#Richard “pop pop” Isaac

[cantsayidont]

Three decades of "Fools": Aretha Franklin was the first to record the song "Runnin' Out of Fools" back in 1964, but the subsequent versions — SecondHandSongs lists ten, including one by Isaac Hayes from his 1970 album ...TO BE CONTINUED and a 2002 version by Neko Case, on BLACKLISTED — can't be considered covers. The song was written by Richard Ahlert and Eddie Snyder (credited as Kay Rogers) in an era of pop music when most songs were by professional songwriters, not the singer-songwriters modern fans seem to consider the only legitimate musicians.

If you look closely at the track list on the Aretha Franklin cover, you'll spot another: "Walk On By," a 1963 Burt Bacharach/Hal David song written for and originally performed by Dionne Warwick for her 1964 album MAKE WAY FOR DIONNE WARWICK (nine of whose 12 tracks are Bacharach/David songs). It too has been recorded numerous times by different artists, but the Warwick and Franklin versions are utterly overshadowed by the 1969 Isaac Hayes version from HOT BUTTERED SOUL, a 12-minute epic whose sweeping cinematic orchestration and hair-raising, much-sampled Harold Beane fuzz guitar have made it the standard against which all others are measured.

[hoedamn-eron]

oscar isaac characters with an s/o who subtly paints the furniture

Saw this on Insta and thought it was really cute so have some blurbs 😊

If there is any I have missed that you would like to see, let me know (but bear in mind I have not seen all of Oscar's performances so may turn some down!)

Steven Grant

Once he saw it, he was confused as to where it came from, because he doesn't remember it being there before

But then he catches you painting another flower on the skirting board one slow Sunday afternoon

Thinks it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen

It brings a bit of brightness into the flat

When he approaches you about it you’re immediately apologising since you actually only spend half your time at the flat

“Don’t be silly, I want to know if I can join you?”

Marc Spector

Noticed at the same time as Steven

Was also confused because he couldn't remember if it was there before or not

Feels like he's losing the plot a little because more small paintings keep popping up but he isn't sure where they're coming from

Finally notices it's you when you've left your paints out on the coffee table one afternoon when you've had to rush to work

And it all just clicks in his mind

Goes out and buys you all the paint you want because he wants all your artwork on the walls

Jake Lockley

Honestly, he spotted you the first time you did it, like immediately

Loves that you do it, thinks it's cute

But he also thinks it hilarious to add onto your artwork and not tell you

So much so that you think you're losing the plot, because "you do not remember painting a duck with those flowers?"

He plays ignorant, obviously

But you catch him one day painting and wordlessly join him

Now it's become a weekly thing you do together

Llewyn Davis

Poor baby doesn't have furniture

But he crashes as yours quite a bit and he's noticed the small pieces dotted around your apartment

He likes them, he thinks they're cute

He was out auditioning one night when he noticed his guitar, there was a bunch of daisies painted on the back

His guitar is his pride and joy, and if it were anyone else he'd be fuming

But he's not

He feels warm, like a piece of you is with him wherever he goes

Now every gig he does, he comes to you, and asks you to do another painting, "for luck"

Blue Jones

This one is a bit risky

Because there isn't an awful lot of recreation in the asylum, so you bribed some orderlies to get you some paint

And you got a total of three colours, but that's fine, you can make it work

Brings a bit of brightness to the asylum, since everything is grey

Blue is pissed and wants to know who is doing them

You, somehow, manage to break into Blue's office and - essentially - throw up a middle finger at him, and do a bunch of paintings around his office, in really obvious places

He catches you in the act since he comes back from lunch early

You're fucked

He has you on your hands and knees, scrubbing at each painting in his office, then he puts you in solitary for two weeks and has your paints disposed of

However, he notices a small painting of lavender under his desk that was missed in the clean up

He keeps it there

Nathan Bateman

You wouldn't dare, his coffee table alone costs more than your rent does in a year

Richard Alonso Muñoz

You already have your paintings up in the house so he loves whatever artwork you do

Honestly, I don't think you'd hide it from Richard, he probably told you to go nuts when you moved in

Takes photos of your work all the time to show his buddies at the prison

Some of the prisoners have asked if you can come in and do an art class for them, which you are happy to do on a weekend when you have more free time

Richard has put in the request but it hasn't been approved yet

Richard starts buying the seeds/bulbs for flowers you paint, to go in the front garden

Learns all about them in books, and how to take care of them

Now and then requests you to paint a flower he's seen in said books

Poe Dameron

Like Blue, gets confused on who is painting across the base, but obviously isn't pissed about it

Gets seriously confused when he finds one of the paintings in his personal room

He asks BB-8 but he hasn't a clue either

Until one day, BB-8 comes to Poe with a small little painting of Poe, of all things, on him

But BB-8 is so amused about it that he doesn't tell Poe

He catches you when you're painting something on his X-Wing

Scares the living daylights out of you when he calls you and asks what you're doing

You apologise, and tell him you'll take it off as soon as

But he tells you not to bother, because it's a - albeit crude because of the size - little portrait of you, and him, and BB-8

He refuses to wash it off and if it ever fades, instantly asks you to redo it

When you get married, he paints on wedding rings

Santiago Garcia

You're his roommate since you worked together in the forces

He had no idea you could paint

Strangely doesn't catch you for the longest time

He thinks it's Benny playing a trick on him, or Frankie

Grills them for the longest time until you finally admit it was you

You tell him it helps with the nightmares, that it calms your mind

After that, Santi doesn't bother you with it

When he sees you painting on his dining table leg, he makes you a coffee and just sits next to you and watches silently

Now every time you tell him you're going to paint, he comes and just sits, watching you

It's therapeutic for you both

[buckychristwrites]

Could This Be | Chap. One | j.t.

Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about..

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cussing. Fake Dating

A/N: Back again with my favorite idiot boi. I hope you guys enjoy :)

Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog

Oh, if only. 

If only you knew what was about to happen.

The music from inside the house made the ground vibrate as you walked up the front path. It was a toasty summer evening, the sun not quite out of the sky just yet. The perfect night for a party, in anyone’s opinion. Certainly in yours. The front porch was filled with people, standing around with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces. You pushed passed and let yourself inside. 

From where you stood, it seemed the whole house was filled with people. Not an inch of standing room to be seen. No familiar faces either. None that you could see, anyway The room was humid, but it wasn’t from the air outside. You squeezed through the crowd, making your way to the kitchen. Thankfully, there was more space in there. You grabbed a soda from the fridge, popping the top open and taking a large gulp. Somehow, the drink in your hand made you less anxious, taking another sip as you looked around the room. The back door was cracked open, calling your name. As you approached, you heard the sound of a familiar voice from the other side.

“Oh Keeley!” You called, holding out the last note of her name. Her head whipped in your direction, her hair flailing along with her. It was clear she was already a few drinks in, her hands flying above her head as she stumbled towards you.

“Hey, babe!” She shrieked. When she got close enough, she threw her arms around you. You instantly melted into her hug, as you always did. There was just something about Keeley Jones that made everyone around her feel better.

Behind her was Dani Rojas and Sam Obisanya, who excitedly waved at you. 

“The medic is here!” Sam announced happily. “Now we may resume all dangerous activities.” Dani giggled. As Keeley released you, you shook your head at him.

“It’s my night off, Obisanya,” You said, a slight warning in your tone. “If you hurt yourselves, I’ll be sending you to hospital in an ambulance where you can queue like everyone else.” It wasn’t true. You knew you’d still help them. And he knew it too, by the look he gave you. 

“You are too nice of a person to leave us without care,” Dani added, pointing at you with a smile so wide that his eyes turned into crescent moons. You bit the inside of your cheek to hold back a smile of your own. 

“She can’t help anyone once she gets a real drink in her and not just some soda,” Keeley declared before pushing you back towards the door. “Go on. It’s your night off. We’re having fun tonight.” 

“What if I wasn’t planning to get drunk tonight?” You asked her while fighting every urge to smile. It broke out anyway when she gave you a look of surprise.

“You can’t come to my party and just expect to not get shit faced!” She exclaimed. “Damn near blasphemy, that is!” Shaking your head, while still laughing, you made your way back inside the house. She called after you again, “Either come back with a proper drink or don’t come back!” Isaac, Richard, and Bumbercatch passed by you  when you entered, all greeting you excitedly before disappearing out the door. 

Surprisingly, the kitchen had pretty much been vacated by the time you had entered. Also surprising was the only presence left in the room.

“Jamie,” You said, sounding more taken aback than you had intended. He had been standing in the corner with his lower back leaning against the cabinet, staring at his phone while sipping on a beer. When you spoke, he jumped at the sound. It would’ve made you feel bad if it wasn’t so hilarious, but you tried to hide your amusement. Seeing that it was you, he calmed.

“You alright?” You asked. He shrugged.

“Just hidin’ is all,” He said. You approached the kitchen island, placing your hands on top of the marble. His candor shocked you. While you had never taken specific issue with Jamie, it would be a fat lie to say the two of you were friends. More like acquaintances. Or, probably more accurately, just coworkers. 

“Hiding from what?” You decided to ask. Curiosity was a fickle bitch, and you also knew it must’ve been really bothering him if he was talking to you over literally anyone else. He peaked over your shoulder at the back door, then over at the doorway that led to the living room, before turning back to you and sighing. 

“Keeley.”

Leaning your elbow on the counter, you set your chin in your palm and stared at him. It had been impossible to stop your eyes from widening.

“You’re hiding from Keeley, in her kitchen, at her house, at her party?”

He sighed again, exasperated, as he pushed himself away from the cupboard and approached the island. He was now directly across from you, his palms pressed against the countertop. 

“She woulda been upset if I didn’t show up, which I didn’t want.” Raising his beer to his mouth, he took another quick swig before lowering it back down. “But I’ve been tryin’ to keep me distance.” He set the bottle on top of the counter and began to twirl it. You watched him do this for a moment before speaking again.

“And why are you avoiding her?” 

“I’m just…” He scratched his head. You could see the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to think of the best way to explain. “She keeps tryna set me up with new girls. Tellin’ me I need to find a girlfriend. I think she feels bad because she’s with Roy and thinks I’m just a lonely loser.” You scoffed.

“Yes, Jamie. I’m sure everyone is sitting around thinking about how much of a loser you are, purely because you don’t have a girlfriend.” I let out a long drawn out breath as he gave you a blank stare, his lips pressed tightly together to hide a smile. “It’s so hard, being you, isn’t it?” He pointed at you.

“Don’t be smart,” He warned, sounding playful. Rolling your eyes, you stood up straight. 

“I think she’s just doing that because she loves you and wants you to be happy,” You explained, all seriousness now. He looked at the countertop as he considered this. “I think you should be flattered, honestly. She thinks so highly of you that she’s willing to let her friends date you? That’s a fucking compliment in my book.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s just weird, going on dates with her friends,” He said, sheepish. “The ones I’ve met are all so… superficial. They all just want to say they’re datin’ a footballer.” The bottle he was messing with fell to its side, the sound making the both of you jump. Once he had it upright again, you looked back up at him.

“You could just do what I do when she tries to set me up with her friends,” You said. His eyes snapped in your direction.

“She does it to you too?” He asked in a stunned voice. You nodded, slightly offended by his shock, but not commenting on it. He leaned further across the island. “What do you do?”

You shrugged.

“I lie.”

He looked completely flabbergasted at this, mouth agape. 

“Ain’t she one of your best mates?” He asked, his voice a whisper. The look on his face was priceless, with his wide eyes, and you wish you could’ve taken a photo. “And you just lie to her? Just like that?” You leaned forward and grabbed a cup from the pile before grabbing one of the bottles of alcohol.

“Not anything crazy,” You said casually as you poured. “I just tell her that I’m already seeing someone, and that I’m not interested in dating more than one person at a time.” Sliding the vodka back to the middle of the island, you grabbed a mixer. “I just have to change it up at times so that she doesn’t ask why she hasn’t met the person. Nothing crazy.” He watched you with an intense stare as you finished pouring your drink and took a sip.

“And you don’t feel bad about it at all?” He asked. 

“Sometimes,” You admit, staring at the ring of the cup so you didn’t have to look at him. “I just don’t want to go on any more blind dates. And she’s so hard to say no to, as you are aware.” He nodded, jabbing his finger in your direction.

“You get me.”

The back door burst open at that moment, and in walked Keeley. Her cheeks were bright pink, much like the top she was wearing, and when she spotted Jamie, her eyes widened. 

“I’ve been looking for you!” She exclaimed happily, making her way towards him. Jamie stood up straighter, his face tense. She looked over at you, a sway in her body when she turned. “Babes, would it be okay if I talked to Jamie alone?” From over her shoulder, Jamie shook his head violently, giving you any and every gesture that would suggest he did not want you to leave. You smiled sweetly at her.

“Of course, toots.” 

When she turned to face Jamie, her back now to you, his eyes sent a glare in your direction, complete betrayal riddled on his face. As you backed up towards the door, you sent him a sweet smile before turning and rushing out. 

Sitting in one of the chairs was Roy Kent with a beer in one hand. He sat as stiff as ever. Walking over with your drink, you sat down in the seat next to him.

“Hiya, ugly.”

He grunted in response as you took a sip from your drink. Sam, Isaac, Colin, Dani, Bumbercatch, and Richard were kicking the football around the giant backyard just beyond the patio where you and Roy were sat. You watched them, your eyes following the ball. They weren’t doing anything serious, just showing off some advanced moves that were hard to work into a game.

“Did you see Jamie while inside?” Roy asked, glancing at you. “Saw the prick once since gettin’ here, then he disappeared.” You didn’t take your eyes off the football talent show going on in front of you when you responded.

“He’s talking to Keeley in the kitchen,” You told him. He grunted again, nodding.

“Talkin’ about what?” 

You shrugged. “I didn’t stay to listen, although he did mention that she’s been trying to play matchmaker for him. So maybe about that.” Richard tripped Colin intentionally, the players all letting out an ensemble of laughter. Even Colin, from his place in the grass, was laughing along with them. You couldn’t hide your smile, even with Roy staring at the side of your head.

“Since when do you talk to Tartt?” He asked. The drink in your hand had been at your lips, but the sip was never taken. You looked over at him.

“We were in the kitchen together while I made a drink,” You explained, casually. “Got to talking. Not about anything serious though.”

“About what then?”

“You’re fucking nosey today, aren’t you?” You looked at him, finally breaking away from the game, with a scrunched up face. “I thought you liked Jamie now. What’s your deal?” He raised his hands defensively. 

“You’ve never talked to him before.” He let his hands drop again. The football was kicked in your direction, but you ignored it, giving your attention to Roy. “Except when he’s hurt on the pitch. Just weird, innit?” 

It was weird, now that he was pointing it out to you. You had been the primary paramedic for AFC Richmond for a few years at this point, having proceeded even Jamie’s time on the team. During your tenure, you had become close to Roy Kent. He was still just a player when you came around, meaning you saw him often for his many knee issues and injuries, and he had become a sort of big brother figure to you. 

When Jamie joined the team initially, he was easy to avoid due to the fact that he was a huge prick. And while you acknowledged his turn around when he rejoined after the Lust Conquers All stint, the opportunity simply never arose for the two of you to become closer. It wasn’t hate though. When he got injured and needed your help, he was always kind, the two of you occasionally even joking around when you wrapped his foot or iced his knee. But never more. It was simply a mutual respect for what the other did. 

“Oi!” Isaac yelling brought you back to reality. You looked over to see him pointing in your direction. “Throw us the ball!”

Following his finger, you saw him pointing towards the football, which was now conveniently parked next to the seat you inhabited. 

“Wouldn’t it have been faster for you to get it instead of waiting for us to stop talkin’?” Roy asked. The players all muttered amongst themselves, unsure of what to say.

“This ball?” You asked innocently, pointing at the black and red coloured ball. They all nodded. You stood, slowly approaching the ball and dribbling it towards the field. They all watched you closely. “You’ll have to get it from me first!”

Suddenly, you took off, kicking the ball around the yard as they began to chase you. You squealed as you ran, the alcohol making you feel lighter. Your football moves were nothing compared to theirs, but you were giving it your best go. A pair of arms wrapped around you, yanking you away from the runaway ball. The sound of joyful laughter gave away your kidnapper immediately.

“Looks like I got you!” Dani Rojas yelled proudly as he hoisted you over his shoulder and marched you around the yard. You laughed loudly, hitting your hands lightly against the small of his back. 

Life was lovely. You loved your job, and your coworkers, with all of your heart. Moments like these happened all too often. Blissful.

“ARE YOU FUCKING JOKIN’?”

Everything froze. Dani came to a halt, dropping you to your feet. All eyes were staring at the back door, where the voice had just easily yelled over the music and voices from the other side. It felt like everything had gone quiet. Instinct made you start moving, almost reaching the door when it opened rather quickly, and Jamie came out. His eyes were wide as he stared at you. If the good mood hadn’t already been ruined, the look on his face finished the job.

“What-” He approached so fast that your words evaporated off your tongue.

“I panicked,” He whispered so no one else could hear. This made your heart jump into your throat. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I fucked up.”

Before you had the time to even open your mouth, your name was being yelled from inside and then, Keeley Jones came storming out of the house. The jovial attitude she held before was gone, and was replaced with intense anger and confusion. In turn, you were filled with immense confusion as well. When she spoke, it could all be heard in her voice.

“You and Jamie are together and you didn’t fuckin’ tell me?”

[its-time-to-write]

I love your writing! Can I request a Jamie tartt x reader where the reader is a famous actor or musician and it’s like the team meeting them or the media finding out? Thank you!!

I loved this! Thanks for requesting!

you know, you’ll always know me

“Jamie Tartt has been spotted around Manchester with lead singer and songwriter from band Room 17,” Isaac reads aloud. He snaps the paper shut and looks at Jamie. “Oi, when did you have time to go to Manchester?”

Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, mate, two nights ago?”

There’s a clamor of disbelief from the team throughout the locker room. 

Colin’s voice cuts through the din. “Mate, that’s a four-hour drive. You drove eight hours to hookup with a famous singer?”

Jamie grins. “No.”

Isaac: “Elaborate.”

Jamie replies, “Nope,” popping the “p” sound at the end. 

The boys chorus, “Aye, c’mon man, what the fuck,” right as Ted and Beard walk in. 

“What’s all the hubbub?” Ted asks. “Usually that level of resignation is reserved for one of my many, specially-tailored puns.”

“Jamie hooked up with someone famous,” Sam answers. 

Beard looks at Jamie. “Saw the papers. You’re way out of her league.”

Jamie puts his hands up. “That’s not what she said Tuesday night.”

“So you did hook up with her!” 

“Look-” Jamie replies, “she said I ain’t allowed to talk about it in the locker room and I ain’t allowed to tell just anybody. She likes things private and I don’t blame her because you lot are a load of animals.”

Ted makes a mock offended face while Beard shrugs like yeah, that’s true.

Will looks up, thoughtful expression on his face. “Jamie, she said no locker room talk?”

Jamie says, “Yeah, why?”

“I mean, we could just, I dunno, go… somewhere else?”

“Will, you fucking genius,” Colin says, and Isaac gets up to go shake Will’s hand while saying, “Everyone, boot room, now!”

Less than a minute later, everyone is crowded into the boot room. Including Trent, Rebecca, and Higgins, who are never ones to miss a good story. Roy is the only one not present, with a short “fuck off!” at Ted’s extended invitation. 

They’re all huddled around Jamie, whispering quietly amongst themselves until Isaac holds up a hand. 

“Alright! Jamie’s going to tell us how he managed to pull the lead singer from Room 17, and then he’s going to apologize to,” Isaac checks a note on his phone and reads, “Dani, Sam, Richard, and Jan Maas because he knew they had a crush on her, and then to Colin because that’s his favorite band and you didn’t say shit to him.”

“Eh? That ain’t fair! We all had equal opportunity, I’m just the only one who took it,” Jamie replies indignantly. 

There’s a “WHAT,” in unison from at least half the team followed by more clamoring. 

“Oi, oi!” Jamie says. “Pipe down, and I’ll tell ya.

It was when we went to that club last month. I was gettin’ drinks for me and Dani, and there was this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar, scribbling somethin’ on a napkin. I was gonna introduce meself, but right as I went to say hey, she stood up and knocked both drinks out of me hand. One got on me and the other got on her napkin and I said ‘sorry about your napkin,’ and she said ‘nah it’s shit anyway. Sorry about your shirt,’ so I said, ‘it looks better on the floor.’ Guess she liked that, ‘cause that’s where it ended up.”

“That was a month ago, Jamie,” Sam interjects. “How did you end up in the papers this morning?”

Jamie grins and sticks out his tongue. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Isaac smacks the back of his head and Jamie yelps. “Ok, ok, I’ll tell ya!”

The team crowds closer. Rebecca is farther in the back, and she’s seemed strangely uninterested this whole time, typing on her phone. 

“So. Turns out, she’s fit and funny, and she starts telling me she writes her own songs. And she say it ain’t a big deal, just something she does for fun, and I say I play football and it is a big deal, but she already knew who I was. Anyway, didn’t figure out who she was till after I asked her on a proper date, and I guess she thought that was cute or some shit. We’ve been sneakin around ever since.” Here Jamie smiles angelically. “I am cute or some shit.”

Ted, Beard, and Trent nod in assent and just before the team can bombard Jamie with questions, his phone dings then rings. Rebecca finally looks up from her phone in the back as Jamie checks his. 

You’re calling him, so he makes a pipe down motion and answers.

“Hello Jamie Tartt,” you say. “What are you doing right now?”

“Hey babe!” he replies, team saying silent oohs and making kissy faces. “Not much, just with the lads. Did you see the papers?”

You laugh. “Yes, I saw the papers. I suppose it was only a matter of time before it got out, and I know I’m a little late to the party, but you can tell the team now.”

You can hear Jamie’s smile through the phone as he says, “Thanks babe. Y’know they’re like my family.”

Even though he can’t see you, you nod. “I do know. That’s why I’m not upset that you’re in the boot room right now and have already told them everything.”

Jamie is stunned into silence as the team whispers, “what did she say, what did she say?”

“You can put me on speaker,” you say.

Jamie does and then asks, “How the fuck did you know where I was and what I was doing? Are you psychic?”

Jamie looks up around the room and Rebecca of all people catches his eye and winks as you say, “Oh, well, Rebecca Welton and I have been close for ages. She started texted me the moment she heard you were going to the boot room. She’s known about you and me since the first night.”

The room erupts into “WHATs,” and “Holy shits,” while Jamie goes to speak again. 

“Babe,” he tries, but you can’t hear him above the noise. He pushes his way through the throng and out the boot room, Rebecca patting him on the shoulder as he goes past her. 

“Babe,” he says again, “you sure you ain’t mad?”

Now he can hear your smile through the phone. “Yes, I’m absolutely positive. You could have told them sooner. And I think it’s funny that you went to the boot room to talk about it. Rebecca says it smells worse than shit.”

Jamie sighs. “Good. Good, yeah. I’m glad.”

“Actually,” you continue, “this got me out of my writing slump. I’ve been writing like crazy every time you leave. Got half an album in the works already.”

“Fuckin mental.” Jamie shakes his head. He’s great at football, sure, but your musical talent is something else.

“Jamie?” you ask hesitantly. “I- you know I- I mean-”

He cuts you off mid sentence with, “I love you.”

You’re holding your phone with both hands now. “How did you know what I was going to say?”

Jamie shrugs, then remembers you can’t see it. “Just your voice, I guess. Didn’t want you to feel awkward about it. Know we haven’t said it yet, but I do. And now that it’s out, maybe you can come down to Richmond for a proper football game, meet the lads.“

“I’d like that,” you smile. “Oh shit- my food’s burning. I’ve gotta go. I love you!”

“Love you too,” he replies. He hands up, slides his phone back into his pocket, and turns to see the entire Richmond team crowded around the boot room door, faces pressed to the glass. Jamie rolls his eyes, flips them off, and walks away, laughing. You’re going to love them. 

[devouringyourson]

gotta hand it to star wars for repeatedly and seemingly accidentally casting super talented lesser known actors in roles just before they hit the big time like we got the obvious ones like oscar isaac, adam driver, pedro pascal etc etc but then keira knightley, richard amirtage and sally hawkins were all in the phantom menace and now you've got ebon moss bachrach and varada sethu popping up in andor and suddenly blowing up after

[darkmacadamien]

Whumptober 2023, No. 4: "You in there?"

“Bruv, I dare you to drink it,” Isaac says, pointing to the crystal decanter containing a mysterious purple liquid sitting on Coach Beard’s desk.

Jamie scoffs. “Fuck off, man. I ain’t got a clue what’s in there. What if it kills me?”

“Then we will remember you fondly, Jamie Tartt,” Dani proclaims.

Jamie pretends to think about it for a moment, then rolls his eyes. “Uh, nah. Still ain’t doing it.”

“Okay then, boy-o,” Colin interjects, “how about this— I double dare you to drink it.”

“Oooh,” the whole team choruses.

“You cannot turn down a double dare, my friend,” Sam says. Colin and Isaac nod in agreement, the fucking traitors.

“That ain’t fucking fair,” Jamie protests. “Why’re you picking on me, anyway? Richard’s the one with the iron stomach.”

“You were standing closest to me. Sorry, bruv,” Isaac apologizes, though he don’t sound very sorry.

“Philistines,” Jamie grumbles, but he picks up the fancy glass anyway. Unfortunately, Sam is correct: you can’t just not do a double dare. It’s practically one of the Ten Commandments, or something.

Jamie pops the cap on the bottle and gives the contents a cursory sniff. It smells cloyingly sweet, like those shitty perfume samples you get from magazines. “I think this might be alcohol,” Jamie says, running the bottle under his nose again. The scent is so strong it makes saliva well up in his mouth.

“All the more reason for you to drink it,” Jan Maas points out.

“Mate, you know I’m a lightweight. Roy will literally fucking kill me if I show up to training drunk.”

“Sorry,” Colin says, faux sympathetically, “but rules are rules.” He claps Jamie on the shoulder. “Drink up.”

Jamie sighs but concedes the point, and downs the shimmering purple liquid in one quick swallow. It tastes surprisingly light, like green tea, with hints of earthy spices, but it goes down like liquid fucking fire.

It’s worse than the highest-proof alcohol Jamie’s ever had, which had nearly made him vomit from one sip (there’s a reason he drinks vanilla vodka, for fuck’s sake).

Jamie chokes on the aftertaste, coughing and spluttering like he’s drowning. “Water,” he croaks, and a bottle is immediately thrust into his hands. Jamie guzzles it down, but it does nothing to soothe his burning throat.

A strange warmth begins emanating from his stomach where the liquid had settled like a ton of bricks. Jamie clutches at it, suddenly feeling faint.

“Something don’t feel right,” Jamie says.

Then he explodes into a large cloud of purple dust.

“Shit,” Isaac says grimly, when the dust settles. “I think we killed him.”

Where Jamie had once been standing, a figure lies crumpled on the ground.

“Jamie,” Dani cries, diving towards his friend and turning him over. When he catches sight of Jamie’s face, Dani jumps back like he’s been shocked. “Ay, Dios mío,” he shouts, crossing himself.

Colin puts his finger firmly on his nose, and says, “I am not explaining this to Roy,” because there, lying on the ground, is an unconscious child-size version of Jamie Tartt.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Isaac goes to find Ted, because Dani has devolved into hysterics and Ted is the least likely to start shouting and make things worse.

“Watch him,” Isaac orders Colin, pointing at child-Jamie, who’s still (blessedly) unconscious. Then he leaves Sam in charge. “Whatever you do, do not let Roy or Coach Beard into this room. If Roy starts threatening to punch dicks, call Keeley.”

Sam nods grimly. “I understand, Captain.”

“You’re a brave man,” Isaac tells him, and then he’s off.

It doesn’t take long to find Ted; he’s where he usually is at this hour, which means he’s riding around the pitch on the lawnmower.

“Coach! Coach, we have an emergency!” Isaac shouts, waving him down. Ted shifts the lawnmower into gear and rides over at an excruciatingly slow pace. Five minutes later, he’s pulling over in front of Isaac and killing the engine. “What’s up, buttercup?” he chirps.

“It’s Jamie,” Isaac says. “He drank the magic purple stuff on Beard’s desk and now he’s a kid.”

“Well,” Ted says, blinking slowly, “I must admit, I’m a little confused. Do you mean kid, as in…?”

“A child. Like, a youngster, or whatever they say in America. He can’t be any older than thirteen.”

“Oh, wow,” Ted says. “I think this might be a little above my paygrade. You said he drank something off of Coach’s desk, right? Sounds like we need to track him down and see what he has to say about all this.”

“Wait,” Isaac barks. “Won’t he be mad that we messed with his stuff?”

“I’d say it’s probably his fault for not putting a ‘No Touch’ sticker on it, wouldn’t you?”

Isaac shrugs. Fair enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“It’ll wear off in about twenty-four hours,” Beard tells the team, standing ominously over Jamie’s unconscious body.

“And there won’t be any weird side effects?” Isaac asks.

“Nope,” Beard says. “Once he switches back, he’ll be exactly the same as before.”

The team lets a collective sigh of relief.

“Why’d you even have something like that laying around, Coach?” Isaac asks.

“I didn’t,” Coach Beard says. “Jane must have snuck in and left it for me.” He sounds properly charmed by it, the bastard.

Out in the hallway, Roy passes by the dressing room and then promptly turns around once he realizes the entire team is gathered inside, still fully kitted out. “Oi, what’s this? Are we having a fucking party or some shit?”

The team moves in unison to hide Jamie’s unconscious body. “Nothing unusual is going on here, Coach,” Sam says, sounding like he’s reading directly from a script.

Roy shifts, widening his stance and squaring his shoulders, looking as if he’s rearing up for a fight. “I didn’t say I thought something unusual was going on,” he says evenly. “Out with it, then. What the fuck is going on here?”

When everyone remains stubbornly silent, Roy sighs, sounding put-upon. “Okay, let’s try this again— either someone speaks up, or I start punching dicks.”

The team parts like the Red Sea. Roy’s eyes immediately snap to Jamie’s unconscious figure. “Is that Tartt?” he asks. He walks over and pokes him with his foot.

Isaac clocks the exact moment Roy realizes that Jamie is about a foot shorter than he’s supposed to be.

“What in the ever-loving FUCK have you muppets—”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Roy reams the entire dressing room out for a good ten minutes. Not even Coach Beard and Lasso are spared, which in other circumstances might’ve been comical, but mostly it was just terrifying.

So terrifying, in fact, that no one notices a tiny Jamie Tartt come to consciousness and sneak out of the changing room.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Thirteen-year-old Jamie Tartt has no idea what to think when he wakes up in a strange dressing room with a much-older-than-he-remembers Roy Kent ripping into a team that he vaguely recognizes as AFC Richmond (although the kits look a little different than he remembers, too).

Jamie spares a thought to wonder why he’s lying on the ground, and then another to wonder how in the fuck he got here, because last time he checked, Richmond was hours away from Manchester.

The last thing Jamie remembers is his dad knocking him around the head, which might explain why he was unconscious, but past that, all semblance of sense goes right out the fucking window.

So, Jamie starts devising a plan to get the fuck out of there, ‘cause even though he was basically Roy Kent’s biggest fan, watching the man have a bitch-fit in person was much scarier than it was on TV.

And also, maybe, he’s just a little afraid that Roy Kent might start yelling at him, too. So, Jamie plays unconscious for a few moments longer, opening his eyes just a tick so it looks like they’re still closed, and scopes the room out, noting the nearest exit. Jamie maps out the quickest route to get the hell out of there, which doesn’t take long ‘cause Jamie happens to have a lot of practice escaping precarious situations.

Roy Kent has the team (and what looks like two coaches, what the fuck is that about?) cowering with their backs turned, so Jamie rolls over, shifts into a crouch, and creeps out of the room, real light on his feet. The moment he hits the hallway, Jamie sprints for the exit.

Well, he tries to, but a wave of dizziness sends him careening into the wall. His vision blacks about for a moment, and when Jamie comes to again, he’s half-sprawled on the floor.

Apparently, he’s in much worse shape than he thought.

Further down the hallway, the doors to the entrance fling open, and a tall blonde woman comes strutting in, heading straight towards Jamie. She hasn’t spotted him yet, but he’ll be impossible to miss once she looks up from her phone, so Jamie makes a dive for the nearest storage closet. There ain’t no way he’s making it past her without getting caught, and for some reason, she scares Jamie more than The Roy Kent, so it really ain’t worth risking it.

He clicks the door quietly behind himself, plunging the tiny room into darkness, and turns the lock. His jumping pulse thrums just below the surface of his skin. It’s much quieter in here; the only things that Jamie can hear are his own labored panting and the muted sound of the scary woman’s heels clicking past the storage closet and down the hallway.

Jamie presses his ear against the door and sighs in relief when the footsteps finally fade into silence. He leans back, slouching against a set of metal shelves.

Now that he has a moment to catch his fucking breath, Jamie does the exact opposite and starts panicking. He has no fucking clue how he’s going to get back to Manchester, but the first, most obvious step is to find a phone and call his mummy, ‘cause she always knows what to do, ‘cept Jamie doesn’t have a fucking phone on him, and after a cursory check of his pockets, he finds he don’t have any change on him, either, so a payphone is out, too.

The only person he knows in this entire building is Roy fucking Kent, but the thought of getting yelled at by him makes Jamie literally want to throw up, like. And Roy Kent had seemed pretty angry, and Roy Kent is the type of guy to yell at the sun if it shines too bright, so. Roy Kent is probably out, too, unless Jamie wants to send himself into early cardiac arrest, or whatever.

Jamie seems to be doing a pretty good job of inducing a heart attack all by himself, though, if the pain in his chest is anything to go by. It’s just— he can’t fucking breathe, and his head is on fucking fire, so Jamie reaches back to touch the crown of his head, where the pain is emanating, and his fingers come back wet. He can’t fucking see anything ‘cause the room is pitch black, so he sticks a finger in his mouth, and yeah. That’s the taste of iron, which means the sticky viscous liquid coating his fingers is blood. Jamie is bleeding.

Fuck.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It takes approximately five minutes after Roy stops yelling for everyone to realize that Jamie had somehow disappeared, and then another five minutes after that to organize a cohesive search party (mainly because Roy had started yelling again and it had taken Isaac, Colin, and Jan Mass to calm him down). They trample out of the room like a herd of elephants, each player heading to a different part of the complex to search. Ted hangs back for a second, long enough to catch his breath. Thinking about a tiny version of Jamie Tartt (hardly older than his own son) wandering around alone and confused makes his chest feel tight.

Hell, even thinking about adult-Jamie getting upset is enough to raise Ted’s pulse or make his breathing go all staccato-like.

Down the hallway, Ted can hear Roy and the rest of the team shouting for Jamie at the top of their lungs. Ted forces himself to relax; Jamie can’t have gotten far, and with twenty-some people looking for him, it’s unlikely that he’ll stay lost for long.

Then Ted notices that there’s blood on the floor, and his heart drops into his stomach.

It might not be Jamie’s blood, Ted rationalizes. They’d just wrapped up practice, after all, and scraped elbows and knees practically come with the territory. It could just as easily be Zoreaux’s, who had taken a nasty dive in the goal today. Or Sam’s, who could’ve re-opened the wound on his hand from when he’d helped out at his restaurant the other day. What Ted’s trying to say is: the blood could be literally anyone’s.

But somehow, Ted knows it Jamie’s. It sticks in his mind like caramel in your teeth when you eat a Snickers bar.

It’s not even that much, either. But Ted worries.

So, he follows the trail of blood out into the hallway, stepping around it carefully so it doesn’t get on his shoes, until it leaves him standing in front of a supply closet just a skip away from the locker room.

Not far, indeed.

Ted gently knocks on the door. “Jamie, kiddo? You in there?”

It’s silent for a long moment; long enough that Ted considers trying the handle, but then, he hears rustling behind the door.

“How th’fuck d’you know my name?” Jamie spits.

Ted sighs silently in relief. Target acquired. Now, for some damage control.

“Ouch,” Ted jokes. “You sound about as angry as a trampled-on copperhead, which I would know, because I’ve stepped on one before. Luckily for the both of us, I know a thing or two about venomous snakes. Now, I bet you’re real confused right now, but that question is going to need a lot of explaining and it might be easier if we have this little chat face-to-face, if you get my meaning.”

There’s the telltale snick of the lock disengaging, and then the door swings open, revealing Jamie, brandishing a broom like a weapon. A thin line of blood is trickling down the side of his neck, saturating the collar of his shirt.

God, but he looks so young, with lanky arms and legs that he hasn’t quite grown into. His face is still soft with baby fat, and his hair is longer than Ted’s ever seen it, falling over his forehead in dark waves.

“I only opened the door ‘cause I can’t understand you with that stupid American accent,” Jamie says. “Try anything funny and you’ll regret it, swear down.”

“Whoa there, buddy, I ain’t gonna hurt you. Why don’t we set that broom down, huh?” Ted suggests, holding his hands out placatingly.

Jamie doesn’t move— in fact, he tights his grip on the handle, staring at Ted distrustfully.

“Or not— hey, I can work with that. You ever see that movie Alice in Wonderland?”

Jamie’s face twists up in confusion. “Mate, what the fuck are you on about?”

“Nevermind,” Ted says, waving dismissively. “I don’t know why I started with that. Bad metaphor. Anyway, long story short, you used to be an adult, but then adult-you drank a magic potion that turned you back into a kid.”

“Oi,” Jamie barks. “M’not a fucking kid.”

“My mistake,” Ted concedes. “A distinguished young gentleman.”

Jamie looks at him with thinly veiled disgust, but at least he sets the broom down. “Are all Americans this fucking weird?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ted says. “Anyway, older-Jamie currently plays in the Premier League for AFC Richmond, and so that’s how I know your name.”

“AFC Richmond?” Jamie asks, miming a gagging noise. “Jesus, why? Did they get rid of Man City, or something?”

“Oh, no, Manchester City is still a thing,” Ted assures him. “You had your reasons for coming here instead, though. We can get into that later, but first I think we ought to get that bump on the back of your head looked at.”

“Nah, I’m good,” Jamie says. “Hey, uh, was that really Roy Kent in the changing room?”

There’s a curious inflection in Jamie’s voice when he says Roy’s name— like he normally adds the in front of it, like The Roy Kent. “Uh oh,” Ted says. “Looks like we’ve got ourselves a fanboy.”

“No,” Jamie bluffs, in the way that all teenage boys do when you accuse them of having a special interest. His cheeks flush immediately, though, giving him away. “Well, I mean, I’ll watch his matches if they come on the TV, but like. It’s football, you know? Of course, I’m gonna fucking watch it.”

When Ted fails to say anything, Jamie coughs awkwardly. “I mean, like, he’s a pretty good player. Objectively, or whatever. Like, that’s what I’ve heard other people say.”

“Mhmm,” Ted agrees, struggling to hide his grin.

Jamie sighs, giving up the façade altogether. “Actually— yeah, I’m kind of his biggest fan. I have a poster of ‘im and everything. Do you think he’d sign something for me?”

“Buddy,” Ted says, “if you come and see the doctor with me, I’ll get him to sign whatever you want.”

“You can do that?” Jamie asks. “Who are you, anyway?”

“Who, little old me? I’m the coach around these parts, but you—” Ted points to Jamie, “—can call me Ted.”

“Holy shit, you’re the gaffer?” Jamie says, disbelieving. “Man, football has changed.”

“Hm, yeah. So, what do you say? We got a deal?”

“Yeah, okay,” Jamie says, still looking a little shell-shocked.

“Awesome!” Ted shouts, pumping his fist. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Patching Jamie up doesn’t take long; he sits on the treatment table and follows the doctor’s instructions obediently. The cut doesn’t need stitches, luckily, but it still needs to be cleaned and bandaged. In the meantime, Ted unlocks his phone and shoots Roy a text:

Found Jamie. He’s fine, send everyone home

And then, remembering his deal with Jamie:

You mind stopping by the treatment room on your way out?

Roy likes the message but otherwise doesn’t respond.

He arrives a couple of minutes later, just as the doctor is putting the final touches on the bandages wrapped around Jamie’s head. “It’s a little bruised, so I’d recommend icing it when you get home,” the doctor tells Ted. “He’s also got a concussion, but you don’t need me to explain how that works, so I’m heading out. Have a good day, everyone. And for the record, this is so weird.” Then she packs up her supplies and leaves.

“What the fuck am I doing here?” Roy asks.

“Jamie wanted to ask you something,” Ted tells him, looking at Jamie entreatingly.

“Traitor,” Jamie hisses. “You said you’d ask him.”

“Don’t twist my words, young man,” Ted says firmly. “I said I’d make him do it if he told you no.”

“Oi, nobody is making me do anything,” Roy interrupts. “Hypothetically, though, what am I supposed to be doing?”

Ted continues to look at Jamie pointedly, who averts his gaze and scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor. He mumbles something, low and quiet.

“Fucking what?” Roy barks.

Jamie snaps his head up, glaring at Roy furiously. “I said, can I please have your autograph?”

“Well, fuck, why didn’t you just say so,” Roy says, whipping a pen out of his pocket. “What am I signing?”

Jamie’s face shifts from anger to surprise, like he didn’t think he’d get this far. “Uh, I don’t know. I ain’t go anything on me,” he says sheepishly.

“How about this?” Ted suggests, holding up an old receipt he’d dug out from one of his pockets. Roy shrugs and gestures for it, and then spreads it flat on his thigh so he can sign it. “How’d you hit your head, anyway? Run into a fucking wall or something?” Roy asks casually, uncapping the pen.

“Roughing about with me mates,” Jamie replies instantly, and Roy’s hand freezes. It’s eerie, Ted thinks, how practiced that response sounds. The worst part is, it’s actually a pretty decent excuse, and it probably would’ve worked on anyone else, but after two years with Jamie, Ted is pretty familiar with his nervous tics, and one of them is the way he runs a thumb along his eyebrow when he’s lying. Which he is currently doing, the offending appendage still picking absentmindedly at the thin hair along his brow.

And if Ted picked up on it, then Roy, who spends practically every hour of the day with Jamie, absolutely noticed it.

“Wanna try that again?” Roy asks evenly, finishing his signature.

“Eh?” Jamie asks.

“You fuck with your eyebrows when you’re lying,” Roy says. “You’re doing it right now, which means you just lied straight to my fucking face.”

Jamie snatches his hand away from his forehead like he’s been burned. “How the fuck do you know that?” he asks.

“I’m your best fucking friend, you muppet,” Roy bites back. “I know lots of things about you. For example, I know that your dad’s a fucking deadbeat, who doesn’t deserve you, and I also know he likes to knock you about, so I’m willing to bet everything that I own that he’s the reason you’re bleeding out the back of your head right now. Am I wrong?”

“You don’t know shit about me,” Jamie hisses. “I don’t know what adult-me told you, but he’s fucking lying. About all of it!”

“He didn’t have to tell me shit, because I saw it with my own two eyes,” Roy roars back. “That’s how I know it was your fucking dad, because you only fucking lie for him!”

“So what if it was? It doesn’t fucking matter, man! Why are you making such a big deal about it?” Jamie shouts back, and then immediately bursts into tears.

Roy sighs, like the sight of tears is enough to immediately drain the fight out of him. Ted finds it amazing, how quickly these two can wind each other up and then let it all go. “It does matter, Jamie, because you don’t deserve to be treated like that,” Roy says quietly, and then wraps Jamie up in a hug.

“This is fucking humiliating,” Jamie sobs into Roy’s shoulder. “You’re like, my hero. I’m not supposed to be crying, I had so many questions I wanted to ask, and—”

“Stop,” Roy commands. “Look, we’ll go get ice cream or something, and then you can ask all the stupid fucking questions you want.”

Jamie leans back, still sniffling. “Really?”

“Yes, you little prick,” Roy says fondly. If Ted were a romantic, he might call his tone fond. “Come on then, up you get,” he says and helps Jamie off the table.

“Lasso, you’re with us,” he barks when Ted fails to follow them down the hallway. Ted scurries to catch up.

“Ope, my bad. Looks like I misread the situation there, fellows. I thought this was just gonna be a Roy-and-Jamie event—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Yup.”

(And if the next day, after Jamie turns back, he hangs the signed receipt up in his locker, nobody says a word.)

(Also, nobody touches anything on Beard’s desk, magic potion or otherwise, ever again.)

[lunar-years]

Roy would just love taskmaster I know it. Keeley and Jamie try to arrange for him to be in an episode as a charity thing.

YES. all three of them would have the absolute best time with that. also imagine afc richmond getting together to watch their gaffer on taskmaster oh my god they'd have SO much fun. isaac is popping everyone popcorn richard is breaking out some of his more special wines....

[providing-leverage]

For the word search:

Leverage!

Friend/ship

Magic

Hi :) Three words for the three fics I've been jumping between wildly is perfect. I've never worked on more than one big project simultaneously before and while it's a bit confusing trying to keep the voices straight (Isaac narrates two of them, but is in wildly different places emotionally) but it's great for when I get stuck on one and can just move on.

Magic, from the Isaac crushing on Michael multichapter

“Anyone heard from Colin?” Isaac asks the group, not exactly worried but realizing that he’d never gotten a reply.  As everyone shakes their heads and looks around like Colin would magically pop out of the weights room, there’s footsteps in the hall. The man in question hurries in, head ducked low, already pulling his jacket off. “Sorry I’m late.” “Nah, you’re good.” Issac assures him, because by his watch Colin is in the clear by nearly forty seconds. Richard grumbles about biased treatment and Isaac knocks an elbow into the sitting player’s head. “Oh wow.”

Friendship, from the time loop fic

“I will man. Fuck off.” The hostility in his voice makes Isaac frown. He reaches for the phone, ready to do it himself if Colin won’t. “I said delete it right now.” When Colin tries to take the device back, Isaac gently pushes him back down onto the couch with a half chuckle. They’ve wrestled over many things over the course of their friendship—remotes, the last biscuit, car keys when Colin was way too drunk to drive but refused to admit it—and Isaac has never once lost. The idea of Colin winning the phone back is laughable.

And Leverage, from the third part of this trilogy, the first real crossover and inspiration for the whole thing. This is pretty much the only part that's written of it and takes place at the C/I/M double date with the Leverage OT3.

“You guys have a space station? I thought you said it was a consulting company.” “Leverage International is a multifaceted operation.” Hardison says proudly. “The satellite is key to our secure global communications network. With the updates I did while I was up there, we finally fixed the altitude problem. Michael was an important part of getting it launched, you know.” Isaac and Colin turn in unison to Michael, who is blushing. “It was nothing. Just some calculations about the fuel, and stuff like that. You would have figured it out eventually, Hardison.” “But you beat him to it.” Parker points out, Eliot nodding beside her.

[orbitalpirate]

Two part ask: have any of the team tried to see if they can fit in their locker and if they have, did they get stuck (in my head Bumbercatch is the only who fits and can get out after)

Here's how it would go: Moe goes into Jamie's locker and pops out, and scares him. Everyone laughs. it's a good time. Isaac says he can't believe Moe can fit in the locker. Richard and Colin both go to see if they can fit, they can and they can get out, Jamie says if his ass was flatter he'd be able to get in and out no problem earning a groan from the collective, Jan Maas scoffs I bet I could get in and out of there and everyone is like Jan wtf you are the tallest guy here you couldn't get halfway in there and Jan would be like it's not about size it's about skill, they say he's an idiot. Jan gets in. It feels like it shouldn't be possible, but he does it.

They have to cut the lockers open to get him out

[daydreamgoddess14]

Run

MASTERLIST

The team tries to stop Ted from leaving.

Rebecca couldn’t look up. Couldn’t bring herself to look around the locker room. She could feel Colin’s shoulders shaking beside her, and Van Damme’s noisy, snotty tears. Beard sat on her other side, still holding her hand. Jamie still hadn’t released Sam from his tight hug, his face buried in Sam’s neck. Isaac was on double duty - trying to console Will with one arm whilst holding Moe’s hand, no hands spare to wipe away his own tears. Keeley had made herself as small as possible and curled into Roy’s lap. Leslie and Trent had slumped together, looking around the room at the other members of the team in various states of despair and tears, comforting each other or seeking comfort from those who still had a spare shoulder to lean on. Her arm shook a little as Beard took another deep, shuddering breath to calm himself before giving up and letting out a sad little whimper. Still she stared at the floor, at the dirty socks, Jamie’s painted toenails following his afternoon with Phoebe. She did find one player at floor level, Dani had laid down and curled into a ball. She sighed sadly. She needed to pull herself together, for the team more than herself. She gripped Beard’s hand and gave it a squeeze, took her own deep and painful breath, and stood up, clearing her throat. Some of the team looked to her, others were still too lost in their own thoughts.

“We should… we need to… Fuck.” She wiped away the tears which had restarted as soon as she’d caught Jamie’s eye over Sam’s shoulder. “We need to regroup, I know this is sad.”

“It’s not sad, boss. It’s worse than that.” Richard mumbled. Rebecca’s heart nearly tore open again at hearing him call her ‘boss’.

“I know. I know it is.”

“Why did we let him go?” Van Damme wailed, Rebecca braced herself to be blamed.

“He wants to be with his boy, we need to respect that. We ain’t his kids.” Jamie grumbled, his voice still muffled by Sam.

“There’s got to be another way. A better way.” Sam countered.

“Well, if there is Sam, then I don’t know what it is.” Rebecca admitted. She’d thrown money at the situation - her private jet, the best solicitors to discuss shared custody. Nothing had worked. Beard knocked his knee against her leg, she looked down at him.

“There is one thing we didn’t try. But I didn’t want to suggest it around Ted.” Over a dozen voices seemed to speak at once-

“What is it?”

“Anything, we’ll do anything!”

“Tell us!”

“What do we do?”

Rebecca dropped back into her seat and turned to face him. “Tell me what to do?”

“We call Michelle and Henry. Show her… this.” He gestured around the room and then reached for his phone. “But be warned - he may never forgive us for this.”

“It’s worth the fucking risk, do it.” Roy said gruffly, his voice still strained with the effort of his crying. Beard selected the contact and waited for the call to connect.

“Coach, what can I do for you? This is a surprise.”

“Michelle, I’m gonna cut to the chase. Ted’s just left for the airport to go back to Kansas.”

“What? Since when? I had no idea, I promise we haven’t discussed this.”

“I know you haven’t. This is all his own stupid idea. But I need you to see what he’s leaving behind.” He turned the phone around and panned it across the room. No one bothered to hide their tears or distress, they clung to each other like they were each other’s lifeboat. He handed the phone to Rebecca, the tracks of her tears still evident.

“My god. Why does he think this is necessary?”

“He wants to be with Henry, is he there?” Rebecca’s voice cracked.

“He’s here, he’s here.” She handed the phone over. 4,336 miles away Henry’s face popped into view.

“I don’t need him to come here. I want to come there, I want to spend more time there. Can’t you stop him?”

“It’s too late sweet boy. He’s already left us.” Rebecca felt fresh tears fall.

“Stop him!” Henry bellowed, the team suddenly roused. “I am Lenry Hasso and I am telling y’all to move your-” his voice dropped to a whisper, “asses! Move, move, move! Old man Coach Beard can move faster than you dweebs!” He shouted again. Beard sprung up next to her, followed by Roy who nearly dropped Keeley. Jamie finally let Sam go, Van Damme roared. Within moments, the team was on their feet. Pulling on trainers, t-shirts. Rebecca thrust the phone at Beard and grabbed her bag from the floor to get to her own phone. She brought it to her ear and scrolled through her contacts.

“Bring the coach round, right now. Right now!” She shouted, “Right you lot, get outside now - we’re going to Gatwick!”

“Heathrow.” Trent offered.

“Heathrow! We’re going to Heathrow right fucking now! Thank fuck for that,” She turned to Trent, “it’s half hour closer!” It didn’t take long for Rebecca, Beard and Roy to corral the team onto the bus. In fact, it was the quickest they’d ever organised themselves. For once, there was no arguing over who sat where or pushing down the aisle. Beard had handed the phone over to Keeley while he got everyone in order. Once Will had done a headcount, he sat next to Rebecca and they both looked to the screen at Henry, who’d be joined by Michelle and Jake.

“Are you all there?” He asked, breathless.

“Yes Henry, we’re all here. We’re all going to stop him.”

“I’m going too - Beard, do not hang up this phone. I don’t care how much it costs, I’ll send you my allowance.”

“I’m not hanging up buddy.”

“And you will not, I’ll cover this phone bill.” Rebecca used the journey to calm herself down, there was nothing to do about looking like she’d been in a boxing ring - her eyes red and sore, hair and clothes disheveled, but she could at least try and calm her mind and try to figure out what the hell to say. As if reading her mind, Henry asked exactly that.

“Tell him the truth.” He said once Rebecca had admitted that she didn’t have a clue.

“What’s the truth? That the team is entirely dependent on him?” Henry scoffed,

“No silly, that you love him.” Rebecca nearly dropped the phone, but Beard was able to grab it from her.

“It might be obvious to astute types like us, H, but Rebecca’s not quite there yet.”

“Well according to Google, she’s got about 20 minutes to get there.” Henry said sternly.

“Are you pulling out Lenry Hasso again?” She asked.

“I might. Do you love my dad?” Rebecca thought briefly before nodding with absolute certainty.

“Yes Henry, yes I do. Is that ok?” he beamed at her through the screen, and behind her a huge cheer went up amongst the players.

The bus pulled up at the drop off point and Leslie gave some vague instructions to the driver about doing a loop of the airport. “Think Sandra Bullock in Speed.” He said sagely. The entire team huddled together,

“Are you sure we should all do this?” Will asked nervously, the team ribbing at him. Isaac looked around the group.

“Hands in, ‘Get Ted’ on six.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six - GET TED!” They all shouted before dispersing and heading to the terminal doors. In the midst of the group, Trent as the voice of close to sanity shouted directions.

“Gate 16, turn left.” They all ran as if their lives depended on it. Rebecca’s feet pounded the floor with each step, she wondered how she had enough air in her lungs, how she could be running in heels, but the team swept her along and kept her going, their odd peloton navigating the wide corridors of the airport. They raced through duty free and followed travelators until they reached security. Rebecca was pulled to the front and presented to a trio of security guards. She was about to channel her inner Keeley Fucking Jones when one of the guards said,

“Ain’t you Jamie Tartt?”

“And ain’t you Roy Kent?”

“Shit Derek - this is the Richmond team!”

“I know! ‘Ere, what you lot doin’?”

“We need to get through.”

“All of ya?” Rebecca drew herself up to full height,

“All of us. Is there a problem with that?” The security guard swiped his card and the double doors swung open, the team pushed through before they could be stopped again, and the running continued.

“Turn right at the bottom!” Trent called out, they moved as one, all leaning into the corner. “It’s the last gate at the end of this hallway.”

“Course it’s the last fucking gate.” Roy puffed. “Last push lads, let’s fucking goooo! Whistle, whistle, whistle!” With renewed energy, they upped their speed and ran at full pace, crowds dispersing in their path. Rebecca looked around quickly, trying to keep her balance. Somewhere behind her, Keeley’s voice rang out,

“We’re all here babe, all of us are still here.”

It was hard to ignore the noise, chaos and confusion brought on by an entire football team, their support staff and owner running through an airport. Ted heard the commotion long before he saw it with his own eyes, he wasn’t sure he could trust what he saw though until they were screaming his name.

“COACH!”

“Ted!”

“Lasso!” and over the speaker of Beard’s phone, still connected to Henry,

“Daaaaad!” The team surrounded him, barely leaving him space to turn on the spot.

“What in holy heck is goin’ on here?” Somehow, Rebecca found herself pushed to the front again. Over Ted’s head, Beard handed her his phone.

“Someone wanted to talk to you.” She said, short of breath.

“Dad! Don’t get on the plane!” Henry shouted. The team murmured in agreement, their voices rising until Ted could hardly hear Henry.

“Settle down, hush your butts boys.”

“Sorry Coach.” They all muttered.

“Henry, I need to come back to you.”

“No you don’t Dad, you need to stay there - the team needs you. Beardo needs you. Rebecca needs you.” He whirled around to look at Beard,

“Did you do this?” He accused.

“All I did was pick up the phone. These guys did the rest. And her.” He nodded his head towards Rebecca.

“Tell him, Rebecca, you gotta tell him!” Henry demanded.

“Tell me what?” Ted asked, his voice quiet. The murmurs of the team rose in volume again,

“Tell him, tell him.” They whispered, gently jostling Rebecca.

“Don’t go, Ted.” She begged, a prod in her back pushed her forward half a step into the little left of Ted’s personal space. “I love you, please don’t go.” She breathed, the chaos of the last 40 minute drive and dash through the airport had kept her going, but the tears were now threatening to fall.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked in disbelief.

“She didn’t know!” Half the team replied in singsong unison.

“I didn’t know.” She whispered with a watery smile. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. But I do, I love you. I love you, Ted.” The tears fell and her knees gave out, nearly sinking her to the floor, but her team held her up. Isaac on one elbow, Colin on the other. Ted nodded at both of them and they moved away to let him through. He took her into his arms.

“I love you too, boss.” He grinned, “I don’t suppose I can rescind my resignation?” He leaned in to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her waist. Her arms moved up and around his shoulders bringing him in as close as possible. Surrounded by whoops, cheers and tears, Ted smiled against Rebecca’s mouth.

“You’re not going anywhere, Coach Lasso.”

Sometime the next morning, late morning, Rebecca laid in bed and flipped through the newspaper. She had a cup of tea resting against her exposed collarbone, a sheet held up against her body. The first 10 pages contained photos of the airport dash, with a picture of Ted kissing her on the front page. She couldn’t help but go back to that page again. Next to her, a deep voice muttered from face down in the pillow,

“I know a picture lasts longer sweetheart, but I don’t think it matters when you got it on demand?” Ted rolled over to look at her, bare faced and smiling at him.

“I’m just thinking about how your next press conference is going to go.” She sniggered. Ted grabbed the paper and threw it over the side of the bed, pulling her closely to him, “Watch the tea!” She reached behind to put the cup on her nightstand while Ted kissed the red mark the hot cup had left on her chest.

“I don’t care, I’ll have the full support of the owner.” he mumbled against her skin.

“Yes you will.” She smirked, settling back into his arms.

[popculturebrain]

Sam Mendes & Armando Iannucci’s HBO Pilot ‘The Franchise’ Sets Cast Including Billy Magnussen, Jessica Hynes & Lolly Adefope 

The Franchise, a comedy pilot for HBO that takes a wry look at superhero moviemaking, has found its cast. The project from Sam Mendes and Armando Iannucci has cast Billy Magnussen, Jessica Hynes, Darren Goldstein, Lolly Adefope and Isaac Powell as series regulars and Daniel Brühl and Richard E.

Subscribe to the Pop Culture Brain Daily newsletter for more stories like this!

[singeratlarge]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Billie Joe Armstrong, Michael Bay, The Beatles’s 1967 single “Penny Lane,” Jim Brown, Narciso Casanovas, Arcangelo Corelli, musician Andrew Crowley, Buddy DeFranco, Vicente Fernández, Fred Frith, Rowdy Gaines, Taylor Hawkins, Hal Holbrook, Paris Hilton, Arthur Hunnicutt, Michael Jordan, José José,Isaac Kappy, Alicia Key’s 2004 single “If I Ain’t Got You,” Larry the Cable Guy, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Mickey McGill (The Dells), Loreena McKennitt, Lola Montez, Chanté Moore, Huey P. Newton, Jerry O’Connell, Banjo Paterson, Lou Diamond Phillips, Puccini’s 1904 opera MADAME BUTTERFLY, Denise Richards, Rene Russo, Ed Sheeran, Sivakarthikeyan, The Temptations 1969 CLOUD NINE album, Buck Trent, Margaret Truman, Henri Vieuxtemps, and the consummate vocalist and songwriter Gene Pitney. He brought depth to simple pop songs, crafting choice cuts for Rick Nelson, Roy Orbison, Bobby Vee, and (famously) “He’s a Rebel” for The Crystals. I compare Gene to Bryan Ferry as both have a powerful and unique vocal technique that seizes ownership of any song or style. I also compare Gene to Harry Nilsson because they were branded as songwriters but had hit records from songs they didn’t write. Gene’s popular arc in the USA ran from 1961-68, but he continued to draw international audiences, particularly for his Italian language records (I’m a big fan of “Lei Mei Espatta”). His career intersected with Marc Almond, Burt Bacharach, George Jones, The Rolling Stones, Phil Spector, and other notables, and he kept touring literally till the day he died in 2006. 

Please enjoy my cover of Gene’s “Every Breath I Take” (written by Goffin/King). https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1PZcTHaYjfA Another GP “deep cut” I recommend is “Somewhere in the Country,” a densely orchestrated goth-folk-pop track akin to early Bee Gees. Meanwhile, HB to GP—thank you for your amazing music!

#genepitney #bryanferry #thecrystals #marcalmond #ricknelson #royorbison #rebel #harrynilsson #burtbacharach #georgejones #rollingstones #philspector #bobbyvee #goffinking #johnnyjblair

[brookstonalmanac]

Birthdays 10.27

Beer Birthdays

Thomas Kerns (1965)

Richard Brewer-Hay (1974)

Damian Fagan (1972)

Meghan Storey

Five Favorite Birthdays

John Cleese; comedian, actor, writer (1939)

Fran Lebowitz; writer (1950)

Roy Lichtenstein; artist (1923)

Ivan Reitman; film director, actor (1946)

Dylan Thomas (1914)

Famous Birthdays

Enid Bagnold; English writer (1889)

Roberto Benigni; actor, film director (1952)

Jack Carson; actor (1910)

James Cook; explorer (1728)

Kenyon Cox; artist (1856)

Floyd Cramer; blues pianist (1933)

Ruby Dee; actor (1924)

Erasmus; humanist (1466)

Peter Firth; English actor (1953)

Lee Greenwood; country singer (1943)

Veronica Hart; porn actor (1956)

Kata Karkkainen; Finnish model (1968)

Ralph Kiner; Pittsburgh Pirates LF (1922)

Maxine Hong Kingston; writer (1940)

Lee Krasner; artist (1908)

Walt Kuhn; artist (1877)

Simon LeBon; English pop singer (1958)

Niccolo Paganini; violinist, composer (1782)

Sylvia Plath; poet, writer (1932)

Emily Post; etiquette writer (1862)

Theodore Roosevelt; 26th U.S. President (1858)

Harry Saltzman; film producer (1915)

Isaac Singer; inventor (1811)

Carrie Snodgress; actor (1946)

Charles Spencelayh; English artist (1865)

Dylan Thomas; Welsh writer (1914)

Scott Weiland; rock singer (1967)

Teresa Wright; actor (1918)

[mr-divabetic]

“Mr. Big Stuff is better to me now than 31 years ago,” said singer Jean Knight about her biggest hit. “All I have to do is sit at home and wait for the mailman.”

The New Orleans singer reached #2 on the Billboard charts in 1971 with"Mr. Big Stuff." and received a Grammy nomination. But a decade before her success, Jean Knight cut her first demo recording in 1965, a cover of Jackie Wilson’s "Stop Doggin’ Me Around." One of her biggest musical influences was Etta James. “The first time she heard "All I Can Do Is Cry," she said in an interview on YouTube, "The first time I heard that song, I wanted to be like her."

Jean Knight recorded a series of singles without success. When her career stalled, she left the music industry and worked at a bakery. Songwriter Ralph Williams connected Jean Knight to record producer Wardell Quezergue a short time later. Her recording sessions with Wardell Quezergue yielded "Mr Big Stuff," which turned around her fortunes. Reflecting on the recording session, Jean Knight said she liked “Mr. Big Stuff” lyrics but not the melody. She felt the melody didn't match the tone and emotion of the song’s subject. At some point, the producers let Jean sing it her way. She recorded her infamous version of the song in one take. Stax Records bought the rights and released the record, which peaked at no. 1 on the Billboard R&B chart and no. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart. 

“Mr. Big Stuff” topped the US R&B chart and crossed over into the main pop chart, reaching No. 2. The Bee Gees' hit “ How Can You Mend a Broken Heart” kept her from the top spot. Her popularity soared, and she performed her hit on TV Shows like Soul Train and received  Best Female R&B Vocal Performance nominations at the 1972 Grammy Awards.

After “Mr. Big Stuff,” Jean Knight recorded a few modest hits, including “You Think You’re Hot Stuff” and “Carry On,” but disagreements with her producers at Stax led to her being dropped from the label the following year, 

Jean Knight said, "I'm the type of person that I never get too big for the people that I have been knowing,” explaining why she didn’t get caught in the trappings of fame.  "My friends from when I was much younger are still my friends today."

In the 80s,  she joined the local oldies circuits, where producer Isaac Bolden spotted her. He signed her to his label, Soulin. The two produced the song "You Got the Papers, but I Got the Man." It was a novelty answer song to Richard Dimples Fields’s hit, "She's Got Papers On Me.”  

In the 80s, she joined the local oldies circuits, where producer Isaac Bolden spotted her. He signed her to his label, Soulin. The two produced the song "You Got The Papers, But I Got The Man." It was a novelty answer song to Richard Dimples Fields’s hit, "She's Got Papers On Me.”

"You Got The Papers, But I Got The Man" has one of the best sassy monologues ever recorded! Jean Knight's defiant mistress tells off her lover's wife, "What you need, girl, is a complete overhaul, your house, your body, your face and all!" It could be straight out of a season finale of The Real Housewives franchise and requires you to fasten your seatbelt before listening.

After reading the wife from A to Z, she sweetly expresses her undying love for her man. It reminds me of Shirley Brown's "Woman To Woman" song that my friend, DJ Downtown Donna, used to spin at the classic dive bar Pendulum on Castro Street in San Francisco.

[fallonmaree]

BLACK FILM -WATTSTAX

Wattstax is a powerful documentary film that captures the essence of the 1972 Wattstax music festival, held at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. The film, directed by Mel Stuart, showcases the vibrant and influential music of the African American community during a time of social and political change.

Wattstax not only features electrifying performances by legendary artists such as Isaac Hayes, The Staple Singers, and Rufus Thomas but also delves into the experiences and perspectives of the concertgoers themselves. Through interviews and footage of the audience, the film provides a glimpse into the collective consciousness of the Black community in the aftermath of the Watts riots in 1965.

One of the most striking aspects of Wattstax is its ability to capture the raw emotions and resilience of the Black community. The film highlights the cultural significance of music as a form of expression and empowerment, showcasing how artists and their music served as a voice for 

the community's struggles, hopes, and aspirations. While the music landscape has evolved since the time of Wattstax, we still see elements of soul, funk, and gospel influencing contemporary music. Artists today continue to draw inspiration from the rich musical heritage of the past, infusing it with modern sounds and styles.However, it's important to note that music is ever-changing, and new genres and subgenres emerge over time. Today, we have a diverse range of musical styles, from pop and hip-hop to electronic and alternative. Each genre has its own unique characteristics and appeals to different audiences.While the specific sound and themes of the music in Wattstax may differ from the music of today, the spirit of artistic expression, cultural identity, and the power of music to connect and inspire remain constant. Music continues to evolve and adapt to the ever-changing world, reflecting the experiences and emotions of the artists and audiences of each era. In terms of themes and messages, contemporary music reflects the experiences and perspectives of artists in the present day. While some artists continue to address social and political issues, others focus on personal experiences, love, and self-expression. Music today is a reflection of the diverse voices and stories of artists from various backgrounds.

In addition to the captivating performances, Wattstax also incorporates thought-provoking speeches and commentary from influential figures such as Jesse Jackson and Richard Pryor. These moments provide a deeper context for the social and political climate of the time, addressing issues of racial inequality, police brutality, and the ongoing fight for civil rights.

Wattstax is not just a concert film; it is a powerful cultural document that captures a specific moment in history. It serves as a testament to the resilience and strength of the Black community, showcasing their ability to come together in celebration and solidarity despite the challenges they faced.

Overall, Wattstax is a must-watch for anyone interested in the intersection of music, culture, and social justice. It offers a unique and immersive experience that transports viewers to a pivotal moment in American history. Whether you're a fan of soul music or simply interested in learning more about the Black experience during this time, Wattstax is a film that will leave a lasting impact.

I rate this movie an 7.5/10

[whatilistenedtoatwork]

From September 11th to September 14th, 2023

11-09-23

STEEL PULSE “Tribute To The Martyrs”; DENIM “Denim On Ice”; SPEECH DEBELLE “Freedom Of Speech”; THE FLAMING LIPS “Yoshimi Battles The Pink Robots”; REUBEN WILSON “The Sweet Life”; BLOWZABELLA “In Colour”; DESTINY’S CHILD “Survivor”; RICHARD THOMPSON “Small Town Romance”; ALESTORM “Captain Morgan’s Revenge”;  GRANT GREEN “Alive!”; ISAAC HAYES “Hot Buttered Soul”; THE RUTLES “Archaeology”; JOHNNY OTIS “The Johnny Otis Show”; CARL MANN “Like Mann”; MOVING HEARTS “Moving Hearts”

12-09-23

MORY KANTE “Akwaba Beach”; BAABA MAAL “Baayo”; THE DESCENDENTS “I Don’t Want To Grow Up”; GRANT GREEN “Oleo”; G.I.S.M. “Detestation”; ZION TRAIN “Original Sounds Of The Zion”; THE NATIONAL “Trouble Will Find Me”; EL PERRO DEL MAR “Love Is Not Pop”; DAFT PUNK “Homework”; CROWDED HOUSE “Together Alone”; SIA “1000 Forms Of Fear”; THE FLAMING LIPS “In A Priest Driven Ambulance”

13-09-23

JAN & DEAN “The Jan & Dean Sound”; DINOSAUR JR. “Farm”; BEYONCE “Dangerously In Love”; THE ARROGANT SONS OF BITCHES “Three Cheers For Disappointment”; GREGORY ISAACS “Mr. Isaacs”; DICK DALE & HIS DEL-TONES “Surfer’s Choice”; BRIAN McNEIL “The Busker & The Devil’s Only Daughter”; GRANT GREEN “Remembering”; COURTNEY PINE “The Eyes Of Creation”; DAVE BAILEY QUINTET “Reaching Out”; SUGARHILL GANG “8th Wonder”; SPARKS “Kimono My House”; COUNT BASIE “Basie On The Beatles”

14-09-23 THE BEAUTIFUL SOUTH “0898”; WILLIE NELSON “Always On My Mind”; REUBEN WILSON “Love Bug”; THE PLANET SMASHERS “Life Of The Party”; THE KALIN TWINS “The Kalin Twins”; BUTTHOLE SURFERS “Weird Revolution”; MICHAEL KIWANUKA “Kiwanuka”; THE JESUS LIZARD “Liar”; CEE-LO GREEN “Cee-Lo Green And His Perfect Imperfections”; GRANT GREEN “Green Street”; DRAGONFORCE “Inhuman Rampage”; PETER TOSH “Mystic Man”; LCD SOUNDSYSTEM “LCD Soundsystem”; GUNHILD CARLING AND HER SWING BAND “That’s My Desire”; GNARLS BARKLEY “St. Elsewhere”; BATTLEFIELD BAND “On The Rise”