#because i think that's the point. whether jamie knows it or not

[26labrd]

What do you think of Jamie Bell's version of Tintin in the 2011 movie? I personally find Jamie's delievery of his lines and the facial expressions he makes to be satisfying and attractive so I love it. However, I do recognize some differences in the way movie Tintin acts compared to the comic version.

In the comics Tintin has an easygoing personality and is rarely annoyed. He's very patient yknow. While the movie Tintin looks very done with everyone lol. He's patient too, except that it's the bitch-im-this-close-to-snap kind of patience lol. I don't have a problem with it, I think it adds great comedy, plus it's a realistic & relatable reaction considering how the guy is surrounded by airheaded/distracted characters.

They got his curiosity/obsession and quick-thinking and some other tiny personality details right though. The movie Tintin doesn't feel far away from the original one, it just seems less "childish" and more relatable? Movie Tintin feels 25+ years old to me, meanwhile comic Tintin feels 15-20 years old because of how happy/energetic and "unbothered" he seems with many problems? (Although I think Tintin being 25+ makes more sense even though I know Herge thinks of him as 16-17, smth like that)

A scene I can think of where Jamie's Tintin acted so much like the comic version was when the captain asked him how much he knew about the unicorn and he replied with "Not a lot, that's why I'm asking you" he looked & sounded so cute and very comic Tintin-ish imo.

All in all I love Jamie's Tintin and ngl watching him makes me feel butterflies lol. But I can't help compare him to the comic Tintin and be reminded of their differences. I wonder if that's because of the script or just Jamie's way of portraying him?

Anyways, I wanted to know what you think. Maybe you can write a comparison post about Jamie Bell and Jean Pierre's portrayals of Tintin? Not like a "this one is better" comparison, just an analysis. Yeah just a suggestion.

Thanks for reading this far and I'm excited to read your thoughts on this topic!

sorry it took a little while for me to answer this! it was hard to organize my thoughts – which, it turns out, i have a lot of, so i’m putting this under a cut.

overall, i liked his performance, yeah! i think he’s a fine tintin. i think they did some things really well with him, like his curiosity and drive, as you mentioned, as well as his confidence and self-assuredness (the scene that comes to mind for these is the “we’ve got one bullet” scene). i know jamie bell is a dancer, too, which helped him nail the physical aspects of playing the character.

as for the differences, i think the main ones you listed – his impatience, annoyance, and less easygoing nature – just have to do with the stories they chose to adapt. in crab with the golden claws, tintin is indeed often shown losing his patience with the captain; in unicorn he gets cranky when barnaby and sakharine don’t stop pestering him, and when the woman hogs the phone booth in the rain. it wouldn’t be my personal go-to for a tintin portrayal to have these traits so forefront, but it provides more depth to his character/gives him more of a personality and makes him more well-rounded.

bc like. tintin in the comics is kind of bland LOL. which i'm pretty sure was mostly by design. we see him develop and gain more of a personality as the series progresses but for a lot of it he is kind of left blank. so the script writers had to fill in these gaps and round out the character in order to make the sort of protagonist that could carry a feature-length film. and i think they did a decent job! generally i think movie-tintin’s traits make sense and feel like a natural progression of the comics character. he is still recognizable as tintin, but just an older and more grown-up version of his comics counterpart, like you said.

that being said . there is just something about this version of tintin that is just a little bit off. and i cannot put my finger on it. this section will be more incoherent because i'm really struggling to put it into words lol. but he just doesn’t Feel like tintin to me... like. i think he’s a little too serious tbh . i wish they had let him get a little playful with it, but tonally i dont think it would have worked. and i think there’s just a lightness and a warmth that’s missing from this portrayal. not that i wanted him to be happy all the time or whatever, but he feels closed off in a way that tintin never has to me, so it feels just a little off to see him portrayed like this. like there’s a difference between closed off and reserved, and i think movie-tintin is closed off, whereas comics-tintin is just reserved. i don’t know if that makes any sense. at this point i'm just going off vibe rather than anything concrete that i can cite lol im sorry this is so nebulous

AND HONESTLY i think for me it also has to do with the fact that they made him do that posh english accent 😭😭😭 it just feels so wrong to me. like maybe i'm just too used to hearing him with a canadian accent (shoutout to the 90s cartoon) but. yeah. and i know that’s not jamie bell’s natural accent either, so it feels doubly weird

all this to say yes, i do like jamie bell as tintin and i think he did a wonderful job, and i think that this version of tintin makes sense, even though he doesn’t quite fully Feel like tintin to me

i don’t know that i'll write a comparison post, just because it seems kind of daunting and because i'm not super confident in my grasp of tintin as a character. which i know is ironic to say, given that i just wrote a bunch about tintin as a character, but this post is largely just opinion, and for something as “official” as a comparison analysis i’d definitely have to go back and reread/rewatch to be able to say anything with any confidence. it's certainly something i'd like to do at some point! i have a lot of thoughts about jean-pierre’s tintin as well and would love any excuse to talk about him. (spoiler alert: i think jean-pierre feels like tintin way more)

but anyway, thanks for your question!

#huge disclaimer it has been a while since i’ve watched the movie #changed my mind a lot while writing this and honestly i still don't know that i'm 100% sure about everything #i always second-guess myself when it comes to this movie lol #i don’t think i could pinpoint whether the differences are script vs performance tbh #idk how much input jamie had but surely they influenced and informed each other on Some level #ask #i could also just make a standalone post gushing about jpt's tintin. he's literally everything to me #i do think another thing that makes the movie and comic versions feel so different despite being very similar on paper #is just. the nature of their respective mediums? like the tone and the look of them #the comic version with its cartoon style and vibrant colors is automatically going to give off a different impression of tintin #when compared to the life-like realism of the movie #which is. kind of the point. it's an Adaptation it's bound to be different #that being said i think 60s tintin manages to nail the vibe of the comics despite being a live action medium #because that's what it was going for! and the 2011 movie wasn't trying to do that #ANYWAY. need to stop before i write another essay in the tags #long post #why am i scared to post this 😭 i just hate sharing my opinion #thoughts #liittleghostt

[moonstruckme]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do poly!marauders with a clumsy s/o? Thank you!

Thanks for requesting love!

cw: blood

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“I’m going to purchase one of those leashes for unruly toddlers,” James says, thick lashes nearly touching as he squints down at your hand. “And I’m going to keep it around my wrist at all times.” 

“It won’t be as good at catching me as you are,” you point out. You do your best not to wince as he picks a piece of gravel out of your palm, but his eyes flick up to you anyway, an apology in them. 

“No, but at least I’ll be able to keep you close.” 

You laugh a little. “I trip whether you’re nearby or not.” 

“Beg to differ.” He sounds bitter, but James has always had a terrible poker face and the uptilt of his lips betrays him. He spreads ointment over the cuts on your hand before bandaging it. “If I was with you, this would’ve never happened. Guaranteed.” 

“Yes, it’s all your fault.” Remus comes in from the kitchen, maneuvering carefully so as not to get the hot mug he’s carrying anywhere near James. He sets it next to your thigh on the bathroom counter. “Jamie,” his tone is chiding, a bit tired, “why have you started with her hands? She’s bleeding down to her ankles.” 

“It’s nearly dried anyway,” you say, looking down at your shredded knees. Remus feels too bad for you to give you one of his worse reprimanding looks, but his eyes convey tremendous exasperation nonetheless. 

“Because I knew she’d need her hands to hold her tea,” James replies, bumping Remus’ hip lightly with his. “Ease up, I’ve got it. Did you make yourself some tea too?” 

Remus glances towards the kitchen the way an old captain might gaze at the sea. “I thought about it…” 

“Do that,” James says. He finishes up with your other hand, bandaging it carefully. “Actually, would you mind just putting a kettle on? I’ll have a cup, and Sirius might want one too.” 

You frown at that, but neither of your boyfriends see, Remus going into the kitchen with renewed purpose and James smiling slightly to himself as he finishes wrapping your hand. 

“One of these days,” he whispers, backing up a bit so he can work on your knees, “you’re going to have to sit on the couch and feed Remus chocolates for all you put his heart through. We’ll be lucky if the next time you fall he doesn’t have an attack.” 

“What’s Sirius coming here for?” you ask. 

“Well, he does live here.” 

You give him a look, but he doesn’t glance up from cleaning the blood off your shin. “He’s supposed to be shopping with Marlene.” Accusation and betrayal lines your words. “You texted him?” 

James looks up at you now, sympathetic if not quite sorry. “You know I had to. He would’ve murdered me if he’d come home and seen you all bandaged up and nobody had told him.” 

“You could take him,” you grumble. 

He laughs. “I don’t know, sweetheart. He fights dirty.” 

You laugh too, though it’s more a humorous huff. “He can’t come home every time I trip,” you say, twisting the string of your tea bag around your index finger. “It’s not like I need to go to the hospital.” 

James works a larger piece of gravel out of your knee, eyebrows knit together by compassion. “He worries,” he says simply. “He wants to come home every time you hurt yourself, though if you recall, I didn’t tell anyone about you banging your head on the microwave door yesterday, or about when you fell on the stairs last week.” He looks up, grinning when you shrink, abashed. “But when you fall this bad, it’s a bit harder to hide. Sorry, lovie.” 

It’s a double apology, for ratting you out and for the sting of the ointment he smears over your knee. You hiss through your teeth. “Fair enough,” you say. James smooths a large band-aid over the series of shallow cuts, kissing the skin just above it for good measure. “I just don’t like to worry him. Any of you, if I can help it.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t think you can,” he says. You get what he means. Remus is a worrier, Sirius even more so, protective by nature and nurture. And each of your boyfriends cares about you too much to ignore how often you hurt yourself, even if you really think they should be desensitized to it and annoyed with you by now. “But I’m trying to get you cleaned up before he sees you, so hopefully that’ll help.” 

Like James has just issued a summons, the rumble of Sirius’ bike comes from outside. James grimaces as it slows to a stop. 

“I hate that fucking thing,” Remus growls from the kitchen. 

James shoots a sad smile in that direction. You think that you might not single-handedly cause Remus’ heart attack if Sirius gets there first. 

“Where is she?” Sirius calls as soon as he comes in the door. “I assume there’s a blood trail for me to follow?” 

James chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t that grim,” he shouts down the hall, and a second later there are heavy footsteps coming toward you. You brace yourself. 

“Fucking hell.” He halts just in the threshold of the bathroom, then seems to change his mind, striding over to you. His eyes are glued to the bloody mess of your uncovered knee. “Darling, what did you do?” 

You knew what to expect from him, and still your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to. “I missed the curb going out to get the mail,” you say. 

Sirius’ eyes lift to yours, widening. “You fell into the road?” You nod. “You could’ve been hit by a car!”

“There weren’t any cars.” There are almost never any cars on your street, and he knows that. 

“You’re lucky there weren’t,” he says anyway, holding his hand out. You place one of yours in it obediently, palm up. There’s a bit of blood marring the beige bandage, and Sirius makes a terribly soft pitying sound. “Your poor, lovely hands.” He runs a careful finger over the covering. “How bad was it?” he asks James.

“I told you, not horrific,” James says, finishing with getting the debris out of your knee and twisting the cap off the ointment. He looks up to be sure you’re ready before he starts smoothing it on.

“Stitches?” 

“Oh, tons. She’s held together more by thread than skin at this point.” 

You roll your eyes, but Sirius coos, “My poor sweetheart,” and grabs hold of your face to plant a kiss on your lips. You must look as pleasantly surprised as you feel, because he does it again, bending forward to avoid bumping his hip into your knee. 

His thumb sweeps across your cheek as he pulls away, brows furrowed. “Does it hurt?” he asks, and now the mirth has disappeared from his tone. You don’t know how Sirius does that, going from teasing to not in a blink. 

“Not so badly,” you tell him. 

He hums, stroking your face again. “Would you tell me if it did?” 

You feel your lips twitch, and Sirius’ eyes narrow like he knows your answer before you’ve spoken. “Probably not,” you admit, “but it really doesn’t.” 

He stares you down for a minute, murky eyes scanning yours for traces of untruth, his dark brows lowered. You reach up to slot a piece of hair behind his ear, and he cracks, mouth kicking up at the corner. 

“Alright, drink your tea before it gets cold.” 

“I’ve actually made tea for everyone,” Remus calls, not from the kitchen this time but from the living room. “And snacks, so please come eat them.” 

James grins, touch moving up the back of your knee to your thigh as he stands. “Excellent,” he says eagerly. “You’re all fixed up, m’love. Let’s go take care of Rem now.” 

You start to hop down from the counter, but Sirius says, “Wait, wait!” and grabs you by the hips, keeping you in place. “Can you walk?” 

You nod, because duh, your legs are scraped, not broken, but Sirius looks to James, the both of them frowning thoughtfully. 

“Best not to risk reopening them,” James decides, scooping you up off the counter. 

You huff a laugh, rolling your eyes. “Thank you,” you say, rather than this is deeply unnecessary and you’re being ridiculous. James seems to hear both anyway, planting a sloppy, smiley kiss on your cheek. Sirius, satisfied, follows you down the hall. “I didn’t mean to make you my manservant, I swear.” 

“Happy to do it,” he says. “Now drink your tea, it’ll make Rem feel better.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders era #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[finelinevogue]

spreading the love

summary - harry’s fans LOVE you

pairing - fiancé!harry x reader

word count - ~2k

The fans absolutely loved you.

Probably more so than Harry sometimes.

You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.

Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.

You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.

And everyone adored you.

Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.

You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.

You loved how much they loved your Harry.

“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.

Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.

“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”

Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.

ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛

“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”

You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.

harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?

“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”

You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.

“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”

haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?

“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.

You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.

Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.

jammiiie: Are you single please?

“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.

Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.

He gets clingy. And you love it.

You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).

harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍

“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.

“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”

ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time

harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded

“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”

harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷

kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33

justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N

liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others

harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️

view all 394 comments

harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL

harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!

y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛

harryfan3 we stan y/n

••••••••••

London was quite busy today.

Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.

Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.

It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.

Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.

Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.

“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.

“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.

“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”

“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.

“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”

“She will be. I promise.”

You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.

You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.

“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.

You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.

“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.

“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.

You smiled at your handy work.

He looked even more handsome now.

As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.

You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.

“She had good taste in music.” He joked.

You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.

You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.

“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.

“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.

“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.

“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.

“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”

“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”

“Wembley night 4.”

“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.

You always did this.

You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.

“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.

“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.

“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”

You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.

“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.

“Sign of The Times in the rain.”

“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”

“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.

“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”

“Emma.”

“Emma.” You smiled.

“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”

“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.

“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”

“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”

“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.

“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.

“They okay?” Harry asked.

“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.

After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.

Positive interactions just made for better days.

Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.

comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other

comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP

comment 3: they look so happy i will cry

•••••••

Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.

Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.

Until you.

You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.

Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.

“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.

“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.

You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.

“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.

“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”

“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.

You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.

Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.

harriesunite: these are my parents

“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.

“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.

“You’re such a dad, apparently.”

“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.

“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.

“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.

“Soon.”

“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #fic rec harry styles #harry styles fluff

[itsnotgray]

gray’s fic recs

my tagging/recommendation system is a mess beyond the point of fixing, so i made a masterlist. (i’ll slowly be adding fics to this!)

- an asterisk is next to players who play for the ahl team of said nhl team

- if works focused on more than one person, they’re listed under the other people, but only tagged in the first one you see in the list.

- also, apologies if the links don’t work correctly, it is in fact my first time making a masterlist

NHL/AHL

Anaheim Ducks

Jamie Drysdale

hey roomie by @emaanemaa

- trevor and jamie threesome. that's right, that's all it took to get you to go read it.

Trevor Zegras

chameleon by @hischierhaze

- listen- if you're someone who, whether it be consciously or unconsciously, changes themselves and their personality for those around them, or you have a history of it- please read this. I promise you, you won't regret it.

now that we don't talk by @sc0tters

- it's a toxic relationship with trevor, of course I'm gonna eat it up (she might end with trevor... or she might not. you'll never know if you don't read it.)

hey roomie by @ emaanemaa (fic linked above under jamie)

the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

I- if you're not already keeping up with this series... where have you been? every update is laugh out loud hilarious, and leaves you itching for more.

cruel weather- apart of the penalty box series by @starsandhughes

cruel weather gets it's own link because of the amount of emotional damage this inflicted upon me.

Arizona Coyotes

Boston Bruins

Buffalo Sabres

Devon Levi

like it very much by @jackhues

there aren’t many devon fics (which there totally should be), but the way i squealed when i read this one. further affirmed the fact that i think he’d be the best bf.

Calgary Flames

Nikita Zadorov

that scar hurt by the way by @swissboyhisch

- listen…. i’m the farthest thing from a flames fan, and can wholeheartedly admit it was an adorable read.

Carolina Hurricanes

Chicago Blackhawks

Colorado Avalanche

Columbus Blue Jackets

Adam Fantilli

to you, my adamo by @hischierhaze

- it's adam's birthday + his debut, can you blame me for crying?

his return by @hischierhaze

-this made me cry. but in making this, i'm convinced anything kei writes with the fantilli brothers makes me want to cry from either just how sickeningly sweet it is, or of course, sadness.

tiny dancer au by @letsgetrowdy43

god when i say sunny and adam have my heart- i mean it. they’re sososo special to me.

Dallas Stars

Wyatt Johnston

our song by @lovinbarzal

hands down one of my favorite wy jo fics/au’s. it’s wyatt x a barzal sister, a pairing i wouldn’t have thought of, but works so well!

Detroit Red Wings

Edmonton Oilers

Florida Panthers

Matthew Tkachuk

waking up in vegas by @doc-pickles

- matty t x hughes!sister is a dynamic i didn’t know i needed.

Mackie Samoskevich*

perfect girl by @dmercer91

- this had me feeling things like no other... a big hint as to why? she's shared.

Los Angeles Kings

Alex Turcotte*

who does it better? by @harry-hollands

one of the cutest social media au’s in a while (technically has two parts, but they don’t have to be read together)

Minnesota Wild

Montreal Canadiens

Kirby Dach

here with you by @sc0tters

- it's amber's writing + kirby, what's not to love? (if that's not convincing enough, maybe the line, "I will follow you to the ends of the earth," is.)

Nashville Predators

New Jersey Devils

Jack Hughes

timeless by @babydollmarauders

- if I hadn't originally read this in the middle of the grocery store, I can almost guarantee that I would've cried from just how heartwarmingly adorable this is.

out by @babydollmarauders

- equipment manager x jacky boy- aka a trope I never knew I needed, but now crave after reading this.

ballad of a homeschooled girl by @babydollmarauders

- hands down one of the best pics I've probably ever read in terms of conveying emotion. my stomach was in knots the entire time, attesting to just how realistic the writing is.

never grow up by @aliaology

- i'm sorry but you're not human if you don't get even the tiniest bit emotional at any fic with "never grow up" as the song. BUT A FIC WITH THE BROTHERS? this rendered me emotionally unavailable for a solid 20 minutes.

medía management au by @babydollmarauders

the media management au is an ongoing series staring mr jack hughes and his lovely girl, dove! the updates always bring a a smile to my face, and more than likely make me laugh out loud.

4:41 am by @sweetestdesire

listen, as much as i adore brynn’s smut like no other, her fluffy, soft and sweet fics just do something to me. she writes them so detailed, and consistently has me craving for soft moments with a significant other (a significant other i do not have)

John Marino

stay for a while by @sc0tters

- when i talk about made me feel things, i mean it. amber never fails in writing panty-dropping smut, while also having an thought-out plot.

Luke Hughes

welcome back by @leaentries

- this literally made me swoon. a protective lukey- what's not to love?

nobody's love by @eyesthatroll

- my heart was in my throat while reading, and my emotions were all over the place. regardless of how emotional it left me, it was amazing and deserves all the love.

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

summer aches by @starry-hughes

- this fic makes me want a luke to take care of me when i get headaches, triggered by heat or not

what’s not to like? by @starry-hughes

- queen ellen and jimmy are a little apprehensive of you…

jack’s best friend by @lvrzegras

okay listen- any of the brothers x their best friends is great, but jack’s best friend x luke… it just hits different, yk?

Nico Hischier

I never could've seen you coming (I think you're everything I could've ever wanted) by @writingonleaves

- this is probably as close to a literary masterpiece as a fanfic posted on tumblr will ever get

will you take a moment? promise me this (that you'll stand by me forever) by @writingonleaves

- listen- it's apart of the universe she began in the fic above. I have the fic linked under nico (because the oc eventually ends up in a relationship with nico, as seen in the part above), but this is sososo found family heavy. if found family is your trope, then this is your fic

New York Islanders

Mat Barzal

it's nice to have a friend by @youunravelme

- put me through the emotional wringer in the best way possible.

winnie martin's favorite person by @ilyasorokinn

- god- i cannot even begin to describe how cute this is. all i can say, is that I need more pictures of barzy with kids... for science of course.

New York Rangers

Ottawa Senators

Philadelphia Flyers

Pittsburgh Penguins

Sidney Crosby

she was the (red) devil by @crosbyscurls

- hockey meets f1 is already a dream combination… but sid x f1? absolutely amazing

San Jose Sharks

Seattle Kraken

St Louis Blues

Tampa Bay Lightning

Toronto Maple Leafs

Vancouver Canucks

Quinn Hughes

these michigan summers by @lukevangelista

i feel like the only way your not aware this series exists, then your new here. because if you haven’t read this, where have you been? this is for sure one of my top three series’ on tumblr, finished or unfinished. will in fact, forever have my heart. (currently unfinished)

the sun to my moon by @ghostfacd

this fic is part of an au! i highly, highly recommend checking it out- quinny + a grumpyxsunshine trope, what’s not to love?

never grow up by @ aliaology (fic linked under jack's name)

- older hughes sister watches her brothers grow up + never grow up = tears

Vegas Golden Knights

Washington Capitals

Dylan Strome

it's never too late to come back to my side by @lukevangelista (a series)

- one of my recent favorites. particularly geared towards those who think back on old friendships (...and constantly overthink on whether you should reach out. spoilers- it's never too late)

Winnipeg Jets

NCAA

University of Michigan

Luca Fantilli

missing you, quietly by @bitchinbarzal

- emotional torture in the best way possible. i re-read a concerning amount

i lost him by @hischierhaze

- made me cry- but in a good way

baby 101- name reveal by @hischierhaze

- it's dad!luca... yeah that's right, now that you have that cute thought in your head, you kinda have to go and read it

I tell you that I think im falling back in love with you by @writingonleaves

- this fic is sososo special to me for so many reasons- and I think you should totally read this fic to figure them out... just saying

opposites attract au by @dmercer91

this is a link to the head anons for the au- but please go read this sweet au. luca and landen are one of the sweetest pairings.

Nick Moldenhauer

sundays are for textiles by @drewsbuzzcut

- super cute read, and it's apart of an even cuter au

all american lace by @drewsbuzzcut

- also apart of that super cute nick au she has- but this part was not so cutesy (it was at the end). had me on the edge of my seat, and tears building in my eyes. the type of angst you physically feel- but with the type of ending that makes up for it (trust me, it does!)

Mark Estapa

icy roads by @nicohischierz

the simplest explanation i can offer is that this broke my heart- but i loved it anyway!

Boston College

Gabe Perreault

princess!gf x gabe perreault by @yankstrash

- these two are on my mind at least three times a week. i aspire to become amelia- aka find someone who is as down bad for me as gabe is for “his meels”

#jamie drysdale x reader #trevor zegras x reader #jack hughes x reader #luca fantilli x reader #luca fantilli imagine #adam fantilli x reader #luke hughes x reader #john marino x reader #nick moldenhauer x reader #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #dylan strome #anaheim ducks #new jersey devils #umich hockey #new york islanders #penalty box series #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes #wyatt johnston #john marino imagine #dallas stars #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

[crazyk-imagine]

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?" 

"That's not a can-do attitude." 

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted." 

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute." 

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you." 

"After we go out to lunch." 

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open. 

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind. 

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened. 

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again). 

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders. 

"How long have you been feeling like this?" 

You shrug. 

"How long?" He asks again. 

"A few weeks." 

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-" 

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises." 

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?" 

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?" 

"You have a few of the signs." 

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in. 

"A while ago." 

"So, you know?" 

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house." 

"Oh, honey." 

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again). 

"What do you mean?" 

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks. 

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since." 

"He should know." 

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.” 

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now." 

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away." 

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?" 

"Yeah." 

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this." 

-

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again. 

It wouldn’t be the first time this week. 

-

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him. 

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please." 

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew." 

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please." 

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door. 

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness. 

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance. 

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you. 

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?" 

No one responds. 

"What fucking happened?" 

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all." 

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?" 

-

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours. 

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is. 

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you. 

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in. 

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad. 

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened. 

"Why is he here?" 

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side." 

"How did he know?" 

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help." 

"Isn't family only allowed in here?" 

"Apparently you two are engaged." 

You owlishly blink. "What?" 

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since." 

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?" 

"I think so." 

Jamie moves a little in his sleep. 

"That's my cue to leave." 

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here." 

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up. 

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh. 

"Sweetheart?" 

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad. 

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?" 

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?" 

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat. 

"Jam-Jam?" 

A sniffle fills the room. 

"Jamie, look at me." 

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me." 

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt." 

"No more, Jam-Jam?" 

"I was going to tell you." 

"What? After the birth?" 

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out." 

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?” 

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once. 

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears. 

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.” 

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue. 

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.” 

“What do you mean?” 

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.” 

“I made one.” 

You tilt your head. “What was that?” 

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-” 

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?” 

He nods, scratching his head. 

“Come closer.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues. 

“Come here.” 

He scoots the chair closer. 

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?” 

He nods. 

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?” 

“No.” 

“Do you want to be with me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you going to leave any time soon?” 

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.” 

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.” 

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?” 

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-” 

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?” 

You shamefully shake your head. 

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle. 

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?” 

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?” 

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.” 

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?” 

“Not in the least bit.” 

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.” 

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.” 

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles. 

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence. 

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say. 

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.” 

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.” 

He shakes his head. 

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug. 

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you. 

“No. You didn’t.” 

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?” 

He nods, “’course I do.” 

“Give me your hand.” 

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you. 

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?” 

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?” 

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.” 

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.” 

“He?” 

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?” 

“Have you met yourself?” 

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.” 

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh. 

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.” 

“Everyone?” You repeat. 

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.” 

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.” 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now. 

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.” 

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.” 

“We can.” 

“Atta girl.” 

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in. 

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment. 

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled. 

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?” 

You smile, “I’m better now.” 

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?” 

“Yes, coach!” 

“And now I’m scared.” 

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out. 

“Oh fuck.” 

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks. 

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.” 

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.” 

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.” 

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs. 

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend. 

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie. 

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.” 

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand. 

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.” 

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?” 

“No,” Ted shakes his head. 

“Not at all, Beard.” 

The door opens and heads turn. 

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.” 

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks. 

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud. 

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out. 

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do. 

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap. 

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.” 

“I’m your dad.”

 “We’re your dads,” Beard adds. 

You glance over at Jamie. 

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.” 

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in. 

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see. 

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks. 

“Jaim?” 

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again. 

Ted smiles behind his phone. 

“We should probably give them some time alone.” 

“You think?” He asks. 

Beard nods. 

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.” 

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off. 

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long. 

“I think we should name it Jamie.” 

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue. 

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.” 

“Why not? It’s a good name.” 

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?” 

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.” 

“Good.” 

“Was that everything?” 

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents). 

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles. 

“Is there a card?” 

“I hope so.” 

Now you’re confused. 

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles. 

“I’m lost.” 

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair. 

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.” 

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.” 

“You did?” 

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile. 

“And he let you?” 

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

“Yea- really?” 

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.” 

“I guess you’re right.” 

“Of course, I’m right.” 

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.” 

“You lie.” 

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not sorry.” 

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine. 

“I’m not. I’m just being me.” 

“Yeah, and that’s mean.” 

He smiles and shakes his head. 

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.” 

“Girls can like boy things too.” 

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.” 

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.” 

He groans, “please stop.” 

“Never.” 

You stiffle a yawn. 

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.” 

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.” 

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest. 

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch. 

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier. 

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.” 

“Jam-Jam?” 

“Hey,” he clears his throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better. What were you doing?” 

He shrugs. 

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x you #crazyk-imagine

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt.4 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

[wc: 7.8k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8]

the atmosphere in the training center's gym was thick. not just because of the humidity but because everyone was in genuine awe as they listened to trent talk about what happened a few days ago at their match.

it took him three days to think the situation over. nobody in their right mind would ask whether or not someone had a partner without there being an ulterior motive, right? right??

your question had kept him up for hours at night, but it was so nonchalant that he didn't know if he was supposed to think anything of it. it didn't make sense. so he turned to help from his teammates, and considering that half of them were in relationships, they would give him solid advice. (which was laughable)

"she wants you," dominik deadpanned which caught everyone's attention but nobody was convinced.

virgil crossed his arms and looked him with his eyebrows quirked. curious to hear his reasoning. "and how would you know?"

dominik snickered. "because I do. she's one of those girls who flirt nonchalantly. to her, she might just find it fun to tease you right now with no actual intention but it'll get to her."

once again the room fell silent as eveyone tried to wrap what he said around their heads.

"is this guy serious?" robbo asked and pointed to dominik who just shrugged from his position on the mat.

just then someone walked into the gym, ready to bring forward their own opinion. "if she likes you then her intentions will be clear."

the spotlight was now on the group's manager but his opinion wasn't appreciated at all. apparently it was too outdated.

"women don't work like that anymore boss," ibou retorted and got a choir of agreement but their boss still shook his head.

he turned to look at trent, who looked more troubled than before, and he couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "trent, do you like her?'

the right back who was deep in thought broke out of his daze that was utter turmoil. "I mean I don't even know her. we've had like two conversations."

"did you enjoy those conversations?"

the team began to grow invested in the little back and forth and stopped what they were doing to pay more attention. it was nothing short of heated- the way that jurgen was firing questions at trent and how he nearly buckled with each answer.

"I mean yeah." he focused his gaze on the floor. "I find her amusing I guess. but maybe that's just me."

"oh no, it's not just you," ali scoffed as he recalled their conversation the other day. "she is quite the charmer. very easy to talk to and nothing short of playful."

trent snapped his fingers back at ali in agreement. "yes. that."

conversation broke out in the gym again with everyone voicing their opinions on the matter to try and figure out whether or not trent actually liked her. but he kept on saying, "I don't know. I just met her."

jurgen got up from one of the chairs in the room and gave everyone a wave, but he knew they weren't paying attention. "thursday."

that single word brought their attention to the door where their boss was standing with a lopsided smile on his face.

"we're playing at raiffiesen on thursday," curtis prompted in an attempt to get an answer and jurgen nodded, his attention turned to trent who wasn't playing the match that thursday.

"jamie won't be joining us because her pitch is due that morning. do what you want with that information but if you like her, I'm sure you'll know in no-time. but take your time and get to know her. she's quite the character."

you were taking an uber to work today instead of driving by yourself. It had been a while since you took public transport, you genuinely considered it such a hassle and just took the blow and paid some extra cash for an uber.

the reason for this, however, was strange. before you left the house this morning, you had gotten a call from jurgen asking you if you could accompany martin diggle, who was the head of coaching at the academy to the academy that afternoon seeing as they were considering broadening their promotional content for the boys on that side.

you agreed of course but the confusion in your voice was clear even after you put the phone down. why did you have to go with him? there were plenty of other staff with more experience than you anyway, but you brushed it off and focused on today's main goal.

getting your pitch approved.

so when you walked into the office with your head held high and a look of determination on your face you hadn't expected to be hit with a, "I see where you're coming from and the first project is fresh. we'll get back to you after further discussion. thank you ms carter."

it was nothing short of a blow to the gut. it wasn't a rejection per se, but it wasn't an approval either and that didn't sit well. how long were you going to have to wait? was marvin just being nice? was your pitch that bad? was it too impractical? were you being selfish?

"was it that bad?"

your head shot up at the question. you lifted your gaze from the the floor, tightening your grip on your laptop bag that was slung over your shoulder. a look of confusion settled on your face, expecting to see martin since you'd be going with him.

instead you were face to face with trent, his back leaned against his car- a black range rover. he pushed himself off the side of the car and shot you a smile to which you furrowed your eyebrows.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, not taking a step further.

a dry chuckle fell from his lips. "you mean at the liverpool hq? the hq of the football club that I've been playing for nearly my entire life?"

you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes knowing that he got you right where he wanted you. okay so maybe it was a dumb question, but it made sense. he had no reason to be there— he should've been at home resting.

"hilarious." you faked a smile. obviously he knew what you meant by the question and decided to tease you but you weren't in the mood.

trent couldn't help but stare at you, his eyes roaming your features and taking in as much of you as he could to cure his little predicament and the many questions swarming through his mind.

he still didn't know much about you, and stalki- i mean viewing your socials could only get him so far. he knew that you had an older sister, he knew about your ex boyfriend michael, he knew that you had and amazing sense of style, and that you loved your job with a passion.

but that wasn't enough to feed his curiosity. he wanted to know more than just the surface level attributes. he needed to know more.

"are you even listening to me right now?" you asked while waving a hand in front of his face. you'd been talking for quite some time and you were convinced that he wasn't listening at all.

trent shook his head with an amused smile and opened the car door he was standing infront of. "get in."

your eyes lips parted in shock. "I'm waiting for--"

you were rudely cut off by the feeling of your phone vibrating in your pants pocket and you quickly answered it, yours eyes still lingering on trent who knew exactly who you were talking to.

"no it's fine. he just got here anyway." your tone was soft and polite but the look that you were sending the right back was nothing of the sort.

when you heard martin hang up you hurriedly put your phone back and made your way into the passenger seat of trent's car, still holding the door open for you. "aren't you just adorable?"

he smiled at your mocking tone and sent you a look that made your heart jump. "well aren't you just an ego booster?"

when you got to the academy that early afternoon you didn't really know what to expect. but oh gosh were you left in awe. talk about prestigious.

your eyes roamed the buildings interior, the occasional gasp leaving your mouth which would get a stifled laugh from trent. he walked beside you with his hands in his pockets, a huge pang of nostalgia washing over him as he reminisced on his academy days.

"I can't believe you actually got the opportunity to train here," you gasped when you stepped out onto the field, where you saw the u18's doing their drills.

he let out a knowing hum and lead you over to where the academy's u18 coach- jay spearing was stood, leading the group of teenagers. if there was one thing that you knew then it was thar liverpool's academy players were nothing short of astonishing.

trent, curtis, jarell, and soon you could feel that a few new kids would be added to the list.

"what do we have here?" jay asked in surprise when he saw you and trent approaching, a smile present on his face when he saw the right back.

you watched as the older man brought trent into a hug, patting him on the back adoringly and sharing a few words before trent gestured to you. "this is ms c--"

trent's voice subtly cracked in uncertainty when he stopped mid introduction, which was strange. he turned back to you and then to jay with a smile. "--this is jamie. the head of our p.r team."

an impressed hum left jay's lips as he recalled what jurgen had said not to long ago about you. "It's nice to meet you jamie. I hope trent isn't bothering you too much. he's a bit of a handful."

he nudged the younger on his arm and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. "I'm afraid that's an understatement."

trent put his hand over his heart in mock offence and gasped. "I could say the same about you."

the three of you spent a few more minutes talking about the team and how jurgen had been coming over quite a bit to view some of the youngsters for reserves, seeing as they were playing exceptionally well.

"he's had his eye on bradley, beck and doak for a while now. kaide gordon as well, but he's been out due to an injury."

you both listened to jay give his rundown on the recent observations while you watched the group of boys do their usual target practice. however, it was obvious that trent was scouting and you were thinking of ways to get these boys out in the public.

"do you think they'd let me take them out on a field trip?"

the question caught trent's attention as he turned to look at your side profile. "a field trip to where?"

you shrugged your shoulders, not too sure yet. "a hike."

"a hike?? are you craz--"

"--shush trent they're coming." you shut him up immediately by hitting his chest, your attention fixed on the group of boys walking your way.

now normally if you were to see a professional footballer, probably the blue print for the new generation and beside him a girl who was on the p.r team and a social media influencer of sorts there wouldn't be much debate as to who you'd want to meet.

both you and trent knew that, and you couldn't see the way he was mentally preparing himself to be greeted and questioned while you stood there silently and observed the interaction.

or well so you thought. what you didn't expect was for trent to get a head start and greet the group of boys, praising them for their hard work and offering to take a few pictures so that you could post them and it actually made a lot of sense.

you got your phone out and got ready, but to your surprise he was shot down. "we're actually here for jamie."

"what?" you both said in unison in visible shock.

"we're fans," one of the boys said sheepishly and you felt your heart melt.

trent was dumbfounded. he didn't know what to say or do, still trying to accept the fact that he was openly rejected. but you on the other hand tried to play it off as cool as possible.

it was normal for fans to approach you in public, but the fact that you had a fanbase and supporters was something that would always come as a shock. you didn't do much to deserve it, or at least that's you thought.

a smile drew to your lips, making sure to send trent a look. "well aren't you just an ego booster?"

spamjam._. added to their story

"so, how did it go?"

you jumped up at the sound of maya's voice echoing through the empty apartment. "son of a bitch."

all the lights were off so you assumed that she had gone to bed already and tried to shut the door as silently as possible, but here she was. sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and the lamp on.

you dropped your bags to the floor and tried to lessen the fright that you had gotten but your sister couldn't have cared less. "It's nearly 10. no way you just went for ice-cream."

you felt like a rogue teenager at that moment. mentally preparing yourself for a scolding and at least 2 weeks of being grounded. "well sorry to disappoint," you joked and took off your jacket. "the ice cream was amazing though."

maya couldn't believe your answer and tore the blanket off her body to follow you into your bedroom. she watched as you got your things ready so you could shower and proceeded to bombard you with as many questions possible.

and you gave her the same response each time. after the academy, you took a drive to kill some time, got ice cream, and then you were dropped off. literally nothing happened.

"we just talked about normal things--" you tied up your hair, "--the weather, the state of our economy, why the earth is flat. nothing strange."

maya pulled a face and shook her head, "I hate you so much, ugh."

it wasn't long before you made yourself comfortable in bed, creeping underneath your blankets and succumbing to the warmth and security that it brought you. your mind drifted elsewhere for a moment and you were back to your anxious state.

the pitch.

it had only been a few hours but you were starting to rethink the entire idea. you could say that it was rather selfish of you to use yours and trent's little bet as a form of entertainment but it was a win-win situation. the team would get to practice but in the form of games and so much more fun, while getting their publicity.

that was entertainment.

you were just about to put off your phone and head off to sleep when you got the email. the green light.

dear ms carter,

apologies for the late outreach but I had a few things to sort out back at the office.

regarding your pitch however, I'd like to happily inform you that your pitch was approved by the directors as well as jurgen who was more then delighted to give it a go.

I trust that you have the logistics sorted out. and that you are able to start filming by october 9th seeing as the team have a busy match schedule for the rest of the month, so we'll need your undivided attention on our schedule as well.

I am excited to see how you take charge of this project and I hope it leads in your favour.

sincerely,

marvin colesmen

spamjam._. added to their story

trentarnold66 replied to your story

trentarnokd66 seriously, project carter😭

spamjam._. I am not about to get copyrighted by mbappe

and besides, I got ali on my back which means I'm about to beat the shit out of you

trentarnold66 all this for some content. talk about dedication. and you're still gonna lose😪

spamjam._. it's going to be fun. trust me.

trentarnold66 hm, I'll take your word for it. congrats btw 👏

spamjam._. stopppp. you're making me blush😊

trentarnold66 oh that's horrible. I'm gonna have to start keeping my distance.

spamjam._. you're not that great bro

trentarnold66 we all have our own opinions

#trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer imagine #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #footballer x reader #liverpool x reader #fanfic #football imagine #footballer x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #cherrei writes

[its-time-to-write]

Hi y’all! This is my last unprompted angsty fic for a little! Gonna go back to our usually scheduled hijinks that are sitting in my request pile, I wanted to do this one first. I write all these as a way to deal with things that happen in my own life, whether it’s stressing about school and work, stupid romance, great romance, family, health, whatever, and I wanted to say (yet again) thank you for all the support. Sometimes I still can’t believe that you all like what I write but hey, there ya go

It’s funny, because my most popular fics are the ones that have been written directly out of my actual life. The ones that start out hard-to-deal-with, or with real, palpable heartbreak. The endings are often different because real life isn’t guaranteed a happy ending, but I’m allowed to take the past and see what it would be like if things went differently.

My characterization of Jamie is based on the only person I’ve ever really loved, which is why I can write his voice so clearly. I first watched Ted Lasso and was surprised at how similar they were, stupid hair and all. A lot of these fics are my way of archiving our story and immortalizing parts of it, as well as reminding myself that the love was there. It didn’t last and it wasn’t supposed to, but it was there.

Now, what’s real and what’s fiction? I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that it’s more than you might think and less than you might hope for.

So if you read this current fic and think, “huh, that was a really specific premise,” well I got news for you! It is. I’m in the first part of my journey on this, the early stages, and this story is not the way I want things to go for me. But I’m hoping that by creating a good ending out of a rough beginning, I can better face whatever lies ahead for me whether I approach it on my own two feet or with the assistance of some really sick wheels.

Anyway, enjoy this or skip it, it won’t hurt my feelings!

how to love being alive

Jamie’s at training when he gets the call. He barely registers the words on the other side when he’s cursing something awful, enough to make Roy Kent blush, and saying something about an emergency before speeding out the door. He pauses for a moment to look up an address in his phone, then he’s tearing out of the parking lot in a manner that puts Colin to shame. 

To summarize, he’s not acting like himself. 

He pulls up to a chiropractor of all places and the girl at the front desk must be able to tell who he’s here for because she just points to a door down the hall. Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never moved this quick in his life and wonders if this could translate to the pitch. Sure he’s fast, but he could always be faster. 

He bursts through the door to see you borderline catatonic, staring at the floor while a doctor pats your arm. She looks at Jamie and says, “Let’s chat for a minute outside,” before he has a chance to say a single thing. Jamie can’t tear his eyes away from you as the doctor leads him out and shuts the door. 

“Thought emergency contacts were for like, hospitals and shit,” he says. 

The chiropractor shakes her head. Jamie notes that her name tag says “Dr. Hadley,” and has a vague memory of you mentioning her a few months ago. 

God, it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“We’re not confident she’s in a fit state to get herself home,” Dr. Hadley says. “Her headspace is a little messed up, which is to be expected. Usually people come to these types of appointments with some moral support.”

Jamie asks, “What kinds of appointments?” and Dr. Hadley tilts her head at him. 

“You are Mr. Tartt, aren’t you?” she asks and Jamie just scoffs because he can’t decide between responding obviously, or telling her no, he’s not Mr. Tartt, that’s his father. He’s just Jamie. 

Dr. Hadley knows who he is because she doesn’t live in a hole in the ground, so she doesn’t ask for identification. She takes his scoff as permission to keep talking, so she says, “She’s here for her MRI results. We’ve been in the process of treating a protrusion on her spine.”

Jamie is positive everyone in this office must think he’s on drugs because Dr. Hadley is talking like he’s supposed to know this, but for the life of him he knows you’d never said a thing. 

“Your girlfriend has been in a severe amount of pain over the last few months, and we’ve finally been able to see the extent of the problem. Apparently she thought it would just go away, but it never did. So now she’s here with us.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie says automatically. Because it’s true, innit? You’re not. You’ve been broken up for a month because he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take the irritation at attending his matches and the tossing and turning in bed at night and the fact that you were wound so tight that you’d snap at the most minor offenses. 

You hadn’t been surprised when Jamie said he couldn’t do it anymore, it’s over, and at the time he had wished that you’d shown just a tiny sliver of emotion. After all, a year and two months is a long time to be with someone for you to coldly slide him his key and then turn away as though he were a stranger. 

He could have sworn there was a glimmer of tears in your eyes, but they’d looked that way for a bit now so maybe it was just allergies. There’s no reason for you to have been in the verge of tears for the entire month before the breakup, right?

Right. 

But he can’t think about that now because Dr. Hadley is frowning at him in a way that so comically reminds him of Roy’s sister that he has to bite back a laugh. 

Everything’s all twisted. 

“I certainly hope your split was amicable,” Dr. Hadley says. “You’re the only one listed as her emergency contact. She needs someone to get her home safely.”

“Right,” says Jamie. “Yes. Fuck. Right. Um, what exactly is wrong with her?” 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head. “That’s her personal information to share with you at her prerogative. And we should probably go see her, I’m sure she doesn’t want to be alone for long.”

Jamie snorts at that. This doctor doesn’t know you at all. If you’ve received any type of bad news the last thing you want is people hanging around. 

Jamie used to pride himself on being the only one you’d let into the bad-new bubble. 

You don’t count with those other people, you’d said once while wrapped around Jamie so tight he thought he’d have to call Ted to bring a crowbar. You said, I don’t have to pretend around you. I don’t ever get tired of you.

Jamie bitterly thinks that that statement turned out to be a lie, but he shakes it off because you’ve only been separated a month, and apparently he’s still your emergency contact for a doctor he didn’t know you had been seeing and fuck if you didn’t look like the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen. He’ll pretend it’s ok for as long as it takes to get you home and comfortable, and then he’s calling this office to get his number switched off. 

So he follows Dr. Hadley back into the room as she softly says your name in order to break whatever trance has you studying the carpet like your final exam is in ten minutes. 

You can barely look at her as she whispers something about going home and being gentle, to which you nod and finally look at Jamie. 

He wonders if you recognize him, because the stare you have is so vacant that you might as well be looking at a stranger. 

“Is she on drugs?” he asks because it looks like you’re on drugs. 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head and holds out her arm to help you up. “No, she’s just in a lot of pain. And emotional distress. It’s a killer combo, and she’ll need extra gentle handling for a while. No sitting for too long, no bending, no lifting. There’s a back support at the front desk for you to take.”

Jamie thinks he hears something pointed in the way Dr. Hadley says, extra gentle. What, like he doesn’t know how bad an injury can take you out? He’s in the Premier League for fuck’s sake. He knows how to deal with a strained muscle. 

Dr. Hadley transfers your arm over to Jamie’s so smoothly that he barely understands what’s happening as she ushers you both out the door, thrusting a small foam roll into Jamie’s free hand. 

“For lumbar support,” she says. “Won’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jamie’s pretty sure he’s said thanks as you climb in the car and then he’s in the drivers seat and it’s dead quiet. 

“Right,” he says to the silence. “What the fuck.”

You’re picking at your nails something fierce. Jamie has to fight the urge to take your hand in his. A month of separation is not long enough for this shit. 

“Can you just drive?” you ask in a broken voice. “I don’t want to be sitting for longer than I have to.”

There’s a new pitch in your voice, one Jamie’s never heard before, so he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t turn on the radio or a playlist or a podcast or anything, just drives in silence. He knows if it’s quiet long enough, you’ll talk. 

He’s the opposite. He doesn’t need time to crack wide open, just a kind touch or a soft glance and he’s an open book. He was always shocked how early into your relationship you’d figured that out. A soft, “What’s on your mind, Jaim?” and he was unloading about whatever stress or fear he had. 

He’s two minutes away from your flat when you break the silence. “I have gradual onset paralysis,” you say in a voice devoid of emotion. “‘Gradual onset’ means it happens over time. Paralysis means, well…paralysis.”

Jamie can hear what you’re saying and he understands it, but what catches him is the way you’re like nothing more than a hollow body. Not cracking a joke, not picking a fight. Just- empty. 

Jamie says a long and drawn out “Fuuuckk,” because what else can you say? It’s not really his business to comfort you or to pry, except he’s the one the doctor called, so he allows himself one question. 

“How did it happen?”

Last he knew, you were healthy as a horse. 

“Two disks in my spine popped,” you reply, still in that same awful emotionless voice. “They’re not really sure how, could’ve been any number of things. Anyway, it got into my nerves. And my spinal cord. And it’s messing things up and it’s only going to get worse. The scans were to see if they could operate, because sometimes you can remove the shards. Or whatever it is. But I guess they can’t, because if they tried I’d definitely be paralyzed. So all I can do now is be in pain and wait for my legs to shut down.”

Jamie doesn’t know how to respond to any of that but he’s saved from thinking of an adequate response because he’s at your flat. 

It was smart of you not to sell it when you’d moved in with Jamie. He wonders if you knew the breakup was inevitable. 

He hops out and opens the door like a gentleman, offering his hand like he’s some Mr. Darcy-type shit, except you had both agreed that Roy was Mr. Darcy and he was Bingley. So it doesn’t fit at all except as soon as you’re done clutching his hand so you can get out without unnecessary pain, his hand flexes itself like he’s in that damn movie. 

It wasn’t even a conscious choice, just a thing his hand decided to do, and he definitely thinks he’s going to have to talk to Ted about this. Or maybe Sam. Sam knows shit and is good at empathy. Maybe he’ll know what to say when your ex-girlfriend tells you she’s not going to walk ever again. 

Jamie follows you to the door as you fiddle with the lock and push it open with a sigh. For a moment he doesn’t know if he should go inside, but it smells like honey and cinnamon because it’s the beginning of fall and he thinks that he should at least make sure you’ll be alright. 

He notices you’re moving weird. All stiff, like. You’re trying to get an icepack out of the freezer but you can’t maneuver in a way that’s comfortable so Jamie grabs it and hands it to you. 

You mumble, “Thanks,” and Jamie catches a glimpse of the perpetual glimmer in your eye. 

“D’you need me to call someone?” he asks. “I can get Keeley down here. Or fucking… Ted. Or Colin.” He doesn’t say Sam, because he needs Sam. He can’t talk to Sam if he’s here with you. 

You shake your head. Jamie wonders if it hurts to talk, but he remembers how much you hate the sound of your voice when you’re crying. 

You take a slow, shallow breath to collect yourself. “I’m ok,” you finally say. “Not much anyone can do, and you’ve got training. I- I didn’t know they’d call you. I still have to switch your number with someone else. I’m probably going to ask Keeley since my family’s still far away.”

“Right,” Jamie says. Not much else to say. Except- 

“You were seeing that bone doctor when we were together, and you didn’t fucking say anything?”

It’s accusatory and he knows it, but he can’t for the life of him say it kinder. Ted’s always on about communication and shit, and that is not communication. 

You shuffle over to the couch and use it to help you lay face down in the floor. The icepack is precariously balanced on the small of your back. 

“Didn’t know how to tell you,” comes your muffled voice. “Least, I figured out how to tell you too late. What was I gonna say, ‘Sorry I’ve been a complete bitch to you for four weeks, I’ve got shit floating around in my spine that makes me hurt so bad I want to die?’ Sounds fucking stupid.”

Jamie wants to say, Swear jar because it’s a long-standing joke, but he catches the words right before they reach the tip of his tongue. 

“You could’ve said something,” he replies instead. “Chronic pain’s shit. It’s really shit and it makes you act like shit to the people you care about. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason.” As the words are coming out of his mouth, Jamie is reminded of a time when the roles were reversed, and you were giving him the “excuse versus reason,” speech. 

You’d said, You’re dad’s an abusive prick, Jamie. Makes sense that you’d have a lot of negative emotions. 

Fuck, if only you’d said something sooner. Maybe this would be something that you’d be cracking jokes about, or Jamie would be holding your hand, or he’d be laying right next to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

But your muscles spasm so that thought gets banished as you bite on your forearm in an effort not to yell. 

“Fucking hell,” Jamie says. “I don’t think you’re sorted on your own. I’m calling Ted.”

He walks to the other room so he can pretend he can’t hear your protests. 

—

Ted leaves training to Roy, Beard, and Nate. What’s the point in having four coaches if one of ‘em can’t leave for family emergencies?

Sure, you’re not actually family, but that’s Ted for you. He doesn’t do casual friendships. 

Jamie is out the door like a shot as soon as Ted knocks with a “Sorry, coach,” that Ted barely has a chance to wave off. 

Ted doesn’t say much once he’s inside, just rambles on about training and Kansas and Henry. He’s clattering around in your kitchen and you can’t find it in yourself to care what he’s doing so you just keep laying on the floor, willing your back to stop hurting. 

Finally, he comes over and sets down a smoothie in a short glass with a straw. 

“It’s so you can drink it without moving,” he explains. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” you say more to the couch legs than to Ted.

He sighs from where he’s crouched down next to you. “You don’t really have a choice, darlin’. You have to do this. The question is, are you gonna go through it alone?”

You shrug as best as you’re able. 

“Wrong answer,” says Ted, standing up. “You’ve got a whole crew of people here who are gonna root for you and support you with whatever you need. All you got to do is ask, sweetheart.”

Ah, fuck, you’re crying again and Ted can definitely tell because your shoulders are shaking. He’s pretty sure you’d want to save face so he stands up and says, “Beard’s coming over after training. Says he wants to figure out how to modify your house for a wheelchair or something. Thought I’d make us all dinner so we’re not so hangry when he mentions taking an ax to anything.”

The mental image of Coach Beard chopping down your stairs is enough to make you smile a little through your tears.

—

Waiting is really shitty. Like, really shitty. Every day is the same thing: tingly legs, shooting pains, phantom cramps. The worst was when Dani and Richard were over and you stood up to get something from the fridge, and your legs decided at that moment to lose feeling. You panicked with your arms held out for balance as you swayed back and forth for a moment, willing your feet to fucking move. They did, but not before Dani and Richard were on you in a flash, ready to catch you if you fell.

“Well that was weird,” you joke in an effort to cut the tension. They laugh, but you still catch their worried glance.

“You do not have to put on a brave face for us,” Dani says. “If you want to joke, we will joke. But if you want to cry, we will cry too.”

“You can cry,” Richard says, “I will just pour more wine.”

You laugh. There’s been a steady stream of Greyhounds at your flat for the last week and a half. Everyone and their mother (quite literally) has come by to see you. Your own parents were coming in a week to stay indefinitely while you sorted things out.

You wonder if it’s easier to lose control of your legs slowly or all at once? On the one hand, you at least have notice. But on the other hand, the long, drawn-out waiting feels like slow torture. Every day you wake up from restless sleep and experimentally wiggle your toes. Every day, you check off one more box on your mental calendar as you count down to a date that doesn’t even properly exist.

The only person who hasn’t visited is Jamie. You don’t blame him, though. Keeley’s come round almost every single day and has been successfully switched to your emergency contact. She’s the one you’re calling as soon as you discover you can’t move.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting closer. Your legs fall asleep more frequently and things are all numb. It’s like you know you’re in pain, but it’s not quite registering with your nerves.

It fucking sucks.

—

You don’t believe in intuition like spirits and all that, but you believe in it in that your brain can pick up things that you couldn’t if you were actually trying.

That’s why you’re pretty sure this is it.

Walking is pretty much a no-go right now, so you stiff-leg yourself to the couch and sprawl out as comfortably as you can.

You call Keeley, and she’s over in no time.

“Hi babes,” she says as soon as she’s through the door, “Can I call Rebecca for girls’s night?”

“Sure,” you say, “Might as well live it up.”

Keeley replies, “Great! She’ll be here in ten minutes,” and you laugh, really actually laugh, because of course Keeley’s already called her.

Rebecca swoops in all smiles and no sympathy which is great because if one more person pushes their lower lip out at you, you’re going to scream. She’s brought drinks and Keeley’s pulling out snacks and you’re going to talk and giggle until you fall asleep, ready for what the morning has.

“Is Shandy making a move on that one player?” Rebecca asks Keeley from the couch. 

“Nah,” Keeley calls back, “He said he wasn’t interested right now. Still hung up, I think.”

“What player?”  you ask. You know what Shandy’s like, and you feel for the poor guy.

Rebecca and Keeley are silent before Keeley says, “You wouldn’t know him.”

“Bullshit,” you reply. “I know everyone on that team and I know you haven’t signed anyone new recently. Is it Colin?” 

Rebecca shakes her head and gives Keeley a look. Keeley shrugs. “You’re the one who brought it up, babes.”

Rebecca turns to you. “It’s Jamie,” she says. “She’s been trying to bag him ever since Zava showed up.”

You shake your head. “She’s not right for him. He deserves someone better than that.”

Keeley’s back from the kitchen and scrutinizing your expression. “And what exactly do you mean by better?” she asks.

You laugh. “Oh no, not me. I wasn’t talking about me. No, I’m not- he needs someone different. Like, I don’t know, Roy’s sister, maybe? She’s great and a doctor to boot. Very caring too.”

“You’re caring,” Keeley says slowly, “And anyway, Molly doesn’t like him like that. They’re just friends.”

“Hang on, are you putting yourself in the same bracket as Shandy?” Rebecca interjects.

You shrug. “I was a complete bitch the last month we were together. There’s no excuse for it. I’m just surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“You were in fucking pain!” Keeley exclaims. “You said you weren’t sleeping and everything fucking hurt and you couldn’t even think straight.”

You grab a handful of candy from a bowl. “Keels, I appreciate the sentiment, but I majorly fucked it. Like, there’s no going back. So he can date whoever he wants as long as it’s not fucking Shandy. Can we please, please move on?”

Rebecca’s eyes are narrowed but they both acquiesce. “Keeley, what about your love life? I’m sure it’s boring as usual.”

Keeley shrieks and smacks her with a pillow. “Fuck off,” she replies. “I’ll have you know it’s going very well…”

—

You were right. You wake up still on the couch tangled in Keeley’s arms, and the standard toe-wiggle just… doesn’t happen. It’s quiet, the early morning type, the kind where the sunlight isn’t so harsh and birds are chirping softly and all of Richmond hasn’t quite got up to begin their day. 

As you look at your unmoving toes, the first thing you feel is a rush of relief. The waiting’s over, you think. 

You look over to the wheelchair that’s been leaning patiently against the wall all this time. Here’s the first day of forever. You’re in no rush for it to start, so you let Keeley’s little snores and Rebecca’s heavy breathing lull you back to sleep. 

—

It’s definitely a learning curve. And it’s frustrating. And if one more person catches you crying out of sheer rage, you’re going to start throwing things. But like Ted said, you don’t really have a choice. 

Your mom said, “The only way out is through,” then grinned at the murderous glare you shot her way. She opened her phone and pulled up a picture of you, age three. “Same lovely expression as always,” she remarks cheerfully. That cracks your frown. You always were a funny kid. 

It takes a while to figure out how to get places. Keeley (the absolute angel) volunteered, but she’s busy with the PR firm and quite frankly, a little too delicate to help you into a car. You made the mistake of saying this exactly one time and because subject to a rant about how she���s “not weak, just PETITE FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!”

Roy had punctuated her argument with a couple “That’s fucking right, babe"s all while rolling his eyes behind her back. It made you giggle. 

The general consensus was that at any given reasonable hour (or unreasonable if you’re Richard or Bumbercatch) a Greyhound or coach would be able to get you where you’re needed. And today, that place is Nelson Road. 

“How often does Jamie come visit?” Jan Maas asks, straightforward as ever. 

“Um, never,” you reply. “We broke up, remember?”

“Right,” agrees Jan Maas. “We all know that, I just assumed you had gotten back together.”

You laugh. How absurd. “And why on earth would you assume that?”

“Because he talks about you all the time,” comes his prompt reply. 

Huh. That’s interesting. You haven’t received so much as a single emoji from Jamie, but hadn’t thought a thing of it. But this, this is strange. This does not fit into your idea of how broken up people act. 

“Weird,” you say. “Wonder what the fuck that’s about.”

Jan Maas shrugs and moves to lift you from the car. 

—

It’s weird to be at Nelson Road, number one because it’s been FOREVER, number two because you’re eye-level with all sorts of things you’d never noticed before (ahem, part of the wall Roy kicked that no one cared to patch up), and number three because the last time you were here, it was as Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend. 

Jan holds open the door as you roll in, ready to face whatever lies in wait. 

It turns out whatever is a very excited Ted and Beard as well as a neutral Roy who present you a coaching jacket and a whistle. 

“You’re coaching with us today because that little rat bastard Nate went to the dark side,” Beard says. 

You remark, “Tell us how you really feel,” earning a snort from Roy and a chuckle from Trent Crimm. 

“Oh yeah,” Ted says, “this is Trent. He’s writing a book.”

“Cool,” you say, “but you do know I know jack shit about coaching?”

Beard shrugs. “Neither do we. Worked out pretty well so far.” That earns another snort from Roy. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I guess I’m up for anything.”

“You mean ‘down,’” says Ted. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too soon?”

“Never,” you reply. “It’s never too soon to make trauma-related puns and this world, it’s either laugh or cry. So fuck it, I’m going to laugh.”

“Fuck yes,” grunts Roy before turning on his heel to yell at the team to GET THE FUCK ON THE PITCH YOU LITTLE PRICKS!

—

You don’t do much except sit there and watch as the coaches yell and point and run drills. It’s a chore to remind yourself not to check out Jamie’s butt as he runs by so you start thinking not yours, not yours, like a mental mantra. 

He’s not looking at you so you won’t look at him and you’re sure it won’t be a problem because there are so many people to look at and talk to, except lunch rolls around (haha) and you sit at the head of a table and Jamie’s on the bench right next to you. So. There goes the no eye-contact plan. 

You take exactly two bites of your sandwich before thinking fuck this and pushing yourself back so you can roll away. You can just take the elevator to see Becca. 

You’ve made it a good way down the hall when you hear Jamie calling your name while saying, “Wait,” so you move a little faster. 

But it’s still new and you’re painfully reminded that arms are not legs so he catches you with ease. 

 “The fuck are you running away for?” he asks, and you want to point out that technically, you weren’t running. Metaphorically though, he’d be right. 

“I’m not running,” you reply. “I was just going to see Rebecca.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “I know you, and that was running. Is it because of me?”

“No,” you say, and you realize how much you’ve been looking up today. Your fucking neck needs a break so you rub it and look straight ahead, past Jamie at a life-size decal of O’Brien on the opposite wall. 

“Why would I be running away from you? You’re not- I’m the shitty ex in this situation. I’m the one who fucked things up, Jamie, so… you don’t have to like, pretend that it’s your problem. I actually think it would be better if you were just mad and avoided me instead of whatever the hell is currently happening.”

Jamie rubs his jaw. He should be exasperated, he should, but instead the gears in his mind are turning. A few words stick out to him and then it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. 

“Hang on,” he says slowly. “Hold the fuck up. Did you mess things up on purpose?”

The moment the words are out of his mouth he wants to take them back and apologize, because there’s no way they’re actually true, except you have a look on your face that can only be described as guilty. 

“Fuuckkk,” Jamie breathes out and you hurriedly interject, “It wasn’t intentional! At least, not at first. It started because I was irritable because I hurt a lot, and then I convinced myself that I was faking it so I got mad at myself for being a little liar. And then I couldn’t sleep because I hurt so bad and everything was making me uncomfortable so I started snapping at you. I noticed it pretty quick so I figured I’d get the pain checked out and sorted because I didn’t think pulled muscles were supposed to last this long. And it turned out that it wasn’t a pulled muscle but some of my disks were all weird, and then one day in between physical therapy and the chiropractor, I fell on my back and jostled everything wrong and it fucking popped.”

Jamie thinks he knows exactly when that was. He remembers you saying something about falling while walking to your car after work and him asking if you needed ice. It was at the tail end of things, and he’d taken your stiffness figuratively as opposed to literally. Like, you were acting all cold because you hated him, not because you couldn’t move. 

“So,” you continue, “I just leaned into it. I mean, Dr. Hadley was only one of my doctors, but she’s the one who told me I- you know, could end up like this. She said if things popped and it got into my spinal cord or fluid or whatever and they couldn’t get it out, it was only a matter of time before it messed everything up. They only way to stop it at that point would be to not move so either way, I end up stuck.” 

You half-sob, half-laugh. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I could tell you were already annoyed with me so I just decided to let it happen. You’re better off without me, anyway. I hate asking for help and I hate when people give me empathetic looks or what-fucking-ever, and I was going to have to ask you for a lot of help. You don’t even fucking have time for that, Jamie.”

Jamie is at a loss for words, and you’ve run out of things to say. 

You stare at each other in the hallway by the elevator, breathing heavily. You’ve both triggered each other’s fight-or-flight response, and it seems you’re both down for a fight.

“Right,” Jamie says finally, “ok, yeah, ok. You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to have to deal with this?”

You nod. 

“Right,” he says again. “That’s fucked up.”

You don’t respond and he looks at you closely. “You know that’s fucked up, yeah?”

You shrug. 

“Jesus, babe.” Jamie runs his hands through his hair. He’s going to have to fix his headbands. “Alright,” he says yet again, “look. Dr. Sharon and me- we talk. And, you’re supposed to be able to talk to people about shit like this. Like, me playing football isn’t supposed to mean I don’t have time for the people I love. And if you’re feeling that way or if you’re hurting, you have to tell me so I don’t think you’re being all pissed off because you hate me. That’s the whole point of love, babe. You take care of each other’s shit.”

“Jamie, I can’t get places easily anymore. I can’t drive and I can’t go up steps. I will never be able to storm the pitch to kiss you or walk with you in Brazil. I get mad really easily because everything’s so fucking frustrating and I just want to punch something.” You shake your head. “You don’t deserve any of that. You need someone who can be there for you and isn’t a total pill to be around.”

“Are you fucking trying to push me away?” he asks.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Obviously!”

“Well fucking don’t. You almost had me the first time, but good luck getting rid of me now.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“For fuck’s sake, just kiss,” groans Will, walking by with an armful of laundry. 

“Fuck off, William!” you both say in unison and then Jamie’s on one knee, eye-level with you and brushing a thumb across your chin. 

“Fucking hell, love,” he breathes. “You have to remember that you can talk to me, yeah? Just promise you’ll remember.”

You nod, unable to speak. 

“Good,” he says. “We’re giving this another go. And if you can’t kiss me on the pitch, might as well do it here, yeah?”

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

[jamietwat]

Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too

#I’ve been debating putting this in one of my fics for months and still may #Meanwhile if Keeley saw Jamie cartwheel for attention and praise she’d be like I never know what to do when a grown man does a cartwheel in #front of me… #Keeley would be underwhelmed watching Jamie do a cartwheel but also 100% would attempt one and join in if Phoebe asked her to #Phoebe definitely got into football because of Roy #But I could also see her getting into gymnastics too because of Jamie indulging her and being just as eager to do the same little kid tricks #And then she sees someone else on the team do a flip showing off and them all arguing over whether they could do a flip too if they tried #And attempting with various results and she’s like well I want to be able to do a flip too and talks her mom #into signing her up for gymnastics and then talks Jamie’s ear off about her gymnastics class and the little kid tea from it because he’s #sure to match her energy and buy into it like he always does #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Phoebe O’Sullivan #Ted Lasso #RoyJamie #Mine #I don’t have the energy or brainpower to reread this as usual so enjoy the typos and whatever autocorrect changes things too 😂

[agaypanic]

The Fella Part 9 (James Maguire X Quinn!Reader)

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Summary: The girls have been waiting for months to see Take That in Belfast. When a polar bear is on the loose and Mary forbids them from going, they have to take matters into their own hands.

A/N: only took a million years but i finally wrote a new part lol BIG thanks to @crumpets-are-better-with-jam for writing out the episode’s script for me, without them I probably would’ve never found the time to be able to write this. Also the word g*psy is censored and used as little as possible because it’s considered a slur but some say that if you say it with the right context it’s ok, but i don’t wanna take any chances, you know?

***

The weekends were always the best part of the week for Y/n. No school or work, no obligations except for church on Sunday, and being able to sleep in late. Y/n wished to be an adult, so her life could be like this every day.

But this was going to be the weekend of all weekends. Months ago, the girls and James scrimped and saved every coin and bill and were able to buy concert tickets to see Take That in Belfast. And today was the day of the concert. The girls sat all squished together on the couch, watching said band on the TV, with James perched on the arm of the sofa, subtly clinging to Y/n. Their relationship was still a secret somehow, today marking their third month together. They were honestly surprised nobody noticed how their affection was more than friendly.

“God Almighty.” Grandpa Joe spoke in horror, glaring at the screen. “I don’t know what the world is coming to. Bloody perverts.”

“You’re overreacting, Da,” Mary said from the kitchen. Joe scoffed in disbelief.

“Overreacting? That lad’s got no trousers on, for Christ’s sake.” Michelle grinned at the detail that had been pointed out.

“He’s wearing too much still, if I’ve anything to say about it.” She muttered to the girls, who giggled apart from James and Clare.

“Why do they keep touching themselves?” Grandpa Joe asked the telly, as if it would provide any answers.

“‘Cause they’re artists, Granda,” Erin said, but he just grumbled.

“Dirty English bastards is what they are.” He turned to look at James. “No offense, son.” Although he didn’t really sound like he cared whether or not he had offended the boy. Y/n patted James’ thigh in comfort as the scene on the TV changed from the girls’ beloved boy band to a news anchor. 

“Come on, girls. Time to hit the road here.” Gerry announced as he came in. He gestured at James. “Have they roped you into going as well, son?” Y/n laughed, leaning against James to look at her father.

“Hardly. He’s practically riding Gary Barlow. Aren’t ya, Jamie?” He rolled his eyes at the statement, as if they had had this kind of conversation a hundred times.

“I’m not! I just respect him as a songwriter, that’s all.” Michelle rolled her eyes at him, as if she had also had this kind of conversation a hundred times.

“Aye, dead on, James, so you do.”

“Will we need our passports, Gerry?” Orla asked, giving her lungs a break from blowing on her mother’s spray tan.

“For Belfast? I don’t think so, Love.”

“Belfast?” Joe asked, but was ignored.

“Are we not a bit early, Daddy?” Erin asked, checking the time on the wall.

“It’s a two-hour drive with traffic, love.”

“This thing’s in Belfast?” Sick of not being acknowledged, Grandpa Joe stood from his favorite chair to stand with the girls and Gerry.

“Da, it’s eight hours till the doors open,” Y/n said, almost laughing at her father’s sense of urgency.

“I know. We’re cutting it fine.” He seemed completely serious about the matter, which just made Y/n want to laugh more.

“Belfast?” Joe said again, now effectively catching the room’s attention. “Sure, why didn’t you just sell the wains into white slavery and be done with it?”

“Gerry will be with them, Da.” Mary tried to reason, but that just seemed to set him off even more.

“Well, that’s worse. Sure, they hate his kind there.”

“My kind?” Gerry asked, not knowing what Joe could possibly be talking about.

“Pricks.” Y/n laughed, shrinking in her seat when Gerry whipped around to look at his daughter in offense. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“That is enough!” Mary finalized, still working in the kitchen. “They’re going to the concert, Da, and that’s the end of the matter.”

The news switched to another topic again. Something about how a polar bear escaped from Belfast Zoo. Hearing the name, Y/n started to worry.

“Now, will you see sense?” Grandpa Joe asked his daughter, pointing at the TV. Erin snorted.

“Aye, Granda, ‘cause an escaped polar bear’s gonna track us down and kill us. As if Mammy’s bothered by that.” There was a beat of silence, and suddenly, all the girls were panicked.

“Wise up, Mammy!” Y/n squealed frantically, shooting up from her seat on the couch to get a good look at her mother. “As if a polar bear’s gonna rock up a Take That concert!”

“He wouldn’t get a ticket for a start,” Orla added. “They sold out months ago.”

“You’d be surprised, girls,” Mary said.

“The concert’s nowhere near the zoo.” Gerry tried to reason. As usual, Joe countered him.

“But he’s not in the zoo anymore, is he, Simple Simon? He’s sauntering about Belfast without a care in the world!”

“Aye, keep up, Gerry,” Sarah said, blowing on the wet tan that coated her fingers. 

“What I’m saying is that it would be quite a lot of ground for him to cover.”

“They’re quick on their feet when they wanna be, love,” Mary said. Y/n sped to her father, grabbing him by the shoulders to make him face her.

“Daddy, please, don’t listen to her.” She pleaded. “We should go now so we’re not late. Please, Da!” Gerry put his hands on his daughter’s wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the joints while giving her a sympathetic look.

“Oh, love, I’m sorry, but I’d rather keep my head.”

“Come on, Mary.” Michelle pleaded with the girl’s mother. “If you don’t let Y/n and Erin go, then our ma’s won’t let us go.”

“Well, neither they should, and I’ll be ringing them to say as much.” The teens looked at Mary in despair as she went to the phone, likely to ring everyone’s mothers. While dialing, Mary looked back to the living room. “Look, girls, I know how much you were looking forward to seeing This and That.”

“Take That.” Erin corrected.

“But there’ll be other concerts.” Y/n laughed humorlessly, resting her head on her father’s shoulder momentarily before letting go of him completely. 

“No, there won’t.” She felt hysterical. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. Months of looking forward to this concert just to be banned by her mother because of a polar bear. Only something like this would happen to her. “The fact that this one’s happening is a miracle ‘cause no one good comes here ‘cause we all keep killing each other!” James shifted on the arm of the couch to make room for Y/n to sit next to him. He rubbed her back as she leaned against him for support, devastated.

“And now we’re overrun with polar bears.” Sarah sighed, pulling out a cig.

Frustrated, Y/n stormed up to her room, the girls and James close behind. They had found her face down on her bed, screaming into a pillow. James sat beside her, pulling the pillow out of her grasp before she could suffocate herself. While everyone settled in Y/n’s room, she rested her head on James’ thigh. Her anger and sadness were slowly washing away from James rubbing her back.

“This is so fucking unfair.” She muttered.

“I know,” James responded, brushing hair out of her face.

“Well, I dunno about you lot, but I’m not letting that fat furry fuck ruin the biggest day of my life,” Michelle announced harshly, pacing the floor.

“What can we do?” Erin asked, lying across her sister’s legs.

“Right, listen, girls.” Michelle drew their attention. They hoped that she had come up with a plan to save the day, but were quickly let down. “I’ve never told anyone this before, but… sometimes, when Robbie’s being interviewed, it’s like he’s sending me messages through the TV. You know, like telepathically or whatever, It’s like he’s saying…” She sighed, clearly in a dreamy daze. “We’re meant to be together.”

Everyone stared at her.

“Aye, maybe don’t tell that to anyone again, Michelle,” Erin said. “Ever.”

“I think she might be more cracked than Orla,” Y/n muttered to James, who snorted.

“What?” Orla looked at Y/n after hearing her name.

“Nothing, love.”

“Look, this is too important,” Michelle said. “I’m going to that concert. I’m not afraid of a fucking polar bear!” Everyone enthusiastically agreed. They shouldn’t pay mind to a random bear or what their parents have to say about anything. Nothing would stop the girls and James from seeing Take That.

“I’ll kill it with me own two hands, if I have to.” Orla declared. 

“Bring it on!” Erin egged on.

“Okay. We seem to have gone down a weird road here, people. I think we just got a bit confused.” Ever the realist and anxiety-riddled girl, Clare tried stopping her friends from the odd discussion. “We don’t actually have to fight a polar bear, and if we did, I wouldn’t fancy our chances because, well, they’re massive.” Orla looked around, confused.

“But there’s six of us.”

“Aye, I think we’d have a real chance,” Y/n said, albeit slightly sarcastically.

“The point is, the polar bear’s not the one stopping us from going to the concert. It’s our mothers, and we’ll never get them to change their minds.” Y/n gasped, sitting up suddenly, seeming to have an idea.

“So we fight Mammy.”

“No, definitely not.” James shot down the idea immediately and welcomed his once again pouty girlfriend to rest in his lap. Michelle leaned toward the group like she was gonna tell them a secret.

“We’re not gonna try and change their minds.” She smirked, and everyone became slightly fearful because Michelle always had less than bright ideas that she’d have them execute. “We’re gonna do something else.” 

“What?” James asked.

***

“I’m still trying to figure out whether or not this is a good idea,” Y/n muttered to James, who she clung to while sitting on his lap. Michelle had somehow convinced everyone to sneak away and get on a bus to Belfast. The group sat in the back of the bus to avoid anyone who may be suspicious of six teenagers traveling by themselves. There wasn’t enough seating for all six of them to sit together, so everyone squished together, and Y/n sat on James’ lap. No one said anything about it besides the comment from Michelle about how James must be giddy to be so close to a girl. He told her to fuck off.

“Same here.” He sighed, hands gripping her closer as the bus crossed a few bumps on the road.

“We’re gonna get caught; I just know it,” Clare said anxiously to the group.

“We’re not gonna get caught, Clare, because as far as our ma’s are concerned, me, you, and James are ’round Erin’s, and Erin, Y/n, and Orla are ’round mine,” Michelle explained, trying to calm Clare down.

“But we’re not ’round yours, Michelle,” Orla responded, confused. “We’re on the bus to Belfast.” 

“Christ.” Y/n rolled her eyes, having heard her cousin say this multiple times since they left the house.

“I cannot explain it to her again. I’m gonna scream.” Michelle looked away from Orla, probably because she would strangle her if she had to deal with the confusion for another second.

“What’s in the suitcase, Michelle?” James asked, staring at the case his cousin had set on the remaining seat near the group. Y/n could’ve sat there, but Michelle wanted a close eye on whatever was in the suitcase without holding it in case they got caught. Everyone stared, curiously waiting for an answer. There was a beat of silence.

“Vodka.” You brought an entire suitcase full of vodka?” Erin asked incredulously.

“Jesus, Michelle, you’ve got a problem,” Y/n added.

“No. There’s mixers as well. I’m not a savage.” Michelle took a second to think, looking down at the case. “You can mix vodka with cider, right?”

“God, I am boiling.” Clare sighed, fanning her face.

“Gee, I wonder why, Clare.” Y/n laughed, looking at her friend who was completely bundled in jackets and scarves.

“What are you wearing?” Erin asked.

“Yeah, you look like a fucking Provo.”

“I don’t want anyone recognizing me, okay?” The bus paused its venture, opening the doors for people to come in and out.

“No one’s gonna recognize you, Clare.” Michelle chastised.

“Clare Devlin, is that you?” Panic ran through everyone. The voice sounded very familiar and fear-inducing. The girls looked towards the front. Sister Michael was moving past the seats and right for them.

“Jesus Christ.” Clare squeaked, trying to hide in her mountain of clothes. Erin leaned into her.

“Relax, Clare.” She said. “She has no authority over us at the weekend. She has no right to question us, and if she tries to, I’ll tell her as much.”

“Aye, I’d like to see you try, Erin.” Y/n hissed to her sister before Sister Michael reached the group.

“Morning, girls.” She said.

“Morning, Sister Michael.” Everyone said in unison.

“What takes you to Belfast?” There was a heavy pause. The girls were silently trying to decide who would speak and what they would say. Erin volunteered herself, speaking quietly from nervousness.

“I’m not really sure that’s-”

“Speak up.” Sister Michael interrupted her. Erin gulped.

“I’m not really sure that that’s any of your business…” Sister Michael stared blankly at her. Everyone waited for her to jump and murder Erin for saying such a thing. Soon, she found words.

“I’m going to assume that was an ill-judged attempt at humor, Miss Quinn.”

“Yes,” Erin whispered, sinking into her seat. Y/n silently prayed that the bus would start moving so Sister Michael would be forced to leave and find a seat somewhere. But God never seemed too kind to the girls.

“Now, answer the question.”

“... We’re going to the museum.” Erin devised a good lie; the girls just hoped they could keep up with the inevitable follow-up questions.

“Which museum?”

“Ulster Museum,” Clare answered.

“What for?”

“A project,” James responded.

“A history project.” Y/n amended. Sister Michael looked at the two. It seemed like she was about to ask why Y/n was in James’ lap, but she decided against it, not wanting to go through the trouble.

“What about?”

“Ulster,” Erin answered once again. Sister Michael gave an unconvinced hum and turned around to find a place to sit. Everyone sighed in relief as the bus started to move again.

“A history project,” Clare said in disbelief. “This web of lies we’re spinning is getting out of control now, girls.” Y/n put a hand on her friend’s shoulder to take her attention.

“If it makes you feel any better, Clare, I actually have a history project due soon.”

“I thought we finished that,” James said quietly to her. She turned to him.

“Yeah, but now I’ve gotta put it all together.”

“It’s grand, Clare,” Michelle said, rolling her eyes at Clare’s constant anxiousness. “I think she bought it.”

“Of course, she didn’t buy it. She’s onto us, I’m telling you. Oh God, I’m sweltering here.”

“Then take it off,” Erin said.

“I can’t take it off; I’ve nothing underneath it.” Everyone paused, looking at her confused.

“What, not even a bra?” Erin asked.

“Jesus, Clare, you’ve no bra on?” Michelle asked incredulously.

“I haven’t got a bra on,” Orla commented.

“Aye, me neither,” Y/n said.

“What?” James practically choked. Suddenly aware of his girlfriend’s body and this new information, he moved his hands down to sit at her hips. Y/n shrugged.

“They dig.”

“What’s she doing now?” Clare asked, and everyone looked at Sister Michael, who sat a few rows ahead of them. She was reading a book, laughing every now and then.

“Reading her book,” James answered, as if they all couldn’t see it. She suddenly turned to the woman in the seat next to her. She had a look of disgust while the woman ate a sandwich. “Now she’s looking at the woman beside her.” Sister Michael stood from her seat. “Now she’s getting up.” She moved towards the back of the bus, closing in on the girls. “Now she’s coming this way.” Soon enough, Sister Michael stood before the group, staring at them. “Now she’s standing right in front of us.”

“What’s he doing?” Sister Michael asked, looking weirdly at James.

“Now she’s-” James’ words were halted by Y/n putting a finger to his lips.

“Stop narrating, Jamie.”

“I want to sit here.” Sister Michael said with finality, pointing to where Michelle’s suitcase sat. Michelle started to panic.

“What? Why?”

“Well, you’re just such wonderful company, girls, what with your stimulating conversation and razor-sharp wit.” Everyone knew she was being sarcastic. Except for Erin.

“Really?” She asked, seemingly flattered. Sister Michael rolled her eyes.

“No, not really. The woman next to me is eating an egg and onion sandwich, and the smell is enough to turn an Orange March.” The girls cringed at the description. Sister Michael grabbed the suitcase, trying to move it. But she was evidently struggling. “Christ, but this is heavy.”

“Sister, no, let me,” Michelle said, leaning over to grab the case.

“What do you have in here, girls?”

“It’s not ours!” Clare quickly responded with a shriek. Everyone glared at her lie.

“Not yours?”

“We have never seen it before in our lives, have we, girls?” It was better to just agree, so that’s what the girls did. They nodded, giving different mutters of confirmation. 

Sister Michael turned to look at everyone else on the bus.

“Excuse me, everyone. Can I have your attention, please?” She raised her voice to get everyone to listen. Confused, the passengers looked at her while she pointed to Michelle’s suitcase. “Does anyone own this red suitcase?” No one claimed it. “Now, let me be clear. No one can claim this bag, is that correct?” Everyone confirmed her question. She looked down at the suitcase. “I think we have a Code Red on our hands. Driver, pull over!”

***

The girls were definitely fucked. Everyone had to evacuate the bus while they waited for the military to come and extract the suitcase. Now, a crowd watched as a military robot examined the case.

“Jesus Christ!” Clare squeaked in a panic.

“Aye, this isn’t great,” Erin said, watching the commotion. Michelle shrugged.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“They’re about to blow up an entire suitcase of vodka, Michelle.” 

As Michelle and Erin quietly argued, Y/n leaned into James’ ear.

“And here I thought Clare’s paranoia would be our biggest problem.” James rested his head on Y/n’s, eyeing the situation in front of him in disbelief.

“Why is this place so mental?” He asked. Michelle scoffed.

“That’s enough, James. You have serious fucking anger management issues. Do you know that?” Before anyone could give a rebuttal, there was an explosion. The robot had successfully eliminated the threat in the red suitcase, which was the girls’ ticket to a good time.

There were lots of talks among the soldiers over the radio. The girls silently celebrated when one said they could pack everything up. Soon enough, they’d be back on the way to Belfast.

“Powerful smell of vodka down here, over.” The girls froze in their places as they heard the soldier over the radio. God really did seem to have it out for the teens.

“Vodka, did he say?” Sister Michael asked, slowly turning to her students. “Interesting.” The girls gave her nervous smiles. Suddenly, Y/n pointed over Sister Michael’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, Sister! What’s over there?!” Sister Michael whipped around, and Y/n made a break for it. All of her friends followed after her. 

They ran like hell, not knowing where they were going. After a while of wandering around, they slowed to a walk down a dirt road, all trying to catch their breath. The girls debated whether or not they could reach Belfast on foot, especially with that polar bear on the loose. But the conversation dwindled as some men came into view on the side of the road.

“Is it just me, or is that g*psy an absolute ride?”

“As usual, I think it’s just you, Michelle,” Y/n said, groaning at her sore legs.

“Michelle, you cannot say that.” Erin scolded.

“What?”

“They’re called ‘travelers now. Y’can’t say ‘g*psy’ anymore. It’s insulting.”

“Okay, but you just said it, Erin.” Y/n pointed out. Michelle and Erin continued arguing over the correct word to use for the men. It continued for a while, and only stopped when they had gotten closer to the men.

“Howya, girls.” One of them said, with a bit of a slurred speech. The girls politely greeted him and continued walking. They got a few feet past them when the one who greeted them started calling after them. “Hey, hold on.”

“What does he want?” Clare asked in a panic.

“I don’t know,” Erin replied, just as nervous.

“I’m talking to you!” The man shouted. The girls ignored him, but he kept walking after them. “Hey, are you deaf or what?”

“Just keep going.” Y/n urged her friends, grabbing James’ hand to yank him along while she pushed her tired body to go faster. The teens started walking more quickly, and soon enough, the shouting man and his friends were all tailing after them. 

“Get back here!”

“Faster. Walk faster.”

“Am I gonna have to come after you, am I?”

“Jesus Christ, he’s following us,” James muttered, now being the one to pull Y/n further.

“Run!” Y/n yelped, breaking into a sprint and out of James’ grip because the sudden change in pace had caught him off guard. Everyone ran after her, the teens to catch up with Y/n and the travelers to catch up with the teens. The girls were terrified, except for Orla, of course, who could always find the fun in a fucked up situation.

“Piss off!” Erin went to the edge of the dirt road and came back to the strange men waving a giant stick around. They backed up in alarm, and the girls stopped to stand behind Erin.

Except for Y/n, who was still running like hell. James yelled for her, but she couldn’t hear him over the thumping of her feet and heart. She didn’t even notice that her friends had all been left in the dust behind her.

“Jesus fuck!” Y/n screeched when she was grabbed suddenly by the shoulders and yanked back into someone’s chest. The person who caught her breathed heavily, slightly using her as a crutch. Y/n immediately recognized the whines and groans of exhaustion and smacked the man in the arm. “Scared the fuck out of me, James.”

“I know, ‘m sorry.” James brought her closer to him, back pressed against his chest as he rubbed her arms up and down to comfort her. “Can’t run off like that, love. Could’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.” She apologized sheepishly, and James kissed her head to show she shouldn’t be. When the couple regained strength, they turned around and started walking back to the group that was currently arguing with the strange couple of men when they abruptly ran to the side of the dirt road. A van sped past them as if they weren’t even there, honking the horn and stopping in front of the stand-off of travelers and teenage girls. Y/n and James hesitantly watched, not knowing what was happening.

Soon, Erin stuck her head out from behind the van so her sister was in her view. She waved her over frantically.

“Y/n, come on!” Erin then disappeared, likely into the strange van. Knowing everyone else was probably in there, and not wanting to be left stranded, Y/n broke out into another sprint, leaving James in the dust once again.

“Not again.” He mumbled.

***

When Y/n had snuck away from her family and hopped on a bus to Belfast with her friends, she obviously didn’t expect the bus plan to go to shit, and she and her buddies would be riding around in someone’s van. Yet here she was, jostling around in the back, surrounded by half-assed Take That shirts. Erin was trying to converse with the driver; Rita was apparently her name. Meanwhile, Michelle hogged a cardboard cut-out of Robbie Williams, and Clare and Orla were sifting through all the different merchandise.

“Robie?” Clare said to herself as she held up one of the shirts to look at before frantically digging through the rest of the boxes. In the driver’s seat, Rita seemed to have some type of drunken meltdown. Clare turned to Y/n, panicked like always. “Y/n, what are we gonna do?”

“Pray.”

“She’s spelt ‘Robbie’ wrong on every single t-shirt.”

“Huh?” 

“How are we gonna break it to her?” Y/n snorted. That was not what she expected her dear friend to be worried about.

“Clare, we’re being driven around by some crazy tipsy woman, and I bet she doesn’t even know which direction Belfast is in. And yet you’re worried about a spelling mistake?”

“I find it disturbing.”

“I find your priorities disturbing.” Rita continued talking in her drunken, weepy state, leading to another discussion between Erin and Michelle about the correct label to use for the intimidating men they had run into.

But everything was cut short by the van ramming into something, causing everyone to jerk forward. There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to figure out what had just happened.

“Jesus Christ.” Michelle groaned, rubbing her head as she sat up.

“What was that?” Erin asked no one in particular.

“Did we hit something?” 

Orla opened the sliding door of the van and stuck her head out. Everyone heard a gasp of both surprise and delight.

“Oh my God, it’s the polar bear!” The sentence made everyone, excluding Rita, who smoked her cigarette in the driver’s seat, jump out of the van and surround the body. 

“Orla, this is not a bloody polar bear.” Y/n sneered, looking down at the dead sheep that lay before her feet. Everyone slowly looked over at her.

“You’re soundin’ like James,” Michelle said in slight disgust.

“Shut up.”

“Get it shifted, girls!” Rita commanded from the van, taking another drag. Reluctantly, the girls grabbed the sheep carcass and tried carrying it to the side of the road to clear their path. There was a lot more struggling than they intended.

“Why’s it so heavy?” Erin said with a strained voice. “Aren’t they meant to be ninety percent wool?”

“Just put your back into it. The sooner this is done, the sooner we’re back in the van and on our way to see Robbie.”

“Shut it about Robbie, Michelle!” Y/n groaned, trying to pull the sheep. There was much more arguing, and after a very short while, the girls decided they were officially over this task.

“Fuck this!” Michelle shouted. “Let’s just make James do it, the lazy bastard!” Everyone dropped the sheep on the ground and waited for James to do all the work.

But he never did. It was just the girls on an empty road with a dead sheep and a crazy woman. 

“Wh… Where is James?” Clare asked, looking around, hoping he’d suddenly pop out of a bush or something. 

Y/n thought long and hard. She might have been the last one to be with James. Backtracking to her last known moments with James, Y/n gasped and raised a hand to her mouth. The girls looked at her expectantly, waiting to find out where he was. Her response was an embarrassed and horrified whisper.

“I left him with the travelers.”

***

It took much persuasion, mainly for Michelle, but the girls had gotten Rita to go back for James. It was primarily the revelation that James was the one who had the concert tickets. After a long drive, the van skidded to a stop in front of the traveler’s stands of vegetables and fruits. James was among the men, helping them. Y/n yanked the van door open, relieved that her boyfriend hadn’t been mugged or stranded or something else of the sort.

“James!” She yelled in delight, immediately catching his attention. He grinned but stayed stuck in his place.

“What are you playing at? Get in the van, fucko.” Michelle commanded, less thrilled to see James than Y/n was. The man who first chased the girls put a hand on James’ shoulder.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, James.”

“With all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah!” Y/n added, desperately waiting for her boyfriend to get into the van.

“The way you treat this fella, it’s disgraceful.” The traveler reprimanded.

“Fucking excuse me?” Y/n felt beyond insulted.

“What’s going on, James?” Michelle asked.

“Jonjo and the lads…” James looked at said lads with a smile. “They just get me. And it turns out, I’m a really good salesman.”

“He’s a natural,” Jonjo said.

“So, what, you’re a g*psy now?” Michelle asked, clearly thinking this was an unfunny prank.

“Traveler.” Erin and Y/n corrected in unison, Erin louder than her sister.

“Actually, g*psy’s fine,” Jonjo said. Michelle smirked, finally being able to prove to Erin that she was right. Rita yelled at everyone to hurry up, and Michelle nodded.

“Right, get in the van, come on. And do not test me ’cause we’ve already missed PJ and Duncan.”

“Is that who was supporting them?” Clare asked. When confirmed, she pouted. “Oh, I really like them!”

“I’m not leaving, Michelle,” James said with finality.

Y/n sighed, stepping out of the van. The tense gaze James had for his cousin softened when his girlfriend walked up to him.

“Not even for Gary Barlow, Jamie?” Y/n knew she made the right move because now James looked unsure of himself.

“I don’t really rate him as a, as a songwriter, y’know?” Jonjo said. The horrified look James suddenly had painted on his face made Y/n smile, both because she knew that the girls would now be leaving with him and because he looked so adorable. 

James took off his fanny pack and handed it to Jonjo in disappointment, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, Jonjo, but you’ve just crossed the line there.” 

Y/n wrapped an arm around James’ back and guided his sad self to the van, where the door was just behind them. She brought him to the back of the van so he could mope a bit in peace. The girls all talked excitedly amongst themselves about the concert.

“I’m sorry I stranded you,” Y/n said quietly, moving her hand down James’ back to squeeze his hand. He squeezed it back and smiled softly down at her.

“I’m just glad you came back.”

“Of course, I came back. You have the concert tickets.” James shoved Y/n away and couldn’t hide the growing grin from hearing her laugh. “Kidding, kidding.”

After a long drive, long lines, and a big fight to get to the barricade, the Derry girls were finally able to enjoy Take That in all its glory. They screamed the lyrics, jumped to the beat, and danced all together in excitement. They didn’t care about the consequences when they would get home to their parents, who were probably worried sick. They didn’t worry about how they’d get home that night. All that mattered was that they were currently in the presence of one of their favorite bands of all time.

Somewhere in the middle of the set, the excitement winded down a bit as a piano intro played. Y/n squealed, tugging on James’ sleeve, as she recognized what was dubbed as her and James’ song, A Million Love Songs. James grinned at her excitement.

“Oh my God! I have something for you!” Y/n exclaimed over the music, digging around in her pockets. James looked down curiously as she brought out a folded piece of paper. “If it’s bad, you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“What is it?” James leaned down so he was closer to eye level with Y/n, making her blush. She pinched the edge of the paper, creasing it a bit.

“Do you remember when Erin became magazine editor, and we were going through those essays and… and Michelle found mine?” James nodded, remembering the day clearly because he was devastated when he heard the title of her little essay. “Well, I figured, since it’s our third month together and all… I wanted to give it to you.” He was gentle when taking the paper from her, so incredibly curious about what she had written. “Especially since my fancy isn’t so one-sided as I thought.”

All Y/n could focus on was the beautiful song in the background and the beautiful boy in front of her, reading words that had come straight from her heart when she thought her love for James was just a hopeless crush. She didn’t know if it was a good sign, seeing him become more flustered and blushy as he read on. When he was finished, he slowly and carefully folded the paper back up while Take That started to play a more energetic song.

“Again, you can’t make fun of me if it’s bad!” Y/n shouted over the noise. “I know Erin’s the writer or whatever, but- oof!” She was interrupted by James pulling her to his chest, arms wrapped tight around her and face buried in the crook of her neck. She immediately returned the affections. 

“It’s amazing.” He said in her ear. “Amazing, and lovely, and perfect. Just like the girl who wrote it.” Unable to help herself, Y/n brought James’ face to hers and kissed him with such passion, a passion he reciprocated instantly. It was as if it was only them existing at that moment.

Of course, it wasn’t. Clare would later tease and squeal at the two and interrogate them about when they had finally gotten together and why they didn’t tell her. Too enamored with the men just feet away from them, the rest of the girls didn’t even notice the couple.

And somewhere in Derry, while the rest of her family was fighting, Y/n’s father Gerry smiled fondly at his television where he saw his daughter having the time of her life at a Take That concert with her best friends and boyfriend. A boyfriend he’d absolutely be asking her about in private when he had the chance.

~~~

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[manicpixiefelix]

These specific gifs of Louis Garrel in The Dreamers makes me think of Felix Catton and his oral fixation 🚬

also just makes me think of an OC in the Head Heart Hand 'verse who's a French friend of the L/N Siblings. By which I mean, they're friends with benefits and they still have that chemistry which makes Fi jealous.

Jamie had been working as the assistant to a renowned stylist when he'd first met the siblings, at least that's what you all tell Felix when he shows up at Oxford a week and a half before a gala event you and Oliver had been complaining about for a week already. Now his old boss simply works with your parents, and Jamie works with the two of you. Jamie is beautiful and well dressed and you and Oliver interact with him in a way that makes Felix feel a spike of jealousy whether he sees the casually affectionate way you all touch each other.

He's perfectly polite and incredibly warm to Felix, even affectionate at times - what beauty you've found, my loves, is the first thing he'd ever actually said when you introduced Felix to him - but occasionally his voice drops low and teasing as he says something to either you or Oliver that makes Felix wish he understood less French. Because he really didn't need to know just how unprofessional your relationship really was.

Christ some of the things he'd overheard were absolutely fucking filthy. Its also incredibly hot, yes, but that just makes him more conflicted.

"Is something wrong, lovely Felix?" Jamie's voice is quiet but vaguely distracted as he's taking Felix's measurements. Felix was going to be attending the gala with you and Oliver; it'd be the first of many, and Jamie was more than happy to pull together a look for him too at your request. He's got a cigarette poised between his lips, but Felix is looking at the roof, because if he looks at Jamie he's going to think about all he'd been overhearing in the past few days. You all think he doesn't understand, clearly.

"No problem," Felix lies and hopes it's convincing. Like he's not thinking about how the gentle hands sizing him up have pressed you up against the walls of countless dressing rooms, or been wrapped around Oliver so many times that he'd apparently lost count, "no problem whatsoever." If he bites any harder on the stem of the lollypop in his mouth he's pretty sure it's going to break.

Jamie hums non-committally, but Felix knows he doesn't believe him. Still, the next thing he asks is if Felix had any specific clothing textures that bothered him - like the darling siblings do, he clarified - and Felix thinks for a long moment. He doesn't think so, at least none he's adverse to, but -

"No no," Jamie cuts him off, "you will feel luxurious in my clothes," he assures, leaving no room for argument, like it's an order, "you will trust me. But you're saying there's nothing I could put you in that would make you want to rip it off your skin immediately because it would feel bad?" Felix shakes his head, mouth pressed to a thin line. Jamie fixes him with a coy smile, petting his cheek, "you make me feel lucky, lovely Felix; you make a beautiful muse." The genuine compliments make him feel worse for the blatant jealousy.

So maybe Felix makes a point of sticking close to you and Oliver more than was strictly necessary, at the pubs each night and the club when you all finally head to London on the weekend of the event.

"Jealous boy, look at him," he hears Jamie mumble in French as you've all occupied a roomy bathroom stall to do a few lines of coke. Felix's got you in his lap, lips against your shoulder while Jamie's leaning against the wall with that beautiful fucking smirk. You and Oliver both giggle, and you turn and press a kiss to Felix's temple while your brother takes the mirror and rolled up bill from your hands.

"You're making him jealous on purpose," you respond in kind. Jamie's gaze on you is close enough to leering that Felix can't help but start pressing soft kisses along your shoulder and neck.

"Can either of you blame me?" But Jamie still looks away, grin widening as you turn properly to meet Felix in a messy, passionate kiss, "obsessive little lovers you both are, always have been," he accepts the mirror from a grinning Oliver when it's offered, "maybe I should be jealous of lovely Felix."

"Maybe you should be," Felix breaks the kiss, turning to Jamie with a challenging look in his eyes as you mutter a flustered 'ohmygod' and Oliver gives an embarrassed giggle. All three of you come to realise that Felix has been fully aware of everything you've been saying since Jamie had arrived.

Jamie himself just smiles wider, meeting Felix's challenging gaze almost like he's proud.

(also Jamie falls for Farleigh pretty much the minute he sees him btw. Like Oliver fell for Felix in the film, Jamie sees Farleigh and is immediately enraptured. He asks him if he's done any modelling as the first thing he says after his name (and is delighted when Farleigh admits that he has, back in the states). Farleigh is at first bewildered by the attention - he's pretty and self aware but this is the kind of attention Felix usually got, it feels strange receiving it, rather than observing it - but quickly finds himself enjoying the attention. But also there's something very beautiful about Farleigh and Jamie together, they probably have a little fanclub of their own. They buy each other drinks at the pub like it's a competition half the time, but they end up side by side on the leather booth by the table, definitely too close (in much the same way that you, Felix, and Oliver often were, even surrounded by the rest of your friend group) tipsy and flirting in French while half their friends just kind of admire them.)

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #oliver ln au #it shouts back

[jamiesfootball]

What are your thoughts on Ted? Is it good he went home?

These are two separate answers but I'm gonna try to combine them into one thought bubble (bear with me).

My short answer regarding Ted's ending is that you can't create a fully fleshed out character for 2-3 seasons and then in the final hour decide he was Mary Poppins all along. The Mary Poppins is meant to be strange, not-quite of normal ilk. She's the static character who leads the change in others, the one who inspires. You don't usually see the inner thoughts and workings of a static character.

From the very first time the audience meets Ted, we understand that this is not a static character because he is literally one of our starting POVs. We see his uncertainty about flying across the globe to go teach a sport he doesn't understand. We see him turning to Beard for reassurance. We see him stick his hand out where it isn't wanted while he tries to find common ground with people in a new country. We see the beginnings of a panic attack at the press conference.

That is is episode one. He is not a static character. He is not a strange and unusual person impossible to understand. He is inspiring, yes, but that is because of his humanity- his kindness.

He is not a Mary Poppins.

Ted is at his most interesting when he is a complicated, struggling, but ultimately kind man who tries his best to show genuine empathy and compassion towards others. The fact that this same trait doubles as a flaw is equally intriguing.

Ted can reassure Sam that Jamie won't be coming back, or Ted can reach out to Jamie when he's struggling and ask him to come back. Both are acts of kindness. He can not do both.

Ted can show Rebecca empathy and understanding for her trying to sabotage Richmond, but it ties his hands on being honest to Jamie about why he was sent away in the first place.

In trying to balance kindness, Ted struggles to be direct. He struggles to come right out and tell people how he's feeling about situations. Despite encouraging other people to talk about their feelings, he dances around his own and avoids awkward confrontations. I think that is the flaw that Ted most needed to explore. At the same time, I hesitate to say he could have learned too much given how he was struggling to process his own trauma with his dad and how it effected his relationships with those around him. (Put a pin here, I'll be back for it in a later.)

Pivoting back to Ted's purpose in the narrative, unfortunately as the show ran through season three, it became too near-sighted on The Message and in turn lost sight of making sure the characters had fulfilling interactions with each other. This especially becomes apparent when it comes to Ted, whose motto in season one is 'be curious not judgemental.' I maintain that season three was a low point for Ted emotionally, and if I were to assign a reason in-universe as to why Ted seemed so off from his usual self, it would be that in his depression, he no longer had the energy to realize he wasn't being curious. One indication of this would be how many times Ted casts assumptions on people in season three, compared to his hey-do-you-think conversational openers from earlier seasons. Some examples would include:

-never trying to figure out what makes Zava tick (this is a big one to me. I think season one Ted would have been all over trying to crack Zava like a nut)

-assuming he already knows why Jamie is upset about Zava joining the team and brushing it off

-assuming that Dr Jacob would propose + assuming that Michelle would say yes instead of trying to ferret out whether

-his assumptions about Henry being bullied (the knee-jerk reaction as a parent to protect your kid is understandable, the lack of delving into the situation and why it happened are more what I mean here)

-his whole conversation with Jamie about his dad. Other people in more succinct words have pointed out how it feels like he fully projected what he needed to hear onto Jamie's situation, and I think that's fairly accurate. This was not a 'talk to me and tell me what's going on so I can better understand how i need to help you' conversation. This was a 'oh that's whats going on? how about you do this? that work? alright then' talk.

So the finale struts back around and Ted has made a decision. He's going home. And it's meant to feel like closure. They play the Cat Stevens song and it's supposed to feel like Ted has finally made a step in the right direction (which is certainly one take on those lyrics but I digress). He's going back home. He's going to be with his son. He's letting go of the damage his father leaving did to him. He's giving up on something and he's finally okay with that. He left Richmond better than he found it and that's what matters.

Everyone else can cry but he's not crying. He's finally with Henry again.

So here's my two cents. And this is definitely just my opinion but-

THAT'S FUCKING STUPID.

Because the only way that Henry OR Richmond exists is in a false dichotomy wherein the two cannot possibly coincide, despite the fact that there are MANY KIDS' SHOWS ABOUT CHILDREN MOVING TO NEW LOCATIONS EVEN NEW COUNTRIES because that is a NORMAL THING THAT HAPPENS IN THE NORMAL WORLD ALL THE TIME.

Like holy shit that is. That is just the plot of a Disney channel show. 'My dad the football coach moved to england to coach the other football.' That is just the plot of a Disney channel original movie with a $300 budget that magically gets a sequel. Is that what I'm supposed to say 'oh no, that could never happen' over? Because I"m already watching a TV show. You can put a show in another show- I'm fine with that.

Remember that pin above? Time to pull it out. Because you know what would have been a more narratively satisfying conclusion?

If Ted had actually asked Henry and Michelle if they'd liked to move to London to be closer to him. If he had actually expressed his fucking need to have both his Kansas family and his Richmond family close to him. Maybe they would have said no, maybe they would have said yes, but you know what? It would have at least opened the door to the discussion about what Ted might need as a person moving forward, whichever way the chips fell. At least he would have done the one thing we didn't see him do all show:

Ask for something for himself. Because he wants it. Not for the good of his family, or the team, or anyone else. Just for Ted.

I am not saying his son isn't the most important thing in his life. I am saying as a goddamn adult person, you can NOT mold your life around your kids. You can't. Full stop. It is not healthy. You put your kid's needs above your own, but as a parent your needs have to come second. You have to take care of your own emotional health so that you have the bandwidth to give them support. You have to set the example of what healthy boundaries and taking care of yourself looks like.

Could Ted make new social connections back in Kansas? Well that's the thing isn't it- season one Ted could have. Easily. Season three Ted? The one who's checked out and looks tired all the time and isn't even following his own motto anymore and didn't even cry like he'd miss his friends when he was leaving? I'm not sure about that Ted. I'm worried about that Ted. I'm worried he's going to put himself in a situation where for the next 9 years of his life his only priority is going to be keeping Henry happy by giving Henry the attention he never got from his own father. And after that? Henry's an adult. Henry has to go live his own life.

And Henry's going to be able to tell, by the way, if his dad is struggling. Whatever Ted's emotional health is like, Henry is going to pick up on it. This isn't a one way road. Kids notice.

Ted untangled himself enough to admit that what he wants is to be close to Henry. I commend that. But then he decided that there was only one way to do that, and he didn't look any further than that. The narrative didn't look any further than that. For a show that itself raises the topic of mental health, it feels tone-deaf to pretend that Ted moving away from his entire support group is a happy ending. He doesn't even have Beard!

So to summarize: what do I think about Ted? I think he's a fascinating character. I think he has a genuine kindness to him that is rare. I think he is flawed, and a little bent up on the inside, and he's got a lot of issues to work through. And I think the show did him a disservice by painting him going back to Kansas as a sign that everything was going to be okay.

#that's my very long take! #sorry! #and yes i am a 'how dare the found family break up at the end' type of person #but I can usually give props to canon if they at least made the reasons satisfying #lotr for example gets a pass on this #here tho? not satisfied #love ted; not satisfied with where we left him #would've preferred to run him through the washer a few times and see what happens #ted lasso #ted lasso meta #complaining about the finale #adding this to my 'i guess i'll fix it myself' pile #i am so sorry anon i just looked back at your ask and it was just two innocuous questions #and i busted out the capslock #mea culpa

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii!!!! So, if you wanna write something, can you do poly marauders find out reader sleeps with like an almost concerning amount of plushies??? I literally sleep on a few plushies so I think it would be cute lol

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You’ve been pouting all evening, ever since the boys had decided to watch a new comedy film over one of your chickflicks. You’re ganging up on me, you’d complained, and James felt a twinge of guilt but Sirius had only laughed. You’re damn right we are, sweetheart, because we watched that one just last week! You’d gone silent after that, but you’ve seemed vaguely sulky ever since, even when James brought you popcorn and tried to snuggle up with you under the blanket. 

“I’m gonna go to bed,” you say abruptly, standing and gathering your blanket about you. 

“Already?” James asks. “The movie’s only got like, twenty more minutes in it.” 

“That’s okay,” you yawn, stooping to give him a hug and kiss. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, dovey,” Remus says as you kiss him too, then Sirius. “Sleep well.” 

James watches you go, unease growing like a fungus in his chest as you go into your room instead of one of theirs, the door shutting definitively behind you. 

“Prongs, hey.” He turns to find Remus looking at him, his brows scrunching just softly upwards. “Don’t worry about it, love, she’s alright.” 

“I know it’s silly,” he says, casting another glance down the hall, “but she just seemed so put out. And then she went to her own room.” 

“She doesn’t always want to sleep in ours.” Sirius shrugs. “Disappointing, but it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.” 

It’s true; you only sleep in one of your boyfriends’ rooms maybe half of the time, but this has always been a point of confusion for James. He and the other boys shuffle between rooms every night, and when you join them you seem to enjoy it as much as the rest of them do. Plus, it’s no secret that you love cuddles above all else, so why deprive yourself of them on such a regular basis?

James stands. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Suit yourself,” Sirius says, and Remus only nods, attention going back to the film. 

James sees blue light coming from underneath your door as he approaches, confirming his suspicion that you weren’t really tired enough to sleep when you’d left. He knocks softly. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?”

You don’t reply, and he hesitates briefly before cracking the door. For a moment, he wonders if you’re in here at all. He certainly can’t find you. The entire room is awash in blue light, your laptop screen on full brightness as the intro to the movie you’d wanted to watch earlier plays silently. Where you should be on your bed is instead half a million stuffed animals. Piles of them, from your headboard to the end of the bed, with little faces lit by the screen like they’re watching the movie, too. 

James draws closer, noticing your headphones plugged into the laptop, and follows the chord until he finds you, nestled so deeply in plushies that only your face is visible. He takes a second to relish the sight before waving a hand in front of the screen to get your attention. You startle, the movement sending a plushie tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. You lunge for it, disrupting even more of the toys, and James has to dam the avalanche with both hands, passing you the fallen stuffed animal—A penguin, he thinks to himself. How cute—while you take off your headphones. 

“Fuck, you scared me,” you say breathlessly, and James guffaws, hysterical laugher bubbling out of his chest. “What?”

“Just,” he marvels, shaking his head, “it’s surprising to hear that kind of language coming from someone absolutely buried in cuteness right now.” 

You sink further into the pile, and if the lighting weren’t so blue at the moment, he suspects your face would appear redder. 

“Jamie,” you say, quietly, hurriedly. “Jamie, don’t tell. Please?”

He’s just starting to wonder whether he’s even capable of keeping a secret as good as this when two pairs of footsteps start down the hallway. 

“What’s going on?” Sirius’ voice calls, a second before Remus flicks on the light and both boys go silent. James giggles, bringing his hand to his mouth in an attempt to smother the sound. Your face is indeed as flushed as he’d imagined, and you burrow further into your squishy fortress as if you could disappear into it entirely. 

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding positively delighted, “where have you been hiding all of this?”

“I haven’t been hiding them.” Your voice is muffled by stuffing. “They just stay in my closet during the day. So my room doesn’t look cluttered.” 

“But why?” Sirius makes his way over to you, picking up a fox by your head. “This little guy is so charming. You’d deprive us of him?”

Despite Sirius’ honey-coated tone, you know what he’s about, and your eyes narrow defensively. 

“Dove,” Remus says slowly, fighting to keep his expression under control as his eyes glitter with amusement. “This is the most adorable thing I think I’ve ever seen.” 

You don’t look inclined to make a response, so James speaks again. 

“Is this why you don’t always want to sleep with us?” he asks, doing his best to gentle the teasing in his voice. “Because these guys are welcome in my room anytime if it means I get to be with you too.” 

You make your eyes big and sad in that way James swears you have to practice in the mirror. “Really? You don’t think it’s embarrassing?” 

James is finally free to unleash the full capacity of his smile. “Of course not, angel.”

“Well, maybe, like, a dozen of them,” Sirius says. “With more than one person, I think they’d all end up falling off the bed.” 

You look horrified. “I feel so guilty when that happens.” 

Remus makes a sound that’s half laugh, half coo. “Darling, you’re going to kill me with all this.” He gives you a look so syrupy sweet James feels his heart go all soft and mushy. “Please come finish the movie with us so I can give you a proper cuddle?”

“And bring some of your friends,” Sirius adds as you start to extricate yourself from the jumble on your bed. “Fuck, I’m never gonna get over this.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders oneshot #poly!marauders imagine #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #the marauders era #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom

[acourtofthought]

I did not say Elain wouldn't be mc next book. Sarah's answer definitely gave the impression that elriel is next

As I'm guessing you can imagine, my answer still stands.

Before she talked of Az's bedroom habits, she told us in book 3 how Elain's mate has fire in his blood and "fucks" like it too.

Do you really think SJM would waste that on someone other than his mate? When the author herself said she shares Elain's energy in her real life? SJM would have the chance to live vicariously through a character she relates to with a Jamie Fraser inspired love interest!

Before she ever talked of whether we'd met Az's person, she told us there was someone special for Lucien and went on to reveal Elain as his mate the very next year.

On Tumblr, she called Lucien "my love" and said this of Az in a special edition of FAS:

She told us how she purposely did not have Nesta and Lucien end up together because she realized they'd cause one another more pain and Elain took both she and Lucien by surprise so she mated them instead. Using your 2+2=4 logic, she mated Lucien to someone who would not cause him more pain. That means, despite their current state of tension, they're going to have growth and healing together (authors own words). Would that not be a little odd to read about in an E/riel book? Elain and Lucien having growth and healing together yet she ends up with Az in the end? If Az can't even handle the scent of her bond I cannot imagine what he'd do watching them become closer, turning into BFFs, seeing Elain make Lucien smile, seeing Lucien make Elain smile.

As far as plots, Lucien (not Az) is connected to the things threatening their entire world: Koschei and Vassa, Beron, Spring.

Elain is connected to those things too. Because of her visions and the very obvious hints SJM added to the books.

Az is connected to the Illyrians and any future time travel plots that may be introduced.

Elain is not connected to either of those things.

"Az's journey" could very well include him being humbled over how wrong he was about Elain, Lucien and Elucien, at which point he'll have his own growth and then be deserving of his own mate at some point.

I'm curious why you'd come onto a Pro Elucien / Anti E/riel blog and send messages like this? My stance is very clear at this point so you have to know I'm going not going to agree with you at all.

#anti e/riel

[tarttheart]

PRECIOUS LOVE: PROLOGUE - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: a crush leads to a one night stand leads to four years away from England.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: language, sexual references, pregnancy loss.

-

prologue: didn’t know what to do with myself

Before Keeley, there had been you.

You had been off limits. Everyone knew that. It had been an unwritten rule at Man City. At first, it was out of respect for De Bryune (and partly because no one wanted to suffer his wrath if they broke your heart). But then, everyone got to know you and it became evident that the rule had to stand. You were affable to a fault and you had this knack for drawing people out no matter how hard their exterior was. Everyone loved you and there was no way anyone could pursue you without a potential falling out with the team if things went pear-shaped so no one did.

Until Jamie.

Jamie was still living in his Prince of Pricks era but even he struggled with not becoming enamoured by you. You were always so sincere and genuinely interested in him (and anyone) as a person that he grappled with having actual feelings for you. Jamie did not do actual feelings. Not even a little bit.

Jamie made every effort to push you away and out of his life but you made it impossible. Despite how much of a prick he had been to you, you had unabashedly pulled him into a long, long, long hug after chancing upon an encounter because Jamie and his dad. To say it had not gone down well would be putting it mildly but the way you had wordlessly walked up to him and pulled him into a long, tight hug had said it all and had undone all the walls Jamie had tried to put up.

It was the last post-season celebration Jamie would attend for a while. He was going to be loaned to Richmond next year and he would be leaving soon. Who knows when he would be back? If ever there was a time to shoot his shot, it was now.

Which worked out perfectly.

Your time in Manchester was never permanent. You had moved from London for a promotion. It had worked out well that De Bryune was in Manchester and your friendship meant you instantly befriended a literal team of people. It had made life in Manchester far more interesting and fun but you had been offered another promotion which involved yet another relocation. It was much further away this time and unfortunately, you knew no one there. But, it fulfilled your dream of living overseas. So, while De Bryune had been disappointed that one of his key connections to life outside of football was due to leave, he could only send you off with his well wishes.

“I’m really happy for you. I know how much you dreamt of moving away and seeing the world and now you will.”

You smiled, “took a lot longer to make my dream come true compared to you though.”

“It’s not a competition,” De Bryune chided before continuing, “you know, if you have other dreams, you should work on them too.”

You hummed softly to yourself as you ignored the underlying meaning to Kevin’s comment.

He cleared his throat and continued, “fine, don’t talk to me about it. But we’ve known each other since we were kids. As much as I hate that you do, I know you like Jamie. And I’m pretty sure Jamie likes you. He’s a prick but pretty sure that’s a shell. Probably didn’t need to tell you that. So, my point is, you’re off soon as is he. If you want to make your feelings known before you go, you’ve got my blessing.”

Kevin tapped his empty bottle against the railing on the balcony of Rodri’s house where the post-season celebration was underway.

“Think on it. You deserve to be happy,” Kevin said before whispering, “even if it’s with a prick.”

You laughed, “thanks, Kev, but I am already happy.”

Later that night, as the party fragmented, you found yourself with Jamie through it all. Whether it was playing darts as a team or having a chat about your years ahead with him off to Richmond and you across the world to Australia, you two were joined at the hip.

You excused yourself for the bathroom and found what Kevin had said weighing heavily on your mind. Snap out of it, you repeated over and over in your head.

It had all been too much. Sitting with Jamie all night after Kevin went home to Michele and the boys. Then, playing snooker together had really taken its toll. He had been so incredibly nice despite how terrible you had been. He quietly praised you and even hugged you when you pocketed a ball. You had been overwhelmed and it did not help that you had been drinking since noon.

So, when you emerged from the bathroom to find him there, boring his eyes into yours as he checked up on you, you found yourself succumbing to the urge to kiss him. And while Jamie knew he was not supposed to, since when did Jamie listen to rules?

-

For the first month or so that you were away, you kept up some communication with Jamie. The occasional message commenting on each other’s Instagram pictures. Then, Jamie noticed that the messages became less frequent and a lot more distant. At some point, he realised you never initiated conversation anymore and he would never admit it but it broke his heart.

So, Jamie did the usual Jamie thing of covering it up by fucking the next fit model he met - Keeley Jones.

-

It had been four years, four long years. You had spent all of it overseas, not once did you return to England because why would you?

Your family had dispersed as everyone had grown up. Sure, your parents did still live in England. They had moved to Oxford since your dad retired and your mum received an offer to continue her research at the university there but if anyone understood being away for work, it was them. Your own sisters had long left England with one moving to Germany with her husband after he had been transferred there and the other moving to Canada for her own career. So, your move to Australia was almost expected. Anticipated. Celebrated, even

It sounded harsh but it was true. Your parents had had you late in life and you were completely aware you had been an accident, a little blip in their perfectly planned out lives. Mum was always busy with her research while Dad spent the bulk of his time working away as legal counsel for a big multinational corporation. Much of your time growing up had been spent with your grandparents. You would have dropped everything and returned to England for them in a heartbeat but they had both passed not long after you had graduated so in a way, there was no family to visit in England.

Friends-wise, a good chunk of them were similarly gallivanting around the world. Otherwise, they were starting families like Kevin and that was just not where you were at in life. And, it was not like you did not want to start a family. You almost had but then, it had not quite worked out that way. Which was incidentally a big part of the reason why you had avoided England, despite every excuse you used to justify travelling around Asia Pacific instead of going anywhere near the UK.

You were horrified when you had been called into your boss’ office to be offered a promotion which required your immediate repatriation back to England.

“What about that role in Amsterdam we discussed? There was also that role in Tokyo since Masuda is leaving?”

“Yes but I think you’ll find this offer much more attractive.”

And you had. These roles came about once in a blue moon, usually because of a retirement (on occasion, it had been due to a person’s demise but no one talked about that). You knew you had to take it but you also knew it meant being back in England which you had avoided for good reason. But, maybe, there was enough distance between London and Manchester. They were not separated by an ocean but a few hours would be far enough. Afterall, his loan should be over by now.

That was what you repeated to yourself, trying to reassure yourself each moment you felt the panic grip you. It worked until you encountered a bus on your way to work one morning with an advertisement for some stupid dating app called Bantr. It was absolutely not something you were interested in but the familiar face on the ad caught your eye. You took a second look and you were immediately confronted with an image of Jamie Tartt in a Richmond kit.

Oh fuck, you might have made a minor miscalculation. You googled him as soon as you were on the tube to work and slumped into the seat when you realised he had signed to Richmond.

Almost nine million people in London, surely you could go without seeing him.

-

master list | chapter 1 >

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt fic #jamie tartt imagine

[missvelvetsstuff]

Just A Number

Bucky Barnes x Older Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky at a party and the attraction is more than either one of them wants to resist.

Notes: Since most stories are younger readers I felt like having a more mature reader could be a nice change of pace. Especially since I'm creeping up on senior discounts and want to believe Bucky could fall in love with someone like me.

I try to keep my readers description vague but, as always, she's female, tall and this one is obviously 40+

Last chapter.......

Y/N looked at him with lust darkened eyes "Shut up and carry me to my room, Sarge."

Buckys breath caught "Anything you want doll, is yours."

Chapter 12

Warnings: swearing, tiny angst, fluff, dirty talk

***SMUT*** 18+ ONLY

Bucky grabbed the back of her thighs and whispered in her ear "Jump"

She almost asked how high but simply smiled and complied, wrapping her legs around his waist, robe falling behind her and night shirt pushed up to her waist, until he could feel her heat leaking through her panties.

"Jamie, please..." She moaned as he stopped to hold her up against a wall and kissed down her neck to the swell of her breasts.

He mumbled into her skin "Where is your fucking room? I need to be inside you sweetheart."

Y/N pulled one of her hands out of his hair and pointed to the stairs "Stairs, right, purple door." Then returned her hand to the back of his head and pulled him up to kiss her again.

They were halfway up the stairs when she bit his bottom lip and he almost stumbled "Careful honey, don't wanna distract me and fall down the stairs."

In a breathy voice she replied "I trust you to keep me safe, Sarge."

Bucky groaned "Do you even know what you do to me doll? So perfect." *kiss* "Smart" *kiss* "and beautiful" kiss*nibble*groan "and funny" *kiss*grunt "and so goddamn sexy I've been losing my mind." *panting*

"I don't think I had so many wet dreams even when I was a teenager. I couldn't share a room with Sam for fear he would hear me. Waking up most mornings with the whisper of your touch and sticky sheets."

Y/N giggled breathily in his ear "I missed you too, Sarge."

Bucky groaned.

He finally found her door and dropped her on the bed before closing and locking it. He looked around her room as he unbuttoned his shirt "So how's the sound carry around here? I suppose sound proof rooms would be too much to ask."

She giggled and he felt his cock throb before she answered "It's not completely soundproof but we bought this when I turned 21 and the trust fund from my biological parents came to me. Michael was still a toddler.

Dawn moved into the apartment upstairs when she turned 21, so with everything we made sure it's all very well insulated. She won't hear much and if we're too much she has fancy headphones."

She smirked at him "I hope you're not too shy because you're going to hear about it in the morning, whether she can hear us or not."

"Thanks for the heads up. I'll just have to make this night worth whatever she can come up with." Bucky kissed her hard before ripping off what little clothing she had and then stripping the rest of his clothes off.

When he was done he stood back to look at her, laid out on her bed like the most decadent dessert he had ever seen, and blushed at how she was checking him out right back.

After a moment she started feeling self conscious and moved to cover her body's evidence of child bearing.

Bucky growled "Don't do that doll, I want to see you."

She shivered as she looked down "You don't need to see my c section scar and stretch marks."

He shook his head "I want all of you, even the scars and imperfections. Don't hide from me. I have some nasty scars myself, you know."

"Yeah but yours are from combat, not taking a stubborn baby out or your skin stretching over the fat from two pregnancies that never quite goes away.

Fighting scars are sexy, definitely not the same."

"Let me show you baby."

He crawled up the bed, stopping to kiss and caress on his way up. He took a quick taste of her dripping heat and groaned at her sweetness. Before she could get too into it he moved up to kiss and nibble at her c section scar. He kissed and traced every one of the stretch marks on her hips, stomach and breasts.

"So beautiful" he whispered in awe of her beauty and willingness to share it with him. Thankful that Sharon hadn't ruined the best thing he ever had.

When he was up to her face he kissed her hard, trying to pour all his love for her into it. The love that scared him and seemed too soon but he didn't care anymore and couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather be than with her.

While they kissed he slowly slid into her drenched heat, the squelching sound just making him harder and needier.

"Goddamn doll, you feel so fucking good. So tight and dripping wet, I don't ever want to leave your sweet pussy." Bucky was rambling into her ear as he thrust into her, already gone for the feelings he had given up on controlling. The more he fucked into her the more that was chipped away at his restraint, the less he could hold back so deep into the moment and how she felt around him.

He sped up until he was slamming into her, hitting her spot every time he thrust into her, encouraged by her moans and whines, trying to become part of her, until he felt his orgasm creeping up and slowed back down. He reached down to rub her clit and groaned when he felt her tighten around him.

"Fuck, Y/N, I can feel you're getting close. I need you to cum for me sweetheart." He grunted, trying to hold his finish back until she came but it was getting to be impossible "Oh god honey, I can't hold back. C'mon baby, give it to me." He sped up "Yesyes, shitshit s'good baby."

Y/N was lost in the moment, in him and the feelings he brought, physical and emotional. She felt her orgasm rushing up on her and was too overwhelmed to do anything but shudder and groan and whine, "Jamie, please".

She felt him swelling inside her, becoming impossibly harder, before he painted her walls with his cum.

As he panted in her ear she couldn't stop the sob from escaping her mouth, her eyes filling with tears. She tried to speak but couldn't. She clawed at his back, needing him closer.

Bucky pulled back to look at her but she turned her head in an attempt to hide the tears from him.

"Y/N? Are you ok? Did I hurt you? Talk to me honey, please." He looked at her anxiously, afraid he had done something wrong.

After a few minutes she was able to stop the crying and looked at him embarrassed "I'm sorry, tonight has been very intense and I get emotional because, hormones." She smiled softly at him "You didn't do anything wrong, you were perfect and I'm....." She mumbled the rest so he didn't understand.

He wiped the tears off of her face, hoping she wouldn't notice his eyes were watery as well.

"You're what doll? You can tell me anything."

She shook her head "No, I don't want to scare you off. It's too soon."

"Too soon for what? I don't think there's anything you could do to scare me off. Just tell me." He coaxed.

Her face heated up and she was grateful for the darkness "I'm falling in love with you." She whispered so softly he almost couldn't hear. Almost.

Bucky smiled and kissed her all over her face then nuzzled in her neck before nibbling on her ear

"I'm in love with you too, Y/N. And I'm not going anywhere."

He got up to get a wet towel and clean them both up before he kissed her slow and deep, laying on his side and pulling her into him.

They both fell asleep quickly, sated and content.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was disturbed by knocking on her bedroom door and grumbled "Go'way, sleepin'.

The person on the other side of the door knocked harder "It's after noon, you bum. It's Sunday, you're late for brunch and the kids are coming tonite." Dawn kept knocking.

"Fine dammit, I'm up. Go'way."

Dawn laughed "Tell your soldier you have to eat to keep your strength up or you'll be a dead lay."

Y/N grumbled and tried to wake Bucky "James." She gently rubbed his right arm "Jamie. Time to get up."

Bucky grunted, rolled to his side and pulled her closer "Mmmm, five more minutes doll."

She shook him "No Jamie. It's time for food, you heard her."

He groaned again "Three more minutes?"

She shook him harder "No Jamie, now. You don't understand, she will come in here if we aren't up soon."

"I'm not afraid of your tiny sister."

Y/N chuckled "You should be. Don't let her size fool you. Besides I smell coffee and bacon. I'm hungry, dammit!"

She tried to crawl over him but he grabbed her and pulled her close with a smirk on his face "Yeah? Me too."

She kissed him hard, licked the tip of his nose then jumped out of bed while he was distracted wiping his nose off "Later sarge, a girls gotta eat."

Bucky grinned "I'll give you something-"

Dawn knocked again "At the table in two minutes or I'm coming in there."

Y/N stuck her tongue out at him and threw on some sweats and a t-shirt. "Don't worry, we have plenty of time to fool around but I'm about to pass out from hunger."

"Fine" Bucky relented "but I'm having dessert after brunch."

As they went to get up they could hear the doorbell and the dogs barking. Y/N gave him a kiss before they headed for the front door to see who was there.

@supraveng @cjand10 @440mxs-wife @kandis-mom @dtba-grey81 @calwitch @ozwriterchick

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #just a number #james bucky barnes x y/n #older reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[amyriadfthings]

[Have the whole interview]

The Projectionist

With Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal, It’s All About Chemistry

After “Fleabag” and “Normal People” made them romantic idols, the two actors forge their own tender bond in “All of Us Strangers.”

“Have you seen the sausage ad?” Andrew Scott asked me.

“No, no, we’re not going to talk about that,” Paul Mescal said.

It was a mid-November morning in Los Angeles, and I was having breakfast with two actors who have created some of the most indelible romantic leads of recent vintage: Scott, 47, played the “Hot Priest” on the second season of “Fleabag,” while the 27-year-old Mescal broke through — and broke hearts — as the conflicted jock Connell in Hulu’s “Normal People.”

Now, instead of aiming those love beams at women, they’ll point them at each other in the drama “All of Us Strangers,” due Dec. 22 in theaters. It’s like an Avengers-level team-up, if the Avengers recruited exclusively from the ranks of sad-eyed Irish heartthrobs who caused a sensation over the 2019-20 television season.

But before we could talk about their sexy, shattering new movie, Scott gently ribbed his co-star about an ad for an Irish sausage brand, Denny, that Mescal had starred in just out of drama school. (Though the rest of the world was introduced to Mescal in “Normal People,” Ireland already knew him from the ubiquitous sausage commercial.)

“Look, I needed that job in a massive way,” Mescal said. “That paid my rent for the rest of the year. But if I could take it back …”

“Ah, no, it’s lovely you have that!” Scott said. “I actually thought the character you created in the sausage ad was …”

“… career defining?” Mescal offered.

“It made me want a sausage!” Scott said a little too eagerly, causing both men to laugh. “Easy, folks, that’s too easy a joke,” Mescal said.

Scott and Mescal’s teasing, affectionate chemistry is put to excellent use in “All of Us Strangers,” directed by Andrew Haigh (“Weekend,” “45 Years”). Scott stars as Adam, a lonely writer who finds that his childhood home has become a mysterious portal that allows him to reconnect with his long-dead parents (played by Claire Foy and Jamie Bell). At the same time as Adam grapples with this past made manifestly present, he navigates an uncertain but tantalizing future with his neighbor Harry (Mescal), with whom he develops an intense romantic bond.

Over breakfast, we discussed the movie, which recently took the top prize at the British Independent Film Awards in addition to wins for directing, writing and Mescal’s supporting performance. Here are edited excerpts from our conversation.

Andrew, you were attached to this movie first. How did you feel when Paul was cast?

SCOTT I was really thrilled because I was hoping that people would be able to see how cinematic and brilliant that role is.

MESCAL It never occurred to me that people wouldn’t be interested in it.

SCOTT Well, the character is such a vessel for love. To be able to play love, it’s something that you have to just know how to embody, and Paul is so excellent about being able to allow the audience in. When I heard he was interested, I was saying to Andrew, “Make that happen!”

MESCAL Even if I didn’t like the script or Andrew Haigh as much as I do, and I knew Andrew [Scott] was going to be doing the film, I still would have done the film.

SCOTT Would you?

MESCAL A hundred percent. And I know that probably sounds sycophantic, but when I was reading it and imagining you’d do it, I thought, “This is built for an actor of your caliber.” There’s lots of brilliant dramatic actors in the world, but what I think separates Andrew is his capacity to understand the dramatic requirements of a scene but also to play utterly against it. He finds humor in subject matter like this, which is really quite heavy, and if you can make an audience laugh, you’re halfway to making them cry.

This is a very tactile movie, too.

SCOTT There’s so much touching, whether that’s familial touching or a more sensual thing. People have talked an awful lot about the chemistry and the sex between our characters, but actually what I think is really radical and affecting about the relationship is how affectionate and tender they are with each other. It’s such a beautiful thing to play, isn’t it? Just real care.

MESCAL I find it healing to watch that kind of emotional intimacy. I remember being surprised when we watched it for the first time, because I didn’t remember being so close to your face when we were talking, how we were totally taking each other in. There’s a weird thing that I don’t think you can cheat: You know how when somebody you love is talking to you, and you look at their lips? It’s like, Jesus, I can’t remember doing that.

Andrew, you’ve said before that acting is a matter of revealing. What’s being revealed about you by taking on this role?

SCOTT I think an awful lot, if I’m honest. I’m happy to be able to say that to be emancipated from shame has been genuinely the biggest achievement of my life. For a long time, I have felt very comfortable with myself, but it doesn’t take much to go back there — something a taxi driver can say can still wound you. If he might say, “You’ve got a wife?” You could go, “No, I don’t,” or is that sort of a lie by omission? I think the challenge was to undo the work and go to that place where you feel frightened.

How were you able to emancipate yourself from shame?

SCOTT I genuinely think that acting helped me. When I was a kid, I started doing elocution lessons because I had a really bad lisp. “She sells seashells,” I had to say that 17 times a day. So they sent me to elocution, which was boring, but eventually it was speech and drama classes. I was so shy and terrified, but then someone would say, “Get up and do an improvisation,” and some part of me felt …

MESCAL … free?

SCOTT Free, and I loved it. And then I practiced it a little bit more and then started doing it as a job. When I was 18 or 19, I was playing gay parts but I wasn’t out. A lot of people within the industry were queer, so I was surrounded by them and then, bit by bit, started to feel confident. To make something like [“All of Us Strangers”], it moves me, because I never thought that I’d get a chance to expose myself so much in a film like this or for it to be in such a trusting environment with such brilliant colleagues.

And do you rush headlong into the chance to expose yourself like that?

SCOTT I do. It’s my responsibility. The further I go into acting, I think that’s all it is, actually.

In the first scene you share, Paul’s character is boldly trying to flirt his way into Andrew’s apartment. Paul, it’s a kick to see you play a man so assertive and sure of what he wants.

MESCAL I was just so giddy because I don’t think I’ve got many opportunities to play somebody like that. It reminded me of characters I would have played in drama school — a lot more front-footed, a little bit bolder. Part of it was surprising an audience that might associate me with more interior, back-footed characters that I’ve played.

SCOTT I remember so clearly you saying the line, “There’s vampires at my door.” That line could seem completely preposterous and it’s a hard sell, but it’s unique, right? I’m obsessed with writing that has a real autograph about it.

MESCAL ChatGPT wouldn’t come up with that.

SCOTT Exactly. And human beings have an extraordinary way of expressing themselves. I feel the same way when people talk about big acting.

MESCAL I love big acting.

SCOTT Some people do that kind of polite, nobody-will-notice-me acting, and sometimes it can be a little dull.

MESCAL You’re looking for an opportunity to play something truthfully, but also if that truth can be a bigger, more fractious choice, maybe that could be fun.

What’s the biggest acting you’ve ever done?

SCOTT Oh my God. Pick a card, any card. I did a play called “Present Laughter” by Noël Coward, about a guy who’s an over-the-top actor. It was kind of a farce, and I’m obsessed with farce.

MESCAL I am so jealous of people who can do farce, I don’t know where I would start.

SCOTT It’s all about timing the slam of the door, and there’s no greater feeling than when you’re talking to the other actor and you are waiting for the audience to stop laughing. You’d love it because it’s so physical as well.

MESCAL I’m just a bit scared of comedy because I didn’t do a lot of it in drama school. Don’t think [I’ve got] a particularly funny disposition.

SCOTT Are you out of your mind? I’m going to have a little think now.

MESCAL I’d love to do a rom-com.

SCOTT I think you’d be very good at playing some sort of neurotic.

MESCAL Really?

SCOTT Yeah. I love those kinds of characters that don’t have a sense of humor.

MESCAL No sense of humor. Great. I can do that, I can do that easily. [Laughs.]

With “Normal People” and “Fleabag,” where you played romantic leads, how did you handle the intensity of the audience imprinting on you?

MESCAL I remember the first couple of months of that happening, I was like, “Jesus, what can I do?” And the answer is actually nothing. There’s nothing you can do about it if somebody wants to imprint or project onto you.

SCOTT That was all during the pandemic, wasn’t it?

MESCAL Yeah, yeah.

Was it better or worse that you were in your house for most of it?

MESCAL Much, much better. Even doing junkets when “Normal People” came out, I was really glad to do it within the confines of my own home. I could put the laptop down and nobody knew where I was.

Andrew, you weren’t trapped at home when “Fleabag” came out. Could you tell something had changed in the way people perceived you?

SCOTT It already happened a little bit when I did “Sherlock” [playing Moriarty] because that really does have a fandom. There were like a thousand people that would come to set, it was absolutely insane.

MESCAL Jesus.

SCOTT So “Fleabag" was completely different in that sense. It didn’t have the same frenzy.

Maybe not as you were filming it, but there was definitely a passionate fandom once it was released.

SCOTT There was, but I really enjoyed that because I love the show. I’m so proud of it and I loved that part, so I liked that it really affected people so much.

MESCAL Still! I watch it once a year.

Paul, you even dressed as the hot priest for Halloween.

MESCAL I did. That went down a bit of a storm.

When you have a breakthrough project like those two series, and you’re seen differently in this business afterward, is it hard not to get swept up by all the offers that come your way?

MESCAL I know what I like. I don’t have the confidence in myself as an actor to do something that isn’t good. I don’t think I can pull the wool over people’s eyes with bells and whistles in terms of performance, and I’m actually glad I can’t do that.

SCOTT But is it weird when you are in L.A. now? I opened up my curtains this morning, and there you are.

MESCAL Yeah, my Gucci billboard.

SCOTT That’s insane.

MESCAL It is bananas. Yeah, I’m really proud of that, but I’m also acutely aware the only reason that’s happening is because people are enjoying the work that I’m doing. It can all disappear, like that.

Paul, you’re currently working on Ridley Scott’s sequel to “Gladiator.” I’m sure you’ve been pursued for a lot of blockbusters, so what made you choose this one?

MESCAL I love the first film and I think Ridley is an all-time great, so that was a no-brainer to me. I don’t really have a desire to make lots of big films in my life, but if this was the only big film I was ever to make, I would put my name into the mix anywhere for that. I’m having a great time doing it, but I also think there’s an obligation to understand that I don’t want an audience to get bored of me, or expect me to do the big indie film every year or two, because they’re really hard to get right.

Which is hard to get right, the big film or the indie?

MESCAL A film like “All of Us Strangers” or “Aftersun.” I’ve been incredibly lucky that those scripts came across my desk because there’s lots of other indies that are really well intentioned that don’t reach an audience. Also, it’s hard to go to the emotional well year after year with stuff like this, so I don’t want an audience to get bored of my choices or expect that I’m going to do that.

SCOTT Do you remember you got the “Gladiator” call when we were on the set of “All of Us Strangers”? You were so excited. I think I was even more excited, but you were so lit up about it. I think one of the fun things about being an actor that’s open to you is that you can do whatever you really want.

MESCAL That’s what makes you tick, to go from scenes like we get to play in “All of Us Strangers” to then doing stuff where you’re running around in an arena. If I was to boil down why I love this job, it’s that you get to go to work and pretend all day long but the thing that you would imagine as a child is actually actualized.

SCOTT Have there been any moments in “Gladiator” where you’re like, “This is amazing”?

MESCAL The first day was just bananas. There was camels and thousands of extras. Two close-ups on me. A close-up on the action. And you’re just like, “I’ve got to fake this till I make it.” Wild. Wild. Wild.

SCOTT Yeah, it’s playing. It really is. You’re required to play a part, you’re not required to work a part.

It’s heartening to hear you both describe acting as play or pretend. You talk about it in such joyful terms, but some of the other leading men I’ve spoken to will …

MESCAL … fetishize the pain.

SCOTT It embarrasses them.

MESCAL It’s important to say that “pretend” doesn’t make it any less emotional or difficult to do, but I think it actually gives you a greater range of possibility in a scene. That’s not to say there weren’t days on [“All of Us Strangers”] that felt like some sort of psychological torture.

SCOTT Absolutely.

MESCAL But the act of making it? It can’t be that, because then it just becomes about “How hard can I grip this table? How much pain can I put myself through in order to talk about it to the press?”

SCOTT I think of it sometimes like you invited somebody around for dinner and you said, “I could not find any organic chicken in the market, it was an absolute nightmare. Then I had to hoover the place from top to bottom.” And they’re just like, “Give me a glass of wine. I don’t want to hear about what you did, I’m just here for dinner.”

MESCAL Yeah, that’s spot on.

SCOTT What you need to do is have the generosity to get the chicken out.

MESCAL Organic or not.

Kyle Buchanan is a pop culture reporter and serves as The Projectionist, the awards season columnist for The Times. He is the author of “Blood, Sweat & Chrome: The Wild and True Story of Mad Max: Fury Road.” More about Kyle Buchanan

A version of this article appears in print on Dec. 7, 2023, Section C, Page 1 of the New York edition with the headline: Two Hearts Beating As One. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

#haven´t seen anyone screenshot or copy paste it so #all of us strangers #andrew scott #paul mescal #aous press #only 7 hours until I see it