#I miss living near Richmond

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Devil You Don’t

Plot: Y/n considers making a change and Richmond squares off against West Ham United.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: Missed therapy today, finished this. Silver linings, everybody…lol

—————

Y/n sat at her dining room table, staring at a single piece of mail. It was from her rental company. They were informing her that it was that magical time of year. She could either choose to sign for another year or vacate. It was a decision she’d been putting off making.

Living in downtown London didn’t make much sense now that she worked at Richmond. The commute was longer and God help it if there was traffic. Y/n lacked the social life she’d had in college and she had no partner to stay near.

There was no longer anything tying her there.

Moving to Richmond meant she was fully committing to the club. She’d kept one foot out the door since arriving, knowing that things could go downhill at any moment. But it had been nearly three months and, though challenging, she had no reason to leave or believe she’d be fired. Was it time to stop holding her breath?

She couldn’t make a decision from her apartment. She had to get out.

Grabbing her keys and purse, Y/n left her building and hopped in her car. She made the drive to the last place she’d expected to be on her day off, but the only place she felt like being.

In the heart of Richmond, Y/n parked on the curb, just near the Crown and Anchor. There was a coffee shop around the corner from it that Keeley had recommended to her. It seemed as good a time as ever to try it and take a stroll around the neighborhood.

Something about Richmond that differed from London was the atmosphere. It felt very small-townish, while still being a decent sized borough. The people were kind, greeting each other as they walked past. Men tipped their caps. Children ran free in the park. Couples strolled hand in hand. Y/n had never been a Hallmark movie kind of girl, but it felt like the only comparison to be made. The city seemed to wrap its arms around its people, giving them a safe place to end each day.

Sipping what turned out to be one of the best coffees she’d ever had, Y/n contemplated it all. All practicality aside, and she could barely admit it herself, but she almost, kind of, sort of, possibly, maybe…wanted to live in Richmond.

She made her way towards the park, watching kids burn off their weekend energy and families taking their infants on morning walks. What she hadn’t expected to see was anyone she knew. A few feet away, Jamie was doing sets of burpees while Roy sat and watched. Out of politeness, Y/n had nearly approached when Jamie bent over, letting the contents of his stomach empty.

Roy sensed someone was near and twisted to find Y/n standing behind him. As awful sounds escaped Jamie, his coach smiled, as much as Roy Kent did smile, and nodded, “Morning.”

Y/n watched the scene with reserved concern and wild confusion. “Should I be worried about any of this?”

“No,” Roy answered, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich in the most unbothered fashion, “He’s fine.”

Jamie’s body finally let him breathe and he glanced up, spotting Y/n. He gave her a quick nod before resuming his workout.

Y/n’s brows stayed creased as she raised her coffee cup to them, toasting the strange moment. “Okay,” she said, leaving them to the rest of their day.

There was a part of her brain that told Y/n it was crazy to move even a mile closer to the insanity that was AFC Richmond. Living further away gave her a barrier, an extra layer of protection. If she came to live there, she’d lose it.

And the other part of her mind decided that, much like with the job, it might be worth putting up with.

—————————

The next day, Y/n stopped by the KJPR office to grab some papers from Keeley. Something about an endorsement deal for one of the boys.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you,” Keeley said before Y/n headed back out, “Our backer’s coming to town and wants to come to the West Ham match.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, “Great.”

“And they want to meet us,” Keeley continued.

“Okay,” Y/n repeated with a shrug.

Keeley paused, waiting for some reaction that Y/n wasn’t giving her. “And I’m sort of freaking the fuck out,” she finished.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Y/n asked, holding the folder of papers to her chest, “Corporate bigwigs are all the same. They’re barely even interested in meeting the people that make them rich.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never met any,” Keeley gestured to herself, “This is all new and I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear or say or do.”

As much as Y/n knew Keeley and her came from different backgrounds, they’d developed such a solid work relationship that Y/n sometimes forgot she’d never functioned in the corporate world.

“Look,” Y/n said softly, taking a seat across from Keeley, “It’s polite chitchat, making sure they’re having a good time and maybe dodging a few bad attempts at flirting if it’s an older guy.”

Keeley’s pouted lips finally cracked and she chuckled.

“It’s not a big deal,” Y/n reassured, “Really. Just be you and you’ll charm the metaphorical pants off of them.”

Keeley smiled as she reached over the desk and threw her arms around Y/n’s neck. Y/n nearly stumbled in her heels and grabbed onto Keeley for balance.

“Thank you,” Keeley said over Y/n’s shoulder.

A hug certainly crossed all professional boundaries Y/n had set up. But Keeley needed comfort more than Y/n needed to feel protected, so she patted her boss’s back and let it happen.

—————————

The big day had arrived.

Richmond vs. West Ham.

Y/n was up early, even though the match wasn’t till the afternoon. She went for a morning run, got a tea and returned home where there was nothing to do but anxiously fidget till it was time to get ready.

This wasn’t just Greyhounds against Hammers. This was Rebecca against Rupert. Ted, Beard and Roy against Nathan. All of AFC Richmond was being watched. And while Y/n was practically invisible, she was feeling the same pit in her stomach as if the tabloids were speculating about her.

Pulling up to the stadium, Y/n was in awe of its size. It was at least three Nelson Road Stadiums. She headed through the side entrance where VIPs and press came through and spotted Rebecca and Keeley waiting for her.

“Alright,” Y/n announced her presence as she passed through the metal detector, “Here we go.”

Keeley turned to Y/n, “You think I look alright, yeah? Good enough to impress Jack?”

Y/n scanned Keeley’s outfit, it was one of the first times she’d seen her out of her signature shade of pink. “You look great,” she replied.

“Shit, I’m nervous,” Keeley confided in the two women, “I think I need to go and reapply my lip liner.”

Something about the way Rebecca nodded and told Keeley they’d see her in the suite told Y/n there was more to her words.

“Men can have codes for the loo,” Rebecca shrugged, sensing Y/n had picked up on it, “Why can’t we?”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Y/n’s head whipped around to follow Keeley.

The two women shared a laugh before turning towards the escalator. Rebecca froze after her first step step and Y/n bumped into her, grabbing onto her boss to barely keep her balance.

“Hey, Rebecca,” Rupert greeted, a gorgeous, young blonde on his arm.

“Rupert,” Rebecca was quick to reply.

Y/n caught herself before she gave her shock away. This was Rupert?

“Wonderful to see you,” the man replied warmly, undertones of ice seeping through.

“Bex,” Rebecca nodded to her replacement, “Love the new hair.”

“I haven’t changed my hair,” Bex replied in confusion.

“Nor should you,” Rebecca saved herself, “It’s perfection. Uh, may I introduce our newest member of AFC Richmond,” she gestured to Y/n, “This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n.”

Y/n hesitatingly stepped forward, trying to mask her disdain under a smile. “Lovely to meet you,” she shook Bex’s hand first before Rupert’s.

“Lovely to meet you,” Rupert replied, his eyes sliding down Y/n’s figure before coming back up to meet her eyes, “How are you liking Richmond?”

Any negative thoughts Y/n had about the job or her co-workers left her head. No ammunition could be given, nor was she going to let the man who was checking her out while holding his wife’s hand feel validated in anything.

“It’s exceeding all my expectations,” Y/n lied with a grin that could have fooled anyone.

“Ah,” Rupert smiled back, watching his ex-wife’s new hire like a bird did its prey.

Rebecca could sense the additional discomfort and changed the subject. “So, how’s the little one?”

“Oh yeah, Diane,” Rupert replied proudly, nearly coaxing a liquid-less spit take from Y/n, “She’s already walking. Can you believe that? Yeah, drooling and pooing around the house.”

“Takes after her father,” Bex spoke up.

Rebecca managed to maintain her composure better than Y/n, who made sure to share the laugh with Bex.

Rupert looked less than thrilled with the joke and moved on quickly. “Well. Hey,” he looked back to his ex-wife, “Take it easy on us today.”

“No promises,” Rebecca said as the couple walked off.

Standing a bit awestruck at the barely concealed audacity of Rupert, Y/n stood beside her boss, trying to process the interaction.

“Thoughts?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n paused to think over her reply, “I feel like I need to strip out of my skin.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca breathed, “That’s about right. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed for the elevator up to the suites. While riding up, Y/n said a prayer to the higher power of football that the Greyhounds would be particularly ruthless on the pitch. A man like Rupert could not be allowed a win.

Up in the suites, Rebecca and Y/n spotted Higgins standing with Barbara, Shandy and a short haired brunette woman.

“Ah, Y/n, Rebecca,” Higgins flagged them down, “May I introduce, Ms. Jack Danvers.”

Once again, just barely concealing her surprise, Y/n immediately went into business mode, firmly shaking Jack’s hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Jack,” she smiled.

“You as well,” Jack replied, her lips forming an ‘o’ after, “You wouldn’t happen to be the same Y/n that headed up the managerial team at Microdom, would you?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I would be.”

Jack chuckled, “Gary Lawson’s a family friend. He sang your praises over a dinner once.”

“Well, nothing pairs better with red wine and chicken than talking about your employees,” Y/n quipped, dropping Jack’s hand.

“On the contrary,” Jack smiled, “I feel much better knowing the money’s going toward hard-working hands.”

“Hard-working,” Barbara spoke up, grinning uncharacteristically big, “Absolutely. She’s a wonder.”

Out of all the odd moments so far in the day, a cheery Barbara was the strangest, Y/n decided.

“Oh, yes,” Rebecca placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, “Y/n is extraordinary. One of our hardest workers.”

Y/n smiled up at Rebecca, she wasn’t used to her bosses being so willing to help facilitate her success.

“Well, Keeley’s really the one you need to meet,” Y/n passed the kindness on, “The brain behind the whole operation.”

“She’s absolutely fantastic,” Rebecca added.

“Oh, here she is now,” Barbara grinned.

Y/n and Rebecca split to make room for Keeley.

“Keeley?” Barbara gestured to her boss, “This is Jack Danvers.”

“Hello,” Jack stepped forward, “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Oh, fuck,” Keeley exclaimed, “You’re Jack? This is a bit embarrassing.”

Y/n could only imagine what that meant.

“Yeah, we all thought you were a man,” Shandy interjected.

“Yeah, that too,” Keeley agreed.

“It’s like that old riddle,” Higgins added.

“What riddle?” Rebecca asked.

“You know, always a tricky one, this one,” Higgins continued, “A father and son are in a car wreck. Dad dies instantly, the son is rushed to an emergency room. A surgeon walks in and says, ‘I can’t operate on this boy. He’s my son.’ How is it possible?”

The women all gave various answers, none of which Higgins had been waiting for.

“Right, yeah, I guess that’s a bit dated now,” Higgins recovered, “So, I assume ‘Jack’ is short for Jacqueline right?”

“No, it’s short for my father wanted a boy,” Jack answered.

0 for 2, Higgins turned to the group, “I’m gonna go and sit down now, outside. Now.”

Y/n stifled a laugh while Rebecca invited Jack to get a drink, Barbara trailing very close behind them. Y/n hung back with Keeley and Shandy.

“Barbara’s obsessed with Rebecca,” Shandy leaned in to tell them, “I hope she doesn’t try and kill her and wear her skin as a suit.”

Shandy raised a knowing eyebrow before heading off to join the women at the bar, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

“What the fuck?” Keeley whispered.

“Hey,” Y/n nudged Keeley with her elbow, “Breathe.”

Keeley squeezed Y/n’s arm in silent thanks as they went off together.

—————————

It wasn’t until the Greyhounds came onto the pitch that Y/n truly felt the sympathy nerves. Finally enjoying attending the matches mixed with finally having experienced Rupert’s arrogance and assholery had sparked a flame within her. It was a fraction, she suspected, of what Rebecca felt.

Throughout the game, Richmond held their own, but couldn’t seem to get past the Hammer’s defense. Zoreaux, who was going by Van Damme for unknown reasons, managed to block a goal. At one point, Jamie attempted to make a goal himself when it was clear an extra pass should have been made to Zava.

“Zava was wide open,” Rebecca exclaimed as the ball bounced off the net.

Y/n sighed, remembering her and Jamie’s conversation earlier in the week. That one was entirely on him.

Nearing the end of the first half, the Hammers managed to sneak one more goal past the Greyhounds, securing a 2-0 score. Y/n watched Ted, Coach Beard and Roy panic from their side of the field while Nate Shelley screamed in victory.

“Shit,” Y/n muttered, sinking back in her seat. She glanced out the corner of her eye to where Rebecca’s eyes were trained to see Rupert, arrogantly giving a shrug.

Rebecca grabbed her purse and stood to her feet, purpose in her movement. “Excuse me,” she growled.

Y/n tucked herself in as her boss stalked down the aisle, she knew better than to stand in Rebecca’s way when she was on the hunt.

Halftime passed with polite conversation between the KJPR team. A perky Barbara was something neither Keeley or Y/n were used to, but they adjusted. Most of the time, Y/n was spent in anxious hope that Shandy wouldn’t say too much and plant any seeds of doubt in Jack’s head about the company’s abilities.

When Rebecca returned, she looked to be in much better spirits. Y/n waited expectantly for an answer, Rebecca simply smiled and settled back into her seat.

The coaches returned to the pitch.

West Ham next.

Then Richmond.

Even with a great distance between them, the anger was visible in each of the Greyhound’s posture. They stalked past Nate, their former kitman, as if they were just barely holding themselves back from jumping the man. The moment was ripe with every kind of bad energy.

Then it got worse.

The Greyhounds became feral on the pitch. They were straight up attacking the Hammers, earning themselves red card after red card.

“What the fuck?” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t the type of ruthless she’d wanted them to be.

Dani, the human embodiment of sunshine, was practically spitting on the other players. Sam, an actual angel, got uncharacteristically aggressive. Richard downright hurled the ball at one of the Hammers. Isaac had to rip him away. Richmond had lost three players due to the display of pure rage.

Y/n glanced down at the coaches as Isaac proceeded to shove one of the Hammers to the ground. Ted had his head in his hands. Nate Shelley was looking on smugly. What the hell had happened during halftime to inspire this behavior?

Finally, the match came to an end, 4-1. Zava had managed to score one goal and West Ham had snuck in two more amidst the chaos.

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered, spotting Rupert victoriously hugging his wife while locking eyes with his ex, “Shit. Shit.”

Keeley tried to stop Rebecca from leaving, but she needed to be alone to lick her wounds. Y/n glanced over to Higgins who puffed out his cheeks with a heavy breath.

“Right,” Y/n turned to Keeley, who was trying to make cheery conversation with Jack and Barbara, “Want me to handle interviews?”

“You sure?” Keeley asked.

“You stay here,” she nodded towards Jack, who was talking to Barbara, “Make us look good. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yeah, probably best,” Keeley agreed, “Thank you.”

Higgins and Y/n set off downstairs to the locker room to collect the players they needed.

“Probably best not to pick any of the boys that got red carded,” Higgins suggested as they headed down the hall.

“Oh, I’m not picking any of them,” Y/n retorted with barely concealed frustration. She knocked on the door and opened it a crack, “Everybody dressed?”

When there was no reply, she opened the door and took a step in, coming face to face with the team. They were all wallowing in various degrees of shame and rage.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted said, lacking his usual enthusiasm, “Who do you need?”

Y/n scanned the faces that cheerfully greeted her each day. Some, like Colin and Sam, avoided her watchful gaze. Jamie watched her expectantly. Quite frankly, she didn’t feel like dealing with any of them.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Do you mind?”

“I do not,” he replied, rising and joining Y/n in the doorway. He didn’t leave until he looked back on the team once more, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. Y/n didn’t bother to hide her dismay either as she shut the door.

—————————

With Zava having done his interviews and Ted having addressed the press himself, Y/n could retire for the day, though relaxing was a ways off.

She came back to join Keeley and Jack, who were sipping champagne and chatting. Hopefully Keeley had made them look a lot better than what they’d presented.

“All good?” Keeley asked.

“As good as we can be,” Y/n answered, coming to stand beside Jack, “Whatever Keeley’s told you about how the team usually carries themselves, I’d like to second it.”

“Loud and clear,” Jack smiled.

Shandy came through the press room door, “Well, that was a shit show. Anyway, good news. Bantr’s trending.”

“It is?” Keeley asked.

“Yeah,” Shandy answered, “Pretty sure the change to the bio line helped.”

“Wait,” Y/n interrupted, exhausted by the day, “We changed the bio line?”

Keeley looked just as surprised as Shandy held up her phone. Her eyes widened as she took the mobile, before passing it to Y/n.

It read: Wanna Bang a Celebrity?

“Wha…” Y/n failed to form words.

“Who did this?” Keeley asked.

“I did,” Shandy answered proudly, “This afternoon after I uploaded the vids. You’re welcome.”

Y/n was too tired to mask her horror, she didn’t even have the strength to try. As Keeley tugged Shandy a few feet away, Y/n stayed beside Jack and lifted the corners of her mouth.

“We’re, uh, all a little off today,” she explained.

“Well, you’re hiding it very well,” Jack whispered, lightening the mood.

As soon as she saw Shandy’s face change from pride to offense, Y/n knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She was frustrated, tired and had plans for the night that needed her more.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she bade Jack farewell, “Give Gary my best.”

“You as well,” Jack smiled. The one takeaway from the day was at least KJPR’s backer wasn’t an asshole.

Y/n nodded to Keeley and avoided eye contact with Shandy as she left the press room, hastening her steps as soon as she was out of the room.

—————————

There was an unspoken understanding at the Crown and Anchor. It filled each weekend Richmond played. If they won, it would stay busy all night. If they lost, it emptied as soon as the tabs had been settled.

Suffice it to say, Y/n was sitting in near solitude.

She sat at the bar, picking at an order of chips and going through one-sheets. There were a surprising amount of apartments available in Richmond and she was overwhelmed by the options.

“All good, love?”

Y/n looked up to Mae, who was bringing her a fresh glass of water. “If you’re referring to the food, it’s great. If you’re referring to the-“

“We’re not speaking of that,” Mae interrupted, shutting the topic of the match down. Y/n had come to learn the bar owner took her Greyhound games as serious as life itself.

“I won’t fight you,” Y/n replied, going back to flipping through her papers.

“See you’re looking for a place,” Mae pointed towards the sheets, “I take it the job’s working out okay.”

Y/n snorted, “All evidence contrary to today, yes, it’s working out.”

“I told you,” Mae said with the pride of someone who knew how wise she was, “Just had to give it time.”

Y/n laughed a little, “I’ll learn to trust you eventually.”

Mae matter-of-factly nodded before leaving her patron be.

Y/n flipped through a few more papers, each property bleeding into the other till they all looked the same. She was ready to let her head drop to the counter when the papers in her hands suddenly became illuminated. She traced the light behind her, coming face to face with a blinding bulb.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n cursed, covering her eyes. She rubbed them until she could see again, Jamie’s silhouette coming into view, “What are you wearing?”

“Can’t run if I can’t see,” Jamie answered without feeling like like any further explanation was necessary.

“Why are you running at 8 o’clock?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“Three workouts a day,” Jamie replied, “Roy’s got us starting at 4AM.”

“Well, there’s light in here, so…” Y/n gestured around them.

Jamie switched off the headband’s lamp and took it off, smoothing his hair down after. He pointed to the stool beside Y/n, “You waitin’ on anyone?”

“Please,” Y/n gestured to the spot, she was too tired to fight against company.

The pub was quiet enough that the chances of Jamie being spotted didn’t require him to hide in a booth.

“I’m assuming this unholy schedule doesn’t pertain to the whole team?” Y/n asked, already suspecting Jamie’s motivation.

“Eh, no,” he answered, crossing his arms across the bar, “Just me.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied just as Jamie flagged Mae down and asked for a water.

“Roy’s got me on a diet,” he explained when he caught the confusion on Y/n’s face, “Only one drink and only if we win a match.”

The five letter word had them finally meeting one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to address the benched elephant in the room.

“Right,” Y/n let the sheets in her hand fall on the counter, “What the fuck happened today?”

Jamie exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. There was so much history behind the events of the match, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“You know that sign in the locker room?” Jamie gestured to the space above them, “Above the coach’s office?”

“The ‘Believe’ one?” Y/n replied.

“Yeah,” Jamie folded his arms again, “So…it’s a whole thing but, it means a lot. And when Nate left,” he inhaled to go over that bit of the past, but Y/n stopped him.

“I know who Nate is,” she said. His smug smile was still burned into her brain from earlier in the day.

“Right, so,” Jamie sighed, his tongue poking at his cheek in frustration, “We won last season, Nate stormed out and quit. But Roy and Beard put on this video for us during halftime of him…tearin’ up the sign.”

Y/n rested her head on her hand, listening intently.

“And…” Jamie grasped at the air, “It’s a big deal. To us. To the team. And I think we all just feel…” he paused, “Fuckin’ betrayed or somethin’. That he turned on us. But that sign…” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’….”

During her various trips to the locker room, Y/n had noticed the yellow and blue paper. She hadn’t thought anything of it, just another motivational decoration. She hadn’t realized that it held such a deep meaning to the team.

“So the solution was to get…” Y/n shrugged, “What was it, four red cards?”

“Hey,” Jamie pressed three fingers to his chest, “None of ‘em were me.”

Y/n chuckled, Jamie had managed to stay on the field the entire time. She suspected that might not have been the case a few years prior.

“I get it,” Y/n nodded, “Team loyalty. I mean, I think we’d all have preferred you channeled your anger a little more productively, but…”

Jamie bobbed his head, shame over how they’d dealt with their feelings had begun to set in over the last few hours. But he still couldn’t say he regretted it. Not fully.

“Well, Sky Sports is going to have a field day with you all,” Y/n sighed as she fished through her chips.

“All they’ll be talkin’ about is Zava,” Jamie made his voice more nasally when he uttered the name, “Since he’s the only one of us you wanted today.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow at him, “Well, I was slightly worried that Isaac might dropkick the camera man or Dani might bite a journalist or something.”

Jamie twisted his lips, half-smiling. He couldn’t fault her that.

“Let’s just categorize this day in the ‘suck’ column and move on,” Y/n said, slipping a one-sheet to the back of her pile.

“I’ll second that,” Jamie agreed, stretching his neck to look at the papers, “What’re you looking for a place?”

“Yeah, figured since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Y/n tried to organize the pile somewhat, “Might as well cut down on the commute.”

Jamie held out his hand for the paper in Y/n’s. He examined the square footage, but mostly the street name.

“Oh, this is a shit area,” he commented, reaching for the Sharpie Y/n had laying nearby.

“I don’t think there are shit areas of Richmond,” Y/n shot back, watching as Jamie made a large ‘x’ across the picture of the apartment, “Wait, what-“

“I’m saving you from overpaying for a crap flat,” Jamie capped the marker and gestured for the other sheets, “Lemme see the others.”

Y/n looked between him and the pile, confused as to what was happening.

“C’mon,” Jamie wiggled his fingers.

She slid half the stack across the bar to him, keeping the other half for herself.

Jamie began to read the details of the first listing over. “This one’s on the other side of town,” he stated.

“I don’t care about that,” Y/n replied, “So long as it’s in town. Plus, it’s got a balcony.”

Jamie held up the next paper and compared the two. “This one’s shit too,” he reached for the marker again, predicting Y/n’s reaction, “Just trust me.”

The two of them sat at the bar, scooting their stools together until the pile had been thinned out and the day had ended more pleasantly than it began.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #rebecca welton x reader #keeley jones x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

[writeroutoftime]

I literally love Jamie so much 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼 saw your post asking for stuff for Jamie and after mom city all I can think about is Jamie bring reader to meet his mum in Manchester; she just absolutely fawns over the first girl he’s ever brought home 🥲

pairing: jamie tart x reader (no pronouns used)

words: 1k

a/n: mom city was such an amazing look into jamie's character, and I loved it so so much!! and we all know jamie's mum would love to get to know anyone that he brings home!! please enjoy, lovely!

oOoOo

Hand in hand with Jamie you made your way down the residential street, your heart pounding faster and faster the close you got. It was not lost on you how monumental it was that Jamie had asked you to come and meet his mum and her husband. You knew how much Jamie adored his mother, and it warmed your heart to know Jamie wanted these two parts of his world to collide.

Just as Jamie reached to open the door, your hand shot out and grabbed him, suddenly frozen with fear. "Hey, what's up, love?"

"It's just, what if she hates me, Jamie? I mean your mum means so much to you, and I don't want to be the person who comes between that. And then," you began to ramble until Jamie cut you off.

He gently placed his hands on your cheeks and stared directly into your eyes. "My mum's gonna love you, okay? I promise there is nothing to worry about. In fact, she's been bugging me to bring you 'round for quite a while now."

You smiled as his words washed over you and let your eyes flutter closed for a moment. The warmth of Jamie's hand and the sincerity of his words helped you to take a breath and relax. When you opened your eyes again, you nodded and allowed Jamie to ring the doorbell.

There was barely a moment delay before the door swung open to reveal a man who beamed at you and Jamie. "Oh, welcome! You must y/n, I'm Simon." he introduced, pulling the oven mitts of his hands to shake your hand.

He ushered you and Jamie inside, shutting the door behind you, giving Jamie a quick hug. Immediately, you were struck by how warm the house felt. Not necessarily in temperature, but by the greeting, and the way you can tell the house was truly one that was lived in and experienced love.

You began to stroll through the halls of the home and took everything in with a soft smile on your face. From the wallpaper, to the pictures, and the other decorations scatter about, they all offered you a glimpse into what it must have been like for Jamie growing up.

Eventually, you wandered into the living room where it was near impossible to miss the display of Jamie's photos that lined the table against the wall. Your eyes briefly caught some of his more recent photographs of his time at Richmond, but you gravitated towards the pictures that showed you Jamie as he was growing up.

You carefully picked up a particular photo where Jamie couldn't have been more than eight or nine. His smile was infectious, and you could see the stars in his eyes as he was doing what he loved. Before you could grab another photo, you heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Jamie's mum watching you intently.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry, I just couldn't help myself." you rushed to explain, not wanting to upset Jamie's mum before you had been properly introduced. "I just love seeing him so carefree in these photos."

Instead of responding, she moved forward and threw her arms around you, hugging you quite tightly. "I do too." she confessed, before pulling back to get a good look at you. "Oh, it's so lovely to finally meet you! Call me, Georgie." she insisted. "Jamie's been going on and on about you. It's so nice to finally meet you!" she gushed, ushering you to sit down.

"Mum." a voice whined from the entry to the living room, but Jamie had a small on his face that gave away his joy.

He walked into the room and sat next to his mum, leaning into her touch. You watched as Jamie melted against her, closing his eyes as she gently ran her fingers through his hair.

The time seemed to fly by as the four of you shared stories, laughed, and came together under your shared love for Jamie. The amount of stories Georgie shared with you of Jamie growing up were something you knew you'd never forget.

"I swear," she started, already laughing. "he told me he wanted to dress up as Roy Kent for Halloween."

You fell to the side of the couch, clutching your stomach, as you couldn't stop laughing. "Oh, that's just too good. Jamie, wait 'till Roy gets a load of that."

"Eh, he won't be hearing that from anyone. What happens in this room stays in this room." he tried to argue through the red blush that spread across his cheeks.

Before you knew it, you and Jamie had been with his family for hours and the sun had long set. With an early start for Jamie the next morning, the two of you began to collect your things and said goodbye. Simon offered you a hug goodbye, and you made sure he knew how wonderful all of his food was as you began to walk outside.

You watched from a distance with a smile on your face as Jamie said goodbye to his mother. It might have shocked many people to watch how soft and sincere he was with her, but it didn't surprise you in the least. Deep down, Jamie always was a sweetheart. He showed you that side, and now you got to see him demonstrate that with his mum.

With one last kiss to her cheek, Jamie pulled away and walked to you, quickly grabbing hold of your hand. "Ready to go, love?"

As you opened your mouth to respond, you bit your lip instead and gave Jamie a one second sign before running back to where Simon and Georgie stood near their front door. Nervously, you slowed down in front of Georgie and threw your arms around her tightly.

"Thank you." you spoke so only she could ear.

She pulled back and cocked her head to the side with a slight smile - similar to what you'd seen Jamie do so many times before. "What for, dear?"

You chanced a glance back and your boyfriend. "For raising a wonderful son."

Georgie looked at you, eyes welling up with tears. "You keep looking out for him for me, okay? I know you're doing so much good for him." she told you, sending you off with a smile when you nodded your head.

Together, you and Jamie offered one final wave to Georgie and Simon, walking off hand in hand - your relationship just a little bit stronger than when you first arrived.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tart imagine #ted lasso imagine #rita writes

[light-yaers]

Take Care: Chapter Nine

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: i love angst and i love it when roy acts like a middle aged white woman at a wine party where he laughs too loud and pretends he's having a great time just to get through it all

Word count: 6.5k

Chapter Nine

After a few weeks, you’d already got used to the tube journey from Richmond to Somerset House. You reluctantly found out that, despite London being one city and the tube routes being easy, it was so fucking huge that it took you almost an hour to get to work. Maybe that was your fault for staying in Richmond instead of moving, but you didn’t mind a longer commute into the City of London if that meant you got to stay put.

Pluto Press was unique, and you felt proud to have a position there. Your desk was by the window, looking over the Strand outside. Your colleagues were nice, and you got to work alongside artists and writers wherever you went. It was like a dream come true. Which was why, as you arrived home on the Friday of your second week, you couldn’t understand why you felt so… shit. You felt lonely, isolated, and so overtired that you were certain your brain wasn’t working at full capacity. You missed the team at AFC Richmond, talks with Keeley and Rebecca, Ted’s american jokes– Roy.

Since his last game, Roy had gone off the grid. You were lucky if you randomly saw him out and about in Richmond. You’d attempted to meet up with him after his retirement press conference, a month after the end of your placement and his injury, but to no avail. And even now, staring at your phone, glass of wine in your hand as you settled in for another Friday night alone, you had the urge to text him. You downed your wine before you did, and dropped the glass onto your coffee table as you opened up Roy’s and yours text chain. Then, you typed:

Are you coming to the game tomorrow? I’d love to see you!

Enthusiasm wasn’t the key to Roy’s heart, but you’d run out of options to get him to respond. It was only a friendly match, anyway, since the season was still a few months out. You wanted to imagine him there tomorrow, black shirt and black leather jacket donned, hands stuffed in his pockets, as he settled into his seat at the Dogtrack– not as a player, but as an admirer, maybe. 

When you sat in the owner’s box the next day, with the whistle about to be blown, you couldn’t stop calling yourself an idiot. Why the fuck would Roy want to come back here, of all places? The pitch where he played his last game, the stadium where he trained for his last season ever, surrounded by the people who got to keep playing after he all but faded away. 

You settled into your seat with a sour taste in your mouth and a frown on your face. Keeley squeezed your hand affectionately. “You okay, babe?” she asked. 

You shook your head, trying to get yourself out of this hole. “I asked Roy to come,” you told her. “Stupid, really.”

Keeley frowned at you empathetically. “ You tried, babe, but I think that’s all we can do right now after his retirement.”

You nodded, feeling sick. “Yeah.” You forced yourself to perk up, to focus on the positives, and abruptly shot up from your seat. “Come on, Richmond!” you screamed into the void, in some attempt to make you feel better about it all. 

That feeling only lasted so many days. By Tuesday of the next week, you were back to feeling overwhelmed, overtired, and so lonely that you genuinely didn’t know what to do with yourself. Most of your colleagues at work didn’t live anywhere near the west, so you were forced to leave after work drinks early, or not go at all, just to get home at a reasonable hour. 

The walk from Richmond station to your flat was becoming so dull that you could hardly stand it. One Thursday in the beginning of July, you elected to cut through Richmond Green and travel a longer route home, just to stop your brain from imploding. You left the station in the complete opposite direction to your flat, and said fuck it in your head. You passed over the green, treading along the concrete paving around the edge, until you reached Mae’s pub. 

To your surprise, inside you saw the unmistakable moustache of one Ted Lasso, sitting opposite the familiar hat donned by one Coach Beard. Your heart soared, and you bound into the pub before you could tell yourself to slow the fuck down. Ted spotted you as soon as you entered the bar, and stood up immediately. You realigned your direction of movement and took a hard right, heading straight towards the coaches.

“Well, howdy–!” You wrapped your arms around him before he’d even finished speaking. The happy smile on his face quickly dropped to a confused frown. Ted embraced you warmly, and it was clear to see that something was very wrong. “Hey–” He was going to ask if you were alright, but he stopped himself. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

Beard peered up at the two of you, his face stoney and thoughtful. His finger tapped on his chin in subtle curiosity and concern. Ted didn’t urge you to say anything, not for those few moments where he held you tightly. Beard gestured to Mae at the bar, and whispered “One lager, please, Mae. On our tab.” She brought it over in a matter of seconds, and you finally pulled away from Ted long enough to suck in a breath. 

You glanced at the beer on the table for you. “Thank you, Mae,” you croaked, turning to look at her as she strolled back to the bar. She smiled at you warmly, and you finally took a seat alongside the coaches. “Sorry, Coach. Didn’t mean to ambush you,” you breathed out. 

“I don’t mind it, not when it’s you who’s doing the ambushing,” Ted said, taking a sip of his beer and waving it off like it was nothing. 

“Seems to me like there’s something going on,” Beard chimed in, and took a sip of beer to mimic Ted before him. His eyes seemed mischievous, like he was looking for gossip, but that was generally what Beard looked like when he wanted to know something. He was like an old, wise owl. He placed his beer back on the table. “It’s either that, or I just haven’t noticed that you’ve always looked like you’re in the middle of an existential crisis.”

“Very funny,” you let out, tapping your glass anxiously. “I’d go with the former over the latter, Beard.” 

“I know,” he said, before he smiled at you knowingly. “Penny for your thoughts?”

You frowned at the table while Ted and Beard waited patiently for you to open up. You felt silly. How could you put your loneliness into words when it felt so unnatural? You had no reason to feel so terrible. You had a great new job, lived in a gorgeous neighbourhood, and had everything you could possibly want in life. You had the guys, and couldn’t wait until the season started up again in a few months, despite them being relegated to the Championship. You had Keeley and Rebecca, two strong and powerful women who you could confide in and rely on if you really needed to. You had… Well, that was just it. 

Did you really have Roy anymore? 

“It’s so stupid,” you started, trying to keep yourself steady, but all composure went out of the window as soon as those three words left your lips. “I have no reason to be this way. My new job is fucking fantastic, and I still get to live in Richmond, in my flat that I love so much, and I still get to go to games and see the guys and walk to Nelson Road across the green. This is all so fucking stupid.” You smacked your hands over your face in frustration. “I have no reason to feel this alone.” Your words were muffled beneath your palms, but Ted and Beard still glanced at each other with concern. 

“You’re feeling lonely?” Ted asked gently. 

You dragged your hands down your cheeks and sniffed through your snotty nose. “A little bit.” 

“A little bit.” Beard mimicked you. You scoffed abruptly, and it felt good just for a second.

Ted shuffled next to you, and readied himself to speak. “Lemme tell you something about loneliness,” he started. “When you feel it, you always feel silly. You feel like a dang moron, because all it does is make you think about all the people you have in your life that are there to listen to you, yet when you reach out, you pretend not to feel that loneliness, am I right?” 

You remembered the text you’d sent to Roy. So over enthusiastic in some attempt to hide how awful you’d been feeling. When he didn’t respond, or give you any indication that he’d even read your message, it just made you feel even worse. If you’d been honest, maybe he would have been more inclined to reply.

You nodded at Ted in understanding. “It’s hard sometimes. To tell people close to you that you’re struggling.” 

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Ted said. “That’s the catch, ain’t it? You wanna keep things light, you wanna keep things happy, but sometimes you can’t. And that’s alright. It’s okay to feel lonely, and tired, and tearful. Don’t beat yourself up for any of that.” 

You held onto Ted’s words for dear life. You’d never understand how he was able to be so optimistic, so constantly happy. No one was truly like that, so you bet it was all a bit of an act. Even so, Ted had a way of getting through to you. His words resonated, and you found yourself listening to him more than shrugging him off. He was good to you. You had the small green, army man that he’d given you for good luck, in your pocket or your bag constantly, moving it around like a chapstick from garment to garment. 

Even now, as you gently stuck your hand into your jacket pocket, the army man was there. Gun raised, knees bent in a defensive stance, ready to protect you. 

“Have you… heard from Roy?” you asked. 

Beard looked at Ted sullenly, almost, and you understand immediately. “Roy will be Roy,” Ted said, smiling at you halfheartedly. “His retirement press conference, though– jeez, it didn’t half tug on my heartstrings, here.”

“The end of an era,” Beard said, widening his eyes with grandeur. 

“I haven’t seen him since the Man City game in May,” you said. “Two months.”

“He’ll come around eventually,” Ted said, trying to reassure you, but you were sure that nothing but seeing Roy’s face in person would be able to do that. Ted suddenly perked up. “Anyway, how’s the new job! Got some new friends? Got some new besties? Oh– have you met anyone special yet?”

If you didn’t already know Ted, this would be incredibly out of the blue. But, you did know him. He was sweet, and kind, and capable of distracting you from your sadness. He made you feel welcome, and loved, and thought about. And– he made you roll your eyes to oblivion. 

You did just that, rolled your eyes into your skull with a smile on your face. “Job is great, but the dating pool is still very much dry, Ted.”

“Dang it!” he exclaimed. “Maybe the guys were right, all those months ago, huh? You should get on some dating apps, just for funzies.”

“Keeley has been wanting me to try out one, to be honest. It’ll only be a matter of time before she forces all of you guys to get on it,” you said, pointing at Ted and Beard in warning. “It’s called… um– something with a B. Like, Bantz, or Bumz. I don’t know.” You waved your hand in front of your face, giving up on remembering. 

“Might be worth a try all the same?” Ted said, egging you on. 

You sat for a moment, thinking, before you nodded. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I should put myself out there, yeah?”

“Heck yeah,” Ted said enthusiastically. “No harm in it, right?”

Was there any harm in it? Surely not. You were a single woman, you were free to branch out. But, underneath it all, there was still something that held you back. Without meaning to, Roy’s head popped into the back of your mind. All that you’d shared over your year at Richmond, that unspoken thing that fluctuated between you. 

You thought back to his final game then, as you remembered it all. The gentle way you held each other’s faces as you knelt on the floor beneath him, just to be close, just to let him know that you were there. The soft way he’d draped his arm over your shoulder as the team gathered after relegation. Despite the loss, and the end of his career, Roy had still laughed alongside the guys. His fingers had skimmed over your knuckles under those fluorescent lights, noticed by everyone, but it had all gone unsaid. It didn’t need to be mentioned, not when everyone had known this was bound to happen eventually. 

You and him, him and you. It fit, didn’t it? 

But, with the silence of the past few months, you didn’t know anymore. Maybe it was just the proximity, the familiarity of being around each other, that had made you believe it all to be so. Roy hadn’t said a word to you in months, hadn’t tried to. Had it all been in your mind?

As you finished your pint with Ted and Beard, talking about the new season, you forced yourself to stop thinking about Roy. You’d let him know you were there, and it had gone unreciprocated. As much as a part of you still yearned for him to be near, you had to stop putting in effort when he wasn’t trying to do the same to you. 

The name of the dating app was Bantr, and as soon as you messaged Keeley to say you were doing it, she replied with a winky face. You scoffed to yourself as you filled out your profile, and within an hour had got chatting to a guy from Richmond. 

The thing about Bantr; it was anonymous. You knew ages, and usernames, and location, but not actual names, or looks. It was a refreshing change from other apps, and you found yourself having a great conversation. Within a week, you’d already arranged to go out for dinner in the town.

As you walked to your date, a week or so after seeing Ted and Beard, you spoke to Keeley on the phone for a pep talk. 

“What if he’s ugly? Or boring?” you said. 

“Give it a chance, babes, you haven’t even met him yet!”

“I know, I know. I don’t think I was made for dating apps, honestly,” you let out, laughing to yourself to avoid a proper anxious meltdown. You thought you looked quite good, as you wore the same jumpsuit that you had for the charity ball last year. It was amongst the only fancy clothes you fucking owned. 

“You’ll get used to it. How long has it been, anyway?”

“Since I’ve got some, or since I’ve been on a date?” you joked. 

Keeley cackled down the phone. “The date. No– both.”

“A long time. For both, unfortunately.” You could practically feel Keeley grimacing.

“Go and get some then, babes,” she urged you on. “You never know, he might be your soulmate.”

You felt sick immediately, and frowned in disgust. “Ew, stop talking like that. Soulmates aren’t real. And if they were, I doubt I would meet him on Bantr.”

“Stop being so cynical,” she said, like a teacher telling off a student. “Take it from me– even if he’s not your soulmate, still try and have a good time, alright?”

You laughed softly. “Alright,” you gave in. 

“You deserve some fun! Promise me you'll have fun,” Keeley said sternly. You would never be able to deny her. 

“I promise,” you let out, alongside a smile. 

“Tell me everything. Love you.”

“Love you too, babes,” you said, before you hung up. 

You dropped your phone into your bag, and inhaled sharply as you made your way into the restaurant. Maybe this would be a good thing. A change of pace, something to get you back out there into the real world. As you waited at the bar, you shoved away the thought of Roy from your head. He didn’t belong there anymore, not when he’d made no attempt to stay close. 

Rebecca had been right. Footballers were dangerous. Especially the ones who pretended not to care. 

You spent the first twenty minutes of your date wondering if you were being pranked. There had to be a camera crew round the corner, there had to be some presenter who would pop out and tell you it was all a massive joke– because he was gorgeous. 

Lucas was his name. He had a face that lit up a room, and a voice that whacked you in the chest. For a week, you’d been discussing books, films and all the things you enjoyed over text. That didn’t change when you were face to face, but the accompaniment of seeing his face was definitely a plus. He bought you drinks, and was interested when you spoke, and all the things you’d been dying for over the past few years of being chronically single. 

“You’re new to the area, aren’t you?” he asked, as you finished your main courses. 

“Partially,” you said, tapping your wine glass. “I moved here last year for a masters degree.”

“Oh, fantastic. In what?”

You let out a breath. “It’s sort of a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” he said, smiling. “We still haven’t had dessert.”

Jesus fucking Christ, he was utterly perfect. You told him everything. The mix up from the university, the placement being at AFC Richmond, of all places. You spoke about your time there in depth, not even realising that you’d been whittling on about the guys, and Ted and Beard, for a while. By the time you were done, your dessert plates were thoroughly devoured, and you’d both moved onto something a little stronger. Lucas swilled a whiskey, and you clutched onto a gin and tonic. 

“That sounds like an awfully big adventure,” Lucas said, awestruck, when you were finally finished. 

“It was a blessing in disguise, really,” you said, smiling to yourself as all the memories of the year came flooding back. “I still got a position at Pluto Press, and I got to know some of the best people I’ve ever known. Luck was really on my side for this one, I think.”

“Definitely sounds like it,” Lucas said, gawking at you with eyes that only made you feel one thing; heard. “So, you’re still friends with them all?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. I saw Ted and Beard last week, actually. They convinced me to get on Bantr, funnily enough.”

“Well,” Lucas said softly. “You’ll have to thank them the next time you see them. I wouldn’t have met you otherwise.” Your heart lurched in your chest. You fought the urge to look away and cool your face down by fanning your hands. “Also, you need to do me a favour,” he continued, and you smiled questioningly. 

“What’s that?”

“I was a big Chelsea fan growing up, the biggest, if you can imagine it,” Lucas said. “My favourite player of all time was number six, Roy Kent.” Your heart dropped into your gut. When before it had been pumping happily, it was now a stone in your stomach, ready to be ejected through your windpipe. “The next time you see him, can you get me his autograph?”

You stopped breathing for a moment, from a lack of what to say. As soon as Lucas saw your face, he changed his demeanour immediately. 

He leant forward and looked at you with a gentle smile. “I’m totally joking,” he said quickly. You could breathe again, and found yourself stuttering out some chuckles of relief. “It was a joke, truly,” he repeated himself. 

The two of you shared some awkward laughter, but you were thankful it was all a bit of fun. “You scared me,” you said. “You don’t know Roy. If I asked for an autograph he’d fully think I’d gone mad.”

“You seem to know him quite well,” Lucas figured out. “I’m probably barking up the wrong tree, but he doesn’t seem like the friendly type.”

Your chest burst with the need to defend him immediately. “That’s not true at all. Don’t believe what the press says,” you said quickly. “Roy is… he’s… well– an arseshole, completely, but…” You swallowed, allowing yourself to think of him, just this once. “He’s also one of the kindest people I know.”

Lucas smiled, satisfied. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said. 

He paid the bill, and batted away every attempt you gave to pay half of it. As the two of you left the restaurant, Lucas put his arm out for you. You took it graciously, and the two of you walked back into town together. He walked you to your door as you continued your conversation, and when he rose up the steps to your building, he gently let your arm go. 

“I had a really lovely time tonight,” he said. 

“Me too,” you smiled. You meant it. 

“I’d really like to see you again,” he said strongly, before he backed up slightly. “Only if that was something that you wanted, as well, of course.”

You were already laughing by the time he’d finished. “I would love that, yes.”

“Great,” he said. “I’ll call you?”

You nodded, and he nodded too, both of you smiling like two school children who’d just discovered crushes on the other. As he left, you watched him walk away and around the corner. You felt giddy, you felt content, and you couldn’t believe it had all gone so well. Part of you was certain it was all too good to be true, but you followed Keeley’s advice as you entered your flat. You told yourself not to overthink it, to let yourself have a good time, to embrace something going well for once. 

Even so, as you got ready for bed at home, your mind kept flashing back to Roy. He was part of you, and it was impossible to ignore it all. As much as you shouldn’t have, you felt guilty. You and Roy had never been a thing, never gone there, yet you felt like you’d betrayed him, almost. The happiness from your beautiful evening quickly descended into sadness. You’d never felt more lonely than this, despite having a lovely meal with a gorgeous man. 

You dropped yourself onto your sofa, and brought out your phone. Quickly, you clicked on Roy’s name and began typing out a message. You sent it before your slightly drunk self could take it back, choosing to be honest with him for once in your life. 

I miss you. 

As the season kicked off, you focused on work. You applied yourself generously, and were hanging out with your colleagues in the city even more so. You took Keeley’s and Ted’s advice on board– you opened yourself up to more. You went on a few more dates on Bantr, including a second date with Lucas, over the next few weeks. 

None of them had worked out well, apart from Lucas himself. He’d kissed you after your second date, and you’d had to tell yourself not to invite him into your flat for a drink. You didn’t want to rush it all, didn’t want to dive into something that you were enjoying at this pace. Despite being in need– desperately, if you were being honest– you held yourself to a higher standard than that. Not that there was anything wrong with having fun and sleeping around, but you were out of practice. You’d rather sleep with someone you knew a bit more, before jumping straight in. 

Lucas seemed fine with that, too. He made an active effort to call you occasionally, and you’d both talk about work or your plans or your friends and family. He made you laugh, and that was a big green flag in your eyes. 

“So, when are you going to fuck?” Keeley said, and you scoffed abruptly. You both sat in the owner’s box at the Dogtrack, watching Richmond’s third match of the Championship season. July was well and truly over, as the second week of August had just begun. 

Still– nothing from Roy. You’d stopped caring to count the days. 

“Not everything has to be about sex,” you hit back. 

“Sure, I know that. But if he’s really as gorgeous as you say, why the fuck haven’t you yet? Are you playing hard to get?”

“Absolutely not. If anything I probably reply too fast to his messages,” you said. “I just… I don’t want to rush. We’re having fun, and he’s lovely, and– I just don’t need to worry about when sex is going to happen or not happen.” You made yourself believe the words you were saying, but you were definitely lying.

Keeley saw straight through you. “It’s going to happen on your next date, isn’t it?”

“God, I fucking hope so,” you burst. “It’s been over a year for me, you know.”

“A year? Like– a calendar year?”

You nodded severely, like it was the worst thing in the world that you hadn’t been dicked down in over 365 days. Since moving to Richmond, you’d never had the opportunity to, if you thought about it. You had your work colleagues, who overlapped as your friends. Shitting where you ate was always a bad idea, especially with a bunch of footballers. As much as they were all gorgeous in their own ways, you couldn’t imagine sleeping with any of them– well, except…

“What about Roy?” Keeley’s tone changed to something much softer. Her gaze hit you gently, and her eyes told you it was okay to open up to her. “You didn’t ever… you know.”

You frowned as soon as she brought him up. You shook your head, not knowing what else to say. When Roy was brought to your attention now, all you felt was anger. Red, burning rage, penetrating deep into your bones. Your prior loneliness and sadness had turned to being pissed off. 

“No. We never did.” Your voice was blunt, plain, so devoid of anything other than severity, that you hated the way you sounded. You let out a sigh, and told yourself to push forward. “He’s a footballer, Keeley. And you know exactly what he’s like. Maybe I thought something was there, but it’s been three fucking months. He hasn’t contacted me at all, and honestly– I’m done with it.”

Keeley quickly dropped her hand into your lap, clutching her fingers over your own. She smiled at you. “Screw him. You’re so much better than you were last month, so fucking screw him.”

You smiled at her, feeling your anger dissipate. You were lucky to have her, Keeley, because she wholeheartedly understood you. She supported you, and held you when you needed to be held, and yelled encouragement at you when you needed it, too. It was then, as Richmond failed to score a goal, and subsequently performed their third tie of their season so far, that you couldn’t wait for her to meet Lucas. Maybe this would turn into something great, if you only let yourself fall into it. 

A week later, across the green and beyond his neighbourhood, Roy stared at his phone for the umpteenth time that day. He had no new messages, no missed calls, not even any notifications from Dominos or Pizza Hut. He counted the days in his head– thirty-four– since you’d last contacted him. That message, the last one you’d sent him, saying you missed him; he still found his gut coiling and his chest compressing when he thought about it. 

As he oversaw his under 9’s girls football team on the pitch, he slotted his phone back into his tracksuit. This was all getting to be too much for him– missing you, avoiding Richmond, growing out his fucking hair– but he couldn’t seem to shake himself out of this after-retirement slump. 

He regretted the conference. Putting his heart on the line at the end of his career, bursting into tears behind the microphone and in front of the press. You’d messaged him about that, too, saying that you were proud of him, that you wanted to see him, that it’d been a while. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to respond. He was a prick, he knew that more than anyone, and the fact that he was actively avoiding you and other people who gave a shit, made him feel even worse about it all. 

It only made him want to stay away more. 

Maybe he could coach these under 9’s for the rest of his life, and live in seclusion, only interrupted by his yoga mums and an occasional glass of rosé. 

He entered his house that evening, grabbing a beer as soon as he did. He popped off the top, and glugged back a few gulps. The evenings were bright in summer, and it only made his house feel emptier. He glanced around his living room, skimming his eyes over his overflowing bookshelves, when he caught a look at your article. 

He’d framed it, and placed it in the middle of his homemade cards from Phoebe. As much as it stung him to look at now, it was a reminder of you. Those months together at Richmond, his final game, all of it. He thought of it all more often than he wanted, as his mind roamed and landed upon things that only made him feel worse. Going from playing football everyday to this was a big change. It hurt his heart profusely, but he knew it was partly his own doing.

He’d cut himself off from everyone, shut himself away for the foreseeable future. In some ways, he felt he deserved it. He’d battered away every attempt at people to reach out. You, Ted, Keeley; their names sat in his phone with messages from over a month ago that he’d never responded to. He gulped back more of his beer as he started getting angry at himself, and a split second decision had him finishing his drink and grabbing his house keys. He left his empty house and headed into town, as the sun still shone high over Richmond. 

You hugged Lucas as you approached the bar, and your table outside. He kissed you on the cheek affectionately, before he pulled out your chair. You sat, and he confidently waved over a waitress to take your drink orders. 

This was nice. Your third date, and neither of you could get enough of the other. You sipped on wine and talked about your daily lives, sharing jokes over some olives, as the sun skittered across the lush outside space of a central Richmond bar. 

“How are they doing?” Lucas asked, popping an olive into his mouth. 

“Not good,” you said. “They’ve tied three games in a row. Not the best after relegation, really.” You shrugged, picturing Sam’s sullen face after the game last week. 

They were all so tired, all so capable, but they’d lost Roy. It was doing a number on all of them. They missed their ex-captain.

“Hm, that’s a shame. What do you reckon is holding them back?” he asked. 

You often felt giddy when Lucas asked you about football. He listened to what you had to say, took on board your points, and thought you knew a lot more about the sport in general. It was a welcomed change from what the guys at the club had thought of your knowledge. 

“Lots of things, I suppose,” you said, taking a sip of your drink before you started. “Having Ted and Beard was always going to be a learning curve, but that wasn’t the reason for their relegation. Jamie Tartt was taken back by Man City a few months before the end of their previous season, which drastically made things worse, amongst other things.”

Other things being Roy. 

“Other things?” Lucas said, and you wished he hadn’t. 

You were trying this thing where you didn’t bring up Roy when you didn’t need to. It had helped you a lot so far, over the past few weeks, and kept your moods happier in general. When you thought of him, it was often difficult to get him out of your mind again. It only ever reminded you of the past few months of silence, and no one needed to be in the firing line for that– except him. 

Nevertheless, you sucked in a breath, and drank a large gulp of your wine, before you forced yourself to continue. “Well, their final game of last season. Other than the loss, and the relegation itself, they were definitely shaken up by–” You stopped, but not because of anything in your mind. 

Your heart catapulted into your throat when your eyes focused on him. Black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black jeans. His hair had grown out. He looked scruffy, and unkempt, and all the things that he hadn’t only a few months ago. You noticed his limp first, next to the steely gaze that he shot to the world around him. 

“Roy.” His name burst from your mouth.

He was fast approaching, about to pass the bar, and you didn’t want him to spot you. You weren’t in the mood to see him now. You wanted to enjoy your date, and get laid afterwards, and not think about him ever. 

Lucas hummed and nodded. “Oh, yeah. Losing Roy must have been a big change for them, you’re right.”

“No– uh,” you said, suddenly leaning forward to clutch onto Lucas’s arm. “Can we go inside? I suddenly have a really bad chill.”

Lucas widened his eyes at you in concern, but he didn’t seem to catch on. “Really? It’s still quite warm. I can grab you a blanket, would that help?” he suggested. God dammit he was so considerate, and kind, but you didn’t think a blanket would fix this. Panic set in tenfold.

You rethought your escape plan. “I– I’ll go to the loo, and grab one on my way out,” you said frantically, standing up far too quickly. 

Your leg hit the table abruptly, sending a sharp pain through your kneecap. You squeaked, and your glass toppled over suddenly. It was too late to be stopped, as it fell from the table and smashed upon the floor. Glass shards littered the concrete, and your presence was alerted to everyone at the bar, and beyond. 

Lucas got up swiftly, and clutched your arm. “Are you okay?” he asked, worried. 

“Yeah, I just–” You looked up, and you froze. 

Roy Kent stopped walking, as his eyes focused on your face. You felt your blood boil uncomfortably beneath your skin, as his gaze took in the panicked expression on your brow. The jig was up. He’d spotted you, due to your utter clumsiness, and a wave of upset ravaged in your chest. 

The first thing Roy thought when he saw you, was how much you were glowing. You hadn’t glowed like that in a while, not unless he counted the night of the charity ball, or when you’d interviewed him in his dining room. The sun settled over your shocked expression, a look that should have made you look scary, like a deer in headlights, but it only made his heart lurch. 

There was a man before you, clutching onto your arm as he asked you if you were okay again. He rounded the table and held you close, and as he did you finally looked away. You smiled at him, clearly embarrassed that you’d broken a glass and whacked yourself. That look was one that Roy recognised– you’d looked at him that like many times before.

This is what he’d allowed himself to pass by. You, and drinks in the summer, chatting over a bowl of olives as you swished a straw into a spritzer or got froth on your upper lip from a beer. He was a fucking idiot. Roy told himself this was it. He could either go over, and get you back– get it all back– or he could miss this opportunity and never fucking try. When he started walking again, you snapped your gaze back at him in warning. 

Roy chose to ignore it.

You could’ve punched him.

“What was that all about–?” Lucas said, as he followed your gaze. He stopped short as soon as he saw Roy, and smiled excitedly as he looked back at you. “Is that… Roy Kent?”

You inhaled sharply, deeply, trying to calm yourself down as a wave of anger rose from within you. “Yes. Yes, it is,” you said, giving up. There was a look on Roy’s face that you knew well, that fake smile that he put on for people, when he was pretending to be a joking version of himself.

“What a coincidence!” Lucas exclaimed. 

You hummed, trying to keep your tone light. “Massive,” you said bluntly. 

As Roy stepped towards you both, you felt your chest crumble ever so slightly. Lucas peered at him like an awestruck kid. This was the last thing you’d ever wanted to fucking happen. 

Roy gestured to the broken glass on the floor. “Think you dropped something.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” you said, as you inhaled his words for the first time in three months. Alongside your anger, you felt your throat start to close. Seeing his face again after so long was a hit. 

“Roy Kent,” Lucas said happily, sticking his hand out. Roy shot you an amused look as he leaned in and shook it. “Big fan. I’ve heard a lot about you from this one,” he said, gesturing to you affectionately. 

“Have you now?” Roy said. The sweet way he was talking was all a farce. He was playing nice for your sake, but you had a horrible feeling that he was going to go overboard. 

“Yes. All bad things,” you said, smiling sarcastically. Lucas laughed loudly, and Roy smiled overenthusiastically, like someone at a pantomime performance. It was incredibly off-putting, and made you feel slightly sick. It was probably overlaid from the deep panic you felt in your gut, amongst other things. 

Roy and Lucas parted. As they did, Lucas peered down at you. He took one look at your face– your gaze stuck on Roy bluntly and trying not to scream– and utterly misinterpreted your emotions. “Would you care to join us for a drink?” he asked Roy. 

You sucked in a breath. “Oh, no, he’s–”

“You know what,” Roy cut over you. “I’d love to.”

After a year of knowing him, you knew this was it– this would finally be the time you punched Roy Kent in his fucking face. 

CHAPTER TEN

Tag list: @atjamesbbarnes @20th-centu-fairy-girl @royalestrellas @weakmoony-stuff@ironmanmagnetfridge @lemonpiegurll @hellomagicalsouls @her-fandom-sanctum @gothicwidowsworld @old-enough-to-know-better73 @djarindroid @afraidofshrimp @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @queen-of-dumbasses @sogoodtoheritsvicious @lznnph1l @crav1ngc4ke @onceuponaoneshot @jamieolivia27 @dadbodfanatic-x @kelp-dreaming @harrypedro465 @lonely-escape-artist @abeeabeeabee @nicklet94 @libsybum  @cha0sdreaming @toomany24s @kashee-h @infinetlyforgotten @secretnook @cluelesslilsharkie @callmecasey81 @deepdarkvelvet @twiceinabluemoon @cardeegans @golden-hoax @kingleahhh @hoalkk1 @sunderland-6 @ellouisa17 @thesestrangerslikeme @elissaaa @scrumptiousroadponymoney @confessionsofatotaldramaslut @ysmmsy @seacactusplant @pedritosgirl2000 @loveslide @ryleyrooroo @hanybunch @tweasley20 @witchyanya-7

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #roy kent #roy kent ff #ted lasso #ted lasso ff #brett goldstein #fanfiction #writeblr #lightyaers #take care fic #update #fluff and angst #enemies to friends to lovers #x reader #reader insert #ao3 #archive of our own #wattpad #writers of tumblr

[its-time-to-write]

Hello! I absolutely love your work. You’re a fantastic writer. Is it possible for you to do something based a bit off of the song London Boy by Taylor Swift? If not I understand. I just feel there’s some cool way to tie it with Jamie Tartt. Sorry if it’s a bit of a generic request

ALRIGHTY gotta preface this, I actually hate this song 😂 Lyrics aren’t bad, but the like accent thing she does makes me die a little bit. BUT. I saw what you were going for (I think)! So here it is, I suffered through listening to this song bc you asked for a fic and I am nothing if not eager to please.

This is also a response to two other requests. So if that was you, ✌️😗 y’all were on the same page, congratulations. This is also my first song-based fic, although all of my works are (very, very loosely) based on songs. That’s why they have such insane titles😅 ANYWAY that’s enough talking from me. Enjoy!

i fancy you

i love my hometown as much as Motown, i love So-Cal

Richmond in London is very different from your hometown in Southern California. It’s colder, for one. And older. Things in California don’t have the same extended history as they do in England. You’re here visiting family for a couple months, although your cousins are trying to convince you to stay longer. 

“What do you really have waiting for you in California?” Holland asks.

“Uh, the beach. Sun. Great Mexican food.” you respond.

Holland isn’t buying it. “When else are you going to be able to live here? We can help you get a job and all that, not a huge problem.”

Holland is very convincing. You decide to stay for a year, single year, and see what happens.

Holland is four years older than you, and has always been the cousin you’re closest to. You’ve had a long-standing bond since being the two eldest sisters in your family. Holland takes you to clubs and introduces you to her friends, including a Miss Keeley Jones who thinks you are “abso-fuckin-lutely adorable.” 

“You have to bring her to a Richmond match, babes,” Keeley says. “Lots of fit footballers.” She winks.

You ask Keeley of she’s dating a footballer.

“Oh god no,” she shudders. “A coach.”

You don’t really see the difference.

saw the dimples first and then i heard the accent

It was a good match, even you can tell. The Richmond team played seamlessly, passing the ball back and forth without letting the other team even touch it. Their conductor of sorts, the one mediating the passes, was crazy. He never seemed to get tired, anticipating his teammates’ moves and those of the opposing team. It seemed like he was always five steps ahead of everyone. Holland notices you watching him and pokes Keeley.

“You like Jamie?” Keeley laughs. “Makes sense. Anyone with eyes likes him. He’s right fit, too. Good in bed, shit with feelings. Well, used to be. Still fucking cocky.”

That’s interesting. “You’ve been with him?” you ask.

Keeley gives you a 50/50 hand motion. “Sort of. Don’t really count it, do I? Was with him at his fucking worst. That’s why Roy fucking hates him.”

“He’s much better now,” Holland chimes in. “Something happened last season and he stopped being such a dick.”

“Holland!” you reproach, laughing. “That’s not nice!”

She and Keeley shrug. “It’s true though, innit?”

You don’t know if it is, because when you first see Jamie up close in the club later that night, he seems perfectly fine. You see a flash of a smile, a dimple, then he says something (you don’t know what) but his accent is… something else. It’s not like Holland’s, or any of your family, but you know enough to pinpoint it to Manchester. 

“The accent got you, didn’t it?” says a voice near your ear and you yelp as Holland slides her arm around your shoulder.

“Gets the best of us,” says Keeley, grabbing your hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

She drags you over despite your protests.

he likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet, ‘darling i fancy you’

Regular dinner dates are scary, but dinner dates with a Premier League footballer are downright terrifying. 

You made Holland help you figure out what to wear, and when she showed up at your aunt’s house she had Keeley in tow.

“Heard you’re in need of a bit of a makeover,” she grins. “Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Keeley and Holland have brought some of Holland’s dresses and you’re in a dark green one that “does fucking wonders for your hair, babe.”

Keeley did your makeup while Holland curled your hair and just like that, you’re ready to go.

You groan, “God, I fucking hate first dates,” while shaking out your arms. 

“It’ll be fine,” Holland promises, and she’s right.

It’s more than fine. It’s fucking fantastic.

“I like your smile,” Jamie says. “Fuckin’ American, it is.”

You laugh. “What does that even mean?”

Jamie shrugs. “It’s bigger. Brits are more reserved. Like Roy. You met Roy yet? Biggest fucking twat I ever saw,” but he says it with such affection that you’re sure he means something else.

His eyes are electric, blue and dazzling. They betray his every thought and feeling and right now you feel like if you hold his gaze any longer you’re going to say something completely stupid. 

Turns out your not the one to say something stupid; he is.

You’re walking back to his car, holding hands and swinging them in between you when he stops and says, “Darling, I fancy you.”

You grin and he returns it. He asks, “Was that British enough for you? Feel like you got the whole experience?”

“Definitely,” you say. “Was I American enough for you?”

“Dunno,” he replies, “Got to test one more thing.”

His lips are very soft on yours.

met all of his best mates, so i guess all the rumors are true

“This is Isaac, Colin, Dani, and Sam.”

Jamie is introducing you to some of his team. You’ve been dating for a month now, and your first picture together just popped up in the papers the night before.

The boys of AFC Richmond were pretty sure Jamie was seeing someone, but they didn’t know who it was. Jamie had set up this dinner thing a while ago, it just so happened that the tabloids got to you first. 

It’s not even that great a picture honestly, but you’d been around Nelson Road enough that the boys were able to recognize you. 

It’s a little unnerving to meet them, what with Isaac’s intense stare and Dani’s wide, wide smile. You’re grateful Colin and Sam are acting normal.

“We have an American coach,” Colin says in an attempt to break the ice. It does, because you’re all laughing at the absurdity of his attempt. 

“We have heard very much about you,” Dani says and you wonder if he ever stops smiling. It feels so weird and so normal to be at Jamie’s house with a pile of food and FIFA queued up on the TV, ready to go. You figure that if you’re meeting his friends, Jamie must be at least a little serious. He finds your hand and squeezes it under the table as Isaac cracks his first smile of the night. It’s weird dating a footballer, but you think you can get used to it.

babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

Jamie’s house is the largest you’ve ever been in, and it used to be strange that it was only just the two of you, clattering around that big home. 

It’s a cool night after a warm day so you both decided to lay in his backyard under the stars. 

It feels so much like something you’d do as a teenager, and you tell Jamie as much.

“Used to sneak on me mum’s roof,” he tells you. “Didn’t even do dumb shit, I’d just go to look.”

You lay there in silence for a few moments until you feel something tickle your side.

“Jamie!” you shriek.

“I didn’t do nothing!” he protests. “Must’ve been a bug.”

You don’t believe him, but you don’t push it until you feel another tickle.

“Babe!”

“Babe, it weren’t me, I swear,” he says and you really don’t believe him, especially when he tickles you again less than a minute later.

You laugh. “Fuck you, Jamie Tartt.”

He smirks. “Babe, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Hm, maybe I want a good time.”

Jamie’s grin widens and he sits up. “You know where the bedroom is, love.”

you know i love a London boy

“I don’t fucking get it,” Jamie says. You shrug. 

“I literally don’t either,” you say. Your dad leans over to Jamie. “So basically…” he begins.

He’s halfway through his explanation when Jamie pokes you. “Babe,” he says, “can we switch seats so I can hear your dad better?” You chuckle then wiggle your way into Jamie’s seat while he gets into yours.

“Why the fuck is it called ‘football’ if it’s with their hands?” Jamie asks.

Your dad shrugs. “Not a clue, son, not a clue.”

The game progresses and one of the teams scores a touchdown.

“Hold the fuck up,” Jamie says. “Why did their score change that much?”

“I know this one!” you exclaim. “Different types of goals get different points. And there’s something called a lateral which has to do with moving backward I think?”

You dad just shakes his head with a grin and doesn’t attempt to clarify. 

Your dad spends the second half explaining everything to a very focused Jamie, and he asks questions the entire car ride home. It’s funny have Jamie here in America, staying at your parents house and seeing where you grew up. 

When you’re finally back home and in bed, you pull him as close as you can and whisper, “I love you very, very much. You know that, right?”

You can feel Jamie smile against your hair. “I love you too, very fucking much.”

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

[clonecaptains]

I beg for a number 17 Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys with Jamie 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

17. Needing to kiss to hide from bad guys

// word count: 590, rating: t, gender neutral reader //

Your fingers are interlaced with your boyfriend Jamie’s. it’s a cool evening in Richmond, and you’ve chosen to go for a little walk after your dinner. You’re chatting quietly, glad for a calmer moment with him.

So often the life you share with him can be a busy one. He has a game tomorrow, but for right now he’s all yours.

Passing by an AFC giftshop, Jamie spots a cardboard cutout of himself standing near the open door of the shop.

“Babe,” he points to it and mimics the pose, “don’t you want this?” He has a cheeky grin on his face. There’s a little glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“Why do I want that one when I have the real thing?” you smile back. “This one is flat, nothing fun.”

“Maybe I’ll get him for you so you won’t miss me.”

“How thoughtful,” you shake your head and give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

He pulls out a sharpie from his bag slung over his shoulder, and he signs the cardboard with it. He gives it a quick nod, puts the sharpie away, and reaches for your hand again.

“Hate to leave this handsome lad out all alone,” he clicks his tongue, then shrugs.

Together you start walking again. His hand is warm in yours, and you breathe deeply smelling the air. There’s lights strung between the buildings. These are the moments you live for.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jamie tugs on your arm, pulling you into an alleyway.

“What is it?” you gasp from his sudden movements.

“Gotta hide. Quick kiss me,” his expression is serious and you’re filled with slight panic.

He pins you up against the brick wall. One hand is on your lower back, molding your body to his. His other hand cradles the back of your neck. His lips find yours and you gasp when his tongue slips into your mouth. Another gasp escapes when he ruts his hips into yours.

“Jamie,” you gasp, pulling away. “Who are we hiding from? Paps?”

“Nah, worse,” he grins and turns his head, his hands still on you.

You turn to follow his gaze to see Roy Kent standing at the entrance of the alley, the scowl ever present on his face.

“Jamie! I thought we were in danger,” you laugh. “Hi Roy.”

Roy nods at you.

“We coulda been!” Jamie laughs. “I got to mess with him and kiss you all in one go. That’s two stones one bird kinda shit ain’t it?”

“Two bird one stone,” Roy corrects him.

“Whatever,” Jamie turns back to you to kiss you again.

You hear Roy grumble, but then he wishes you a good rest of your night. You, specifically, not Jamie. Which makes you smile into the kiss even more.

“Don’t keep him up too late!” you hear Roy call out, further down the street.

“He’s right you have a game tomorrow,” you tease him pulling away.

“Babe, no,” Jamie reaches for you trying to kiss you again.

“I’m kidding!” you tease him back, running your hands through his messy hair. “We’re not doing anything in this alley that’s for sure.”

Though you think that smile of his could get you to do anything.

“Roy didn’t say you couldn’t shower with me. Gotta shower when we get home. And you join me,” he leans over to kiss your ear. “Two stones one bird.”

“It’s two bird with one stone!” You giggle leaning into him as you walk.

“Whatever!” he laughs. “That was a yes though right?”

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso fic #my writing #two in one day?? and on a holiday?

[janewilsonrva]

The Resurrection of Miss Calico

Richmond, Virginia (USA)

Based on a photo from March 30, 2024.

I had not seen my dear friend in several weeks and had been concerned as to her fate. It had been a three-year friendship that had begun in the second year of the pandemic.

But as I walked near the creek along the block where Miss Calico lives on the day before Easter, she spotted me from across the street. She came trotting toward me, greeting me with happy meows and rubbed her herself all over my legs and shoes. I was overjoyed to see her, and relieved to know that she was alive and well.

Eventually she began to focus on chewing on grass near the creek, and I decided to continue my walk, noting how fitting it seemed that she should reappear to me on the weekend of The Resurrection. 🐈 🐾

#cats #cats of tumblr #caturday #mobile photography #art filter

[cloudynyims]

A story of a little borrower who has lived in AFC Richmond since Jamie joined the team(the first time). It takes place a little bit after he leaves and returns to AFC Richmond (yknow, once he’s had some character development). Please excuse how it begins abruptly. Also, the team knows about the borrower. Well, except Jamie. (Can you tell who’s asks I’ve been reading too many of?) about 2.4k words!

Things had been rough since Jamie returned to AFC Richmond. Their open lifestyle with the team abruptly halted. They still remembered the day he came back. 

They were waiting in the locker room for the team to finish training. If they weren’t watching the practice with Ted, they waited near Sam’s locker. Sam was always kind and respectful toward them, regardless of what happened on the pitch. However, this time he walked in, he seemed nervous about something. 

“Sam, what’s—“

“You need to get out of here. Now,” He interrupted. They froze, as Sam never acted like this. He immediately noticed the effect it had on them and sighed, lowering his tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to lash out like that. But there isn’t much time. Jamie’s back; he’ll be in here any minute. We can talk tomorrow, okay? But you have to go.”

Sam, the team, and the borrower all knew that Jamie finding them would be a terrible idea. They nodded and promptly climbed down the bench to the floor. Wasting no time, they sprinted back into their hole in the walls. Once they were safe, they listened, waiting until they heard Jamie’s voice, confirming the unthinkable. So it was true.

Their mind swirled with conflicting emotions at that moment. Jamie, the one person on the team they thought was gone for good, was back. And probably no different than before, judging by what Isaac had told them about Jamie’s whereabouts since he left Richmond. Apparently, he was on some reality show that got him kicked off of Manchester City. And now he was back here.

A pit formed in their stomach thinking about the last few months. Not having to hide around, not being scared for their life, and not being worried about being vigilant 24/7 were luxuries they had come to enjoy under the care of the team. Now it felt like they were returning back to before. Before the team found them and while Jamie was still here. A life of fear, sleepless nights, and constant anxiety. 

That was about a month ago, and they still were petrified of him, just from everything they heard. From that day onward, they were usually on Roy’s person at all times. The team came to the consensus that they didn’t even want Jamie to know the borrower existed, which they were perfectly fine with. So, they spent a lot of time around Roy, because Roy only put up with Jamie when it was absolutely necessary. 

Getting used to Roy was a learning curve in itself, considering how protective he was. They were often in his pocket while he coached, just so he could ensure that they were safe. Not that they minded, they just missed their autonomy. Frankly, they hadn’t had much freedom or relaxation since Jamie came back. Everyone wanted to keep them out of his hands, so they weren’t roaming around like they used to do when they were bored. 

On another note, they had been in Roy’s pocket a few times when he and Jamie argued. It was unpleasant, to say the least, and the duo always were arguing over nothing. They both spoke way too loud, and the poor borrower's ears always rang for a little bit afterward. Roy usually deaded the conversation pretty quickly when he finally remembered they were with him. Even still, these were some of their only impressions of Jamie, which did not counteract their initial wariness around him.

They were already skeptical of Jamie, even before the team found them. So, after they got comfortable with players, the borrower asked what they all thought of Jamie. Sam had told them a little about what it was like having him as a teammate. Isaac and Colin filled them in on how he treated them, and even Dani had something to say about Jamie as a teammate. Roy, obviously, hated Jamie’s guts, but his criticisms were backed up (for the most part) by the team. None of the reviews were strikingly positive. All of these different and consistent stories solidified their opinion that Jamie was not someone to be found by.

The team only managed to keep them hidden from him for a month or two. One day after practice, Ted called the coaching staff in for a meeting in his office. Roy left them in his office, assuming they wanted some time out of his pocket. He was correct. “Stay right here, Ted wants me for a quick meeting in his office,” Roy said gruffly.

“I’m not a child, Roy. I can go where I like,” They stated, knowing that they wouldn’t leave of their own accord anyway. 

Roy rolled his eyes and started walking toward Ted’s office. “I mean it. I don’t want that prick to find you,” He said over his shoulder before closing the door to his office. And so, they sat contentedly on Roy’s desk, waiting for him to return from that meeting with Ted. 

With nothing better to do, they listened as the team filed into the locker room. The team were slightly more lively than usual, so it must’ve been a good day on the pitch. It made the borrower miss the times when they would watch the team practice from Ted’s shoulder. They saw a new side of the team that they never knew when they lived in the walls. They saw the one passion they all shared for football. 

The room suddenly became tense, and they could only imagine that Jamie walked in. The team still wasn’t very fond of him. Curiosity was testing them, and they wanted to peek out the window but remained on Roy’s desk. They were still curious, but they didn’t want Jamie to see them. Jamie would never willingly visit Roy, as far as they were concerned. So, being in Roy's office was the safest place for them. 

One could imagine their surprise when a few moments later, Jamie sauntered into the room.

“Roy? Where are you, mate? Just want to have a little chat with you, is all,” Jamie said as he leaned against the doorframe of the office. They froze. They weren’t exactly in his line of sight, but they were definitely visible. They watched, eyes wide, as Jamie waited for a response that didn’t come. 

“Fucking hell, I don’t have time to wait around for that bastard,” Jamie muttered under his breath before inviting himself into the room. He glanced around at the various shelves in the office as he slowly walked in. “Won’t even coach me, the ass.” Clearly, Jamie wasn’t in the best mood. Or, he could just be unhappy with Roy. Both were fair guesses. 

But it didn’t matter to them, because they were on the verge of being seen. By Jamie Tartt. Jamie wasn’t the tallest on the team, but his presence seemed so large at that moment. Thinking quickly, they ran behind Roy’s coffee cup and sat behind it, trying to catch their breath. They had never been this close to him before, and it was terrifying. 

Jamie looked around the office space. It was pretty barren of any decorations, so characteristic of Roy. If he was going to wait for Roy to come back from wherever he was, he might as well make himself comfortable. With a sigh, he plopped himself down on Roy’s desk chair. 

He aimlessly swiveled in the chair as he looked around. He leafed through a few of the papers on Roy’s desk before getting bored. He then started drawing on the whiteboard but quickly got tired of that as well and resigned to doing nothing.

Jamie was about to pull out his phone when he noticed the coffee cup on the desk. An idea came to his head. What better way to mess with Roy than to finish off his drink? Was it a good idea considering Jamie came to talk to Roy about coaching him? No, but it was too golden of an opportunity for him to pass up.

With a smirk, Jamie grabbed the cup, and they watched in dismay as their hiding spot was easily lifted away. They were rooted to the spot. They couldn’t move. Jamie was going to see them, and there was no avoiding it. Their mind was telling them to run, but their body wouldn’t listen. They could only watch.

Jamie, on the other hand, wasn’t paying attention. He took a long sip of the coffee only to nearly spit it back out. “Of course, he would drink straight black coffee,” Jamie scoffed. As he went to return the cup to its original position, he locked eyes with them. 

Their mind raced; their heart pounded. Time was at a standstill. They didn’t want to look up at him, but they also couldn’t tear their eyes away. Everything the players had ever told them about Jamie came rushing to the forefront of their brain. 

“No teammate has ever made me feel as bad about myself as Jamie did.”

Sam’s words specifically echoed in their head, along with their panicked thoughts. With all of these swirling in their head, they could barely pay attention to what was going on. He was just so huge. They had grown used to feeling small since being acquainted with the team, but the unease of it all resurfaced tenfold. They had deja vu from the day the team first found me. 

Jamie just… looked at them. His expression was one of confusion, then it morphed into disbelief, and finally curiosity. He blinked a few times as if he was trying to convince himself that they were real. Slowly, he set the cup on a different part of the desk without taking his eyes off them. Now they had his full attention. They shuddered involuntarily.

“What the fuck…” Jamie trailed off. As he gazed at them, he leaned a little closer. His lips were slightly parted in awe, and they could barely feel the breath of his exhales. “You’re just a tiny little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered. If they weren’t so terrified, they would’ve noticed how quiet his voice was. 

They caught sight of movement out of the corner of their eye but didn’t react quickly enough. They could only flinch back as Jamie moved his hand. They tensed up and squeezed their eyes shut, anticipating the unpleasant, sinking feeling of getting picked up against their will. They felt nothing. They peeked up to find that his hand stopped right next to them. “You’re smaller than me hand,” he marveled, still in awe of the fact that they existed.

Jamie frowned, seemingly confused as they shrunk away from his hand. Their reaction prompted him to really look at them, to take in all the emotions littered across their face. “You’re shaking. Are you alright?” In truth, They hadn’t even noticed when they began trembling. But Jamie was starting to see all of their anxious habits: from how they had barely moved since he saw them to how their eyes darted around, searching for an escape.

They couldn’t even form the words to respond; all that escaped was a sharp inhale. Their throat felt tight from the trepidation of the moment. Their body wouldn’t listen to them, even though they desperately wanted to run far, far away. Their silence seemed to perplex Jamie further. If he kept asking questions, there would be a point that they would have to respond. There was no other way out of this scenario. 

His voice dragged them out of their thoughts. “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he said, looking a little bashful. “You… you can understand me, yeah?” They barely nodded, finally giving him a semblance of an answer. He sighed with a gentle smile. “That’s good. If… if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here? In the club, I mean.”

There was a beat of silence. They knew they had to talk to him at some point. They took a deep breath, trying to calm their nerves. “I’m… waiting for Roy,” They mumbled, staring at their hands. Jamie couldn’t suppress a smile as he heard them speak for the first time. Such a tiny voice that fits them so perfectly. A part of him was still in disbelief that someone so small existed. Then he registered what they said. 

“You’re waiting for— You know Roy Kent?” His voice rose a bit, filled with disbelief. They nodded and backed up a few steps, growing a little more nervous. Jamie noticed and immediately softened his expression. Roy wasn’t his favorite person, but he knew had to curb his distaste for their sake. Clearly, it was making them nervous. Given how they were acting around him, he could rightfully assume that they were more comfortable with Roy.

“Does anyone else know that you’re here?” He asked, keeping his voice soft.

They nodded but hesitated before answering, wondering how he would take the answer. “Um… the rest of the team knows,” they said, purposefully avoiding his eyes that were trained on them. 

Jamie sat back in the chair, thinking for a moment. After a bit, he finally spoke. “So, everyone on the team knows about you, except me.” He stated, mostly to himself. “And you’ve been here for how long?”

“Three years, b-but the team only found me last season,” was their barely audible response. 

Jamie was sort of frustrated. He knew earning the team’s trust would be difficult, but for them to hide something like this from him was a low blow. To think that his teammates thought he’d possibly hurt them was the reason they never told him. Jamie knew he hadn’t been the best teammate in the past but, this hurt.

Then he looked back down at them again. They had not only spent the last season with the team but also lived in the club for two seasons before that. His heart twinged as he imagined how terrifying he must be to them. They had seen him at his best and worst. He could see that even though they were talking to him and being somewhat cooperative, they was beyond uncomfortable. 

Their hands were winding around each other in a nervous fray; their body and muscles were tense, ready to flee at a moment’s notice. Jamie ran his hands through his hair, contemplating his next words. 

“I’m gonna go,” Jamie began. He could tell that they perked up at those words, but swallowed his pride and continued. “I can talk to Roy later. I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I have. But, I want you to know that I would never hurt you, yeah?”

They tilted their head and nodded warily. “Good.” True to his word, Jamie stood up and made his way to the door. “Cheers.” He walked out of the room, leaving them more confused than anything.

this is heavily unedited so if there are any typos plz let me know :) also, this will probably have a part 2 BUT don't expect it in a timely manner unfortunately. this took me way too long to write argh.

#giant tiny #g/t #giant/tiny #borrower #g/t writing #ted lasso g/t #jamie tartt x reader #listen i will resolve it eventually #i have this strange hc that roy drinks straight black coffee #s3 jamie go brrrr #love this show and the g/t thoughts it brings me #first fic in a while my goodness

[bethanydelleman]

I’m researching a Regency figure (Seymour Fleming, Lady Worsley, in my profile pic) and her annual income as a single woman was £2000-3000 based on an inheritance of £52 thousand.

Which Austen figure is that income comparable to? What sort of standard of living would you expect her to have, especially as she would not be expected to run a house on that but live with relatives?

That income is directly comparable to Miss Sophia Grey from Sense & Sensibility, who has £50,000 and therefore a similar income to Seymour Fleming. Unfortunately, we know very little about Sophia Grey so I think a better comparison would be Mary Crawford or Caroline Bingley (£20,000 each, income around £1000/year).

Because yes, young marriageable women were basically required to live with relations. We know Sophia Grey, despite being of age, lived with guardians. When Mary Crawford can't stay at home because her uncle openly took his mistress publicly, she moves in with her half sister. Caroline Bingley seems to live with either her brother or her sister.

Now what would they spend their money on? Most likely clothes/jewlery: Sophia is described as, "a very fashionable looking young woman", and Caroline: "His sisters were fine women, with an air of decided fashion". Just like today, fashions changed and there were more expensive fabrics if you had money to spend. It's also likely that these women would employ their own personal maid.

As for other living expenses, we don't know if a portion of their incomes went to whomever they lived with, that's never said in Austen and I haven't read about it, but we do know that will and contract law was pretty evolved. For example, Eliza Brandon was married to Mr. Brandon (Colonel Brandon's older brother) so the family could steal her fortune, meaning that even as their ward they couldn't touch it (we don't know how much she had by the way). It's likely that a portion of the income of a ward's fortune would go to their upkeep as a child but that the principle would be protected. Which means young Henry and Mary Crawford probably paid their own way in their uncle's care.

Mary Crawford doesn't seem to do anything to improve the standard of living at the Mansfield Parsonage, but I could see that Henry and Mary's money helped pay for the Admiral's cottage near Richmond.

Now I could totally see a brother like John Dashwood strongly suggesting he wants room and board paid, but someone like Bingley I could see not caring at all. Also, it was common for friends and relations to just come and stay for two months or whatever, so the culture around semi-permanent houseguests would be very different than today. Lastly, I have read that guests were expected to tip the staff, but I'm not sure if that would extend to someone like Mary Crawford.

On that point, Caroline and Mary both live with pretty well-off relations. It might be different if their guardians were poor. We don't see that sort of thing in Austen novels. Even the Brandons had a good income, they just squandered it.

Lastly, travel and fun. Caroline Bingley goes with her brother to Scarborough, which was beach-side resort sort of place according to my annotated edition. It's possible she would pay for travelling, for tickets to amusements, etc. Especially since she is likely of age or near it (we don't know her age).

Anyway, not a historian but this is everything suggested by the novels.

#question response #rich women #caroline bingley #mary crawford #sophia grey

[mylittleredgirl]

i'm a little afraid to go near the ted lasso Discourse™️ but i've been thinking about this for weeks, and i really don't think ted's choice in the finale is entirely about henry.

like it's mostly about henry! (and wanting to be a good and present father, not perpetuate generational dad-related abandonment issues, etc.) but i haven't seen as much discussion about how ted also misses KANSAS.

he wants to go home! it's understandable. ted has been a fish out of water for three years. he wants to go back to sunflowers and barbecue sauce and people who tell the same kind of jokes. kansas has been an essential part of his identity throughout the show, and he has been separated from it. he wants to be a dad most of all, yes, but maybe he also wants to be Just Some Guy for a while.

like he could be a father in richmond. rebecca set the table for ted to move henry and michelle to england, where he could be a dad all year and support his family, and ted didn’t even consider it (or bring it up with michelle, when that offer could radically change all their lives and set up their son's financial future).

and while he has lots and lots of people who genuinely love him in richmond, EVERY one of them expects something from him. he’s their boss or their employee or the coach of their favorite team. he is never not ted-lasso-of-afc-richmond, from the moment he steps outside his flat in the morning. and i think my guy just wants to go home for a while and rest and be ted-lasso-of-henry-lasso’s-dad for a while.

maybe not forever!! he will definitely coach again and may decide to go back to england to do it someday. he was reading “how to change your mind” on the plane after all. the show did those of us who love ted as a character a disservice by making kansas kind of a theoretical place and not hinting at the broader community that ted must have there (like he must, being who he is, but none of it shows up in the text). but ted has been visibly exhausted this season and has always had a great love & longing for his home state. it was most clearly underlined in the amsterdam ep, but that has been there from the beginning, so i don't think it could have ended any other way.

#i mean it COULD have ended with every one of the himbos spending some dollars out of their millions #to be in the stands cheering on henry's youth soccer team #but you get me #and i have never known a single person from kansas who isn't very much From Kansas #like i'm from a state where people are like eh whatever i'm from there #it's news to me if we have a state flag or a flower #but everyone i know from kansas even if they couldn't get out of there fast enough is like every sunflower personally belongs to me

[xtruss]

One month after George Floyd was murdered while in police custody in Minnesota, Kris Graves photographed the remnants of the Confederacy in and around Richmond, Virginia. “One late night on statue-lined Monument Avenue, I came across projections by artist Dustin Klein on the monument of Robert E. Lee,” he writes. “We stood and watched a seemingly endless rotation of Black lives that had been ended at the hands of police.” Officer Derek Chauvin was convicted of Floyd’s murder one year later, but Graves writes that “this continues to be an epidemic in the United States.” Photograph By Kris Graves, National Geographic

Wildlife ranger Joseph Wachira comforts Sudan, the last living male northern white rhino, as he laid dying at the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Kenya in March 2018. “He died surrounded by people who loved him,” wrote Ami Vitale, who was there to capture his last goodbyes. She added that she hoped that Sudan's legacy “will awaken us to protect this magnificent and fragile planet.” Photograph By Ami Vitale, National Geographic

While documenting the treacherous waters and fishing culture of the Aleutian Islands, photographer and salmon fisherman Corey Arnold captured this image. “Every night in Unalaska, I'd spot this red fox near the side of the road, charming drivers with its irresistible cuteness into throwing it snacks out the window,” he writes. “On this evening, I spent a few hours watching this fox at work, using my headlights to light the scene.” Photograph By Corey Arnold, National Geographic

“I don’t know about you, but fireflies take me back to childhood,” writes Kiliii Yuyan, who captured these synchronous fireflies flashing at early nighttime in the forests of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Here, in the space all around me, a thousand tiny green-yellow lights are miniature lanterns, blazing long enough to be seen but always escaping my cupped hands.” Photograph By Kiliii Yuyan, National Geographic

This is a rare example of performing polar bears, a controversial but not illegal practice in Kazan, Russia. Polar bears are a threatened species and a powerful symbol for conservation—yet these bears are fitted with metal muzzles and their trainer holds a metal rod. Photographer Kristen Luce and writer Natasha Daly traveled the world to learn about the suffering behind the scenes of wildlife tourism. “Our intention is not to shame tourists who have had these encounters,” Luce writes, “but to arm our readers with information that will help them identify potentially abusive situations for animals.” Photograph By Kristen Luce, National Geographic

Left: “A reminder to breathe,” writes photographer, filmmaker, and mountaineer Jimmy Chin of this striking image of the Middle Teton in Grand Teton National Park. Photograph By Jimmy Chin. Right: The Caldor Fire rips through a valley south of Lake Tahoe on August 29, 2021. Lynsey Addario documented the California wildfire season—the second worst on record—on assignment for National Geographic. Photograph By Lynsey Addario National Geographic

Andy Lewis crosses a slackline high above the valley floor in Moab, Utah. Photographer Renan Ozturk dedicated this photograph to his late friend Dean Potter, who first envisioned a free-solo image like this "moon walk," captured without digital manipulation within a single frame. After missing his first chance at the shot, Ozturk writes that he “stumbled through the night, arriving tired and bloody to the moonset/sunrise location on the opposite side of the towers.” Photograph By Renan Ozturk, National Geographic

#Most Liked Photographs

[missmcspooks]

DEADLY WOMEN DAILY: KATE WEBSTER

Kate Webster committed one murder of a widow in her 50’s, Julia Martha Thomas, who she worked for as her maid. This was one of the most notorious murder cases during the Victorian period in the United Kingdom. It was alleged that Webster sold off the fat from her victim to neighbors and street children, disguised as dripping and lard. 

WHO WAS JULIA THOMAS AND KATE WEBSTER?

Julia Thomas was a former schoolteacher who had been widowed twice. Since her second husband in 1873, she lived alone in Richmond, London. Thomas had a doctor named George Henry Rudd who described her as a small and well dressed lady who was around 54 years old. She also had an “excitable temperament” and was described as eccentric by her neighbors. She also loved to travel and would often be gone for weeks and months at a time, not telling her family or friends where she’d be going. She came from an upper middle class family, so wasn’t super wealthy, but she liked to dress the part and wear nice clothes and lots of jewelry to try and make herself seem more high class than she really was. She also had a reputation of being a very harsh employer and was often too strict and mean towards her employee’s, causing her to have difficulty finding and keeping servants. Thomas hired Kate Webster to be her servant on January 29th, 1879. 

Kate Webster was born around 1849, in Killanne, County Wexford, near Enniscorthy. She was 5’5 and was described as a tall, strongly made woman, with sallow, large prominent teeth, and a very freckled complexion. There’s not much information about her childhood or early years, but she claimed that she was married to a sea captain, and together they had four children. She claimed that all of her children died, along with her husband, very close together. She was arrested and charged with larceny in Ireland  in December 1864 when she was only 15, and relocated to England in 1867. She was then sentenced to four years for penal servitude for larceny again in 1868. When she was released from prison in January 1872, she relocated to West London where she became close friends with her neighbors, the Porter family. 

Webster gave birth to a son on April 18h, 1874, named John W. The father’s identity was never confirmed as she named 3 different men who it could be. One of these men named Strong was actually her accomplice for future crimes she committed, pinning the blame on him. She claimed she was forced into committing theft and burglary for the sole purpose of supporting herself and her child, since he wasn’t supporting them himself. She moved may times around West London, under different names, Webb, Webster, Gibbons, Gibbs, and even Lawler. She was then arrested once again in May of 1875 under a whopping 35 charges for larceny, and was sentenced to 18 months in prison. Once she was released she was quickly apprehended again for larceny and was sentenced to a year in prison in February of 1877. During her time in prison, her friend Sarah Crease was caring for her child. Sarah worked for a woman named Miss Loder as a chairwoman in Richmond. 

When Crease became sick in January 1879, Webster took her temporary place in the Loder household. Loder had a friend, Julia Thomas, and knew she was looking for a domestic servant, and understood that Webster was only working for her until Crease was healthy again. She recommended her to Thomas, and when the two met, they quickly got to talking. Thomas did not know anything about her past charges, or really much of anything about her at all regarding who she was as a person. Very quickly after she began working in the Thomas household, their relationship began to deteriorate. Thomas didn’t like the quality of Webster’s work and would often criticize it, and was very rude and hostile towards her as well. Webster later claimed: “At first I thought her a nice old lady… but I found her very trying, and she used to do many things to annoy me during my work. When I had finished my work in my rooms, she used to go over it again after me, and point out places where she said I did not clean, showing evidence of a nasty spirit towards me.” As their relationship became more and more hindered, Webster became resentful towards Thomas, to the point where Thomas didn’t feel comfortable in her own home alone anymore and tried to get her friends to stay with her for a while. Thomas fired her, and she wanted her to leave the home permanently on February 28th. Thomas even wrote down this decision in her diary: “Gave Katherine warning to leave.” 

THE MURDER OF JULIA THOMAS 

Webster was able to convince Thomas to keep her on for an extra three days, until Sunday, March 2nd. She had Sundays as half days and was due to be back in time to help Thomas prepare for an evening service at her church. However, Webster returned late, which in turn caused Thomas to be late for her meeting, and an argument between them erupted. Members of the church would later state that Thomas seemed very agitated once she arrived at the meeting. They claimed that Thomas informed them that she was late due to her servant not being on time, and that Webster “flew into a terrible passion” from being fired. When Thomas returned home around 9PM, she decided to confront Webster. This was stated in her confession: 

“Mrs. Thomas came in and went upstairs. I went up after her, and we had an argument, which ripened into a quarrel, and in the height of my anger and rage I threw her from the top of the stairs to the ground floor. She had a heavy fall, and I became agitated at what had occurred, lost all control of myself, and, to prevent her from screaming and getting me into trouble, I caught her by the throat, and in the struggle she was choked, and I threw her on the floor.”

Webster then began to dispose of the body by dismembering it, boiling it in the laundry copper, and burning the bones in the hearth. Later in her confession, she described what she’d done: 

“I determined to do away with the body as best as I could. I chopped the head from the body with assistance of a razor which I used to cut through the flesh afterwards. I also used the meat saw and the carving knife to cut the body up with. I prepared the copper with water to boil the body to prevent identity; and as soon as I had succeeded in cutting it up I placed it in the copper and boiled it. I opened the stomach with the carving knife, and burned up as much of the parts as I could.” 

Over the next several days, she continued to clean the home and Thomas’s clothes to make things seem normal to everyone else, and to avoid any suspicion. But aside from that, she was also packing away the remains into a black Gladstone bag, and a corded wooden bonnet box. She wasn’t able to fit the head and one of her feet into the containers, so she instead disposed of them separately. She threw the foot onto a rubbish heap in Twickenham, and the head was buried under the Hole in the Wall’s stables, not too far away from Thomas’s home. Her head wasn’t found until 131 years later in October of 2010. 

Webster then began to briefly portray herself as Thomas, when she went to visit the Porters, her old neighbors that she hadn’t seen in nearly six years. When she arrived, she was wearing Thomas’s silk dress, and was carrying the Gladstone bag, and introduced herself as “Mrs. Thomas.” She told them that since meeting them, she had married, had a child, and became a widow and is now living in a home that was left to her by her aunt. She invited Porter and his son, Robert, to go drinking with her at a pub. On the way there, she disposed of the bag, most likely dropping it in the River Thames, while the others were drinking inside the pub. The bag was never found. She then asked Robert if he could help her carry a box from her home, and she dropped it in the River Thames. She explained a fake story as to why she was disposing of the box, and Robert wasn’t suspicious at all. 

Unfortunately for Webster, the box was found by a coal porter the following day. It was washed up in shallow water next to the river bank around 5 miles downstream. When he opened it, he found that it contained body parts that were wrapped in brown paper and immediately contacted the police. The police sent the remains in to have them examined by a doctor, and they discovered that the body parts were from a woman. Inside the box consisted of a torso (minus entrails), and legs (minus one foot). Around the same time, a human foot and ankle were found in Twickenham. It was clear to investigators that the remains all belonged to the same woman, but they had no way of connecting them to Thomas, nor did they have a way of identifying the body at all. 

An inquest on March 10th-11th resulted in an open verdict on the cause of death, and the unidentified remains were buried in Barnes Cemetery on March 19th. The newspaper dubbed this case the “Barnes Mystery,” and it was initially assumed that this body was used for dissection and anatomical study. 

JOHN CHURCH

Webster continued to live in Thomas’s home, wearing her clothes and dealing with tradesmen while still pretending to be Mrs. Thomas. John Church owned a pub called “Rising Sun.” He and Webster reached an agreement to sell him some of her furniture and other belongings to help her furnish his pub. On March 9th, he agreed to pay her £68, with a payment of £18 in advance. 

By March 18th, the neighbors had not seen Mrs. Thomas in two weeks, and had started to become suspicious. Her next door neighbors and landlady, Miss Ive’s, asked the delivery man who ordered the goods to be removed, and he responded with “Mrs. Thomas,” indicating Webster. She panicked and fled immediately, catching a train to Liverpool, and from there she traveled to her family who lived in Enniscorthy. It was then that Church realized he was tricked. While he was going through the clothes in the delivery fan, he found a letter that was written out to the real Mrs. Thomas. The police were contacted and the home was searched. Inside they found blood stains, burned finger-bones inside the Hearth, fatty deposits behind the copper, along with a letter that was left by Webster with her home address back in Ireland. A “wanted” notice was immediately sent out with Webster and her son's descriptions. Detectives soon figured out that she and her son had fled back to Ireland. They were able to trace Webster back to her uncles farm, and arrested her there on March 29th. After her uncle heard of her disposable crimes, he refused to home and care for her son, and he was placed in a local workhouse until they were able to find him an industrial school to place him in. 

TRIAL AND EXECUTION

On July 2nd, 1879, Webster went on trial at the Old Bailey courthouse. On the fourth day of the trial, the Crown Prince of Sweden, future king Gustaf V showed up to watch the proceedings. Webster tried to implicate John Church and even her former neighbor, Mr. Porter, but they both had solid alibis and were cleared. She pleaded not guilty and used her son as a reason as to why she could never have committed such a crime. However, her reputation and terrible defense was all against her. One piece of evidence specifically was held strongly against her, coming from a witness named Maria Durden, who was a bonnet maker. Maria told the court that a week prior to the murder, Webster said she was going to Birmingham to sell some property, jewelry, and a house that her aunt had left for her. This was interpreted as Webster premeditating the murder. 

After an hour of deliberating, Webster was convicted of murder. Better the judge gave his sentence, he asked her if there was any reason as to why he shouldn’t sentence her to death. Webster claimed she was pregnant, and the judge ordered her to be examined. The doctors claimed that she was not “quick with child,” which didn’t mean she was not pregnant, but that she was not at the time where she would be able to feel the baby moving inside of her. This was called the “quickening,” and at that time, they did not consider the fetus to be a baby, therefore she was still sentenced to death. The President of the Obstetrical Society of London protested at the use of “the obsolete medical assumption that the unborn child is not alive until the so-called ‘quickening’.” 

Webster made two statements confessing to her crime. In the first one, she tried to implicate the father of her child, as he was responsible for leading her into a life of crime. But the night before she was due to be executed, she recanted her statement and cleared his name, along with John Church and Strong, and gave her final and proper confession. Webster was hanged at 9AM on July 29th, at Wandsworth prison.

#true crime #true story #truecrime #true crime blog #true crime community #Crime #writing #writers on tumblr #Writerscommunity #blog #blogging #blogger #blog post #blogpost #murder

[truck-bike]

7 Southside bike/walk projects that I hope to live long enough to see happen

Jahnke Road improvements - multi-use path and sidewalk 

Traffic Calming on Forest Hill - bump-outs, pedestrian islands

Bike Lanes on Forest Hill - west of Jahnke to the highway

Missing Link Trail - connect Reedy Creek to Potterfield Bridge

Bike Lanes on Westover Hills Boulevard - south of the Nickel Bridge

Fall Line Trail - trail from Petersburg to Ashland

James River Branch Trail - rails to trails that would run from near George Wythe HS to Richmond Highway, eventually connect to Fall Line Trail

#rvabike #southrichmond #rva

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Saturday 15 December 1832

8 35

12 ½

fine mild morning – F49 ½° at 9 a.m. – settled with Wilson the joiner – breakfast at 10 with Marian – then talking to her and afterwards a little to my aunt at 11 – out at 1 5 - at Lidgate in 25 minutes – Mr Day came almost immediately and on seeing Miss W-‘s back said it was as much better within the last than he expected as it was worse in the fortnight preceding - there was then a little curvature between the shoulders - to go on rubbing as before –Humbug! I very civil civil to him  shook hands and half persuaded him to vote for Worley (instead of Briggs) another time - walked with Miss W- to Cliff Hill, and staid there about ¾ hour - left her at home to dine while I called to inquire after Mrs William Priestley - better - at dinner - would not remain in the drawing room for her to come to me, but followed the servants and per force entered the little far sitting room where she was - she jumped up angrily saying ‘I admit nobody here’  and came out to take me back to the drawing room - I in astonishment declared it was not John’s fault - begged a thousand pardons - said I would not stay - would not take her into the other room and came away and she having only time to ask if I would call again to which I made no reply - returned to Miss W- took a little dinner with her and sat with her till 5 50 - home in ½ hour at 6 20 - I had taken her letter from her aunt Ploughs that John brought last night  advised her not to advance money on loan   but buy such and so many of the reversionary shares as she could    she had begun the copy of a letter to her sister to ask her opinion and advice about living with me   if her sister approves she will do it and it is to be as a marriage between us   she kept to this  even after the letter came from Miss Bentley with a melancholy account of Mr Ainsworth   he again forcing herself on his notice by begging to know what he is to do with her letters to Mrs A- and if he is to give back the silver tea kettle Miss W- had given to Mrs A- and which the latter wished to revert to her    all a very unfair intruding of himself upon her remembrance and notice after all that has passed   as Miss W- herself allowed    she was melancholy for about an hour but then recovered her spirits amazingly     sat on my knee while I grubbled her with my left middle finger   she owned she loved me  seemed more satisfied and happy than usual reconciled to go abroad and if our being together was all but certain  depending only [on] her sister  the letter to go next Tuesday  might have the answer that day week we had talked of letting Lydia Wilkinson and Mr Fenton have Lidgate to be at Lidgate at 10 ½ on Monday to meet Mr Parker relative to Mrs Clarkes’ administrator accounts - thought as I returned    well it may or may not be   I will think or care a little about it till it is finally settled one way or the other and either way will do – Pickles here today but not his son – I suppose he did the bit of draining in the upper holm Ing bottom of wood filed adjoining Carrs’, and then perhaps finished laying causeway in Tilly holm – John finished planting out box and removed 2 laurels into the garden – dinner at 6 ½ - afterwards sent off to the ‘Honourable Lady Stuart Richmond Park, Surrey’ the H-x Guardian of this morning - read from 137 to 211 Forrester’s guide and wrote the whole of the above of today till 9 50 - then went into the other room - skimmed over the courier - told my aunt the little affair with Mrs Priestley - came to my room at 10 40 - fine mild day – F47° at 10 50 pm -   sat up till near twelve writing a copy of the letter for Miss W- to Miss Bentley

[whitepolaris]

Feral Humans

The subject of feral humans brings another, rather fascinating element to any discussion about Bigfoot. Some people feel that a certain percentage of Bigfoot sightings might actually have been humans who have, for one reason or another, entered a wild, animalistic state. Here are three cases of note.

Date: December 24, 1983 Location: Union County Jan Thompson reported seeing a very tall (over six foot) naked man with unhealthy-looking pale skin and a head of long, flowing hair, walking at night on Christmas Eve. The person seemed to be in a completely feral state and had blood in its hair and on its hands and face. Because of its animalistic facial features and behavior, not to mention solid red glowing eyes. Thompson was inclined to think of more as a Bigfoot-type creature than a human being, especially since Bigfoot reports are common in Union County.

Date: Summer 1985 Location: Estill County After local residents began reporting a manlike figure prowling in the woods near their houses, Bigfoot rumors began circulating like wildfire in the area. Police combed the wilderness and apprehended a man, a native of Irvine, who had been on the missing persons list for quite some time. According to reports, he was naked but covered with mud and foliage to the extent that vines and moss and lichen were actually growing in his hair and on his body. He was in a completely animal-like state of mind, could not or would not speak English, and had to be forcibly subdued. He was taken to Pattie A. Clay Hospital in Richmond. There were no further reports on his recovery in local media.

Date: Spring 1990 Location: Red River Gorge, near Slade, in Powell County The author encountered, face-to-face in the wilderness near Cloudsplitter Rock, an adult (in his thirties) Caucasian male, walking in the woods, naked but covered with mud, leaves, and vines, which were matted into his hair and beard as well, giving him an almost absurd "ZZ Top turn Swamp Thing" appearance. He walked with a hunched, apelike gait. He spotted me moments after I spotted him, and we stared at each other for what at the time felt like an eternity. Finally he turned and fled. His eyes seemed to show some intelligence, but he was still extremely animal-like and seemingly unable to speak. I made no effect to follow him. I have heard similar stories over the years from locals in Slade, about old "Mountain Men" who have lost their minds and are now living deep in the wilderness, reverted to an animal-like state.

#type read #weird kentucky

[coghive]

Phil Wickham Announces Nationwide Singalong Tour

Renowned worship leader Phil Wickham and Transparent Productions announce his nationwide 2023 Singalong Tour featuring special guests Matt Maher and Leeland Mooring. The 21-city tour will be sponsored by Compassion International. Tickets are on sale now – click here to purchase. This will be the fourth year that Wickham takes the Singalong Tour out on the road, and this year represents the largest Singalong tour yet with more dates spanning coast-to-coast. As a fan-favorite tour each year, the Fall 2021 tour sold-out 75 percent in advance of the show date. In continuing the momentum, the 2023 tour date for Leesburg, VA sold-out during the pre-sale weekend with other dates selling more than 50 percent of the tickets prior to the public sale. “I am so excited to announce that Matt Maher and Leeland Mooring will be joining me next year on the 2023 Singalong Tour,” shares Phil Wickham. “ It has been 13 years since we did a tour together, and it will be amazing to get back on the road with these incredible worship leaders and friends!” The format of this tour is unlike any other, with all three artists on stage for solo and collaborative performances throughout the evening. Wickham continues, “The idea behind these nights is to simplify and get back to the root of what we’re doing – a family gathering simply to celebrate and share the name of Jesus. It’s about all of us being together.”

The Singalong 2023 tour comes off the heels of Wickham’s wildly successful 2022 nationwide Hymn of Heaven tour, which featured 28 (of 32) sold-out dates across the country. His newest album release, Hymn of Heaven, has seen multiple No. 1 hits with “Battle Belongs” and “House of the Lord,” and his latest radio single “Hymn of Heaven” topped the chart at No. 1 and is still currently holding a Top 10 spot. Hymn of Heaven is his eighth studio album, and it has already amassed more than 415 million streams and more than 150 million video views since its release in 2021. “It’s been thirteen years since the first time Phil Wickham and I have played live music together, and between then and now, I’ve appreciated his friendship and ongoing commitment to the church,” states Matt Maher. “I’m honored to be a part of Singalong next spring (representing mere mortals a baritone). Phil and Leeland are incredibly gifted and I’m honored to be gathering people together to sing and pray in these cities!” Additionally Leeland Mooring shares, “We’re getting the band back together! When Phil called me and asked me to be a part of this tour with him and Matt I was ALL IN! Both of these guys have tremendously impacted my walk with Jesus through their songs and their friendship. As songwriters, all three of us know the value of atmosphere that some places have already embedded in them, in the walls, songs. Songs that haven’t yet been sung and life-changing moments in the air. We’re believing that when we gather with expectation and the sound of our voices in worship to God that Heaven will kiss the earth and we’ll never be the same! Wanna come and join us?” Don’t miss these three incredible worship leaders for this one-of-a-kind tour experience. See below for the complete list of the Singalong 2023 Tour dates for a city near you. Saturday, 1/21/2023: Temple Church – New Bern, NC Sunday, 1/22/2023: Relentless Church – Greenville, SC Friday, 2/3/2023: Southeast Christian Church – Louisville, KY Saturday, 2/4/2023: Reardon Auditorium – Anderson University – Anderson, IN Sunday, 2/5/2023: Church on the Rock – St. Louis, MO Friday, 3/3/2023: Crossroads Church Oakley – Cincinnati, OH Saturday, 3/4/2023: Elmbrook Church – Milwaukee (Brookfield), WI Sunday, 3/5/2023: Central Wesleyan Church – Holland, MI Thursday, 3/23/2023: Cornerstone Chapel – Leesburg, VA Friday, 3/24/2023: Cornerstone Chapel – Leesburg, VA – SOLD OUT! Saturday, 3/25/2023: Liberation Church – Richmond, VA Sunday, 3/26/2023: Fountain of Life Center – Burlington, NJ Friday, 4/14/2023: First Christian Church – Canton, OH Saturday, 4/15/2023: Eastern Hills Church – Buffalo (Williamsville), NY Sunday, 4/16/2023: LCBC Church – Manheim Campus, Manheim, PA Friday, 5/5/2023: Rocky Mountain Calvary – Colorado Springs, CO Saturday, 5/6/2023: Calvary Albuquerque – Albuquerque, NM Sunday, 5/7/2023: Green Acres Baptist – Tyler, TX Friday, 5/19/2023: Visalia First – Visalia, CA Saturday, 5/20/2023: Redemption West – San Jose, CA Sunday, 5/21/2023: TO BE ANNOUNCED Read the full article

[heavenbykvar]

Richmond, Virginia

“Here it is, Areum. His letter,” said Eunmi, handing over the precious letter John had written her.

Heaven’s heart raced as she grabbed ahold of it. She wondered if she should open it before or after the dinner.

As they walked back to their hotel, she decided she’ll open it tonight, after the dinner, before bedtime.

“I bet that man of yours is a handsome gentleman,” said Eunmi with a smile.

“He is.”

“I am glad to hear. Have you told him about who you really are?”

Heaven nodded. “He knows about that.”

“Just as I know about who he really is,” thought Heaven. She shuddered a bit, hoping Eunmi did not take notice of it. 

Hours passed, and it was finally almost time to go to the home of Emma Dixon. The pair prepared themselves in the hotel room. 

“You make plain dresses so lovely looking. The average woman couldn’t do that,” stated Eunmi, admiring her princess. 

Heaven always felt strange with these type of compliments, nonetheless she thanked Eunmi. 

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

The Dixon Residence, Richmond, Virginia 

Heaven surveyed the exterior of the Dixon home. It was indeed pleasant to the eyes, but she guessed much more pleasant to actually live in. She heard the continuous barking of a dog coming from behind the home. It sounded like the poor creature was chained. 

“That poor thing, and I thought these people would at least have empathy for their dogs.”  Heaven mumbled. The memory of Crows Bank started to come back to her, but she forcibly blocked and bottled it. There was no time. 

“Of course they aren’t, just remember how they treated their slaves, their fellow humans.” said Eunmi, with a frown. 

The frown on Eunmi’s pretty face disappeared when an older woman, who Heaven accurately guessed as Emma’s mother, opened the door.

“I believe you are the Miss Heaven that my daughter and that wonderful man has been talking about, you and the other woman, please come in.” said the woman with a smile. She spoke with a drawl that Heaven found fascinating. But something else had captured her attention. 

“What ‘wonderful man’ could she be talking about?” wondered Heaven, glancing at Eunmi as if she knew the answer. 

Suddenly a sound of tiny feet running was heard and a little girl with long blonde locks appeared at the older woman’s side. She stared at the two women, so strange and foreign to her. 

“Who are they, grandmother?” asked the little girl.

Heaven’s heart became filled with uneasiness. She immediately knew who this child was. The daughter of John and Emma. 

“The girl with the orange hair is your mother’s new friend. They’ll be eating dinner with us tonight. Go to Esmeralda, child.” 

The little girl nodded, still staring at the two guests. Then she turned and ran off.

“I apologize for that, that was my granddaughter, little Juliet.” The woman laughed a little, remembering the irony of her granddaughter’s name and the ordeals her family suffered. “You guys may wait for a bit.” And then the woman walked off to another room. 

Eunmi wrinkled her nose when she was sure the older woman wasn’t near. “I reckon the future daughter you and your fiancé have will be much more beautiful and refined than that yellow haired little witch. Looking at us like we’re freaks of nature.”

Heaven almost laughed at her comment. “Oh, not now Eunmi. Not when we’re in their home.” Heaven wondered why Eunmi detested the innocent little girl. 

“Areum, something doesn’t sit right with me. I don’t know what it is, but something isn’t right.”

Heaven was starting to feel it. She wanted to assure Eunmi it was just her anxious thinking. But she simply bit her lip.

“This ‘wonderful man’ the older woman was talking about...I want see who he is before the dinner.” 

Heaven nodded and just stood there, somewhat awkwardly, as she watched Eunmi creep down the hall. Eunmi pretended she was studying the paintings on the walls as she walked, one to the next. 

Heaven took a deep breath, looking down at her feet.  What else could she do?

Eunmi heard two voices talking to each other in a room. A younger woman’s and an older man’s, talking excitedly. She recognized one voice as Emma’s. 

Eunmi slowly peeked into the room where the voices were coming from. She saw Emma talking to a much older man. The ugliest man she had ever seen, in her opinion. 

Eunmi walked fast but quietly to Heaven. 

“That Emma is speaking to this man, wavy white hair, very wrinkly, very tall, and has a cane in his hand. Maybe the ‘wonderful man’ that keeps talking about you. Or so the woman says.”

Heaven gasped in shock and horror, realizing she and Eunmi had fallen into a trap.

“Oh my god, Eunmi. I’ve been foolish for thinking Emma may have had a change of heart. That man is Mr. Jackson, the man who bought me!”

Eunmi was so angered she wanted to punch and kick the once fine furniture of the Dixon’s. She controlled herself, though. Being a court lady once she learned how to control her anger. 

But her anger was valid. That wretch of a blonde was up to no good. 

All Eunmi did was clench her teeth. She wanted to badly and painfully rip off Emma’s perfect blonde locks but couldn’t do so, especially in her own home. And most of all, Heaven’s safety came first.  

“We have to get out of here, before anything else happens.”

And so the pair snuck out. Never mind the dinner. 

The women arrived back at their hotel, and the first thing Heaven did was to run into the bathroom. Eunmi heard the unpleasant sound of her throwing up into the trash. 

“Areum, are you okay?” asked Eunmi, walking into the bathroom to support her. She bent down and began gently rubbing the petite redhead’s back up and down. 

“What am I asking, of course she is not okay right now... “ Eunmi thought.

Heaven slowly got up from the floor. 

“I’m sorry for that..” 

“You don’t need to be sorry for anything, Areum.” 

Heaven slowly made her to the room and sat on the comfortable chair, watching Eunmi leave the room. A minute passed and Eunmi returned with a fresh glass of water. She set it down on the smaller table beside Heaven.

“You know, I have actually forgiven that man. Mr. Jackson.” stated Heaven, breaking the silence. 

Eunmi raised her eyebrow. “The slaver? You forgave a slaver?”

“I think he’s rather a misunderstood man. He’s lonely. He wants female presence. I believe he’s never been married. I saw nothing of a past wife or a child in his home. No photographs, no memory, nothing. And I always want to forgive those who wronged me. So I forgive him, but that does not mean I want to be in his life.” 

“No misunderstood man buys a girl as property. Loneliness doesn’t excuse it. And what about Emma? Or those imperialists?” 

Heaven bit her lip. Eunmi was right, she couldn’t deny that. 

“I have a hard time forgiving Emma right now. I like to say I will forgive her fully in the future, at the right time,” Heaven sighed. “And I have forgiven the imperialists long ago. They’re my people by birth. Those are my mother’s father’s people.” 

Eunmi hated any slightly-positive talk about the Japanese, as she hated them just like any other royalist. She wouldn’t dare to try to change Heaven’s thoughts towards them, though. She knew no one can choose what family they’re born into. And aside from that, her princess was more of an Aeworan than a Japanese anyway. 

Eunmi said nothing else. Heaven did not like the awkward silence. She carefully pulled out John’s letter to change the topic. “I was going to read it after the dinner..” 

Eunmi nodded and handed Heaven a knife. She cut the package open gently and took the letter out. She began reading, the butterflies inside her very much alive and fluttering. 

Eunmi saw that Heaven’s golden-amber eyes widened while she read the letter from her beloved fiancé. “What is it, Areum?” 

“W-wait. Let me have a moment to re-read.” 

Eunmi hoped and prayed it was not terrible news. 

Heaven set the letter down, a tear running down her right eye. And then the petite redhead smiled. 

“He told me not to write him any more letters,” said Heaven. Eunmi became puzzled, quietly asking herself “why is she smiling then?”

It was as if Heaven knew and answered the question in Eunmi’s mind. ”The reason for that is because he is on his way to Kansas at this moment. And he wants to meet me there. We have to go, Eunmi.”