#embarrassed jamie

[moonlitdark]

They're not wrong.......

[phonyroni]

I made more stupid doodles because uh... This game is my new hyperfixation I'm so sorry to everyone who knows me-

(Percy is just like me and that's a bit scary, we're just the same fucking guy)

[morganrielly]

[atorionsbelt]

buddie vs royjamie

oh!

[dadstielkline]

[galacticlamps]

Jamie + Zoe textposts, not because they even vaguely relate to anything going on in canon, just because they have a very memeable dynamic & their screenshots pair well with the humor on this website

[harvardhaugland]

playing with his hair - jamie ♡

a/n: not my first smut ive written but rather posted! once again feel free to send me sf6 related prompts or something jhejrhjrbr

jamie is rather subby in this… hmm yes… massaging his scalp or playing with his hair would be a weak spot for him i think. like when u scratch behind a cats ears… anyways nsfw below the cut vv

You’d never really seen Jamie as the type to get stressed out often— but on rare occasions, being known as a “peacekeeper” around the city keeps him too occupied to the point where it’s hard for him to keep some time in to enjoy himself.

He comes over to your place on days like these, beg you to take care of him, massage him where he’s sore.

Jamie shrugs off his jacket, laying his head on your lap and stretching out across the couch like a cat. he’ll let you slowly untangle his hair, carding your fingers through it once it’s let down and loose.

When you slowly massage your fingers into his scalp— he lets out this drawn out groan of relief. He bumps his head up against your hand, silently encouraging you to keep going. It’s almost like he was teasing you right now. His pants are down low enough to show his v-line, you could almost see the outline of his dick through them.

He’s tempting you, when you move your hand to his chest, squeezing his pec.

“You mind taking care of something else too—?” he asks, his fingers play with the hem of his pants. There’s a scheming look on his face. As if he had this sort of thing on his mind all day, so you oblige him. Your hands slide down his body, tracing the outline of his stomach, your thumb rubs the ridge of his pelvis and you start to snake your way under the waistband of his underwear.

You can feel him writhe under you, excited. His muscles tense when you finally break the waistband— relaxing when he feels your touch on his actual skin.

“You always want too much from me.” you joke, one hand wrapped in his hair, the other wrapped around the length of his erection, slowly stroking him. Jamie would usually retort back at that, sassy like he usually was. But this time he won’t even quip back, instead he simply sucks in the air through his teeth, letting out another soft moan. He’s so much like a cat, it makes you laugh a little.

He’s so painfully hard in your hand, his back is arched and precum leaks from the tip of his cock. You circle your thumb around his tip— he lets out a particularly loud, needy whimper. It makes you rub his head to soothe him.

“You’re so sensitive today.” you let out a tiny chuckle.

“God, you’re killin’ me here.” he says, quiet and breathy. His breath hitching when you speed up the pace. He’s rutting his hips up into your hand, fast. His cock twitches. You decide to lightly yank on his hair to get him to slow down and savor the moment. He gasps, letting out a whine, “Baby..” he pouts. Jamie looks up at you, pleadingly.

“Calm down before you get a cramp.” you remind him, “You’re supposed to relax. Remember?”

He nods. His face red, hot and bothered. He has his hands bunched up into the fabric of the couch, “Can I cum? Please?” he begs, his voice is strained, his cock twitches as you continue the same slow pace of stroking. It’s fun to see him like this, he seems to be enjoying it as much as you do. You continue on to slowly pump his cock, building up and speeding up the pace of your hand.

Your other hand is still in his messy hair, snaking around to cup his face, your fingers run over his lips— Jamie’s mouth is parted open, he pants, trying to catch up with the speed of your hand. He repeats your name, over and over like a chant.

It takes some thought, but it’s his day today, not yours, “Go ahead baby, you’ve earned it.”

He lets it all go, making a mess all over his stomach, and your hands. Jamie lets out one big breath of air, collapsing in exhaustion. He looks up at you with a pleased smile, “You are..” he breathes in, “The best student I’ve ever trained.” Jamie chuckles.

[puppypeter]

[honestlydarkprincess]

i hereby give this fictional man the ultimate stamp of approval (babygirl status)

[wistaliia]

studying how to draw cove

[catastrophicbleus]

Can we all agree that "shite in nining armour" is Jamie? He's Richmond's No.9, Roy called him a piece of shit in 1x04, and Beard once called him a "poop in the punch bowl". Then, obviously, there's the fact that it's a play on "knight in shining armour" implying, I think, that Jamie - who's finally the best version of himself on and off the pitch thanks to Ted, Keeley, and Roy - is going to save Richmond when Zava inevitably disappoints them.

[howdyrowdypartner]

My obsession with Phil Dunster’s tongue cannot, under any circumstances, be considered healthy

[clustermuck]

I know there’s been a lot of discussion on whether or not people will have kept their core personalities from the TV show into the reboot movie (i.e. Quinn is still a delightful nerd with her Quinnventions and random facts - even though she’s now blonde and wears contacts).

BUT considering how much of a jerk Logan used to be, I would absolutely LOVE to see Logan have gone from jerk stud to absolute SIMP HIMBO for Quinn. Like, he can keep his “dumb” persona, but I hope his attitude has morphed into a kinder person who is just head-over-heels for Quinn and has continued to be a better person because of her (which, I mean, we already saw him become a kinder person though the series and especially season 4 as he was dating Quinn.)

I mean - COME ON! This promo shot alone is enough to convince me that he’s gonna just be just goo-goo-ga-ga for Quinn — and in public now! Yaaas! We’ll finally SEE their relationship in front of their friends!

TL;DR: this promo pic is giving “Logan is a total himbo simp for Quinn” and I am ABSOLUTELY here for it

[billyrussoapologist]

[atorionsbelt]

was def surprised when the roy / jamie boot room breakdown scene was used for comic relief, instead of a quiet achingly heartwarming melancholy tone like i had hoped….. but maybe that’s exactly why they switched it up on us, keeping us on our toes as always. and my biggest bet is, since they still submit for best series in comedy category, phil needed a wtf moment where the audience is torn between laughing and feeling bad for jamie! really show off his ability to switch up fast. to keep a straight face balancing that desperate humor while becoming pitifully unhinged and inconsolable is emmy worthy alone

[nahoyasboyfriend]

You sit at the small table, staring blankly at a stain on the table. You trace circles onto the skin of your knee, a habit you picked up sometime in middle school. It was supposed to soothe you, usually does, it doesn't work now though. You don't stop in hope that it magically works. You don't open your mouth. Praying that if you sit in silence long enough he'll leave.

He won't, he never does.

"what are you scared of?" Moonjo asks, unceremoniously. Breaking the ice that should have long melted after so many unwanted encounters with each other. Seemingly ignoring the immediate unease that his mere presence sets off within you. If your assumptions are correct, he likely enjoys it, relishing in your obvious distress.

Your mouth twitches downwards, eyes darting up to finally look at him. Staring into the gaping black in his eyes always causes your stomach to churn.

Feebly, you reply, "you."

He shakes his head lightly, leaning closer to you, arms coming to rest on the table. Pale fingers interlocking with each other.

"No, that's not what you're afraid of," He corrects you, voice surprisingly gentle, like you're a misguided child. He smiles, baring rows of straight pearly white teeth. Makes the spit in your mouth turn thick, you swallow hard.

"then what?" it's more a plea, than a question. It's odd not being able to successfully comprehend your own feelings, even worse when there's a gut-wrenching that the only person who might understand is the genesis of it. For a second, he doesn't respond, leaving you to agonize in your rumination. Leering at you with a look that was all too knowing. No doubt, savoring the way despair is seeping out of your every pore.

"you're scared of yourself. You're afraid of changing, of what you're becoming. You think that this place has infected you. That I've ruined you. But deep down, jagiya, you know that's not the case."

"That's not..." Is all you can muster. A poor excuse that makes you wince after it slips out. He chuckles, smile widening just enough to show the sharp point of his gums. It's a grating sound coming straight from his throat. It's uncharacteristically ugly. Completely unbefitting of a pretty face like his, but you find it fits him perfectly after everything he puts you through.

The sound makes you queasy. You already feel horrible, but it makes it worse somehow. The room begins to spin around you, head feeling like it's about to tip over & all your coherent thoughts will spill onto the floor. You need to get out of here and lie down, decompress or whatnot. The lights feel brighter, like they're trying to blind you. Heart thumping against your ribcage so hard it makes your chest throb. He doesn't say anything else, but you can feel his eyes on you as you push yourself up out of your chair. Unwavering, unblinking— probably all-knowing, reading every thought that's running through your aching head. You hope he can feel the hatred that flares up within your soul like wildfire. You wish it would set him ablaze with the rest of the raggedy building and all the people in it.

Instead, you're met with the blurry image of his sneering face in your peripheral as you retreat to your room like a wounded animal. When you curl up in the uncomfortable firmness of your bed, you find it's easier to convince yourself his words aren't even remotely true when his disgustingly all-seeing eyes aren't peeling back the layers of your stupid, guilty soul.