you pull yourself up into a sitting position and look back over at Rebecca who's strutting her way over to you.

"Hey babe." You say.

"Hello my love." She says, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well we were going to invite you to lunch, but it looks like you're rather preoccupied at the moment." Rebecca says.

You look over at Roy who lets out a low growl letting you know he's not finished kicking your ass yet.

"I'm sorry baby, but it looks like Oscar the Grouch here isn't done torturing me just yet."

"You asked for this." He deadpans.

"It's okay my love, we'll get lunch another time." She says.

"Okay lets go! I'm so hungry I could fuck a horse!" Keeley says.

You, Rebecca, and Roy all look at Keeley.

"Don't you mean 'eat a horse?'" You ask.

"Nope. Bye babe!" She says before kissing Roy and heading towards the door. "Lets go Rebecca!"

You shake your head at her and Rebecca looks down at you. Looking up at her like this does things to you and she knows it. She tries to do it as often as she can and it drives you wild. She bends forward and subtly squeezes her breasts together so you get the best view of her cleavage since you can see right down the front of her shirt. You can feel your cheeks turn red and it's not from working out. Rebecca cups under your chin and pulls you in for a kiss.

When she pulls away and you open your eyes you're met with a beautiful pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you. Your heart stutters in your chest and she gives you a little smirk.

"I'll see you later, love." Is all she says before turning around and walking away. She sways her hips a little as she walks away and you develop an ache between your legs.

After she leaves you drag your hands down your face and groan.

"That woman will be the death of me."

Roy snickers at you and you shoot him a look.

"You chose that punishment. I have no sympathy. Lets go, you have two more sets to finish and then I'm throwing you in the ice tub." You groan in protest. "After that little, whatever the fuck that was, you're gonna need it."

At lunch Rebecca and Keeley are seated at a table and they go over the menu after placing their drink orders. Rebecca is chewing on her bottom lip as she looks over the menu and Keeley giggles at her.

"What?" Rebecca asks.

"You."

"What about me?"

"She really got you flustered by just existing, didn't she?" Rebecca rolls her eyes at Keeley and looks back at the menu. "Oh come on! I saw the way you were looking at her and how you practically eye fucked her in front of the entire team!"

"Keeley Jones! I did no such thing!"

"Oh yes you did and you know it!"

"I wasn't eye fucking her, just, playfully flirting."

"Yeah, okay. Anyway, we should go on a double date, we haven't done that in ages!"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, Friday night?"

"Perfect."

Friday night rolls around and you and Rebecca and dressed and off to your double date with Roy and Keeley. Her driver drops you off at the restaurant and Keeley and Roy pull up right after you. After exchanging hello's the four of you head inside and are lead to your table. Drinks and orders are placed and the conversation starts to pick up.

"So how do you think the boys are going to do at next weeks match?" Rebecca asks Roy.

"They better kick their fucking asses." He says.

"How's Isaac's injury?" Keeley asks you.

"He should be fine to play next week. Luckily he didn't tear anything in his knee so I worked on him throughout the week to try and strengthen it so he should be good to go." You say.

"Well that's a relief." Rebecca says.

You go to speak but your words die on your lips when you feel a foot drag up your leg. Looking across the table at Rebecca, she's resting her chin in her hand and looking at you as if she's not teasing the shit out of you right now.

"Are you okay, love?" She asks.

"Yup. All good." You say as you take a sip of your drink.

Her foot climbs higher and pushes your legs apart a little and you try to not choke on your drink. Thank god Roy and Keeley started talking about something else so they don't see you struggling.

The waitress comes over with your food and you feel Rebecca's foot pull away and a wave of relief washes over you. The four of you start eating and just as you're about to take a bite her foot begins stroking your leg again. Looking at Rebecca she has a smirk on her face and you watch as she slowly brings her fork to her mouth and wraps her lips around it before pulling it away. You take a sip of water when you feel your face flushing. This woman can breathe in your direction and immediately fluster you.

"So how has working out with Roy been?" Keeley asks you,

"It's been really good, he's been kicking my ass."

"You needed it." He says.

"Okay, listen-"

"That wasn't a question."

"Such a prick." You laugh.

"Why have you been working out so much, love?" Rebecca asks.

"I don't know, I like it. Especially since I have full access to a gym at work I mean, why not?"

"You have certainly gotten stronger over the last few weeks." She says as she reaches across the table and squeezes your bicep. She's subtle about it but you can feel her drag her nails across your skin as she pulls away.

"Thanks." You sputter and try to cover it with a sip of your drink.

Throughout dinner Rebecca keeps catching your eye, maintaining eye contact when she takes a bite of her food, watching you squirm when her foot grazes the inside of your thigh. She drives you crazy the entire night.

The waitress brings out dessert and Rebecca maintains eye contact with you once more as she takes a scoop of her dessert and eats it.

"Here." She says. "Try it."

Rebecca picks up a spoonful and reaches across the table and feeds you. She slips the spoon between your lips painfully slow and pulls it out at the same pace, not once breaking eye contact. You let out a small moan and try to play it off as if you're moaning about the dessert. Keeley and Roy don't seem to notice but Rebecca's eyes flash with lust for a moment.

She reaches across the table again and drags her thumb across your bottom lip, wiping away some of the dessert left behind.

By the end of the night you're squirming, the heat between your legs is damn near unbearable and she knows it.

You say your goodbyes to Keeley and Roy and climb into the car. Rebecca pushes the button to pull up the privacy divider between the front and back seats of the car and looks at you with lust in her eyes. You try and make a move but she stops you pinning you back against the seat. A pathetic moan leaves your lips and she smirks.

"What's the matter, love?" She says as her lips ghost the shell of your ear.

"Rebecca." You pant.

"Yes love?" She asks before placing soft, open mouthed kisses on your neck. "What's the matter? Got you all worked up?"

"Yes." You groan.

"So easy to fluster."

"Please."

Rebecca cups your core and presses her fingers against your soaked panties.

"All this for me?" You nod your head.

She pulls her hand away and you whine.

"Don't worry my love, when we get home I'll have you whining for all of the best reasons."

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

I NEED CHRISTMAS THEMED REBECCA WELTON X READER

maybe one where there’s angst where Y/n is really close with Rebecca and the team so she spends lots of time at the club and Rebecca is trying really hard to Show y/n that she loves her but y/n is completely oblivious, Rebecca spills to Keeley how much she loves y/n and Keeley tells y/n abt and surprises Rebecca or something.

you can alter things so it makes sense! ☺️

Make Your Wish Come True

Rebecca Welton x Fem!reader

(not my gif)

WARNING: MINORS DNI, cliffhanger ending?

❝ She’s showed me what love was supposed to be. I find my heart so full of her I can hardly call it my own❞

-Rebecca Welton

~~✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿~~

“You know, I really don’t think she fancies me. I really just don’t seem her type, Keels” Y/n says, unconvinced of even the slightest possibility. “Oh come on! She totally fancies you!”

Keeley had known y/n since their middle school years. They’d always get into some chaos wherever they’d go, sometimes, (which means all the time) Keeley would be the one always in isolation for taking the pranks a bit too extravagant. One time, Keeley and Y/n egged their neighbors house. But, a certain someone took it a step too far and toilet papered his car and dyed his dog key lime green.

A year ago, Rebecca had met y/n whenever they had run into each other in the hallways of the FC. Of course, since Rebecca is Rebecca she was always quite professional, and with y/n being clumsy and always getting herself, sometimes others, injured with her recklessness.

Y/n was in a rush to get to Keeley on a particular Saturday, hearing heels clicking in the distance, y/n paid no mind, focusing entirely on her phone. “Y/n watch out!” A familiar voice shouted, but, before y/n could turn around her dance smashed into someone, someone tall, and blonde, and beautiful…

“Miss Y/l/n, I’d say to be careful, but we all know you’ll fall again,” Rebecca smiled, chuckling sweetly, making sure y/n didn’t trip and fall on the floor. Y/n freezes up slightly, but still manages to utter a coherent sentence. “Thank you, Becca,” The blonde woman nodded with the same charming smile and let go of y/n before walking off, a faint blush on her cheeks.

The two shorter women watched as Rebecca strutted away with her hips swaying perfectly as she went. “She wants you…”

“Not! I can only keep dreaming.” Y/n sighed dreamily staring at the mistletoe in the heavily decorated hallway. Ribbons and trees lined the tables, and festive lights seemed to burn your eyes.

“Maybe Santa can Make Your Wish Come True!” Keeley exclaimed, grabbing a Santa plushie off of her desk and squeaking it, causing the two to laugh.

——————————

Rebecca never thought she would find herself surrounded by the Ted’s little…friendship circle.

“So, uh, boss. What brings you here?” Ted smiles, his hands folder in his laugh. “Well..Uhm, I’m positive you all know y/n, correct?” Rebecca looks around, everyone nodding, listening intently. “I…I feel…strongly toward her,” she had worded it that way for a reason, she was quite unsure about this, the memories of her last relationship with Rupert still haunting her mind. “Strongly, how?” Nate asked, slightly squinting his eyes as if he knew what she was going to continue with, Rebecca sighed, “I like her, I really do” Higgins clapped his hands together, “I knew it!”

“Like or love?” Roy bluntly enjoined, the blonde stood there for a minute to finally admit to herself what she had register for long.

“Love.” She spoke barely above a whisper, Roy smirked, to tease Rebecca further he urged her to be louder, “Huh?”

“I said I love her! Okay?!”

That was they had needed. From that point forward, everybody in AFC Richmond knew about about Rebecca’s little plan. She gave y/n extravagant gifts, showered her in compliments, and flirted every chance she got. Yet, y/n and her infinite wisdom thought that Rebecca was being friendly. In all truth, the blonde was about to just come clean, so, to prepare herself, Rebecca goes on to tell Keeley about just how much she’s willing to go for y/n. Though, she might’ve already known.

At the little firm Keeley had been managing, Rebecca hastily made her way to her best-friend’s office. A state of panic washed over her, she really just didn’t know what to do, she’d never dated a woman so this was all knew to her. “Keeley?” The taller woman called, opening the door, “Becca! What’s this about, y/n? Did you finally snog her?”

Keeley was one to be quite blunt when it came to romantic questions. “No, sadly” Rebecca chuckled joylessly, tossing her bag on Keeley’s office couch. Keeley frowned, hating the look on Rebecca’s face, “Man, is she really that blind?” She joked, chuckling at Rebecca’s little smile, “why don’t you just tell her? She likes you, isn’t it obvious at this point?” Rebecca looked at up at her in disbelief, “you’re joking?” Keeley almost screamed, these two were a bunch of idiots. For a literal month, these two had been pining for each other, they’ve been flirting non-stop and yet they still don’t know if the other likes the other? Jesus Christ, they were going to be the death of her.

Rebecca jumped out of her seat and ran to her car, the snow falling gracefully as the cold hit her cheeks. Buttoning her jacket to keep warm, she dialed a certain someone’s phone number..

[neil-gaiman]

Hi,

My name is Hayden and this is less an ask, more a rhetorical “how did you do this?!” and "this is really weird and cool please listen!" I'm not sure if you'll be interested but it's a very strange, very real story of coincidences melting my brain. I hope you find it as wonderful as it felt.

So last winter/spring I was in the last year of my undergrad degree in Twickenham. On the weekends I worked at a cocktail bar in the area -the Richmond, London area to be specific. During this time I started listening to The Sandman Audiobook on Audible. I’ve always wanted to read the graphic novel, I knew I’d like it, it’s exactly my type of fiction but something always stopped me a few pages in, I was enjoying it but it just wasn't going in (maybe it was my dyslexia or ADHD or the stress of 3rd year Uni). So I started listening to the Audiobook. It was amazing. It pulled me into the world immediately and I could listen when I while doing other things and still be engrossed. As a Creative Writing/Film student it inspired me, motivating me to write my dissertation, fueling my creativity. I would listen every spear chance I could, when I cleaned my room, as I did laundry, on my walks to lectures, on the bus to work...

I would even get to Richmond 30 minutes early so I could sit on the Green and listen for a little longer. On my breaks I would sit in the little office at the top of the building, eating my dinner at 11pm and listening to the tales of Dream of the endless. The bar was (and still is) on Brewers Lane, a narrow little cobbled-Alley that goes between Richmond Green and the high street. It's a beautiful, old bar, definitely haunted and full of memories, full of stories.

A few months later, I had finished the Audiobooks (the 2 that were out at the time), I no longer worked at the bar, I had graduated with a First Class Joint Honours. This is when The Sandman Series came out. I watch it and to my delight when it's good, more than good. The acting, production and characterisation were everything I could have wanted. I then get to Episode 6, The Sound of Her Wings. Adapted beautifully from the graphic novel. While I watch I start to recognise the environment Dream and Death were in, the park bench seemed familiar. I think "that's just London parks, they're all pretty much the same". Then the siblings start walking, and I start to recognise some landmarks of Twickenham, pubs by the river that were too expensive for me and my friends, old wisteria-covered streets I walked down with people I no longer talk to. I'm already thinking this is so cool, seeing Dream and Death walk around these places I spent the last 3 years of my life around.

Then they're back in the park. And I see it. no doubt. It's Richmond Green! The same place I would sit and listen to the audiobooks! the exact place I sat! daydreaming, people-watching and listening. Where I pictured these exact characters in my mind's eye. The embodiment of story and imagination was standing on the Green that I had imagined him on.

Dream and death say their goodbyes and I am full of wonder, disbelief and some other hard-to-define emotion. Dream walks away from his older sister. He enters an alley. No, a lane. He's walking down Brewers Lane. The Lane I worked on for a year. The Lane I sat above listening to Lord Morpheus in existential angst and now he was walking below it. Waking among the people. Walking past the shops I passed. At that moment I felt like I had willed him into existence. At this point, my mind was well and truly blown. Then he came to just outside the Bar, my Bar, and the scene ends. The scene ends at the very same place I would stand, at 2am, smoking with my friends after a hard shift, before we'd go back inside, and make each other the most extravagant drinks we could come up with and talk til 5am. Then stumble back to that spot, say our goodbyes and make our way home. And I had just seen Dream stand there.

I know this is all a coincidence, that Tom and Kirby aren't actually Dream and Death. I didn't actually will the TV series into the world. Lots of stuff is filmed in Richmond, it was probably filmed before I even worked there and I could have been listening to any audiobook at the time. It's not a magical occurrence, it's scratches on shiny metal, random and without meaning. But for that moment, watching that episode, You (and 50+ other people) held up a flame to the scratches, letting me see all the meaning and purposeful patterns I could ever want. And that's just a bit magical I think.

But yeah, I think it's pretty clear you've somehow gotten directly into my brain, Netflix knows something and the show was made specifically for me!

That's magic.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Tour de Richmond

Fandom: Ted Lasso

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader

Summary: Jamie gives you a tour of Richmond as well as gets to know you better. When you tell your cousin of his teammate's generosity, he suddenly becomes a bit hostile towards Jamie.

Meet Cousin McAdoo | Caffeine Crash

A/N: i looked up the bare minimum of the Richmond area. if anything is wrong, please let me know!

"So you've been around here, yeah?" Jamie asks, gesturing to the small shops that neighbors the cafe you were just at.

"A bit. Haven't really gone in any of these shops. But they're cute!"

"We can pop in a few if you'd like?" he suggests, pointing to a bookshop to your left.

"Another time."

Jamie shrugs, "Suit yourself."

He guides you away from the shops and towards, "The Richmond Green. The general gathering spot for people here. Kids like to play football here. There's sometimes cricket tournies here too."

You smile at the gathering of people scattered around the green acres. You see a small group of people doing yoga, three teens kicking a football around, people walking their dogs around. It's a very comforting atmosphere.

Jamie does his best not to be obvious about looking at you. He finds himself smiling to himself because you seem to find joy in the sights before you. He then turns to the view and realizes that he's never really enjoyed watching everything and everyone. He's always ran past them all during trainings and whatnot.

"Sorry, is it okay if we sit down and people watch for a little?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he follows you to a bench where you both sit down.

You sit your drink and stare, "It's nice to just sit here and watch everything. I find it very calming. I don't get to do it much back home, though, always too busy with work and life."

"I don't think I've ever done this. I felt like I need to be on the go, ya know? Spend my time trying to get better, improvin' and all that."

You turn your attention to him, "You've never given yourself a break? What do you do during the off season? Don't you go on vacation?"

He shrugs, "I'm busy practicin'. I'll visit me mum and Simon sometimes, but they're doing their own travelin' a lot of the time," he nudges you with his shoulder, "What about you? Have you done any travelin'?"

"When my aunt married Isaac's uncle, that was the first time I travelled. They had a destination wedding in France. Wanted to be in the city of love and romance. That's where I met Isaac. We became really close through that trip. He's like my big brother. Always looking out for me." you take another sip of your drink and stand to your feet, "Okay. I'm ready to continue."

Jamie follows as you two continue to walk around the green. He points over in one direction, "Right there is the Richmond Palace. The Tudors lived there and some shit. Over there is the Richmond Theater. They do plays and stuff there."

You snort at Jamie's explanations, "Some tour guide you are! You're not going to give me a brief history on the town or these historic landmarks?" you give him a playful smirk.

He chuckles, "I'm sorry I didn't do me homework before offerin' you a tour. Here," he pulls out his phone, quickly typing something and clearing his throat, "Richmond was founded following King Henry VII's building in the 16th century of Richmond Palace.  The town and palace became particularly associated with Queen Elizabeth I , who spent her last days there," he lowers his phone down, smirking at you, "Better?"

You giggle, "You're funny. Are all of Isaac's teammates like you?"

"Nah. I'm the best outta all of them. I'm the funniest, best lookin'-"

"Most humble," you add with jest.

Jamie's smiling at you. He enjoys your company. He feels at ease around you and he's only spent maybe an hour in your presence. He likes this little back and forth you and he seem to be doing. It's nice. It's fun. Maybe-

A ringing comes from your bag and you swiftly pull your phone out, answering, "Good morning, sleepy head...I woke up early and thought I'd grab a coffee," you roll your eyes, "Don't be dramatic, Isaac, I'm an adult. I can handle myself...I'm not alone. Jamie." you sigh, "Yes, Jamie Tartt. Hold on," you pull the phone away from you and hold it out to Jamie, "He wants confirmation I'm really with you?"

Jamie takes the phone and presses it to his ear, "Yeah, what's good, man?"

"You better keep her safe, bruv. If anything happens to her-"

"Oi! Chill man! We're just walking around the fuckin' park."

"I'm serious, Jamie."

"We'll be fine. She's a grown adult, man. Let her be," he hands the phone back to you.

"If you're going to be like this my entire visit, I'm getting a hotel, Isaac...yes, I'm serious! ...again, I can handle myself. I'll see you soon. Bye!" you immediately end the call and take a long sip from your coffee.

"I get he loves you and all, but Jesus. I can practically see that vein in his head ready to pop out."

You burst out laughing, "I know exactly what you're talking about! Also the way he frowns when he's all serious. Like," you do your best impression of Isaac frowning and Jamie laughs, "That's pretty good."

"Thanks," you reply with a smile, "I'm sorry about Isaac, by the way. Like I said, he's like my big brother and he sometimes takes the role too seriously. But he means well."

"I know. He's a good guy."

Another hour goes by of you and Jamie chatting, him occasionally pointing out some other Richmond landmarks. It was a very pleasant morning spent. He walked you all the way back to Isaac's.

"Thank you, Jamie. This morning was fun."

"I'm glad. Sorry again for crashin' into ya like that."

You shrug, "It's okay. It led to a fun little adventure with you."

Jamie slowly backs away from you, "See ya around."

"See ya!" you wave as he's lightly jogging down the street. You continue to watch him as he fades from view. There's a little fluttering in your chest and you feel a bit giddy.

You open the door to Isaac's and you yelp in surprise as he's standing there, arms over his chest, looking very stern.

"Uh, hi?"

"Did Jamie try anything?"

"What? No! He just gave me a tour of the town!"

"So he didn't try to kiss you or nothin'?"

You roll your eyes, "Nothing happened, Isaac. And if something did, it's none of your business! Besides, I thought you said Jamie is a better person now."

"Doesn't mean he can date you."

"Whatever," you pass him and head to the kitchen to make yourself a snack.

[skittishlikefromthewar]

my favorite headcanon to ponder is that as soon as they enter the Champions League - and it becomes official that this level of cardiovascular training is going to become Jamie's new longterm normal - Roy immediately bans him from running on pavement (so that he'll still have cartilage in his knees by age 60, and because no trainer ever cared enough to do that for Roy and he's gonna do better by Jamie if it kills him).

However...

--they can't limit all his running to a treadmill or track either, because that's a GREAT way to get hurt when he's on the pitch. 

Cue a hilarious montage of Jamie biking to some park, folding the bike to carry over a shoulder while running through said park, hopping back on the bike once he reaches the road, biking until he reaches a grass/dirt track along the river, running until the dirt track runs out, biking again, etc.

Cut to a shot of Roy frowning studiously because This Isn't Working Out, before he turns to Jamie and dead-serious, he asks, "Can you run the pavement on your hands?"

And Jamie is 😭😭😭 on the inside but verbally he's just "uh....yeah! Yeah sure I mean yeah no don't think so but yeah sure yeah why not I'll give it a go?"

Cut to Jamie managing seven whole haphazard steps in a handstand before, "aiyeeee..." and a close-up of Roy cringing with his fists over his mouth. 

Cut to Roy frowning studiously again. This time Jamie's got a big abrasion on his cheek. Again, deadly serious-

"Could you cartwheel the asphalt bits?"

Cut to Jamie cartwheeling over and over and over like. well, like a wheel, making good speed...

in a very much NOT straight line, until he cartwheels right into a bush.

"Well." Roy's got his studious frown, Jamie's got his scraped cheek and leaves in his hair. "I think we're out of options."

And Jamie's face falls. "Coach no. Please I can figure it out. Just need to keep trying things don't I?"

But Roy's shaking his head. 

And Jamie just looks sadder and sadder, and he starts to look a little scared. "Coach really I can just run the pavement like I used to it's f-"

"Nope. I'm calling it."

We linger on Jamie's devastated face. 

Quick cut to Jamie's torso. He's running on the road. He reaches the park. He runs through the park and reaches pavement again. He runs the pavement until he reaches the dirt track by the river. He runs the dirt track until it ends, transitioning straight onto the road once again. Scene cuts to him panting at Richmond Green once he's all done. He slowly straightens up, turning to Roy (who it's revealed bicycled the whole way with him) with the angriest, most murderous glare we've ever seen cross Jamie's face.

Roy breaks into his first grin of the entire montage. 

We finally pan down to Jamie's feet

--clad in every runner's favorite pseudo-orthopedic clown shoes. They let you run on a beautiful, cartilage-preserving cloud (edit: ASSUMING you don't immediately let your stride get sloppy, which people often do! that's important, can't believe i didn't say it initially!) and not even Jamie can make them look slick. 

*This post dedicated to my own hoka-related humiliations. They're lovely at what they're designed for but oyyyye. tbf hoka does make slightly less gigantic, less hideous models (ones that visually limit themselves to the type of loud garishness that Jamie would actually probably adore). But also tbf, you KNOW Roy would insist on Jamie cycling through the dumbest, ugliest, most embarrassing, "it's yer fuckin knees, Tartt come on!" models he could find. 

(Bonus: Practically overnight, Jamie suddenly becomes an expert in every dirt, grass, and otherwise natural running trail in all of London because as long as there's no concrete or asphalt anywhere on his run, he can go back to his normal low drop shoes.) (Edit: which, to reiterate, is a much better choice for both your joints and feet, than running pavement in hokas!)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

I often wonder about how and when the team learns about Roy and Jamie’s special training arrangement. In 3x04, Roy and Jamie are just getting started; in 3x05 they’re not keeping it a secret but who knows what they team is or isn’t picking up; in 3x06 everyone is obviously aware of their new and predictably unhinged deal.

There’s a lot of ways the revelation can play out and I’m in love with all of them, but my favourite version (tonight, at least) has one of the other players just stumbling on some candid posted on the site formerly known as Twitter a few days after Zava’s left for his avocado farm. Roy having Jamie pull his bike is a little too late for this grand reveal, but I crave that same level of insanity; say it’s Jamie doing push-ups in the middle of the Richmond Green with Roy standing next to him and keeping a foot on his back, or some such.

“Guys, have you seen this?” Sasha might ask, rushing into the dressing room with his phone held high.

They haven’t. They’re all suitably awed/astounded/alarmed.

“Did Jamie piss Roy off again?” Colin wonders aloud, leading to a smattering of yeah, must have and nah, Jamie’s been minding himself, hasn’t he? and says here the chick who posted it sees them every morning there’s more pictures look and the discussion runs loud and agitated with no clear consensus, and then Jamie walks in, and they immediately swarm him, like the fuck is going on here, bruv?

“Uh, yeah, Roy’s been coaching me, hasn’t he? Like, privately.” Jamie’s doing a fair job of playing it cool, like it’s no big deal, like it’s just a thing, no particular reason for it. It’s nice to be the focus of the team’s attention once more, but he suspects they wouldn’t be best impressed if they realised it’s all to make him better than Zava ever was. (Which is bullshit, really, because Zava’s a right knob, yeah, and he fucked them over too, like properly.)

“He can’t actually force you to do that shit, can he?” Jeff asks, his silly brow furrowed in concern, and he’s sounding just a little uncertain, because he knows that technically he’s right, but this is Roy they’re talking about and… who the fuck knows what Roy can or can’t do, really?

“Yeah, mate, you should talk to the gaffer,” someone else chimes in, and there’s nods and yeah, Ted’ll say something, right, he’ll sort Roy out and stop him from torturing Jamie further.

Jamie waves their concern away. “No, lads, listen, I want him to do it,” he tells them. “It’s to make me better, right?” It’s already working, too; he can feel it, his endurance building, his strenght growing. He’s better than he’s ever been, and he’s only getting started.

The team contemplates that for a few moments, in hushed silence. “Man,” Van Damme eventually offers, “you couldn’t pay me to do that shit.”

“Yeah, well,” Jamie says, with a wink and a smirk, “no one’s offering to pay you, mate.”

And that’s that, really. The teams murmurs and shrugs and moves on. Just Roy and Jamie doing Roy and Jamie stuff, innit?

(Roy steps into the coaches' office, and Beard looks up from his book. “What?” Roy asks, because he knows all of Beard’s completely blank faces, and knows this one for the pointed interest it is. “You and Jamie, huh”? Beard asks. “Yeah, well,” is all Roy says, but Beard nods because yeah, that makes perfect sense actually.)

[coimbrabertone]

Star Wars and Motorsports - A Surprisingly Intertwined History.

I actually had this blogpost planned out for a rainy day - I thought about maybe doing it for May 4th, 2025 as a Star Wars Day thingie - however, today, James Earl Jones passed away at the age of 93. I knew him as Darth Vader and Mufasa, but he played a lot of roles and provided a lot of iconic voices, others may know him from the Sandlot, Coming to America, or dozens of other roles over the years.

Rest in peace.

In his honor, I'd like to do my little part, so...a discussion of the long and intertwined history of Star Wars and motorsports.

The first relates to Darth Vader himself, as a dark and imposing figure, was associated with Dale Earnhardt in NASCAR. Yup, known as the Intimidator and as the Man in Black already for his iconic black and gray GM Goodwrench #3 Chevy, Dale Earnhardt was also nicknamed the Darth Vader of motorsports a few times in the 1980s and 1990s.

The black helmet and sunglasses played into that.

Somewhat more substantively, there is also the world of Star Wars sponsorships in racing, with Pepsi and Lucasfilm teaming up to sponsor Jeff Gordon at the 1999 CarQuest Auto Parts 400 Busch Series race at Charlotte Motor Speedway, promoting Episode I: The Phantom Menace. Gordon would suffer a mechanical failure...which is probably for the best because it had Jar-Jar on the left rear quarter panel.

Fast forward to the 2002 Coke 600, also at Charlotte, and Lucasfilm tried again, this time teaming up with Cheerios to sponsor John Andretti in the #43 car in the Cup series. This was the big leagues, and with them backing a midpack car, fifteenth was actually a respectable finish.

For Revenge of the Sith in 2005, the marketing campaign was back in force. First things first, there were four NASCARs that year, starting with both Yates Racing cars at the 2005 Subway Fresh 500 at Phoenix. Elliott Sadler drove the M&Ms #38 with a Dark Chocolate themed Dark Side paint scheme, while his teammate Dale Jarrett had a UPS/Milk Chocolate M&Ms Light Side car. The Dark Side car had Darth Vader, Boba Fett, and a Stormtrooper on it. The Light Side car had Anakin Skywalker, the green M&M with Princess Leia hair, and a C3PO M&M.

Pretty odd character choices for Revenge of the Sith but eh, it's all for fun. Anyway, Sadler finished 11th and Jarrett finished 23rd, so I guess the Dark Side won...which I suppose is appropriate, given the movie they're tying into.

So, at the very next race, Star Wars tried again. Teaming up with Jeff Gordon and Pepsi again, this time it was in the Cup Series, sponsoring the Hendrick Motorsports #24 at the Aaron's 499 at Talladega Superspeedway. This car, with Yoda on the hood, would go on to win the race in dominant fashion, leading 139 laps.

Jeff Gordon would also pose with Darth Vader and some stormtroopers ahead of the race, which seems like a conflict of interest given the Yoda car.

Fallen to the Dark Side, Jeff Gordon has.

Finally, Hendrick Motorsports got another Star Wars car, with Episode III sponsoring Kyle Busch's #5 at the amazingly named Chevy American Revolution 400 at Richmond. This Kellogg's car was Mustafar themed with a lava theme on a black base. It has Darth Vader and Mace Windu on it, which...neither is exactly a great fit for Mustafar, what with Windu being dead and Vader only gaining the iconic armor and red lightsaber because of the events of Mustafar.

Kyle finished fourth, another good result for Star Wars.

This wasn't all though, because at the 2005 Monaco Grand Prix in Formula One, Star Wars teamed up with Red Bull Racing to sponsor a car. Much like the Kyle Busch car, it was their regular livery with some orange-yellow Star Wars lettering and a lava/fire theme along the bottom.

Drivers David Coulthard and Vitantonio Liuzzi also got a Star Wars photo op to go with it, this time taking pictures with Darth Vader, two stormtroopers, Chewbacca, C3PO, and also George Lucas himself.

A few years later, at the 2008 Peak Antifreeze Indy Grand Prix at Sonoma, the third to last round of the 2008 Indycar Series, Lucasfilm and Blockbuster (lol) teamed up to sponsor Marco Andretti's #26 car. He would finish fourteenth on that occasion.

This was actually the second collaboration between Marco Andretti, Blockbuster, and Lucasfilm that year, as he actually drove an Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull car at the 2008 Indianapolis 500, finishing third.

More recently, at the 2023 NASCAR Championship Race at Phoenix, Star Wars and Columbia Sportswear teamed up to sponsor the 23XI cars. Bubba Wallace in the #23 ran an X-Wing car and even had Mark Hamill appear in the unveiling commercial, while Tyler Reddick in the #45 ran a TIE Fighter car.

Bubba Wallace finished 10th, and Tyler Reddick finished 22nd.

Two Light Side versus Dark Side races at Phoenix, the Dark Side drew first blood but then the Light Side won most recently. We're gonna need a tiebreaker.

So, that's what I got in terms of Star Wars sponsorships, but that's always been Star Wars going into motorsports. How about motorsports going into Star Wars?

Well, believe it or not, there is an example.

Podracing.

Yup, and not just in the "hey look, it's racing!" way, nope. At the 1998 Miller Lite 200 at Mid-Ohio, George Lucas and his crew recorded the sounds of the CART race to use as part of the sound mix for the podracing scenes in Episode I.

In fact - and unfortunately, I haven't seen the film so I can't confirm - I've seen the claim that the podracing sequence in Episode I mirrors the Monza race from the classic Formula One movie Grand Prix, which George Lucas is actually credited on as an assistant camera operator - which would lend some credence to the theory.

So yeah, I know I've kept this blog motorsports focused but I am a big Star Wars fan and have been for most of my life. To hear about James Earl Jones passing it's...it's just like...wow. It's unthinkable in a way. Obviously, he was getting older and all that, and there was that story a few years ago about him selling his voice rights to Disney, but like...to think that Darth Vader's voice actor is dead? That's crazy to me.

It's one of the biggest losses in recent media history, I think.

There will never be another voice quite that famous.

[celsfandomrave]

Ted Lasso Costume Deep Dive

I asked if anyone would be interested if I did a deep dive analysis into the Costume Design of Ted Lasso and people seemed to be very interested!

I work as what is called a Stitcher for opera and theatrical costumes which means I am one of the people who sews the costumes you see people wearing on stage. I am not a costume designer and I have never worked in TV. That said, many of the people I work with have worked in TV and I work with costume designers everyday, so I like to think I have a relatively realistic idea of what choices are intentional and what are not. This is my costume design degree put to use.

Part 1: Ted Lasso

Ted has simultaneously the most and least interesting costume design in the show so let’s talk about it and why I am freaking out about Ted’s orange shirt in Sunflowers.

With only very few exceptions here is a list of colors Ted wears:

White

Beige

Grey

Blue (Navy, Light Medium)

IF Ted wears a suit if will be black with a white shirt and a red tie for special occassions or a black tie for funerals

IF Ted is seen in his sleepwear it will be a pair of grey joggers with either a blue shirt, a black “Joe Arthur” T-shirt, or a Kansas City T-Shirt

IF Ted is seen at training or around the club just before or after he will be wearing some combination of (depending on weather):

White or grey polo shirt

Navy Blue Richmond Track Pants

Nav Blue Richmond Track Jacket

Orange Tinted Aviators

White Richmond Visor

On very rare occassions Ted will wear a RED POLO SHIRT. This is outside of Ted’s normal uniform.

The first time we see this shirt in Season 1 Episode 6, Ted is taking off his wedding ring. This immediately establishes that red polo means something is off in Ted’s world, even if it’s something minor. He might wear this shirt more than we actually see in the show but I would think of this as the shirt he wears if he hasn’t had time to do laundry.

This rule continues

Season 2 Episode 2

Ted is dealing with the fact that Dr. Feldstone is staying and the dinamics at the club are changing.

Season 2 Episode 3

Worn as Led Tasso. As though I needed  help proving this meant something was off.

Season 2 Episode 6

When he wears the shirt early in the episode it seems like there is very little going on with him, everything is fine. So why do we get red shirt Ted? and then he gets a panic attack in the middle of a game. That red shirt was the only indication that something was wrong.

Season 3 Episode 5

The Team are in a losing streak following the game with West Ham. He is also wearing it when he finds out about the bullying situation with Henry.

Other exceptions to the rule that I’m not reading too much into, due to them not being quite as noticeable:

Season 2 Episode 5

Ted wears this brownish yellow sweatshirt under his Navy Richmond jacket. I will let this slide because it is mostly covered by the jacket and it is very cold and snowy during this episode.

Season 3 Episode 1

Ted wears a green sweater dropping off his son at the airport. The green doesn’t stand out as much as the red or orange shirt do. I do think this is sort of an indication that we are getting a Ted in season 3 who branches out a little bit more.

Season 3 Episode 3

Ted wears a maroon sweater with a pocket to Sam’s restaurant. Notably, we have seen this sweater in Navy previously. Ted is branching out in colors but only when it is a style he knows he likes. This is also the same style as the orange shirt.

And now SEASON 3 EPISODE 6 he shows up in ORANGE out of nowhere.

and hopefully you understand why I am freaking out enough to do a breakdown of the whole show.

A few things I’d like to note.

The fact that Ted has a reasonably constrained wardrobe doesn’t really surprise me. The way these sorts of shows tend to work is that they will shop for a character’s closet. Even Keeley repeats, if not whole outfits, pieces of them at times. Ted is not the most fashion forward guy, it makes sense that he has a relatively short number of outfits. That said, Coach beard has much more variated style than Ted.

In the episode, what does the Orange shirt tie Ted to?

To me, the most obvious answer to this is actually Colin. Yes, you could argue that he is being tied to to Sunflower painting, maybe to the tea, maybe to the warm colors or the houseboat but if you are going to argue any of those, Colin is being tied to the same thing. I could definitely see both Ted and Colin being tied to the sunflowers. We are definitely meant to compare Ted to Van Gogh in the museum seen. Both are Inspiring creative people who are trying to get past their “inner demons”. Perhaps we are supposed to see that Colin is also one of these people or perhaps it is meant to connect Ted’s journey with Colin’s sexuality storyline. I genuinely don’t know the answer, but Ted’s costume tells me that something is going on.

Stay tuned for future parts where I will reveal which 2 characters are wearing the same distinctive T-shirt and have a similar freak out about Rebecca breaking all of her clothing rules.

Part 2

[its-time-to-write]

hi, i love your writing! could i request something where jamie and reader are dating and jamie starts introducing them to the important people in his life, like roy, keeley, the richmond boys, etc. and each time they get introduced to someone new, whenever jamie steps away, they basically get some variation of the 'you better not hurt him' talk, and when jamie finds out he's worried that reader is gunna be offended or upset but they reassure him that it's fine, they think it's cute that everyone's so protective of him and that it's nice to see him have so many people care about him

Sorry this took FOREVER. Here it is!

the way it goes

It has been exactly twenty-one days since Jamie asked you out on a proper date, and you’re of the opinion that life can’t get much better than this. You’ve only met two of his teammates so far, (Isaac because he’s one of Jamie’s good friends and Richard because you ran into him while shopping) and honestly, they aren’t what you expected at all. 

They’re kind and they seem to genuinely like working together.

(It’s a little funny to call football “work.”)

Isaac tells Jamie to bring you next time they all hang out, and reminds him to buy more juice packs than last time so they don’t run out again.

—

Turns out the next “hang out,” is a night at Isaac’s, and the whole team is there with various partners and spouses. There’s a strict sweatpants-only drsesscode, and pretty much everyone is in clearly expensive matching sets. You’re grateful that Jamie shrunk a brand-new deep green set the other week, because you didn’t have time to go out and buy something new/not ratty.

There are tables of board games, a pile of snacks, and even a bar. Jamie drags you over so he can get “proper buzzed,” and requests something incredibly complicated from Beard, who appears to be the only coach present.

“Babe,” Jamie says, “you good here? I’m gonna get some food.”

You nod and watch him weave through groups of people. You lean against the bar and wait for Jamie’s drink.

“So,” says Beard, “you’re Jamie’s girlfriend.

You nod. “Yeah, I am. I’ve known him for ages, though. Since I was in uni. Always thought he was just some prick footballer trying to score, if you know what I mean.”

Beard chuckles. “I get it. He’s a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

You grin. “He’s my asshole.”

Beard slides you Jamie’s drink but before he completely lets it go, he says, “Hey.”

His voice has lost its jocularity, so you look up to meet his (very intense, slightly terrifying) eyes.

“Jamie doesn’t need his heart broken. He may have been a giant prick, but he’s different now. He’s not the kind of guy you can just screw and move on from.”

Your mouth has gone a little dry, so you just nod. Right then. You turn to go find Jamie and hope he won’t mind if you take a sip of his drink. You’re planning on staying sober tonight, so that one sip is going to have to get you through till the end.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told you to be careful with Jamie. The first time was actually Roy’s niece, Phoebe. Jamie was babysitting and he asked you to come along, so while he was paying for ice creams Phoebe tugged your arm so you’d get down to her level and said, “If you make him cry, they’ll never find you again.”

You had looked at her in shock while she matter-of-factly stated, “My Uncle Roy’s been teaching me things.”

She said the word things far too ominously for an eight year old, but then Jamie came back and she was all smiles again. 

You got a similar, equally threatening talk from Phoebe’s mum, and then from Roy, and then Roy’s girlfriend Keeley.

Variations of the “break him and I’ll break you” talk had begun to trickle in whenever you’d pick up Jamie from Nelson Road. The tone ranged from Sam’s vaguely threatening, “We all love Jamie very much. We’re incredibly protective of him,” to Jan Maas’s blunt, “If you break his heart, you will never find another date on this entire continent.

Even Ted had a comment, which was more along the lines of, Jamie’s a big softie, he doesn’t need some to play him right now, he needs a real supporter. Each time, you assured them that you weren’t going to hurt him. You didn’t ask why they thought you would be the one doing the hurting when he was the one with the reputation.

Because you are fully aware of his reputation. You hadn’t seen Lust Conquers All, but you’d seen enough clips to piece together exactly how it went. And you’d seen the details of his cheating scandals all over the papers. And dealt with him firsthand while in uni. So yeah, Jamie’s past prick-ish behavior is not a mystery to you.

You find it endearing that so many people love him enough to protect him. It’s a good sign, you think.

You find Jamie carefully stacking various snacks on a tiny, tiny plate. His face lights up when you come into view.

“Oh good,” he says. “Extra hands.” He grabs his drink with one hand and gives you the plate with the other. He starts piling on something flaky and slightly green. 

“Isaac’s girlfriend makes these fucking pistachio things, and they always go way too fast. Gotta eat them while you can,” he says while creating an engineering marvel.

“Glad you like ‘em, bruv,” comes Isaac’s voice from behind you. You jump a little, and the plate wobbles. 

You turn to see Isaac with an absolutely gorgeous woman on his arm.

“I’m Stella,” she says. “It’s wonderful to meet you. We’ll have to have you two over for a real dinner.”

Jamie and Isaac quickly become engrossed in a serious discussion about football tactics, with Jamie downing his drink and then taking the plate of food from you. He was right, those pistachio things are amazing.

You chat with Stella for a little bit and learn she’s the face of a modeling agency and met Isaac during some football/branding thing.

“He was the only one during the entire shoot who made sure I was drinking enough water,” she laughs. “Who knew the way to my heart was through proper hydration?”

You talk a little longer before Jamie’s arm is snaking around your waist to whisk you off to see Dani. It goes like that for a little while until you finally settle down at one of the game tables. It’s a card game involving a lot of yelling and pointing fingers.

The house is noisy and cozy, filled to the brim with people who are just comfortable around each other, and you think you’ve never experienced something like this in your whole life.

Jamie on the other hand, is yawning a little bit. His hand, which had been on your knee tracing squiggly patterns, is starting to slow down so you put yours on top of his and whisper, “You about ready to go?”

Jamie nods and presses a kiss to the side of your head.

“Got fucking extra training tomorrow,” he quietly laments.

You get up to leave and Jamie follows suit with a very loud pronouncement that he’d rather be somewhere private, much to the amusement of the Greyhounds who begin to hoot and whistle. You roll your eyes and smack his butt on the way out.

Forty-five minutes later, Isaac’s phone dings with a photo of Jamie in a pink robe and green face mask, hair pulled back in an equally pink and fluffy headband. He’s lying on your bed and he can see the tv screen playing Notting Hill. You’ve typed, Someplace private, my ass, and Isaac just shakes his head and grins. Fucking Jamie. Prick on the outside, softie on the inside.

You better not break his heart, he writes.

HAH comes your reply a moment later. Not a chance.

“Babe, look,” you say handing Jamie your phone. “I’ve collected the whole set.”

Jamie reads your text thread then looks up at you in confusion. “What d’you mean?”

“Isaac is the only one who hasn’t like, threatened me or something if I hurt you,” you reply.

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red. “What do you mean, the only one?” he asks. “Like, the team?”

You shake your head. “Oh no. I mean, yes, the whole team, but like pretty much everyone who works at Nelson Road.” 

Jamie’s eyes widen as you begin to list people on your fingers. “Alright, so obviously the Greyhounds, plus all the coaches, Keeley, Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, Samantha at the front desk, Gary, Phoebe and her mum, Will-” you pause. “Should I keep going?”

Jamie groans. “Fucking hell. I’m sorry. They’re all twats, except Phoebe. I swear, they’re not always like that. I’ll talk to them and make ‘em leave you alone.”

“No! You can’t let them know that you know! And…” you hesitate, “I thought it was kind of sweet. Like a green flag, you know? They all like you enough to make sure that you’ll be ok, and they want me to know I have something special. Of course, I already knew that,” you continue, “but it’s nice confirmation.” 

Oh. That’s new.

Jamie’s quiet for way too long so you look over at him. “Babe, are you crying?”

“No,” he says, choked up. “Face mask got in my fuckin’ eye.”

“It’s dried solid, babe.”

“Fine,” he says, “I might be a little. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Ted, because then he’ll talk to me about feelings and shit, and I’d rather eat ten fucking scones than that.”

You laugh and snuggle into his side. There aren’t going to be any heartbreaks here, not if you can help it. You’re both planning on keeping the other around for the rest of your lives.

[rqgnarok]

request: jamie x actress reader!

love your writing 💚

this turned out to be more a lil angstier that i expected but y'all KNOW ME

"You're nervous."

Jamie jumps, bow tie unmade and tangled in his fingers. "I- no. No, what? 'm not."

"Jay," your voice drips with sympathy, tilting your head to the side as you put on your earring. "I told you, you don't have to come if you don't want to. We don't have to do this if we're not ready."

This being announcing your relationship to the world. Somehow you'd managed to keep it lowkey, this thing between you, only your families and closest friends (and the entirety of AFC Richmond, of course) aware of how happy you and Jamie were in a relationship with each other.

But now both your publicists have given you the green light and you've been sitting on the announcement for weeks, figuring out the best way to do it. It was a matter of luck, or maybe a little nudge from the universe, that the Emmys came around just before Jamie had to be back in England for preseason. It was all perfect, a little too good to be true.

Which is why you're threading lightly.

You still his shaking hands by taking them in yours, leaving the bowtie on the table, and kissing his knuckles. "You know, I still think an Instagram post isn't the worst idea. Have you gotten your password back from Keeley?"

"No," Jamie shakes his head firmly, expression determined even if some nervousness lingers underneath it. "No, angel, 'm ready. Promise. I wanna be there to snog your pants off when you win."

"If I win," you smile at his relentless faith in you and the picture he paints. You can't say you don't like the sound of that. "And I'm not wearing pants. And you haven't looked me in the eye since we started getting ready."

Jamie's jaw tightens in frustration, meeting your stare just to show you he can, even if he looks away too quickly. You say softly, "Baby, I'm serious. I know you support me whether you're there or not. Whatever you chose, we've got each other's backs. A hundred percent."

"'s not that," Jamie mutters, slipping closer so he can press a kiss to your forehead without disrupting your hair or your clothes. Your stylist would kill him if she saw anything out of place after it took hours to doll you up. "I want to, angel, 'course I want to. I just- you have to be sure."

"You frown, reaching for him when he goes to take a step back, keeping him close. "What, about coming out together?"

Jamie shrugs, small and dejected. "'bout us, more like."

Realization dawns on you like a horrible, cold splash of water to the face. "I am," you say slowly, hesitating. "...Aren't you?"

Jamie looks at you like you're insane. "Of course I am, that's not what I mean. But if- after we do this there's no going back for you. No more secrets. No more take backsies. Everyone'll know."

"Take backsies," you scoff, glam be damned you cup his face in your hands and get real close.

"Honey," you say, soft and fierce all the same. "Look at me. Are you looking at me?"

"Yes, coach," he teases, and you barely refrain from flicking him on the forehead.

"I'm sure," you say and mean it. Falling in love with Jamie happened effortlessly but it was every day that you chose to be with him, a decision you haven't even thought of regretting. "You were never meant to be a secret, Jamie. And if I did something to make you think that was my intention-"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his previous restraint gone. Some things are more important than composure, you suppose.

He draws back, breathless, holding your chin in his hand and thumbing at the corner of your mouth where your lipstick is probably smudged. "You're perfect. 'm just being dumb, baby, I know you love me. I want you to be happy, 's all."

You frown. "It's not dumb if it upsets you."

"And I promise to talk about it tomorrow," he says as solemnly as you know Jamie's capable of being before he surges to kiss you again with the energy you usually associate with him.

"But tonight we're celebrating you. And every single one of those statue things we're taking home with us. Let's go knock 'em dead, sweetheart."

[daydreamgoddess14]

Gala pt. 1

MASTERLIST

‘Reader insert’ – They haven’t heard Ted swear before or raise his voice, when they get dressed up for a gala the first word out of Ted’s mouth is “Fuck.” - for @dadbodfanatic-x . AFAB!Reader.

No warnings other than language, possibly a smutty followup though? 👀

The dress mentioned is Blake Lively's 2014 MET rose gold Gucci gown https://www.etonline.com/gallery/blake-livelys-met-gala-looks-over-the-years-183153/2014-86342

Chapter 1

You didn't get the chance to dress up very often. Workwear was usually sweatpants and a Richmond branded t-shirt, occasionally yoga pants if you'd managed to convince enough of the team to do a short session with you after training or a Richmond vest if it was a hot day. Always sneakers. You knew you'd signed up to a very capsule wardrobe when you'd gone into Sports Massage Therapy. In your younger days when a night out was a night out out, you'd dress up to the nines. Now though, nights out were usually a night in the Crown and Anchor. Hardly a red carpet event. And yet here you were - an actual red carpet event on your horizon, the 12th Annual Benefit for Underprivileged Children. You'd started at Richmond shortly after the 11th gala, you'd heard all the commotion about the 10th gala where Rupert Mannion had turned up unannounced.

You had your mind well and truly in your wardrobe rather than on the task at hand, so when Sam let out a little yelp as your elbow dug into the soft spot between his neck and shoulder, you nearly leapt out of your skin. 

"Shit, sorry Sam." You replaced your elbow with your hand to ease the sharp pain. "OK, you're all done."

"Thanks. Hey, Simi said thank you for the yoga class you did on the Green the other morning, she loved it."

"I'm glad. I was going to go and see if anyone fancied a short session now actually?"

"I would, bet Jamie would as well."

"Jamie just wants a nap!" You teased as Sam dragged his training jersey over his head, you followed him out to the team gym. The small window into the Coach's office was open, but you hadn't seen any of them during the morning other than Roy. "Afternoon lads. How was training?"

"Good thanks darls." Isaac grinned, "You got some pain to put anyone through today?" 

"Ahh, not today, sadly. I do love making you boys whimper for me, though. " You tease, making the Captain blush, "Was going to see if you fancied some yoga stretches?" Jamie stood up, reaching his arms into the air and making his back crack. 

"Yeah, fair one. I need a stretch and a sleep."

"Long as you don't snore Jamie Shark, I don't care. See you in the locker room in 10?" A few nods and hands went up so you left them to finish off their weight sets and get changed yourself. 

"I am never more surprised than when you can make our fearless Captain blush - how do you do it?" A singsong Midwestern lilt cut through your thoughts. 

"Coach Lasso, I don't do it on purpose. They're boys, they don't know what to do when they're not the ones in charge." You smiled. Ted and the other coaches had welcomed you happily into the support staff. They valued your opinions in a way you hadn't expected, if you said someone couldn't play - your word was gospel. You managed to catch Ted off guard occasionally with your sharp retorts, sometimes it seemed only Roy and Beard were able to laugh you off. This was another classic example, one tiny mention of being in charge and the tips of Ted's ears had gone pink. You'd never, in 11 months heard him raise his voice, in fact, you'd never heard him swear either. Those Midwestern manners were famous, and he had good manners by the bucket load. "I'm about to do a yoga session if you'd like to join us?"

"Ahh no thanks, I've got some paperwork to get on with."

"11 months and I've still not convinced you. That's a shame, you'd be settling an excellent example."

"As is keepin' their files up to date." He gave a little salute and turned into his office while you went to yours. When you got back a few minutes later, yoga mat under your arm, a handful of players were milling around getting ready. It was a lovely spring day, warm - as summer could almost be round the corner. You'd ditched the sweatpants and changed into yoga pants and a vest instead. You rolled your mat out in front of the Coach's office window, leaving space for Beard or Roy to get to the door if they needed to.

"Sit down boys. We'll begin sitting with our legs crossed, rest your palms on your knees, back straight. Push your bum right into the mat and extend your spine, shoulders down. And close your eyes." You led them through a series of poses, you were no Yogi but you knew a handful of relaxing stretches you knew worked to loosen you up, it was nice to be able to share those with the players. Roy came in halfway through to see you with one leg outstretched, the other foot tucked into your thigh and leaning forwards to stretch out the inner thighs. He dropped down onto the bare floor to take up the same pose, 

"My knee is fucking killing me." He muttered. You talked him through a couple of adjustments to help him find the best position to help with his pain. On hearing Roy, Ted had come out of the office. Not only had he refused to attend any sessions, he usually stayed in his office during them. The shock of seeing him come into the doorway nearly had you lose balance and fall flat on your face. He didn't say anything, just observed the group and went back to his desk. "Thanks love, " Roy said gratefully once you'd wrapped up the session, "I know I should make time for more of that shit, I know it helps."

"You also need a massage, Roy, your posture is awful from compensating for the pain in your knee. If you won't let me do it, I'll give Keeley some pointers later."

"She's takin' you shopping ain't she? Cinders finally gets to go to the ball!"

"I know, I'm looking forward to it. I think I've forgotten that clothing other than sport wear exists."

"Have fun, don't let her bully you into something you don't want to wear, she tries it with me all the time." Your head followed him into the Coach's office, looking in just to say goodbye around the small room. 

"See you all tomorrow, fellas." 

~~~~~~~~

"I don't know Keeley, it's a bit… much?" 

"It's a gala. It's black tie and incredible dresses. You don't want to go all plain and simple when you have the chance to go full on spectacular!" The dress was spectacular. You had absolutely no idea that you could hire a designer gown rather than breaking the bank on trying to buy one. Keeley had suggested the most divine rose gold Gucci dress with the most daring neckline you'd ever tried on. "You have the perfect boobs to fill this dress, you sound go for it!"

"It's not too tight on my hips?"

"Babe, you look like an awards statue. You look hot, trust me. A certain coach will lose his mind, vocabulary and breath when he sees you wearing the shit out of that."

"I have no idea what you mean. Coach Beard has a girlfriend." You replied with a laugh. Keeley threw a balled up t-shirt at you in response. The dress did feel like liquid gold on your skin, it clung to every curve and made you feel invincible. The gala was only a few days away, it wasn't like you had all the time in the world to decide. You made a snap decision and handed the dress to the store assistant. Keeley’s comments rang in your mind in the days running up to the gala. You weren't out to impress Ted. Not specifically, anyway. But if it happened to be a happy accident, then so be it. You were far too shy to actively approach him and ask him out. After 11 months of watching those soulful eyes, talking to him, and becoming friends, it was getting harder to subdue and mask your feelings. You had no idea what he really thought of you, and that was the scary part. After putting poor Jan through various stages of hell as you pummelled his back without really concentrating, you decided to call it a day. Keeley had offered you the use of her makeup artist and you figured there was no harm in accepting. With your glad rags on, you hopped out of Roy's car and went to join the red carpet queue. Up ahead you could see Rebecca who looked incredible in a deep emerald gown. Beard and Jane were next on the carpet, followed by a few players. You were next, slotting in between Colin and Michael and Roy and Keeley. You heard her voice in your head reminding you how to pose, but god your hands were shaking. You hadn't noticed Ted arrive directly behind Keeley, but you couldn't miss him when you heard his voice as you stepped in front of the cameras.

"Fuck." You heard, wondering for a second what on earth he was swearing at, and whether he intended to do it so loudly. That you'd never heard anything like it from him before distracted you from the task at hand. It was Keeley pulling you back to reality which helped propel you down the red carpet, Ted’s voice still ringing in your ears. 

~~~~~~~

[hacash]

"Alright, bruv?"

Sam doesn't even notice Isaac's presence until he thumps the locker next to Sam's head with his fist: the team captain's preferred form of greeting. He jumps, and then with a sigh goes back to staring at his phone. The beaming faces of the newly called-up Nigerian football team, resplendent in green and white. "Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, I'm fine, thank you."

"Bullshit," Isaac scoffs. "C'mon, what's wrong?"

Sam doesn't want to admit that anything's wrong. Treat your wins with humility and your losses with grace, that's what his father always says. But he supposes to do that you have to admit that there was a loss in the first place. Besides, if anyone would understand it's Isaac, Isaac who's never once been called up to the England team, who hadn't even looked up when Beard was reading out the roster. England team's bursting with great players anyway, he'd grunted when Colin had asked if he was alright. Even if I was good enough, don't think they're too keen to call up a guy who tried to throttle someone in the stands a month ago. Their loss then, Colin had said. That's, like, top of my list for qualities of a best mate. Not to mention team captain. Harry Kane's quaking in his boots whenever he sees you on the telly, boyo. And Isaac's face had split into this massive grin, and that had been that. "I just found out Edwin Afuko is the reason I didn't make the Nigerian team," he says. "What - that guy who tried to sign you up to his African super-team?" "Yeah," Sam sighs. "When I turned him down he told me I'd never play for the Nigerian national team. Now I found out he bribed the government - my home, Isaac, the place where I grew up - not to invite me onto the team." "Jesus Christ." "Yeah." "You think it was to do with the Dubai Air protest as well?" Isaac asks. "Like, this guy made us all look like a bunch of corrupt dickheads, we ain't gonna have him represent our country sort of thing?" Sam's eyes widen, and then slam shut as his head falls back against his locker. "Well I do now." "That's bullshit," Isaac announces. For once, Sam is tempted to agree. Isaac is staring intently at the ground. Finally he looks up and clears his throat with uncharacteristic caution. "Would you have done the same thing? The protest, staying at Richmond - if you knew it was gonna go down like this, I mean?" It's something he's not wanted to ask himself: but there it's been, niggling away like some horrible little imp in the back of his mind. Sam thinks about that photograph hanging on his childhood wall, the feeling he had strolling through the British Museum alongside Edwin. He thinks about running over the beaches of Lagos as a child, how it felt to see those pictures of the destruction and the dying animals on those same beaches. The thrill of returning to the Premier League. The teenagers who'd come up to him in the street, newly arrived and still stumbling over their English, thanking him for speaking out even as the glass was still being swept up at Ola's. Men like Gary Lineker and Ian Wright quoting his tweets on Match of the Day, and the UK government not being able to do anything to stop them. The way his heart had skipped, seeing young men just like him playing on Richmond Green wearing his jersey. "Of course I would," he says finally. "I couldn’t have taken a place on the team if it meant not speaking out." "Right. You wouldn't have been happy just sitting down and shutting up. Or playing for some rich prick who bribes people all the time. And it's totally shit, but - I guess it's, like, the price you've gotta pay right now for doing so much awesome stuff." "I suppose it's worth that." They sit together in companionable silence for a little while. Finally Sam sighs. "I still really want to play for the Nigerian national team though, Isaac." Isaac nods and sets an arm around his shoulders. "You will, bruv. I know you will."

-

For @boasamishipper​. There’s something really interesting about seeing reality ensue when Sam faces the backlash of following his heart - but I’d have loved to get a little scene like this.