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#ask box is always open
polyamorousmood · 6 months
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Okay so I'm super aro but also shaking hands with polyam people like YES technically in a way they're opposites (lack of romo love vs multiple romo loves) but like! We're all vibing in a denying ananormanitvity in our own ways! I adore y'all!!
Also shakes this blog around like a rag doll /affectionate positive etc
- Loveless aro who stares at your blog from time to time but has to stop because I smile to the point of my face being sore + WAYYY too emotional and cries sometimes aahzgzhs- In a good way to be clear!!
Also very less important thing but holds polyam ships very gently they're all so neat aough shakes them around /affectionate
YESSSSSS!
We are siblings-in-arms 🤝, we are friends🫂, we are partners in crime🦹, we are locking eyes and giving each other a single firm nod of understanding and comradery, we are allies fighting literally the same fight⚔️.
My rights to choose the family I want is the same as your right to choose the family you want. The more we say "any relationship can be as important as --or more important than!-- romance" the sillier it becomes to champion a single romantic connection as one's life purpose.
Our fates and our fingers are twined, my aro friend. We will lift the other up when one stumbles, and we trek to the brighter world together. 🫴 Take my hand
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*tick tick tick, chonk, the clock struck 9:59, spring Bonnie was sound asleep, everyone else was asleep as well, except for mangle, the anticipation was killing her...*
“I need to find something to do…*looking around she saw toy Chica and toy Bonnie sleeping on the stage toy Freddy was sleeping on the floor next to the stage and balloon boy was sleeping where he normally sat mangle was getting more bored when*” “hahahahah i am so sorry but I just hahaha it’s hilarious how many times you forget that I exist it’s *weaseing laughter*”-ebo “well do you have any ideas?”-a slightly annoyed mangle “no…”-ebo “I thought so.”-mangle *getting really bored mangle starts humming*”hm hm hm hmhm hmhmhm hm hm hm hmhm hmhmhm hm hm hmhm hm hm hmhm hm hm hm *starts over*
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jamiesfootball · 8 months
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dumbest reason(s) someone on the team got injured
In no particular order:
-rolled their ankle thinking there was one more stair (Ted)
-pulled a groin muscle trying to step over a chair at movie night (Isaac)
-tried to catch a thrown water bottle with his mouth (Jamie)
-forgot to duck getting something out of his locker (Colin)
-got distracted reading a book on the exercise bike and when he got off the bike he tried to 'pedal' instead of walk (Sam)
-turning around while tall in a shower (Jan Maas)
-slipped on a banana peel (Zoreaux)
-tried to exit a pull door by pushing while running away because it was his banana peel (Dani)
-burned his mouth on some tea and talked with a lisp the rest of the day so he just didn't talk (Roy)
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Favorite whump trope?
Oh this is hard. Love the hiding an injury scenario and the whumpee thinking they are alone/unloveable/uncared for and then eventually is just loved on by one person or a group.
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thirteenemeraldcats · 3 months
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in one of your tags you mentioned-
'one of the things that gets chatted about A LOT in teaching is meeting students at their point of need- which ted does NOT do with jamie'
I would love to hear more of your thoughts on this! Both in terms of what that concept entails, and also what you think Jamie's point of need was at the time versus what Ted saw the situation needing
(You have excellent tags btw, don't know if anyone's mentioned that)
I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS THAT I LOVE THAT YOU'D LOVE TO HEAR!
(I have more thoughts than I anticipated, this got errr, long. Whoops)
(potentially necessary/relevant background here is I am a high school teacher 👋)
Okie dokie, so, one of the principles of best practice in teaching is the idea I tag-rambled above; meet both the individual students and collective class at their point of need. Essentially this means practising differentiation in teaching and adjusting how content/ideas are communicated to students based on who they are as learners and people. Particularly if a student is performing outside the 'average' (either exceeding or still developing), this means adjusting to their needs by (among other things) curating differentiated resources and adapting delivery style. Differentiation is especially important in an all-abilities classroom, unfortunately public education is perpetually underfunded and overcrowded so everyone's just out here doing their best (the decent people of the world at least). BUT! WHILE I'M ON IT! SPEAKING OF THE THINGS I'VE TAG RAMBLED, the education system's (global) inability to adequately differentiate for students of different-abilities, particularly students with ADHD, ASD and Dyslexia, is perhaps the greatest failing of the whole dang thing and if anyone who ever stumbles across this is neuro-divergent and feels like they were a bad student or couldn't 'keep up' in mainstream education- THAT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. You don't have to break yourself to 'fit', school is MEANT to bend for you. (Particularly when you're young, ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU'RE YOUNG)
ANYWAY, the fictional football of it all!
We don't see a lot of Ted actually coaching in this show (stick with me). The scenes in which he 'coaches' are typically him and various other coaching staff standing on the sidelines while the team skirmishes or occasionally runs drills, so me saying Ted doesn't differentiate is more based around his patented Ted-talks. NOW, Ted PROBABLY knows the team fairly well as individuals, particularly in season 2 and 3, purely by having spent quite a lot of time with them, despite this the only times we really see him 'adjust' his style with the team are ironically season 1 (examples include conferencing Jamie and Roy in 1x04 For The Children, and allowing/facilitating Nate's speech in 1x07 Make Rebecca Great Again). The moment that always sticks out to me as most significant is when he goes and seeks out Keeley's advice on how to get through to Jamie in 1x02 Biscuits.
Side note: I will be forever obsessed with Keeley jumping straight from 'blowjobs' to one of the four operant conditioning techniques (positive reinforcement) when asked about this. That woman is a very fascinating puzzle of a person.
Ted recognises that his typical perpetual-optimism-style isn't cracking the Jamie-Tartt-nut and seeks out a different opinion. This kind of collaboration and whole-system approach is key in teaching too, either by tapping the knowledge-well of a student's broader school context or the difficult-to-crack student's parents.
SO, having gotten the Jamie-Tartt-cheat-code from Keeley he DOES meet Jamie at his point of need, speaks clearly to him and communicates what he needs from him. AND IT WORKS! Temporarily! During the conversation between the two in Ted's office we see Jamie engage, he even practises self-reflection! Granted it's about his left foot cross, but still! The nut is cracked.
Jamie even maintains the perspective Ted has taught him for about two seconds while talking to Trent, until Jamie's other (definitely not positively-reinforced) behaviours rear up and he reverts to what James others have taught him.
On the other hand.
Multiple times throughout the show we see Jamie be visibly or verbally confused by Ted's communication style. Ted often talks in meandering metaphors that Jamie doesn't seem to be able to follow. We verbally hear him state 'Why doesn't he just say that then, do you know what I mean?' in 2x07 Headspace after Beard has to translate Ted's 'peas and carrots/beefchunks' analogy to 'starters and reserves'. Then there's the infamous 'What the fuck are Denver Broncos?' from 3x09 La Locker Room Aux Folles. The only notable time we really see Jamie 'get' one of these metaphors is the sewer-system-tunnels from 3x01 Smells Like Mean Spirit.
(His understanding of that specific metaphor, along with his use of the magnets to demonstrate total football in 3x07 The Strings That Bind, and a Watsonian-perspective of his near perfect mimicry of movements he saw two years ago when executing the decoy play in 3x12 So Long, Farewell, are actually all examples I use to head-canon Jamie as a primarily visual/physical based learner. For whatever that's worth!)
NOW! Ted's willingness to seek and apply alternate techniques in season 1 when he should know the team as both individuals and a collective the least, coupled with his inability or unwillingness to practise differentiation in later seasons when he DOES KNOW THEM is why I don't think Ted is meeting the team, specifically Jamie at their/his point of need. Any person's ability to differentiate behaviour to meet the needs/requirements/comforts of the individual or group they're talking to is increased the more they know them. (We all do this in life, consciously or subconsciously we typically try and 'match the vibe' of whoever we're communicating with [doubly so for people who're engaging in masking.])
Ted should and does learn more about Jamie as a person and his background as the show progresses. He listens to Jamie vocalise both his internal justifications for his actions and his reflections of those justifications/actions in 1x06 Two Aces, he sees him being explicitly physically abused in 1x10 The Hope That Kills You, he listens to him describe a spiralling mindset in 2x02 Lavender, he sees him being explicitly verbally abused in 2x08 Man City.
Of course, one of the fascinating things about Jamie is how much he learns and grows over the course of the show, and there are instances in which I don't think Ted is recognising that (primarily his dismissal of Jamie in 3x03 4-5-1 and not utilising Jamie's knowledge of total football as a resource from the beginning in 3x07 The Strings That Bind).
Ted understands and has previously applied Jamie responding well to positive reinforcement, yet at multiple times in the series doesn't respond in a way that reflects his perspective being informed by that knowledge. Essentially not practising the appropriate level of care/caution when interacting with/around Jamie.
There's not intervening on Jamie's behalf in 2x03 Do the Right-est Thing or 2x06 The Signal when the team and Roy are targeting or ignoring him respectively. The assumed absence of any follow up to the events of 2x08 Man City, the Zava of it all in season 3, and of course the eternal 'forgiveness' kicker from 3x11 Mom City.
POINT BEING. And to actually answer your inquiry lol, I think Jamie is someone who needs clear communication, ideally bracketed in positive reinforcement based operant conditioning as a learning technique (reward behaviour you want reinforced by offering something desirable [praise in Jamie's case]) and visual/physical aid/references for concepts; as a LEARNER.
AS A PERSON, there's more. Ted can readily infer from all he's heard and seen that Jamie's a victim of child abuse. The long term damage to the adult psyche that abuse during formative years has is astronomical, it literally changes the foundational structures of a person's brain. And yet, again, we never see Ted even acknowledge this. Jamie in 3x11 Mom City, incidentally compares his father to Freddy Krueger, Ted elaborates on the comparison, then Jamie reiterates that Freddy Krueger's 'fucking terrifying'. Ted doesn't reassure Jamie (the requirement of his point of need), he gives him a Ted-talk (and in doing so doesn't differentiate his perspective/communication technique).
As far as what Ted thought the situation needed... search me I've got no idea. I do think Ted projects onto Jamie a hell of a lot. That he gets Jamie's personhood and life experiences all tangled up in the emotions he has about his father's death and his consequent perceived abandonment, his insecurities about his own ability to parent Henry and even in his own inability to clearly communicate with his mother. I do think Ted relies on his own forced optimism to 'get by'. Like how a great white shark dies if it stops swimming, if Ted stops being 'Ted', if he stops swimming, his past and his fears and his feelings will catch up to him and swallow him whole. (For what it's worth, I do think Ted is more unwell than even the show explicitly tells us, much like Jamie experiencing ongoing trauma due to childhood abuse, the effects both short-term and long-term as well as potential causalities of having a parent die by suicide are... grim.)
(Essentially the entire fandom has talked about basically all of this at one point or another, I'm just using slightly different language.)
NOW! These characters are fictional (obviously) and I am judging them based on real-people conventions and the best-principles of my own profession, as well as my background in theoretical psychology (which I think I forgot to mention and is also probably [??] relevant). My Doylist-perspective of Ted and his coaching/communication style is ...kinder, but if I get too sucked into the narrative it results in either brief tag-rambles or... whatever this thing I've just typed is. I think it's been too long since I've written academically, my thoughts have gone circular 🫠
ANYWAY! I hope this made something-approaching sense! Thank you again for asking to hear my thoughts! Always happy to word vomit!
ALSO, thank you for saying my tags are excellent (you are the first and currently only to say so!) - The tags are where I send my thoughts to die (in a 'I must banish them to move on' kind of way rather than a 'I'm strangling them' kind of way) so you saying they're excellent is even MORE flattering than you realise! Makes my brain want to purr 💚🤣
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sagechanoafterdark · 3 months
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It's always gonna be the suspenders kink with Mike.
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Mike wearing the suspenders is an absolute thirst trap. I'm weak.
Snap!
Snap!
SNAP!
"Ouch, god damn babe."
"Shhh, hands to the side baby."
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
Mike groaned under you. His cock twitched with each snap of the suspenders against his already pink skin. The sting sinking all the way down into his bones and straight to his cock buried to the hilt in you. Even the bite of his zipper made his cock jump and twitch as you looked down at him with stern and focused eyes.
"Come on baby," he cooed under you as hands caressed up and down over your thighs. "Ride me."
SNAP!
He hissed through his teeth with that one as you frowned down at him. Lips pursed in mock annoyance as your fingers played with the strap again. Pulling it back, SNAP, it cracked against an exposed nipple. Mike winced with that one, his chest flush with arousal and lightly welted with little pink stripes from his punishment.
Squeezing his cock in the way you knew would make him groan and plead under you.
"You're not in charge here," you reminded him with a scolding tone. Clenching in just the right way you knew would make him groan and push him to the edge of begging again.
A flush of pleasure ran through you as you held his cock inside of you. Power and lust mixed in your blood as you gave a few jerks of your hips and Mike struggled to stay as still as possible.
A soft string of curses fell from his lips.
"Who's in charge, Michael?"
Groaning deep in his chest, as his fingers dug into your slowly gyrating hips.
SNAP!
SNAP!
SNAP!
"Who?"
"You are," he gasped out, hands loosening against your rolling hips as he swallowed around the knot in his throat. "You're in charge, baby."
Rewarding him with a soft caress against the pink welted flesh of his chest, it pulled a sigh from him. Mike looked up at you through heavy lashes, fluttering along with his shuddering breath as your fingertips neared his nipple. Hissing and hips jerking against you as you seized a nipple in a tight pinch. The sensation went straight to his cock, throbbing inside of you with need and the effort it took to hold back.
It passed after a moment, Mike's labored breaths sounding loud in the quiet of the room.
A hum of approval sounded in your chest, "Good boy." You praised, leaning down and capturing his lips in a hungry kiss of tongue and teeth.
"Now," you husked against his swollen begging mouth. "Make me feel good."
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abubblingcandle · 2 months
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Well done on compiling the spreadsheet! I've been thinking of doing something similar to keep track of my wips for ages but I've yet to sit down and actually do it, it's a lot of work!
How about number 42?
It is but I was laid in bed last night and was like stewing on one of the ideas and thought ... "I've never actually written down anything about this idea, oops" and so did this today!
@thirteenemeraldcats also asked for 42 but also another one so I'll do 42 here and the other in reply to that ask :)
42 - The 16 year old Jamie fic
So this fic is inspired by what I learnt a few months ago about Archie Gray at Leeds United. Quick Archie summary but he is a 17 year old Leeds wonderkid from a family of Leeds United players (his grandad, his great uncle, his dad all played for Leeds for the majority of their careers and his younger brother is in the youth set up). He's made it into the starting line up this year and he pointed it out in a post match interview that according the FA and Leeds rules ... he has his own private changing room because it is a safeguarding risk to have a minor changing and showering with adults.
This just got me thinking about what if Jamie hadn't been 23 when he was loaned to Richmond, what if he had been 16? This wonderkid who Man City don't really know what to do with coming straight into the Richmond starting line up and desperate to prove himself to everyone including his idol Roy Kent. His dad moving down to London with him. Not really being included in the team and team bonding as they just go out drinking.
Then Ted arrives and Jamie's never had a coach like Ted. He doesn't know what to do with it
Roy huffs as he watches Jamie bat away the hand Colin was offering to help him up off the floor. The kid's blue grey eyes were misting over with tears of frustration but his lips were pressed together in a mask of fury directed at the grass itself. Roy remembered being like that. He remembered being called up and touted as the best thing since sliced bread at an age where your main worries should be whose dating who and how you were going to survive your exams. But unlike Jamie, Roy wasn't a champion asshole about it. He took the hits, he paid his dues with only the token bullshit expected from an up and coming star. Then other younger models came through the ranks, Roy made his big career move and all that strife was history. It had seemed like the worst thing ever at the time. Now it was just remembered as a stepping stone. "Get the fuck up Tartt, your fault. Get over it," Roy growled, kicking the ball away from Jamie's feet and pinging it back over to O'Brien for the goal kick. The death stare from the young striker would have unnerved a lesser man. Roy glared back until Jamie flinched first and rolled to his feet.
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murkyfutures · 5 days
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I am a worshiper without a Goddess, a devotee without anything to worship. Please, my almighty Goddess, show yourself, I beg you!
Must I kill? Must I Starve? I'll do it! Please, reveal yourself to me!
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gascansposts · 18 days
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Dnd ocs! Okay left from right are KenKen the Kenku bard, Alder Nightwood the elf rogue, Sereithia Aetherialis the triton Ranger and Fei Sundancer air genasi monk! They are traveling group of musicians and dancers, with KenKen and Alder being the main musicians while Sereithia and Fei are the usual dancers! Sometimes they switch it up and all four of them can sing, dance, and play at least one instrument, but this is usually how they present themselves. KenKen is currently middle aged, and the Party Dad (tm). Alder is around 19-25 for elven age range. Sereithia is around her mid 20s and Fei is an older teen at about 17-19 in age range! I’m actually pretty happy with these designs and i think I’m finally getting how colors work!! Yippee!!
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I need yall's opinions on something
Does this hoodie look drab/dirty/like it's never been washed?? Cuz my mom told me yesterday that I need to get rid of it, replace it, or outright stop wearing it cuz as she said it "made other people think I look homeless" despite only ever getting compliments with it and I've only had it for a year
Here is the hoodie in question (note that it had been just washed and dried when I took this photo)!
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Please tell me if my fashion senses are complete shit or not like my Mom was trying to imply (but she told me she was only trying to ""help me"")!
Thanks!!
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nickelkeep · 3 months
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WIP Game
I was tagged by @imbiowaresbitch. Don't you get enough of my wips? LOL
Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell us about it. Then tag as many people as you have WIPs. If you don't write, list your art WIPs!
"Damsel" Dean
Cullrian
Destiny Renfaire
Heat/Rut Clinic
In Vino Veritas
Ring Pop Fic
Trin Macrame
Siren Fic
Mystery Town
Ash's Return
CasBenny Purgatory
Crossing of Swords
Leather Librarian
This isn't all of my WIPs, but the others are for bangs, so not talking about those.
tagging: @bleuzombie, @cr-noble-writes, @wigglebox, @casblackfeathers, @envydean, @kingdumbass, @anyreiart, @queerwolfsstuff, and anyone else who wants to play
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polyamorousmood · 11 months
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Hey! Sorry to bother, but I was wondering if you can recommend any books with or about polyamorous relationships? I know there are some shows and movies that include polyamory, but as I'm more of a reader recently, I'd love to read something with at least a mention of such relationships, and good recs are hard to find.
I'm mostly interested in fiction, but if you have any non-fiction you think people curious about the topic should read, that'd be great too.
Again, sorry to bother you, but I've been thinking about it for a while and decided to shoot my shot. Thanks in advance for the response!
Unfortunately, I've not been able to read as much lately as I would like so I don't have many recommendations personally. I've heard of a few, but I'd hate to suggest something that ended up being... not very good 🫤
The only one I can vouch for is @thebibliosphere 's Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites 🧛which if somehow you haven't heard about before now, is a poly paranormal romance novel. The book spends most of its time on the relationship blossoming, so there's not quite as much with all three as I had hoped, but I'm pretty sure sequels are in the works! And I really liked what was there! Its not a bad thing to finish a novel and be left wanting more 😉The author is also super cool, making smutty and fluffy versions of the same book and writing free fanfic of her own work. Seriously, she's one to support.
Anyone else who has more to add, please do!! 📙📚📖I'll keep an eye on the notes and reblog some additions. Maybe the promise of good poly content will actually get me motivated to start reading again 😅
P.S. Please do not feel the need to apologize for sending in asks! I love hearing from others! 😍 Please keep asking things!!
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Mangle! Ebo! I found a secondary power source I can use to let Ebo wander wherever he likes!!
”wander?”-ebo.
Are you thinking of taking him and one of my legs aand the other hand?
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jamiesfootball · 3 months
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29 for the whump dialogue prompt perhaps?
"Tell me where it hurts, and be specific."
He doesn't know how it went wrong so fast. He never fucking knows.
"Get him out! Get him out of here right the fuck now!"
He never knew how it was that his dad could ruin everything as quick as upending a box, shaking out the bits of Jamie - smacking the box for good measure to knock out all the stubbornly clinging fists - until he was nothing better than something his dad went and spilled on the floor. A fucking pile of Legos for people to dodge around less the sharp pieces of him prick the the soft padding beneath their feet.
"Everybody, shut up! Jamie, Jamie, bruv, breathe. Breathe. In and out like. Can you do that? Does it hurt?"
It felt like being underwater, it did; or like they were in an indoor pool. Sweat all dried until it was cold and clammy. Everything echoed, a public's worth of voices shouting to be heard over each other ("What did you hold me back for?!" "Me?! You were right there!") while the walls bounced everything back, and over the din came Colin's voice, both muffled and clear- "I heard something snap."
Dr. Sharon was going to be so disappointed with Jamie. Jamie was going to walk back into her office with the crumpled up portions of himself bundled in his arms, and she was going to frown, polite and quiet and judging while Jamie lined up all the pieces in front of her, trying to explain to her what he'd done wrong and begging her to show him how to make it better.
"Beard's got it from here. Him and the boys in security 'll figure it out. Now, how's our- is that blood?"
Because he was a coward, he'd serve the best parts of himself first. The chunk of him that hadn't meant to let any of it happen. The lump that understood how his presence on the pitch led to the team losing. The slice of him that had honestly, stupidly thought his Dad would be so caught up in his own team winning that Jamie's own garbage performance would go unnoticed (amateur thinking to go with amateur playing). The ration of him that hadn't been rational at all - had opened his mouth to argue when he knew better, didn't he, lad? Should know better by now. He hadn't been given the signal. Couldn't be trusted with his own words - had to wait for someone to tell him it was alright, otherwise look what he'd get?
"Tartt? Are you listening?"
He'd show Dr. Sharon the slab of him that wanted to do right by the team, and she'd tilt her head to the side and remark that the slab looked a bit spoiled now, didn't it?
Something brushes his shoulder, a touch so lacking in violence it doesn't register as real.
"Come on. Jamie. You need to let us get a look at you. We need to know where you're hurt."
He never fucking knows.
Something strong grips the back of his neck. There's nothing left of Jamie now; just bundles of raw nerve endings telling him run and hide and the dislocated parts of his body reporting back that they're not capable of either right now. His lungs aren't working right, and there's no running or hiding anymore - there's just smaller. Tugging close the pieces of himself - the broken tiles of himself - and sweeping them close in his arms where they're less likely to get shattered any further. There's retreating, dropping deep into the recess of his head, anything to spare himself from witnessing the ugly spectacle he's made.
The grip on his neck disregards what he wants. Cups the delicate space below his jaw between two hands. Examines him while Jamie flutters in his grasp like a moth avoiding the light.
"Jamie, this is serious. Tell me where it hurts, and be specific. We need to know if we need to get you to hospital."
Point to any piece of him, where his dad's gone and left him on the ground.
"Fuck it, he’s not answering. Somebody get the medics."
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ooooh if you’re still taking those prompt drabble requests, i would absolutely ADORE to see you tackle “they can’t hurt you any more” 🩷
(drabble, uh, not so much) from this prompt game.
Almost a year of early morning training had conditioned Roy that when his phone vibrated at 4 am, it was likely his alarm. But this morning, it wasn’t his alarm, no, someone was calling him. Dread filled his stomach. There was no good reason for anyone to call him this early. His brief hope that that was some terrible accident and Ruth was being called to work was when he saw the name on the caller ID. 
Jamie Tartt.
“Jamie?” Roy answered on the third try, his fingers missing the little green button the first two tries. 
There was no answer on the other line. Dread crawled up Roy’s spine when he heard rustling, then finally, Jamie’s voice reached his ears, distant and muffled. 
“Get the fuck out!”
Roy wasted no time pulling on trousers, and his boots, and the phone was on speaker phone in case there was more to hear. 
Roy wished there wasn’t more to hear or Jamie come on the line.
The unmistakable sounds of a fight reached through the phone louder than a siren. 
Fists connected with flesh. 
Pained grunts filled the speaker. 
Furniture splintered and broke. 
All the while, Roy prayed to hear Jamie’s voice again.
The phone connected with the Mercedes Bluetooth as Roy threw the car into drive, thankful for the empty streets as he sped through West London towards Jamie’s house.
“Jamie? Please, Jamie, say something,” Roy begged. 
Instead, Roy heard laughing, but it wasn’t Jamie’s laugh. It wasn’t the laugh that Roy’s had come to recognise in a group of rowdy footballers, the laugh that relaxed him when he’s worried, the laugh that made him smile even when he was in a shit mood. No, it was a laugh that sent shivers down Roy’s spine. A laugh that Roy wondered how many times meant danger for Jamie. 
Roy hung up and called 999 and prayed he wouldn’t be too late.
-
The first thing Roy heard when he entered Jamie’s house was deadly silence.
Roy expected screaming. He expected more sounds of a fight. He expected chaos. But what met him was an alarming quiet.
“Jamie?” he yelled, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “Jamie?”
The first thing Roy saw when he entered Jamie’s living area was destruction.
Roy expected chairs overturned. He expected broken tables. He expected chaos. But what met him was even worse than that.
“Jamie?” he yelled, again, frantically scanning the destroyed room. “Jamie?”
The first person Roy saw when he finally laid eyes on someone was James Tartt.
Roy expected Jamie to be waiting for him. He expected the men to still be fighting. He expected Jamie would need his help. But what met him was a seemingly unconscious James Tartt and a missing Jamie.
“Jamie?” he yelled again, stepping over debris to move throughout the room. “Jamie?”
“Roy?”
The voice was little more than a croak but at that moment Roy couldn’t think of a better sound. Roy skidded to his knees in front of Jamie, who was on his hands and knees on the other side of the couch. Roy guided him to sit with his back against the glass walls that led to the garden, knowing Jamie would feel safer if he could see the room, see everyone who came in, see his father still unconscious by the kitchen table. 
“It's okay, Jamie. He can't hurt you.”
“I didn’t, I didn't, I didn’t mean to,” Jamie stuttered as he shook his head back and forth, not making eye contact with Roy, only staring at his father’s body. 
“Hey. I know, it’s okay,” Roy said, moving his body in between Jamie’s eyesight and James. 
Roy’s eyes ran over Jamie’s body, looking for wounds or injuries. The footballer was curled into himself, seemingly smaller than his frame. There was swelling and redness that Roy knew would bloom into bruises and cuts bright red against too-pale skin. Roy wondered at the damage hidden beneath Jamie’s clothes and feared the emotional damage hidden beneath the pliant personality. 
“Hello? Did someone call 999?” came a shout from the entryway. 
Roy had left the front door open, hoping help would arrive soon after he did. 
“Back here,” Roy stood and yelled. 
A man and a woman came into the room then, each carrying a large bag. They eyed Roy and Jamie but stopped at the unconscious man first. The male paramedic said something into his radio but Roy couldn't catch it. Roy held his breath as they knelt next to a prone James Tartt and checked for a pulse. Maybe Roy should have done that, but hadn’t been able to muster a care at the time when Jamie was potentially injured. Still, Roy exhaled with relief when they found one. James Tartt might not deserve to live in this world, but Roy didn’t want Jamie to have to deal with the pain of being the one to remove him from it. 
“Roy, Roy,” Jamie said quietly, hands desperately grabbing at Roy until he bent down and held Jamie’s hands in his own. 
“He can’t hurt you anymore. It’s okay, just close your eyes. I’m right here, I’m not leaving you.”
Jamie did as he was told, but Roy doubted he could do more than follow Roy’s orders right now. Still, Roy moved his body to block the view of the paramedics. 
“It's okay, you’re okay, it's gonna be okay,” Roy repeated, rubbing a thumb across Jamie’s fingers, careful of the raw and bleeding knuckles. 
“I didn’t, I didn't mean to,” Jamie 
A noise behind Roy startled him, as the paramedics moved the loaded gurney from the sitting room towards the door, towards the awaiting ambulance, towards a hospital.
“Fuck off,” James said behind him.
Jamie’s body trembled under Roy’s hands at his father’s voice. 
“This ain’t over, Jamie. Don’t forget where you fucking came from, don’t you fucking forget–”
“Get him the fuck out of here,” Roy turned and stood faster than he thought his knee could move him, almost knocking a chair over as he rose, not that it would have mattered in the mess. 
Roy didn’t turn back around until he watched the gurney roll through Jamie’s front door into the cold morning, James yelling the entire time. Before Roy can turn back to Jamie, the female paramedic stands in front of him.
“We should take a look at him,” she nods at Jamie. 
Roy turned to examine Jamie again himself. The cuts looked superficial, but Roy worried Jamie wasn’t simply in shock but had suffered a concussion. The erratic breathing could be from nerves, or it could be due to broken ribs. Could Jamie stand? Could he walk? All questions Roy needed answered before he would begin to think about Jamie being physically okay. 
“They’re just going to check you out, Jamie, make sure you don’t need to go to hospital.”
“No, no, hospital,” Jamie said, eyes wide and scared. He stood quickly and Roy thrust an arm to steady him. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”
“Mr. Tartt, we should really make sure you’re alright.”
“Roy,” Jamie pleaded, his fingers digging into Roy’s arm. 
“The police will want to speak with him when we’re done,” the paramedic warned.
She heard the threats from Jamie’s father, smelled the alcohol on his breath, cleaned the matching gashes on his bloody knuckles. 
“Thanks,” Roy said, wishing he could imbue just how much he meant it. “I’ll make sure he’s checked out.”
Whether by Ruth or someone at Richmond, Roy planned to make sure Jamie was checked out head to toe. The woman took one last look at Jamie before she pulled a couple ice packs and some butterfly bandages from her kit, leaving them on the table with a thanks from a grateful Roy. Roy guided Jamie to sit at one of the chairs at the kitchen table, grateful he wasn’t limping but nervous as to how unsteady he was on his feet. 
The antiseptic smell the woman left behind still lingered in the air when a police officer appeared in front of Roy.
“We just have a few questions for Mr. Tartt.”
“Is he under arrest?”
“No, we just need to ask him a few questions.”
“I don’t think he’s in the proper head space right now to answer any fucking questions. You heard his father, Jamie was just defending himself.”
“Maybe. But we just need–”
“The only need I give a shit about right now is what Jamie needs, and that’s not to talk to you. If you have any questions, you can contact Richmond’s legal counsel, Dana Heinen, if you need her number, fucking Google it. Now get the fuck out.”
Roy followed the reluctantly leaving officer to the front door, looking back at Jamie as he did. He needn’t worry about Jamie going anywhere. Roy was unsure the younger man even breathed the short time he was gone. 
“They’re gone,” Roy told Jamie, pulling his phone from his pocket to call Ruth. “It’s just us.”
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said, the dam finally broke open as tears fell freely from Jamie’s red rimmed eyes.
Roy quickly canceled the call, pulling another chair as close to Jamie as possible and placed his hands on Jamie’s knees. “Jamie you have nothing to be sorry for.” 
“I let him in, I, I forgave him. For what? I’m so fucking stupid, Roy, why the fuck would I ever think he could change?”
Roy pulled Jamie into a hug, careful of any injuries hidden by the naked eye and rubbed his back as he whispered to him, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
Jamie latched onto him like a life raft as he sobbed on Roy’s shoulder. 
“It’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore.”
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thirteenemeraldcats · 18 days
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Care to share with us what your no-longer-shortish wip is about???? 👀
FOR YOU? ALWAYS!
So I mentioned in this post that I had a short-ish WIP in my 'active development' pile that's angsty, Jamie-centric, and involves a cat. It's set in the nebulous time between Jamie rejoining the team at the end of 2x02 'Lavender' and the Dubai Air protest in 2x03 'Do the Right-est Thing', so Jamie's very much on the outside looking in.
Originally, it was only focused on Jamie having crushing feelings of social isolation, itchy feelings of touch starvation, and a cat. Now it's merged with another WIP from the 'extended mountainous pile' and given Jamie crushing feelings of social isolation, itchy feelings of touch starvation, a poor sense of self worth, terrible self-preservation instincts. And appendicitis. And a cat. (And Dani!)
(Even more characters just keep showing up too. I didn't invite them. They're just. Here.)
So now I'm smashing two different outlines together with all the single-minded enthusiasm of child convinced they've got the right jigsaw pieces. (They do not.) And while this isn't going to be long, it is no longer the short-ish length that I LITERALLY BEGGED IT TO STAY AT.
I LOVE the angst potential of the early-season-2-time-period and I would be remiss to not shout out our beloved @jamietarttsnorthernattitude who already covered it beautifully in 'i'm lost, but i'm hopeful, baby' and is DOING IT AGAIN RIGHT NOW!! (I'm very very excited 🥳)
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