#and by that i mean 'simon meets isaac and decides to fuck him because he has a thing for redheads in leather'

[beevean]

Dracula:"Ah, so the new Belmont comes to face me...Isaac?"

Simon:"Who the fuck is Isaac?"

(Simon was the redhead, right?)

It's him lol

My man has a dog collar. Imagine if he and Isaac met.

also bold of you to assume that Dracula would remember Isaac 200 years after his death lol

[its-time-to-write]

i honestly would love to see more of jamie with bea like him deciding to take her to see the team for the first time after she’s born because maybe him and reader wanted some time for themselves and get adjusted before having everyone meet her?

My whole family is out today and I have nothing to do, so I’m going to be answering some requests! And maybe opening up my inbox again

I’m a sucker for requests that ask for continuations of my other fics. Thanks for requesting!

lyrical smile, indigo eyes

How did you become lucky enough to have a baby like this with the absolute love of your life? You were pretty sure that you and Jamie had peaked at marriage, but Beatrice Georgie Tartt just takes the cake. You are exhausted because labor was intense, and Jamie swears if you gripped his hand any tighter you would have shattered it. But you didn’t, and you’re out of the hospital and back at home. Bea is a week and a half old, and there are only four people who have met her, outside of the hospital staff: Georgie, Simon, Roy, and Keeley. Jamie didn’t want you to be overwhelmed by a lot of visitors right after you had Bea, so he asked a favor from Ted, who promised to keep AFC Richmond so busy that they wouldn’t have time to drop in unannounced.

But now Jamie’s getting ready to go back to training, and he wants to take Bea with him before it starts.

“I can take her this Friday, Isaac’s been texting me all week and Coach said he’d end training early,” he says from his place on the living room floor, folding onesie after onesie.

You roll your eyes from the couch with Bea in your arms, half-asleep in the middle of her feeding. 

“You sure you’re up to it, babe? She goes through diapers like crazy. You’re gonna have to bring a brand new pack if you even want to stand half a chance.”

Jamie just grins. “No problem babe, I’m a pro. Ain’t in the Premier League for nothing.”

“Alright,” you say, “I’m coming too, but only to go have girl time with Rebecca and Keeley. Becca says she has some like spa-day stuff for me. Apparently she did all the research into postpartum care.”

Jamie makes a hm, interesting face and Bea lets out a gurgle and wakes herself up.

—

You roll up to Nelson Road at 1pm, diaper bag packed with everything you could possibly need. This is your first time out of the house with Bea, and both you and Jamie are nervous. He’s trying to make you laugh with dumb jokes but your eyebrows are tightly knit together. 

Bea is incredibly tiny, and the Richmond boys are… well, they’re not. You know they can be gentle, but you also know they are capable of getting overexcited way too easily. You nervously fiddle with the toy hanging from Bea’s carseat so Jamie looks at you in the rearview mirror and says, “Babe, relax, it’ll be fine, yeah? They don’t have to hold her or anything, and I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

That calms you down a little. You know Jamie means it. He’ll watch Bea like a hawk, and isn’t afraid to be a prick when it comes to taking care of the people he loves. You take a breath and nod as he pulls into a parking space.

—

The team is on the pitch, so you and Jamie walk out to meet Ted, Roy, and Beard. The boy see you walk up and immediately stop their drills, but Roy shouts “Oi! You lot still have got thirty fucking minutes! Keep fucking going!” So they go back to whatever the heck they’re doing.

Ted says, “Look at this cute little tartlet! Ain’t she just the sweetest thing?” and you can tell by Beard’s reaction that Ted’s been waiting to use that one for a while. 

“I washed and sanitized my hands three minutes ago,” says Roy, “can I hold her?”

That is a little bit surprising. You would have assumed Ted would be the first one to ask, but you suppose he’s Phoebe’s favorite “Uncle Roy,” a reason, so you hand her over with a kiss on her forehead. You kiss Jamie and say, “Bye babe, I’m headed to see Keels and Becca,” then turn on your heel to Rebecca’s office. You’re headed inside when you throw one last glance at Bea, and almost burst out laughing; Jamie’s helping Roy put on the wrap so he can wear Bea while yelling at the team. You look out the window once you make it to the second floor of Nelson Road and see Roy coaching with Bea snugly secured to his chest and Jamie hovering close by. You’re glad today’s drills don’t seem to involve any footballs.

You tap on Rebecca’s door then push it open, and are immediately almost knocked over by Keeley, who has launched herself at you. 

“HI BABE, HOW-FUCKING-ARE YOU?” she squeals, and you wonder if she’s so loud because she was containing herself when she met Bea. You grin and squeeze her back.

“I am so fucking tired and so fucking happy,” you reply. “Hi Bec!!”

Rebecca gets up off the couch and gives you a tight hug as best she can, because Keeley is still holding you.

“It is so wonderful to see you, darling,” she says, “I saw Roy has the baby out on the pitch. She’s going to be kicking a football before she knows how to walk properly.”

You laugh and Keeley says, “Oi, Roy’s got her? Good luck getting her back. If she’s anything like Phoebe she’ll throw a right fit when it’s time to go.”

“I know,” you sigh, “She’s going to have so many aunts and uncles, it’s insane. Not sure where Jaim and I are going to fall on her ranking of favorite people.”

Rebecca smiles and moves to the couch. “Would you like to sit and have some tea? I read there are certain types that help with breastfeeding.”

You grimace. “I would, except sitting is not exactly my favorite right now. But tea sounds wonderful.”

“You can lay down on your stomach, babe,” Keeley says helpfully. “Rebecca and can cuddle and catch you up on everything you’ve missed.”

You say, “That sounds fucking amazing,” and you’re asleep ten minutes into their chattering.

—

You startle awake to the sound of a knock on the door. Rebecca calls, “Come in,” and it takes you a moment to figure out where you are. There’s a blanket draped over you and Rebecca and Keeley are still on the other side of the couch, both furiously typing and scrolling on their laptops.

You rasp, “How long was I out?” as Roy pokes his head in the door. He’s still wearing Bea.

“Twenty minutes,” Rebecca answers. “Keeley and I thought it best to leave you be.” Keeley nods, not looking up from her screen.

Roy clears his throat. “Hi babe!” says Keeley. She half glances up from her screen then does a double take.

“Holy fuck, you look right sexy like that, Kent.”

Roy grins at her. “Don’t get any fucking ideas.”

Keeley says, “Too late. I have so many fucking ideas,” to which you and Rebecca share a disgusted face.

“That’s disgusting, Keeley,” you tease.

“Oi, you’re one to talk!” she returns and Rebecca nods as if to say, she’s got a point. 

“Any-fucking-way,” Roy says, looking at you, “Figured you’d want to be downstairs when the boys meet Bea. They’re changing and getting clean so it’s going to take a fucking minute.”

You nod. “Hey Bec, you wanna hold her?”

Rebecca closes her laptop. “I would absolutely love to.”

Roy growls in a way that means fuck no, but Bea’s your baby so he unwraps her and gently hands her to Rebecca. Bea settles so sweetly into Rebecca’s arms that you swear you want to cry. Stupid hormones.

“Your prick husband is still downstairs bothering Sam and Dani,” Roy says, and you remember oh yeah, I have a prick husband. You get up off the couch.

“I should probably go see him,” you reply. “Becca, you want to come, or..?”

Rebecca is still gazing at Bea, but she nods and stands up, heels discarded on the floor.

You make your way to the locker room to find Jamie surrounded by the team, scrolling through something on his phone.

“…And this is her wearing her Tartt onesie. Here she is with me mum, and this one…” he trails off when he sees you. 

“Hi love!” he says, “Just showing the lads the pictures I got of Bea.”

There’s something about Jamie standing in the middle of the locker room crowded by his team that just makes your heart feel like it’s going to explode. You laugh and bound over to him, throwing your arms around his neck.

“You’re such a dad, Jamie Tartt,” you tell him affectionately, to which he replies, “Learned from the best, didn’t I?” with a glance at Ted.

“Alright,” you say, arms off of Jamie’s neck but now entwined around his left bicep, “who wants to meet Bea officially?” 

Hands go up around the room and to your surprise, they’re all quiet. In scary unison, they move to sit on the benches and hold their hands up, palms facing outward. 

“What the fuck is happening?” you whisper to Beard.

“Ted had a baby-etiquette debrief,” he whispers back. “Inside voices, clean hands, neck support, the whole deal. Had me make a slideshow to back him up.”

Rebecca shakes her head in disbelief as you all watch Isaac make his way around the room, inspecting hands and pronouncing them clean.

Rebecca does not look like she wants to give up Bea, but you tell her you’ll invite her over in a few days, as long as she doesn’t mind a messy house and takeout. She reluctantly hands Bea to Dani, who is beaming so hard you’re worried for his face muscles. 

Jamie, meanwhile, rests his head on yours. 

He leans down and whispers, “Hey babe?”

“Hm?” you respond.

“I’m going to fall asleep standing up. D’you think Bea would be fine if we crashed in Ted’s office?”

You grin. You think Bea would be fine anywhere there’s a member of AFC Richmond.

[its-time-to-write]

ch. 4 - hustling for the good life

table of contents Oh hey it’s Jamie’s side of things

also. I don’t proofread. yes I’m sorry, no I won’t change my ways.

takes one to know one

Here’s the thing. While you’ve been hopping around London, doing interviews and press and meeting all sorts of talented musicians, Jamie’s been doing his own work. Namely, badgering Keeley about his chances with you.

“She’s really pretty,” he confessed in the car on the way home from Isaac and Stella’s. “She’s like, fucking I don’t know, ethereal or some shit.” Keeley’s basically passed out, which is why Jamie is talking so freely. He knows she won’t remember shit. 

“Learned that word the other day,” he continues, “It’s like something you see can can’t totally understand. Or like, out of your league. Anyway, that’s her. Think she was all freaked out, though. Maybe too many people. Weird, innit, international star like her anxious in a crowd of people. But I really liked talking to her. Fuck, Keeley, she’s smart. You can tell in her lyrics.”

Keeley responds with a snore.

Jamie chuckles. “Yeah, alright, we’re almost to Roy’s. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, yeah? Like I said, not like she’d go with someone like me anyway.”

—

Jamie severely underestimated Keeley’s ability to retain juicy gossip. Yeah she was sloshed, so much so that Roy had to carry her inside and onto the bed, but that didn’t stop her from sending Jamie a text the next morning that said, ?????? and a gif of your face.

Jamie replied in kind. ??????

U fucking kno what im asking, Keeley replied. U like her.

Jamie responds, that aint a question, keels

Fine, Keeley writes, here’s one

What the fuck did you mean, ‘someone like me????’

Jamie grimaces and puts his phone down. He’ll respond to that later but now, he has to go running around the field and puke his guts out because Roy’s a fucking sadist.

—

Jamie’s been a fan of your music since, like, your first single. He’s not even sure how he first heard it but he did, and then he’d listen to it when no one could catch him.

Then you started gaining popularity, and it was more acceptable for him to listen to your soft yet upbeat songs. He came home one weekend to find his mum playing Blue Glass on a speaker in the kitchen, and they sat down at the counter and listened to the entire album, not speaking the whole time while Simon puttered around cooking dinner.

He’s followed your career through the trade from Manchester to Richmond, then back to Man City and then Richmond again. 

And yeah, he’s had a little bit of a crush.

But god, there’s no fucking way he has a shot in hell. Sure, he’s the Premier League’s top player, but you? You’re on another level.

Paps don’t even bother trying to slander you anymore because they’ll never find a speck of dirt on you. There are always pictures of you volunteering, or visiting kids in hospitals, or petting dogs or some shit. Stuff that’s usually staged, but with you it isn’t.

You’ve never had a scandal hit the papers, always been spotted out with a famous model/actor/singer boyfriend who has never once been seen cheating on you. Jamie wonders if anyone could even consider cheating on someone with as much talent and kindness as you seem to possess.

Anyway, you’d never go for someone with his relatively checkered past. All you have to do is google “Jamie Tartt,” and there he is, making out with models, headlining cheating scandals, and having sex in fucking jacuzzis.

Yeah, you’d never go for it.

But as he’s at training, running drills and practicing goals, he keeps thinking about the way you looked with your feet in the pool, hair blowing softly in the breeze.

He decides to have a serious chat with Keeley.

—

He turns up to Keeley’s house and fucking Roy’s there, except this time it’s not really a surprise. Roy opens the door, scoffs, then walks away. 

“Prick’s here,” he calls to Keeley somewhere in the house, except it’s not as angry as it used to be. Jamie can almost trick himself into thinking it’s affectionate.

“Hello to you too, grandad,” he says to Roy’s back. Roy grunts and heads to the kitchen, presumably to finish making dinner. 

Keeley bounds down the stairs and wraps Jamie in a hug. “Glad you’re here, babe. Now we can have a good chat.”

She leads him to the couch and hands him a fluffy pink pillow, one that Jamie remembers throwing across the room more than once. Fuck, there’s another reminder why he shouldn’t even be thinking of seeing you again. He couldn’t properly emote when he was with Keeley, so how’s he supposed to navigate a serious relationship?

“Oi, stop overthinking,” Keeley says, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

“Weren’t overthinking,” Jamie replies automatically. “And since when are you a mindreader?” 

Keeley grins at that. “I’m not. Your face was just all twisty and shit, which means you’re actually using your brain for once. So come on, out with it.”

Jamie’s not entirely sure where to begin, but he opens his mouth and everything sort of comes spilling out. How he talked to you for ten seconds and is pretty sure he’ll never actually love again. And he’s convinced himself that he might have a shot but then he’s reminded of all his shitty choices and thinks he’ll never measure up but god fucking damnit, he wants something real and yeah, you’re another celebrity, but there’s something about your eyes or maybe it’s the way you move your hands, but he knows for sure that if you were just a regular girl he saw on the street, he’d feel the exact same way. 

Except neither of you are like, actually regular people, but for different reasons. And his fucking shitbag of a father is always looming in the back of his mind, especially since playing Man City the other week, and he won’t let his dad try to have any sort of hold over you because that would be shitty. So anyway, he’s pretty sure that’s everything and he’s probably going to die alone.

Keeley says, “Whoa,” with big eyes once he’s finished, and for a moment Jamie thinks she’s going to call a mental institute, but then she cocks her head and says, “Jamie, you do know that nothing’s actually happened, right? Like, you haven’t even asked her out?” and Jamie realizes that he’s been knee deep in his mind for a fucking long time.

“I mean, Roy’s no saint,” she continues while Roy shouts, “Oi!” from the kitchen, “and we still got together.”

Jamie just looks at her.

“Alright, bad example,” she says. “But hey, you’ll never know if you don’t try. I mean come on, you’re Jamie fucking Tartt! You’re like, the best footballer in all of England! And you’re right fit,” she says just loud enough for Roy to hear.

“I can’t cook for shit,” Jamie says miserably, and Roy barks out a short laugh while Keeley pats Jamie’s arm.

“You’re way too far in your fucking head, babe,” she says sympathetically. “Take it one day at a time, yeah? You don’t even know if you’ll see her again.”

table of contents