#It was his first time watching s3 and I think I like fucked him up a little
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S3 EP19 (Requiem For Methuselah) let me guess. Kirk is romancing.
Forthwards:
- beaming down together <3
- uh oh a time limit!
- Spock grabs McCoy’s arm to get him out of the way of the fire
- very drawable right here
- Kirk is not fucking around today
- wow. Just wow.
- A SHAKESPEARE FIRST FOLIO?!? This guy is fucking rich holy shit
- She’s just like me when I watch Star Trek
- I like that she wants to talk to Spock about science :))
- “What is loneliness?” “It is a thirst. It is a flower dying in a desert.” Wow
- “Thank you, Doctor. I will have a brandy.” “Do you think the two of us can handle a drunk Vulcan? Once alcohol hits that green blood—” They’re adorable
- fuck off fuck off fuck off (edit: this is probably about them immediately flirting with Rayna)
- Bottles of colourful liquid. You think one of them is ketchup?
- Does Kirk know how to play pool? Is she showing him for no reason? He seems to know what he’s doing…
- I love that Spock likes playing musical instruments
- His boyfriend is dancing with a woman RIGHT THERE. I wonder what a rewrite of this would be like with canonical queer Kirk in a relationship with Spock and McCoy and why he would choose to dance with her. Cause I think he should be able to just enjoy doing stuff like dancing and holding hands without it being romantic. AND THEN MCCOY WALKS INTO THAT OMG THE DRAMA
- Damn Kirk isn’t interested in Spock’s info dump about Brahms. Tragic.
- and they’re kissing
- The way Kirk just pushed her out of the way-
- YEAH SAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND SPOCK!!!
- Flint kinda wishes that the bot killed Kirk
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- Yeah it sucks to be home schooled
- This is becoming like Twilight but without the baseball and vampires
- This is a horrible power imbalance between Flint and Rayna
- And they’re kissing (Nichelle nichols futurama clip where she says "I had to kiss Shatner) (edit: here's the clip at 1:26)
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- WHY IS HE SHAKING HER LIKE THAT BRO WHAT THE FUCK
- Kirk’s ass damn why is Flint hiding the Ryetalyn
- “(Spock): Captain, I shall get the Ryetalyn.” “(Kirk): Why you?” “(Spock): There may be dangers within.” “(Kirk): Let’s find out.” “(Spock): Let me go alone captain.” “(McCoy): Why? Get to the point, Spock. If there is one.” “(Kirk): We’ll all go.” Kirk and McCoy ARE NOT about to let they’re boyfriend go into a dangerous area alone
- OMG SHES BALD! (She’s bald and she’s torturing people who have hair)
- “Her only flaw, she is not human.” THATS HER FLAW??? First off Spock is RIGHT THERE. Second I'd say the flaw is that she's being controlled by a awful man
- Wait what? this guy is DA VINCI?!? And still no bitches...
- “She is my handiwork, my property.” EW DISGUSTING KILL HIM
- HE JUST BLOOPED THE ENTERPRISE OUT OF EXISTENCE
- I’m giggling
- “Give me back my ship. Your secret is safe with us.” YOU’RE JUST GONNA LEAVE HER?
- “Because you knew I could bring her emotions alive.” Bleh
- Kirk gets absolutely beat the fuck up
- “No. Do not order me. No one can order me.” YES GET IT! YES
- “She’s human. Down to the last blood cell she’s human. Down to the last thought, hope, aspiration, emotion. She’s human. Her human spirit is free. You have no power of ownership! She’s free to do as she wishes.” Kirk’s so happy for her!
- “No man beats me.” “I don’t want to beat you. This is no test of power. Rayna belongs to herself, and she claims the human right of choice. To be, as she wills. To do as she wills. To think as she wills.”
- Okay but she shouldn’t have to choose between two men. There’s so many more out there in the galaxy
- OH NO DHES SEAD
- “What happened?” “She loved you, captain.” Spock just admitted Kirk’s drop dead gorgeous
- This is giving boyfriend vs. father vibes which I hate. I hate that this is how women are treated. As burdens to be thrown from one man to the next. This is reminding me of A Dolls House by Henrik Ibsen it's a pretty short play and the ending is phenomenal for the time
- Kirk is lonely :(
- “If only I could forget.” Spock spends several seconds staring at Kirk and contemplating until McCoy comes in
“Oh thank heavens, sleeping at last.” McCoy just wants Kirk to get a good nights rest
- yeah
- “You see, I feel sorrier for you I do for him…because you’ll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries. The broken rules, the desperate chances. The glorious failures, and the glorious victories. All of these things you’ll never know, simply because the word ‘love’ isn’t written into your book. Good night, Spock.” “Good night, Doctor.” WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT AND WHY HAVENT I SEEN AN EDIT TO THAT. Also now I REALLY wanna write a mcspirk fanfic based solely on THAT
- “I do wish he could forget her.” BOTH McCoy and Kirk wished for this and so Spock does something crazy for his loves omg omg I’m gonna throw up wtf
- there’s literally romantic music playing in the background as Spock leans down to mind meld and says “forget”
Well
Masterpost
Episode written by Jerome Bixby
#star trek#star trek tos#star trek the original series#spock#s'chn t'gai spock#tos spock#leonard bones mccoy#tos mccoy#tos bones#captain james kirk#james t kirk#tos kirk#Youtube
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S5 opener REAL
#byler#will byers#stranger things#every season besides s4-5 opens with non main characters#for el we got a flashback of the lab followed by her perspective in the scene directly after#and I think for Will we will see something similar#with us getting the flashback of him in castle byers in the UD#followed by him in the present in the scene after#but what exactly would warrant that memory being brought up in association with Will in the present?#mayhaps his connection to the mindflayer and the UD run deeper than we realize…#it’s likely not something he could just rid himself of in s2 and now he’s all good#he literally still feels a connection to everything he is feeling#that means he is still technically at risk of being the spy in some capacity#the massacre at Hawkins lab also was a guiding force for El discovering the ‘truth’ in s4#so it’s likely for Will this instance will operate in a way that re-contextualizes the events in the past up to now#like that time Will suggested they go to the hospital in s3 only for the flayed to be waiting for them#or how flayed Billy knew they were at the cabin…#all while Will was looking cryptic as hell in that scene watching over el#or the fact that he picked Billy in the first place the season after he focused on Will…#you know.. williams#I think the easiest way to introduce the castle Byers flashback is a dream honestly#specifically a dream within a dream#seeing that recent leak and Will looking like either he has a black or hasn’t slept in days#is giving very much ‘I am afraid to sleep bc I’m scared of what will happen’#I think dude is not exactly possessed in the sense that we already saw in s2 with like the particicles#but he’s still vulnerable#the door is still ajar…#no but fr this idea of opening a door in your mind was so blatant in st2 AND s3b of teen wolf#I think a big part of it will be guilting Will over the fact that Will has helped him before without Will telling the others#hence his weird vibe in s3… like he’s already successfully fucked with Will post s2 potentially with us being none the wiser aka here we go
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Btw shout out to s13 for giving wu character development like that, it did him good
#i wish we got to see the events afterwards bc I kinda wanna see wu kick butt#like his problem is that we always see him girlfailing like all the fucking time#pilots he jumps into the underworld to lose to sans undertale#s1 he has to go find his brother bc he managed to lose lloyd in like 1 day#also he gets eaten bc that’s what his weed told him to do#s2 he’s fine. he doesn’t do much I think?? he simps for his brother’s wife which is weird tho#s3 he’s on self sacrifice number 3 and gets hacked like a computer#s4 he is just not there for most of it#s5 he is girlfailing and just watching the consequences of his mistakes rob his dad’s grave#s6 he’s like the first one to die in a horror movie#s7 he is tormented by visions of him girlfailing and goes on his self sacrifice number 4 Jesus Christ wu this is actually concerning#that’s where the ninja get it from#s8 he baby and he’s girlbossing so much better than he has ever done and will ever do#s9 he girlbosses through his childhood and into adolescence good for him#s10 does he even do anything I genuinely forgot?#s11 man done fucked up again and he feels bad abt it for like the whole season#s12 he gets fucking damselled like L L L#s13 man has to character develop bc he girlfailed too much#the Island guess who needs saving. at least he wasn’t alone#Seabound he’s got a minor role again but he gets to hang out with Ray in this one and I’m happy for him#(haven’t finished crystalised but he says fuck the police and that is so girlboss of him actually 🤩)#got carried away in the tags oops#btw this is not wu hate I love him#he’s a girlfail and that’s okay#ninjago#Ninjago wu
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maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...
#when i was in middle school i used to use red and black pens + spit for blending to make it look like the backs of my hands were torn open#i can't believe it's almost 4am. i just spent 5 hours typing up an essay about MM's erik that i just fuckin privated bc i was embarrassed#AND I STILL NEVER SPELL HIS NAME RIGHT THE FIRST TIME AAAAAAAA#i was right but im going to save all my points for the fanfic im currently planning out and promptly NEVER GOING TO ACTUALLY WRITE#I say shoving my plans for my h2o s3 rewrite off the table#yes i skipped from s2 to s3 i had a BRILLIANT idea [season 3 h2o spoilers ahead be wary my mutuals who are still watching]#okay so you know how lewis goes to the american institute of marine bio in the middle of 3? since this is tied to my s2 rewrite fic i wante#to actually finally reasonably re-introduced dr denman to the story because i never liked that she just fucked off at the end of s1#despite WITNESSING the moon pool magic. so i made it so she runs into lewis while doing a presentation for the college and they have a chat#(because her JAW paper plays an important part in my s2 rewrite bc i imagine lewis is the kind of guy who SAYS he deleted every copy of#it... but ACTUALLY he secretly printed himself out a copy to study in private to compare to his own notes bc#[lewis voice] come *on* guys just THINK of the progress that he could make with this! [grabby hands in front of chest])#so yeah they have a chat and Linda kind of gives Lewis the opposite dilemma in s3 that Louise gives him in s1 about science and magic#since SHE knows about the moon pool and has been biding her time and she knows Lewis knows and Lewis is like ah... uh oh.#it will eventually tie into the idea it's not about forcing science and magic together or separating them#its abt respectfully and responsibly utilizing both to see their fullest potential. which lewis learned in s2 and Linda has... not.#BUT#later on she gets a call from 1 (one) ryan who is like 'hey so i heard u did environmental studies on mako for dr bennett a couple years ag#and i was wondering if you've seen anything weird there as im currently doing a-' and she's immediately like 'YOU SON OF A BITCH IM IN'#and he's like 'wha-' and she's like 'i have already booked my plane tickets we're going to have a great time we have lots to talk about :)'#and wheeee now they have someone who knows about mermaids on their team and it's the perfect way to bring lewis back to relevancy in s3 :D#it also gives me reason to have two bad bitches (linda and sophie) meet and get to know each other which is not a dynamic ive seen in#any of the H2O fics i've ever read so im very hyped to delve into how they'll play off each other#also charlotte is there so technically three bad bitches (only in my au Charlotte never lost her tail and is part of the gang she just move#because she felt like she needed to leave to really be able to find herself without being in her grandmother's shadow but she comes back bc#well... it's season 3 mako is sounding the fucking emergency alarms everyone is showing up sdkghkfjhg)#im also so so so hyped to show u guys who's coming back in the s2 rewrite because it ISNT denman and i think everyone thinks it will be :3c#(i said she when telling ppl to look forward to a familiar face... but can u blame me for getting hype she's one of my favorite characters!#i love u H2O#cruddy rambles
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Finished Digimon Tamers for the first time since childhood and it hit me like a truck. I am inconsolable. It was so good. It was like everything Adventures did right, but better and more in depth. This is the season that ruined me.
#I just love them so much#Like that's all I could keep saying to my bf afterwards while crying#I just love them#It was his first time watching s3 and I think I like fucked him up a little#Cus the amount of literal horror in this season#And the sheer intensity of adult themes#I would do an analytical piece but I don't think I could make it#I'd have rivers for eyes#But I love this series and I love this season in particular#I'm making my way through since I haven't watched since I was a kid#Starting s4 tomarrow prob#digimon#digimon tamers#Digimon season 3#text#textpost
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I got randomly recommended this video by YT and wrote a ginormous comment in response because I have no self control, apparently, so I thought I might as well also share my thoughts here in regard to whatever is going with THIS FUCKING SMILE
(under a cut to not clog y'alls dashboards)
(the first part of the comment here is a direct response to some of the ideas put forth in the video, it is very short so give it a quick watch for more context if you want)
Imo it's not necessary to look into overcomplicated theories that rely too much on off screen shenanigans to explain the smile, for how amusing the idea of them having swapped during the kiss is (like, the kind of stuff I won't want to be actually canon, but I'll be very happy to see explored in fan fics lol)
I think to fully explain that smile we have to take in consideration multiple factors:
This show is very purposeful in what it does and doesn't, well... show. That last shot is very long and I think the fact that Aziraphale's and Crowley's expressions in the aftermath of their disastrous break up is shown in such a manner tells us a LOT about the state of mind they might be at the start of S3, and the obstacles they'll have to face. Aziraphale doesn't immediately smile, rather he seems to look almost shell-shocked for most of the shot; it's clear (to me at least lol) that the quiet ride up the elevator is finally giving him some desperately needed time to fully digest everything that happened, because too much has happened in an extremely short amount of time, and we all know Aziraphale doesn't do well with speed lol.
But, for how much he can sometimes be a complete moron, he is smart, and all he needs are just those seconds of quiet to properly ponder on everything, on the choices made and the ramifications of said choices, and that's how we get to smile-- I'll delve into what I think Aziraphale is going through in his mind in more details later, because I also think it's necessary to focus a bit on Crowley's own expression, since the both of them are so intrinsically linked that the narrative cannot make sense without taking the both of them into account.
Crowley's expression is much more static and doesn't change the way Aziraphale's does; he looks profoundly tired in ways we've never seen him before. I don't think he's giving up on Aziraphale, and I fully believe the fact that he stood there and waited for Aziraphale to disappear in the elevator, the both of them sharing that last look, was a quiet message: He'll never give up on Aziraphale, he'll be there, waiting. But wait is all he can do for Aziraphale, now, because he can't follow where Aziraphale is going.
For how messy and full of heightened emotions the confession + kiss are, I think actually denying Aziraphale's request was a HUGE step forward for Crowley's character. He's never been able to deny Aziraphale, he always went back to him after every fight, and we all know how stupidly whipped for Aziraphale he is and how he'd empty the ocean with a spoon if Aziraphale asked him nicely-- But to actually put his foot down and say "no, I cannot do this for you" when asked to all but renounce the person he is now? Especially with how Aziraphale is all but begging him openly? That's a huge step, and something I think Crowley desperately needs to mature as a person (or, well, person-shaped being). We all love how Aziraphale has him wrapped around his little finger I'm sure, but we also all know that if they truly want to build a strong, healthy relationship they also both need to be able to keep their individuality and to put forth adequate boundaries about what they are willing to do for each other within reason.
Asking Crowley to come back to being an angel when he's made blatantly clear for six thousand bloody years how much he despises Heaven is not a 'within reason' request, innit?
So, yeah, for how heartbreaking the break-up was, in a sense Crowley needs it. They both do. They both need time apart to figure their own shit out, dismantle all those unhealthy habits they had to adopt in order to be with one another as safely as they possibly could while still 'employed', and then come back together with a clearer mind and a whole deal stronger than before, both as individuals and as a couple.
And I think how tired and downtrodden Crowley looks in that last shot is a precursor to this process, just as much as Aziraphale's smile is... So, let me get back to our favorite angel and what I personally think is going on with him.
I think to properly contextualize that smile we need to look at not just the happening of those infamous last fifteen minutes, but of S2 as a whole, and what Aziraphale does in it.
So, what is Aziraphale doing during S2?
At the start he seems to be more or less comfortably settled in his current life; he's as happy as ever doing what he's always done, enjoying humanity's creativity with his books and his music and his food and drinks, seemingly content to be puttering about in his bookshop (which is a stark contrast with Crowley's homelessness and his kinda adrift and depressed attitude). Of course then Jim!Gabriel throws a wrench right into that, but imo I think there was a lot more going on behind the facade of Aziraphale's well ingrained habits.
Sure, he still has all of his familiar comforts and his routine, but from the moment we see him interact with Crowley I saw a deep restlessness emerge in him: The panicked look he launches Crowley when Nina asks him about his 'naked man friend', the way he speaks with Crowley with all those 'our' he uses, the blatant way he keeps reaching over and touching Crowley-- To me that suggests that Aziraphale is clearly not as happy as he seems to be on a superficial glance. He clearly wants more with Crowley, wants to bring their relationship to the next step, but because the both of them are so deeply entrenched in their unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits and their inability to openly communicate it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale to just... You know. Take the first step, actually say something about it. So he just keeps throwing bait after bait in the water, hoping Crowley will bite and be the one taking the initiative as he's always done, finally allowing Aziraphale to accept said initiative, this time around.
Of course, we all see that Crowley doesn't take any first step, which is probably something deeply frustrating for Aziraphale at a subconscious level. That's how we get the ball; sure, on the face of it it was Aziraphale's way to make Nina and Maggie fall in love, but... Was it, really? Let's be real, for how entirely believable it is that Aziraphale makes up the lie about Nina and Maggie's love to cover for their miracle is, since we've seen him being anxious around other angels, I don't think for a second that had Aziraphale just stopped and spent three minutes thinking about it he wouldn't have found a way to convince Muriel that Nina and Maggie were, in fact, in love, especially with how 'green' Muriel is about humans.
I fully believe that Aziraphale is not properly thinking during S2, period. He's frustrated by his inability to bring his and Crowley's relationship to what he wants it to be, and that frustration and single-minded objective is utterly obfuscating his thought process. There are plenty of moments he seemed almost manic, imo, which I read as another sign about his 'impaired' (allow me the term) state of mind as of S2.
So, yes, the ball: On the face of it something to actually turn his lie to the Archangels into truth, but deeper down, perhaps almost unconsciously, I think Aziraphale sees the ball as a way to finally make him and Crowley happen. That fact that he's taking pointers about romance from human literature is blatant, and obviously he truly does believe the ball will be THE way to make love bloom.
If you stop and think about it, the ball scene is terrifying. These people are being manipulated to play the perfect background parts to make, what is in Aziraphale's mind, the height of romance atmosphere happen. The fact we get a juxtaposition with Nina's "what the F is going on, am I losing my mind???" rightful attitude underlines this. And I truly believe Aziraphale isn't exerting said manipulation with intent, but rather doing so subconsciously, because he's just so fixated on the idea of having finally the perfect set-up to have Crowley as he desires that he is influencing everything around him. After all, we all know they both have the tendency of making things happen the way they want simply by thinking that's how things are supposed to happen.
And again, he's so manic and giddy when he asks Crowley to dance, his ass is not LISTENING. He literally needed a brick thrown through a window to snap out of it.
So, in the present we have an Aziraphale who , in his own way, is trying to take the initiative, come out with plans. There is a moment that I think might have slipped under the radar of a lot of people but that's frightfully important about who Aziraphale is at this point in the story, and who he will need to become: "I have a plan," Aziraphale said to Crowley during the stare down with the demons outside of the bookshop after the ruined ball; Crowley didn't even seem to have registered that sentence at all, because his mind is already projected forward and going a mile a minute about what to do to keep both the humans and Aziraphale safe in this situation.
Crowley, who loves to swoop in and save Aziraphale, doing what he's always done to keep his angel safe, even to the detriment of their relationship with one another... And Aziraphale, who adores playing the part of the damsel in distress in turn, is actually telling Crowley that *he has a plan*.
That's not something to take lightly, methinks. That's very much just another sign that Aziraphale's individuality is struggling, trying to emerge through Aziraphale's anxiety and doubts and fears and deeply ingrained habits. Aziraphale's cognitive dissonance in regards to heaven, and his shaken faith in God are huge motivators of his actions, and in the grand scheme of things the scant few years he had away from under the oppressive thumb of heaven is nothing. It was barely any time at all in the face of the eternity of an immortal life spent under that oppression, and yet we are already seeing little glimpses of Aziraphale's rebellious side struggling to get fully free.
I think these little glimpses inform us at great lengths about the evolution Aziraphale's character will go through in S3, and greatly explains that strange smile right at the end; in my opinion that smile isn't the smile of someone who's trying to convince himself that he's ok, or realizing that Crowley loves him (he knew already, they both knew and have known for a long time, their inability to properly express those feelings was their downfall, but I don't think either of them has doubted even for a second when it comes to how much they love one another). In my opinion that smile is the smile of someone who is steeling himself for what he envisions in his future; equal parts old-sedated anxiety and yet determination to actually enact plans he's surely concocting in his brilliant little mind. That's the smile of someone who has just realized that not only they can, but that they need to do something, and you can damn well be sure they won't be sitting and twiddling their thumbs waiting to be saved, but they'll be the one saving themselves and everybody else along with 'em, this time.
Just as Crowley needs to actually spend some time define himself as himself, and not just in relation to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to spend some time shedding all those fears and doubts that are weighing him down, and emerge the other side someone much more self-assured and ready to do what he thinks is right without all the hesitations that have indirectly been strengthened by Crowley; in a way, by allowing Aziraphale an out with his 'temptations', Crowley had been feeding into those hesitations, and had been holding Aziraphale back from fully maturing, even if not done on purpose, obviously. Imo is very important for Aziraphale's character that he comes to realize that he doesn't need those excuses Crowley gifted him to keep doing what he thinks is right, that he actualizes his own morality properly, and enacts on it.
I don't have the faintest clue about what is going to happen in S3, but I do fully believe the above paragraph is what Aziraphale and Crowley's respective character arcs will focus on. And once they'll come back together they'll be the most power couple that has ever power coupl-ed, and the Metatron will have no clue about what is about to hit him >:)
#good omens#good omens 2#meta#I want Aziraphale to Fuck Shit Up in S3#you think I was joking with that comic I drew some time ago?#I am NOT!#LET AZIRAPHALE FUCK SHIT UP HE DESERVES IT
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Bullet Theory
Thesis: Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet during the Final Fifteen kiss. This bullet contains his memories. He tucked it under his tongue, then began to access the memories during the ride up the elevator.
Edit: debunked by God himself, in response to this post. As a reminder, please don’t send fan theories to NG.
Proof:
Glint in the mouth
Inspo credit to this post by @somehow-a-human
Yeah so we were already paying way too much attention to that very special four-letter word we thought Aziraphale was going to say, but it so happens that during that cut-off phoneme is the only time you can see this shiny object in his mouth. (catching this on the right frame was emotionally painful and I’m sending Gavin Finney my therapy bills (actually no I’m not I love you very much sir)).
So that’s the basis of this theory. Crowley passed Aziraphale a bullet that he then tucks under his tongue.
Add’l Evidence Post-Kiss
Aziraphale works his jaw after raising his fingers to his lips: [gif]
Then when the Metatron comes in, he turns his back on the Metatron and raises his hand. I originally thought he was wiping his eyes. Now I think he’s raising his hand to his mouth, maybe to spit out the bullet, maybe to make sure it’s secured under his tongue.
Credits Scene
Aziraphale has the craziest fucking look on his face through the credits, we can all agree. But towards the end, his eyes flicker back and forth, as if he is watching or reading something. Then he smiles. I hypothesize that he is still accessing his memories during this time, and getting the information he needs to [redacted].
Thematic Justification: The Bullet Catch
Aziraphale having a bullet in his mouth as part of a two-man act of deception is not a fresh concept by the time we get to The Final Fifteen.
Additionally, the use of surreptitious modes of communication, where messages are passed from person to person inaudabily, is introduced in this same magic trick.
NB1: I wish I could credit the person who I first saw point this out (relatively recently). It wasn’t even tagged as meta, I don’t think. But the gist was there’s some parallelism between “aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear” and the “pin the lips on the lips” move that Crowley pulls in the Final Fifteen. If I find it I will properly cite.
NB2: One hypothesis that has circulated around, I think creditable to @sendarya, is that Aziraphale mouths “trust me” to Crowley just before he gets on the elevator. This isn’t necessary to the Bullet Theory but it would be thematically consistent.
Small objects carry memories
Why a bullet? Well, it’s a small object that has meaningful significance between the pair of people involved, much like:
Beelzebub introduces us to the idea that a small object like a fly can be used as a storage container for memories. We also see that the object entering the body of the person is a viable way for the memories to be delivered.
(btw Jon Hamm if you’re reading this, you have very pretty eyes)
“I keep a derringer in a hollowed out book”
K, so it’s not like Crowley is just carrying a bullet loaded with Aziraphale’s memories around with him at all times, is it? (I mean, it could be, but probably not. I’ll just point you to this meta for my theories on why, if Crowley had anything that needed to be kept safe, he would keep it in the bookshop.)
We learn in S2E4 that Aziraphale keeps a gun in a hollowed out book somewhere in the shop. A gun wouldn’t be any good without bullets, right? This may not be the reason the derringer was left as a Chekhov’s Gun for S3, but it’s a possibility. If Crowley wasn’t already in possession of a bullet, he knew that he could find one in the shop. Even more likely, the exact bullet used in the 1941 magic trick is a precious keepsake being kept somewhere in the bookshop, and Crowley chose to use that exact bullet because of the memories already directly attached to the object.
Why Aziraphale even has memories to be returned to him
We know that Aziraphale could have had his mind wiped because Heaven has done it before. Certainly once. Probably twice. We know this because when Metatron is announcing that Gabriel, alongside having his memories erased, is being demoted to 38th class, Muriel pipes up and reminds us that they are 37th class:
So this wasn’t a “just Gabriel” thing. Mind-wiping is a routine form of personnel management in Heaven. There is NO reason for us to believe that it didn’t happen to Aziraphale. But in case you need a reason to believe it, here goes:
We know from our interactions with Jim that the person whose memories are missing (1) doesn’t necessarily know and (2) isn’t necessarily distressed by that fact, even if they do. Muriel also fits this “cheerful empty shell” archetype. You know who else does? Ding ding ding. The one and only A. Z. “wiggles with delight” Fell.
I can already hear your very valid counter-argument. This guy is actually terrified out of his mind on any given day that his romance with a demon will be discovered. Yes. Because he’s involved in a romance with a demon. The other two angels we’ve met don’t have this issue. Beyond that, though, these three characters share more in common with each other disposition-wise than any of them do with the other angels we’ve met (Uriel, Michael, Sandolphon, etc.).
We also know that Aziraphale has been [demoted] at some point from Cherub to Principality. This is book canon:
"Technically Aziraphale was a Principality, but people made jokes about that these days."
This has also been confirmed (insofar as Neil Gaiman ever confirms anything) by Word of God:
(marketing video screengrab clipped for brevity)
We don’t know for sure it was a demotion, but I think we have enough evidence to infer that with a high degree of confidence.
Anyways.
Summary: Aziraphale is a cheerful angel who was demoted and has a name that is not biblical canon. This evidence indicates that was probably mind-wiped. This is not the first time I’m proposing this. It won’t be the last.
How Crowley Did It
My meta on Continuity Errors gives the complete proof for why I believe that Crowley is able to stop time without Aziraphale knowing, and I propose in that meta that the kiss was a cover-up for the exertion of effort necessary to pull that off. I further proposed that during the pause, he retrieved something from the bookshop. At the time of writing, I didn’t know what. Now, I have an inkling that it was a bullet.
If you need a refresher on Clock Theory, here’s one. The idea is that the clock behind Aziraphale shifts by fifteen minutes from before the kiss to after the kiss. This is consistent with a theory that Crowley paused time (but the clock kept running) in order to retrieve the bullet, dump Aziraphale’s memories into it if he hadn’t already, and then return to transfer the bullet to Aziraphale.
Why Crowley Kept the Secret So Long
As with Continuity Errors, I am ending this meta with a very unsatisfactory “I don’t know.” The motivation for Crowley to keep Aziraphale’s memories from him until the very moment he’s about to leave must have been a strong one. I think it has something to do with why Crowley was so insistent on trying to get Aziraphale to run away with him, instead of dealing with whatever’s coming. But as with Continuity Errors, I suspect that the good omens meta hivemind (and the vast collection of people who are posting clues, you have no idea how important you are) will assemble yet more breadcrumbs that we can follow to some sort of hypothesis.
Until then,
iv
(here's my meta index if you would like to read more stuff like this)
#good omens meta#bullet theory#the final fifteen#crowley#aziraphale#good omens gabriel#good omens muriel#good omens#good omens 2#ineffable husbands#good omens theory#good omens speculation#good omens analysis#good omens clues
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simon's arc and growth in s3 was one of my favorite storylines and is one of the main reasons i like s3 so much.
in s1 we got to see the foundations of such a beautiful complex character - a boy who loves his family and those who have earned their way into his heart almost more than himself, loyal to a fault, vibrant and not afraid to make himself more of an outsider by standing by his ethos and personality.
and simon being his truest self taught the 2 most important ppl in his life their key lessons. sara now understands the gift of giving ppl second chances and wanting to hope they wont always fuck it all up. and wille learned everything from simon. how to love unashamedly. how to believe in yourself. how to look outside of yourself. how to speak your mind. how to forgive. how to live freely
idk i think there is something so missing in ppl who cant understand his character in s3 and maybe its a lack of life experience but knowing when you need to remove yourself from a situation that is destroying you and the ppl you love is important and real. he made himself so small to try and fit for willes life and that hurt them both, wille needed shining simon as much as simon did.
love is not always enough and simon was brave for recognizing that. for continuing to stand by issues and ideals that were deeply important to him. to recognize when his own actions were causing ppl harm. to continue to forgive and give ppl more chances despite being hurt but also knowing when he needs to put himself first
on my first watch of s3ep6 it something i couldnt stop thinking abt and i stand by it on a few rewatches, for someone so integral to everyone's personal growth bc he was that catalyst or lesson for them, he felt a bit forgotten. and i get there was a lot of loose ends to be tied up but im ngl he felt a little rushed/in limbo bc of it but i still think he had a full beautiful arc in s3. and the way ppl still damn him for every move makes me wish he had even more time to develop throughout esp s2 i wish everyone could see just how beautiful and complex simon is and how he is the base of everyone around him
#simon eriksson#he is my son and i will stand by him until i die#rambles at 2 am idek if this is fully coherent but oh well#was reading the song of achilles and it reminded me a bit too much of my love for yr at the beginning#he deserves just as much empathy and grace as every other character#he is not villain#young royals#young royals s3#young royals analysis#young royals character analysis
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it was about the coffee
edit 24/11: rip miracle blocker theory, my love
but possibly not the way we thought it was. this is going to sound so convoluted but bear with me here (and big thanks to the anon that precipitated this theory, and major apologies that writing this theory is only going to delay my answer to your ask even further💕)
a major plot-point for me in s2 was this bad boy:
which i think we can safely say is a very op power for demons to possess for it not to come up again later on in the show? it's almost like a parallel to the book of life on that front - which is mentioned in the bookshop in ep6, but we've all agreed is pretty much going to be a major chekhov's gun in s3, right? well, what about the miracle blocker?
why wouldn't shax think of getting one either from furfur or from beelzebub when storming the bookshop? well, could be that shax didn't think of it. true - but i do wonder if something iffy was in fact going on in ep5/ep6 showdown, right up into the Final Fifteen.
let's start here: aziraphale has got some reality-bending bullshit going on, which i think is possibly just naturally emanating from aziraphale himself (im not wholly convinced it's entirely in-character for him to purposefully fuck with people's heads and autonomy) and perhaps the dancing/outfits/emotions etc is just the image he wanted for the dance, and his magic (?) essentially made it happen, so much so that he was potentially taken in by it too... hence why he was so readily resistant to crowley's pleas to listen to him about the danger? idk, getting sidetracked.
but anyway, then the demons come, and we see the below where... randomly, aziraphale's miracles/magic doesn't work. and there's no given reason for it:
soon after this, aziraphale opens the portal; one thing on reflection? that portal opens damn fucking fast. sure, the peril is high, certainly higher than s1 when he had to pray and practically beg to speak to someone... but if the portal is more or less for metatron's direct use, and the metatron is so damn busy, being the voice of god... why would he be sat there waiting for a call?
s1, the time between aziraphale starting to pray/dial 9-1-heaven, and the portal opening (excluding where he shouts to shadwell that the shop is closed) is just over 31 seconds. s2, from "hello, is there anybody there" to portal opening is just over 5. a very short cut-down for a retired, traitorous angel, regardless of whether they're under attack (which, tbh, would be in heaven's interests, right? for aziraphale to get Got?). the explanation for that can only be, in my book, that metatron has been watching... and possibly has been since the first time the portal opened.
anyway, we then move on to metatron arriving at the bookshop, and offering aziraphale the coffee. others have reported a miracle chime, and tbh i too can hear at least a faint, high strong, that sounds out of place in the ambient sound of the scene. video below, where ive marked out where i can hear it:
we know that aziraphale doesn't drink coffee. tea, hot chocolate, wine... but he's never, as far as we've seen, canonically drunk coffee. he must have tried it at some point, crowley likes it/drinks it, so why wouldn't aziraphale have tried it at some point? well, i think he probably has, and didn't like it. i think he tried to change it, in front of the metatron, so he could take a sip and not be offensive. but... it doesn't work. aziraphale's reaction is awkward. and metatron's reaction is smug. i think metatron has a miracle blocker.
aziraphale is not stupid. i think he knows possibly from that moment, or very soon after, that metatron has been up to something. i think he knows that metatron might have eyes and ears everywhere. i think aziraphale has worked out that metatron is not in fact A Nice Old Man, and knows it right through until he gets in the lift (which im going to talk about more in the aforementioned anon ask). i don't think aziraphale has been overtly threatened, because the metatron has worked so hard in this scene to be non-threatening. but he has underestimated how smart aziraphale actually is.
making the offer to reform heaven appeals to aziraphale, there is no doubt on that. and aziraphale is desperate for crowley to be with him - not only on the layer of wanting to be together, or another layer of crowley deserving to have heaven make amends to him, or even the layer wanting to protect crowley under his status as supreme archangel... but because if aziraphale walks away, without crowley, crowley has nowhere safe to go. the bookshop has been compromised, and it is no longer safe. metatron with his almond syrup has Eyes and Ears everywhere. when crowley refuses, aziraphale has to get to heaven, and to metatron, before they get to him.
i do completely believe that aziraphale wants to help heaven, and possibly seek any way in which he can return it to what he thinks or believes was god's original purpose for it - to return or make it into the place that was always meant to stand for good and justice and love. but i also believe that now, more than ever, aziraphale teeters on the edge of giving heaven a chance - or being burnt to ashes, literally or figuratively. idk about you, but i have a gut feeling on what option he, in this moment, would be inclined to take.
#good omens#metatron spec#s3 narrative spec#sanctuary/bentley theory#feral domestic/final fifteen meta#s2 meta
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Conversation
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Reader
Warnings: spoilers for S1 and S2, miscommunication, (kind of) enemies to lovers, language, a few plot changes, mutual pining and one or two mentions of Jamie’s dad being a prick. Also I accidentally wrote something in this that is minorly similar to a scene in S3…but I wrote that bit AGES ago. Just signposting it as last time I didn’t someone got shitty with me
Notes: this is so much longer than I planned lmao so that explains why it took so long to post. Also not betad or spellchecked yet as it’s late here!
I don’t even know if I like this… I might delete this…
Title inspired by Conversation by Catfish and the Bottlemen
**
You’d been the player liaison officer at AFC Richmond for two years and for the most part, you loved your job. A lot of it involved what was referred to as “general life admin” for the players, as you sorted out everything from banks to home viewings to car collections to visas to schools for players with kids.
Most people would think looking out for a bunch of millionaire footballers would be a stressful job but you didn’t mind. The players had, for the most part, always been nice and you’d even started helping to show the new signings around, offering to recommend them restaurants or bars and you’d even become friendly with a few of them over the course of your time at the club.
Or at least until you encountered the clubs new loan signing. It had taken four weeks of his season long loan before you’d first spoken to him, and from the ten minutes he’d spent in your office, you’d gotten the same impression everyone did of him.
Jamie Tartt was undoubtedly the one of the biggest pricks you’d ever met .
Twenty minutes later than agreed, he’d sauntered in to your office, moaning about his teammates, discard the print offs of flats and houses you’d spent ages looking into for him, grabbed a card with the requested time and date of a collection of an Aston Martin you’d arranged for him without so much as a thank you, before asking if you could fix a modelling gig for him. With your arms folded across your chest, you’d firmly told him that was you were player liaison and not PR and that there was no way you’d be arranging his shirtless photoshoots or his latest perfume ad and he’d left with a comment about your job being “pointless” leaving your door wide open.
***
The next time you spoke to him was when he’d let a door swing in your face, as he stormed through the car park still furious after the loss to Crystal Palace. You held back from walking out as you could over hear him rant to the reporter from the Independent about…everything. An exclusive straight from the car park, Jamie Tartt was a journalists dream.
“Hey.” You caught up to him in the car park, “Talking to the press? Really?”
“Do I know you?” Jamie stared at you with a blank expression “Are you a fan? How did you get in here? You want a picture or something?”
“A fan? Of you? No. I work for the club. I’m the one that arranged your car, your flat, your VIP booth at the bar you’re off to. Most people say you’re welcome by the way.” You waved an arm in the direction of his sports car.
“Right.” Jamie continued to stare at you like you’d grown a second head before shrugging “Did you need something?”
Un-fucking-believable. In that moment, you’d never disliked him more.
You considered telling him how stupid it was to run his mouth off to the press, how much it would hurt his teammates, his manager, the fans to hear their star player dragging the club down but as you watched him chew his gum so casually, you realised he didn’t care and it was too late, and it was probably too late. Trent Crimm was already heading back to his car, statement no doubt being composed and ready for the morning papers but it was doubtful Jamie even registered anything other than himself and his massive ego. How could you possibly expect him to care about anyone else.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter. Don’t think you’d understand it. Have a nice night.” You turned on your heel and were safe inside your own car before you finished the sentence “Prick.”
***
Ever since your little argument in the car park, you’d made it your absolute resolution to keep your contact with him to the bare minimum until the end of his loan when he’d become whatever poor player liaison officer Man City had.
You managed this pretty effectively being that he’d decided not to train until you’d received a call from your boss late into the evening one night asking you to come by the training ground. Usually a call in the evening was one of the new players wants a dinner reservation and didn’t know where to book or occasionally ordering a cab when one of the players had forgotten what hotel they were staying in the night before a game.
You absolutely not been expecting it to be ‘please can you swing by Colins and get his spare car keys…’ Nonetheless you’d agreed.
The scene unfolding before you when arrived the training ground was like something out of a fever dream. The players celebrating on the training pitch, a burning bin obviously a major part of whatever bonding exercise Coach Lasso had come up with. A scan of the field resulted no sign of Colin. You could see Dani Rojas, running around with Bumbercatch and Richard as if he hadn’t just been in the treatment room a mere 24 hours ago and Issac downing the last of a bottle of Mezcal back and forth with Richard whilst Ted and Beard watched on, laughing as Zoreaux choked on a swig of the liquor.
Nearest you and staring into the fire, beer bottle in hand, was the last person you wanted to see. Jamie Tartt. Of course it was. It would be so typical of your luck that it would be.
“Colin about?” You resolved yourself to asking him, wiggling your hand as the spare key jangled between your fingers. “Got to give him these.”
“Inside.” Jamie nodded “He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Humming in acknowledgment, your eyes fell to the flaming bin and curiosity got the better of you and you had to ask “Do I want to ask how he lost his keys?”
“Burnt them in that.” Jamie gestured at the flames he was staring at. When you didn’t reply, his eyes found their way to yours and he explained the whole process.
“Oh.” You were surprised. “I didn’t think team bonding would have been your thing.”
Jamie hesitated. He couldn’t argue. You were right, he hadn’t been much of a team player
“I wasn’t gonna but…thought maybe I should show my face” he shrugged, hoping you wouldn’t question his bravado. He pointed at the fire. “Do you wanna throw something in? Everyone else has.”
“I think it’s already worked…” you gestured with your arm at the field. “but yeah why not?”
You thought for a moment… you hadn’t brought anything except your phone and your own keys which… you didn’t fancy throwing in. Unlike Colin you’d have to walk home and get your spare set and walk back to the car park, which wasn’t particularly appealing in the dark.
Suddenly an idea struck you, you unclipped your necklace and extended out your hand, letting it slip, dangling in your fingertips for a few seconds before dropping it. “Hopefully this helps with the luck.”
“You don’t need luck if I’m playing.” Jame replied, a smirk on his lips. You held off rolling your eyes at his cockiness. Sometimes you really didn’t get him. Mere seconds before you’d been having a semblance of a civil conversation and then he was right back to arrogant arsehole.
“What is it?” He questioned. It had to be the first time he’d asked you anything about yourself.
“Necklace. It was my nan’s… she…died when I was 15.”
“Oh shit sorry.” It was probably the most sincere you’d ever heard him. If it had came out of anyone else’s mouth, you might have bought it as genuine. “Wasnt like anything bad, was it?”
“It was a long time ago, she was sick for a long time and…” you stopped yourself suddenly aware that this was Jamie Tartt you were talking to and any minute now, he’d probably resume his usual self centred personality. “Sorry, long story short, she passed away a while ago but… I don’t think she’d mind. Grandad was a Richmond fan.”
“What did you…put in?” you asked, swiftly changing the subject. You were half expecting the answer to be his little black book of desperate instagram girls or some signed picture of himself from one of his many magazine photoshoots. It would after all be completely on-brand for him.
“Erm…football boots, ones my mum got me. She got me into playing…” he said it trying to be casual and keep his cool. “She just wants me to enjoy playing yeah? So good motivation and that”
“I’m sure she’d be really happy for you, Jamie.” You looked over to where Colin was remerging back from the building looking extremely relived to see you. “I have to go give these to Colin. It’s why I was called out here in the first place. Have a good night.”
Truth be told, you were a little skeptical. Of both the ritual and of Jamie showing an interest in anyone else other than himself but you figured if the whole team had given the ritual a chance, maybe just maybe, Jamie Tartt had developed the capacity to care about other people.
You found out the next morning that he was on his way back to Man City when you’d received an email from his agent asking you to arrange termination of his house rental agreement
***short time skip***
When your doorbell had gone off late into Saturday afternoon a few weeks later, Jamie Tartt had been the last person you expected to see.
“Richmond said you had the stuff from my locker.” He said, leaning instantly on the door frame as soon as you answered without so much as a hello. “Said you was going to send it to the guy who does whatever it is you do at City but I called Issac, Jeff and Keeley and they’re all busy so thought come get it. Nothing better to do.”
A house visit hadn’t been on the agenda but you figured it was marginally less awkward than him swinging by the training ground so you’d taken it and had been talking to the player liaison officer at City making arrangements to send it up.
“Well I’m flattered to be your fourth choice. Coincidentally probably your first words to Pep.” You couldn’t resist the dig. Ever since he’d left, Richmond had struggled but being that he was now Man City’s problem you didn’t have to mince your words.
“Yeah well, I’ll be first choice soon. Scored today didn’t I…,” he clicked his tongue and gestured at himself. “Best goal of the match as well.”
“Wouldn’t know. I was watching Richmond.” You folded one arm over the other. A part of you enjoyed the flicker of surprise that crossed his face, but you gave him a tight smile as a somewhat attempt to be civil.
“Heard old man Roy scored yesterday. Must have taken it out of him.” Jamie rested back on the heels of his expensive trainers “Bet he’s gonna be in that ice bath for hours.”
You ignored the dig at the Richmond captain “Had the game of his life actually…like someone turned back the clock. Heard from Sam that Nate had some real words of wisdom.”
“Nate? Nathan? The kitman?” Jamie’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you in shock. “We thinking of the same guy? Him!?”
You laughed, knowing that the idea of Nate who always seemed so unassuming and quiet giving Roy Kent, footballing legend, a piece of his mind was crazy. If you’d heard it from anyone other than Sam, you’d probably have thought it was an elaborate joke.
“Apparently so.”
“Fucking hell.” His eyebrows shot up “Kinda wish I’d seen the old man’s reaction.”
“Yeah well…you weren’t…I’ll get your stuff. Probably a bit weird for you…being at a woman’s door when you haven’t slept with her.” You tapped on the door and grimaced. You knew the team would miss Jamie for his ability on the pitch.
Jamie shrugged, before he was distracted by his reflection in the window. He adjusted a stray hair then slowly turned back as of pulling his gaze away from himself was particularly tough “You would though wouldn’t you?”
A singular laugh left your throat coming out harshly. “No. Nothing personal…Zoolander” you paused as you realised that wasn’t completely honest. “Well its a little personal…but…I don’t date footballers. Went out with one once. Played for another club. Was at my friends for a weekend. He slept with six other women in two days.”
Jamie pursed his lips and let out a low whistle almost like he was impressed.
“What’s that…Rookie numbers for you?” You called over your shoulder as you stepped to the side of the door to pick up the box that had been sitting in your hallway for the past week and a half.
“Nah…even I’m not that bad” He clicked his tongue and winked “Most of the time.”
“How lovely.” You deadpanned turning back to him. “Suppose you slow down once you run out of every woman in SW16?”
Jamie looked you up and down “You always like this? All Cruella DeVille and that”
Ignoring his playground like insult, you moved one hand back to the door handle, the box balanced on your hip with the other. You were hoping you’d be able to close the door quickly and force him to go off elsewhere. “You left my club, I’m allowed to be a little mean to you.”
“Lasso sent me back. Said he didn’t need me but obviously he does though cause you were losing until today” A cocky smirk on his face, he pointed at himself “Could have used me in those other games.”
“What?” You frowned, eyebrows knotting in the centre. “What are you on about?… of course we needed you. You’re a fucking twat but you’re good. Why wouldn’t he want you in the team” You didn’t like paying him a compliment but you felt it was the only way to get a reasonable conversation out of him
Jamie almost rolled his eyes and you were unsure if it was because he thought you were stating the obvious or saying something stupid.
Noticing Jamie’s childish reaction, you called him out.
“Ted’s a really nice guy, you know. Maybe cut him a little slack?”
Ted had always been friendly to you. Giving you a good morning when he arrived and a good evening with a bright smile when he left and even talking to you about favourite books when he’d brought ones in for the team. If you offered help with setting things up, he would always tell you not to worry and he’d sort anything out himself… More often than not he was back at your office with 15minutes talking a lot about how different things were to Kansas and asking for help.
Despite being new to the sport, never mind the Premier League, Ted was at least trying. It somewhat bothered you that Jamie seemed so intent on being disrespectful.
“Knows fuck all about football though.”
“And you know fuck all about how to talk to people. Maybe you could have learnt from each other.” You snapped back before you could stop yourself. “Just an idea. It’s how adults talk.”
Feeling the exasperation levels rise and wondering how you’d even gotten this far into a conversation with him, you tossed the box of his stuff in to his arms and he managed to steady it despite being caught slightly off guard.
“Goodbye Jamie. See you next season”
And with that you slammed the door shut forcibly before he could reply.
*** time skip***
“I’m just going to get a drink, you want one?”
You offered to your friend and her boyfriend, as you slid out of your booth. Truth be told, you didn’t need another drink, you just wanted to escape for a few moments and work out if it had been this loud when you were a Uni student or if you’d just become accustomed to pubs over clubs in the years since you’d left.
With the team settled into the season, and the new signings all set up, you decided to take a week off to go visit some old friends in Manchester and against your better judgement you’d been dragged to a bar by your friend and her boyfriend.
In response your friend waved her half full, bright blue cocktail, letting you know she was good for now and you made your way across the dance floor and up to the bar, ordering the strongest cocktail on the menu not paying much attention to what was in it.
You’d only just picked up your drink when you heard it. The familiar voice causing you to whip around so quickly that you were impressed you didn’t spill anything.
“[Name]? That you?”
“Jamie Tartt.” You replied, as you took a long drink of the freshly replenished cocktail “Nice to see you.”
You were, of course, being sarcastic. You didn’t try to hide it this time. You didn’t have to. The last time you’d seen him, he’d been assisting in the game that sent Richmond down. Well… that and when your friends had sent you numerous clips of him making an arse out himself on Lust Conquers All and asking you if he really was that much of a twat in real life, to which you’d reply no, he was actually a bigger twat.
“How come you’re in Manchester?” He asked, catching you off guard. Jamie had never cared about seeing you, let alone it being ‘good to’ and now here he was making small talk like you were old friends.
“I’m visiting friends from when I lived here.” You told him keeping your answer short “Look if you want someone to sort out some private booth for you, firstly I’m on holiday and secondly I work for Richmond…you don’t…so…” you paused and gazed around the busy bar, looking for someone to pass Jamie on to “ask the barman.”
“You lived in Manchester?” Jamie tilted his head, genuine surprise crossed his features, as if you’d been withholding some crucial information. “I’m from here.”
“I know you are…“ you took another long drink, feeling like you’d need it if you were about to have another frustrating conversation as your patience was slowly slipping away. He’d completely ignored your previous statement and carried on with the small talk he’d never shown any need for before “What do you need Jamie?”
Jamie looked stunned. “I didn’t know you lived in Manchester. How come you never said?” He replied with a question in response.
“It’s a big city Jamie. You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name. You don’t need to feign interest in me. Just tell me what you want.” Patience now completely gone and just keen for him to get to the point, you downed the last of your drink and turned to place it back on the bar, only just missing the slight look of guilt he gave you.
“I just, um,” Jamie hesitated, unsure as to how to start, he bit his lip. There was no way he could just come out with it.
He’d tried Keeley but she’d told him to talk to Ted which… he really didn’t want to do. He knew he’d have to eventually but he didn’t want to have to ask especially after how they’d left things in person. Jamie knew from the tiny army man and note that Ted held no resentment but approaching him was a completely different ask so he’d headed back to his mums in Manchester first to weigh up his options.
He considered messaging one of the team but knew after his assist to send Richmond down, they likely would not want to speak to him…so he went through the staff- Kitman Will was a no go, Nate an even bigger no, he didn’t even think he had his number. Jamie went through a few of the back room staff before the thought of you crossed his mind and he felt like an idiot for not thinking of it sooner.
You fixed everything. Player needed a mechanic, you had one around within an hour, one of the coaches needed a caterer, you could arrange it, any player needed schools for their kids, you had uniforms by the end of the day. It was, at least to Jamie, like you could fix any problem…so hoping you could fix his big one, he looked you up on instagram and seeing that you’d posted only two hours ago, he clicked to view.
You were laughing and clinking glasses with another girl and a guy and had placed a tag in the corner indicating what bar you were in. Jamie could barely believe his luck when he clicked on it; as if by chance, as if this was confirmation that he had to talk to you, the tag showed as a bar only fifteen minutes away. He’d left within five. He didn’t know why you were here in his home city but to Jamie it felt like a sign so he’d threw on a coat and headed out to find you.
“It’s nice to see you Jamie but if you’ve got nothing to say, I really need to get back to my friend.” It was a small lie, you could not have cared less about running into him.
“Wait.” He protested, reaching for your arm before pulling back, barely grazing you. “Can we have a drink or something?”
“I’m not a waitress Jamie. If you want a drink, you’ll have to get one yourself like a big boy.”
From the vacant expression that had taken over, he clearly no idea what you were talking about and was waiting for you to fill in the blanks.
“It was a joke. At the charity event, you gave me twenty quid and told me to get you a drink. I told you I wasn’t a waitress and you said ‘same thing’… then I took the £20 and used it for my taxi home… you obviously don’t remember.”
Jamie felt discomfort twist in his chest as he averted his eyes to the ground for a few seconds. Had he really said that? You said it so casually like it was normal.
“Look…please can I just talk you? I’ll…pay for your drinks.” He attempted a peace offering, only for you to wince.
“I can get my own drinks.” You stated bluntly, with a half hearted smile. “I’ll see you later, I’d say good luck for this season but Caths a United fan”
“I’m sorry…uh, I fucked it alright? I don’t…City don’t want me back.” Jamie slid in front of you quickly to try slow your move to the table down. “And I didn’t win Lust Conquers All…”
“I’m sorry to hear you didn’t win your show. Maybe there’s another you can rate strippers on or something.”
“It’s all I’m actually any good at.” His voice was far more subdued, far more quiet than you’d heard him before so much so you would have missed it if it wasn’t said in a seconds pause between songs.
“Rating strippers?” You made a joke, lips twisting up as you raised an eyebrow. However Jamie in response still looked deadly serious, so much so that something inside made your resolve falter. It was not like Jamie Tartt to be remotely serious.
You sighed, eyes skimming over the room to your friend, who was trying to wave you over with a questioning look on her face. Holding up a few fingers, you indicated to her you’d only be two minutes. She shrugged and went back to whatever conversation she was having with her boyfriend.
“Please.” He asked once more and you knew would kick yourself if this turned out to be an act. “I swear down I’m being serious”
You glanced back at Jamie who looked so utterly defeated, in a way you’d never seen him. He looked a million miles away from that cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen last time.
“Fine. We can talk but… outside…” you threw your hand up and jerked your thumb at the door. “I’ll meet you out there. I need to let my friend know I’m leaving.”
**
The cold air hit you suddenly as you stepped out of the busy bar, squeezing by a hen do and heading down the stairs. Jamie was already waiting outside, shifting from one foot to the other, looking even more on edge that he had done inside. Having seen his adverts, you knew he was not that good of an actor, whatever was going on it had to be at least a little bit real.
“Alright. I’m all ears.” You stated as you reached the bottom.
Jamie found himself talking and talking to you as you walked through the city without any real direction. You asked the occasional question but besides that you were mostly just listening. He was stalling, putting off asking you for help by just relaying the drama between leaving City and being voted off the show. You could tell there was something else. There was no way he’d drag you, someone he barely knew, barely liked, out into the city streets to question the voting public for picking some guy called Danthony over him.
“They offered me a reality show…when I got kicked off but I’d have to do ecstasy and shit and…” Jamie trailed off, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his designer puffer jacket. “Didn’t want that.”
“Drugs too far?” You joked, not wanting to show that you were actually pleasantly surprised that he had a limit as to what he’d do for fame. His eyes caught yours and he shook his head.
There was a beat, a few seconds of only the city sounds, you spoke again, your voice and your eyes more sympathetic this time. “I’m glad you didn’t take it. It would be a waste of your actual talent if you did. You’re way too good at football to piss it all away for some shit show…Why did you leave City anyway? Thought you had it all worked out? And be honest with me, I’m not thick, I’ll know.”
Jamie caught your eye, your gaze on him was questioning, but not in the demanding, scrutinising way he was so used to. You were looking at him in such a way, If you didn’t hate him, Jamie could almost convince himself you were asking because you cared. The slight softening of your look on him made him drop what was remaining of his facade and tell you the truth. “I thought it’d piss off my dad.”
“Ah,” the sound was small, “Is your dad…?”
“A prick?” Jamie stated bluntly before you could finish “Yeah. On me all the time, over everything. Always has been. Always got something to fucking say. Got sick of it. I know it’s stupid but…”
“It’s not stupid…well it was a stupid thing to do…” you pulled your coat tighter against the wind. “but you’re not stupid. I understand. I think most people would. I’m sorry your dads an arsehole.”
“Thanks” He commented with a tight face as you rounded the corner. “But I’m used to it”
“You shouldn’t have to be.”
You stopped as he could see your hotel lit up ahead on the street you were now walking down and somehow you’d ended up back where you were staying and you felt a little bit sorry to leave him. A small, tiny part of you thought about inviting him up and offering to continue the conversation but this was Jamie and you had a feeling he would definitely get the wrong idea.
“Erm… this… this is me.” You tilted your head up ahead at the hotel door “Thank you for walking me back Jamie. Even if you didn’t mean to.”
“Do you think Richmond would have me back?” Jamie asked quickly, fearing he’d lose his chance at getting out what had been lingering on his mind since he’d walked out of the meeting with his agent. “I could really really use Richmond now. And I think Richmond need me?” He gave you a tweak of a smile, more hopeful than arrogant.
Ah of course. That was it. He did need something after all. Despite this, you didn’t feel any resentment, you actually felt a little bit bad for him. Jamie had been a first class twat but he also seemed to be genuinely trying to reach out.
You gave him an apologetic smile. “Look, I wish I could help but…you’ll have to talk to Ted. I don’t have any say it in. I can give him a heads up but at the end of the day, he’s the manager, Jamie.”
“Yeah. Keeley said the same thing.” He looked dejected, reluctant even. “Don’t know why I thought you’d say anything else.” He dragged one of his expensive trainers against the concrete pavement and you winced at thinking how they probably cost a substantial chunk of your wages.
“I’m not surprised. She’s smart, makes me wonder why she went out with you.” You took the opportunity to lightly tease him although kept your tone completely deadpan.
“Oi come on! I’m being nice!” Jamie’s head shot up, ready to protest until he could see you were smiling and his shoulders loosened.
“I know I’m messing with you.” You replied “but seriously Talk to Ted. He’s usually at The Crown and Anchor. He’s a nice guy, Jamie. Give him a chance.”
“Fine. Thanks.” Jamie shrugged, looking like he’d rather do anything else. “If it works, can I have my old house back?”
“I’ll sort something…Goodnight Jamie.”You reached over and squeezed his arm “and good luck.”
***
Jamie’s reintegration was not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. With the rest of the team being somewhat reluctant to forgive his attitude from his last spell in at the club, Jamie was now getting the cold shoulder.
“Shit!” You jumped when you walked into you office. “How long have you been here? How did you get in?”
“No one likes me.” Jamie muttered from the spare chair opposite your desk. He didn’t answer your question but from the lost look on his face you didn’t feel like pushing it. He was slouched so far over your desk, he was practically lying on it, training jacket pulled up over his face and his chin in his hand
“Can’t say I blame them. You were kind of an arsehole last time you were here.” You placed your bag on the spot on the desk not occupied by Jamie.
“But like I’m actually trying and they’re… are all being dickheads about it.” He sat up suddenly, throwing his arms back as he slumped back into the chair.
“Again I don’t blame them.”
“Colin said I was the worm now.”
You cocked your head confused “I’m not going to ask…but I probably don’t blame him”
“Even the new lads giving me stick”
“Yeah, word travels, you’re… kinda infamous here now”
“Yeah I know…” Jamie clicked his tongue as if you were stating the obvious “but why do they hate me… when I’m trying?” He held out his hands and looked over at you, waiting for your clarification.
“Jamie. You got us relegated, you were a bad team mate and a bit of a shit…”
“Alright, alright.” Jamie shrugged “just you’re the only one whose nice to me…except maybe Ted but he don’t count he’s nice to everyone and Keeley but she’s my ex ain’t she? How can I make them like me? Get them all something?”
“It’ll take time Jamie… you can’t just make it up to them with gifts…”
Deciding you had to do to something to distract him, you lifted your bag up from the desk again and gestured for him to stand up which he did so reluctantly.
“Right okay, get your keys…I’m not having you moping around my office…let’s go for a walk or a drive or whatever and talk. It’ll help. I promise”
**
It quickly became a regular, daily thing. Jamie would come to your office as soon as the on field training was done. The rest of the team would head into the gym and he’d come wait in your office or out for coffee until most of the others had left and then he’d slip down to the gym to train alone.
You’d were slowly softening to him. He’d even started opening up a bit more, slowly elaborating day by day until he was talking more openly to you than you’d ever thought. Underneath all the cocky bravado, Jamie was a sweet, funny, guy who’d just fallen into the trap of thinking arrogance was a shield against anything the world could throw at him. You liked this side of him far far more and you couldn’t help yourself but think if he’d always been like this, like he was now, you’d have been friends a long time ago.
You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing when Jamie told you about Ted’s alter ego act. Even more so that he was completely straight faced when relaying how weird it was. You could guess what Ted was doing, but Jamie seemed so serious he had you in stitches.
“Oh and I, erm, I spoke to the, the therapist lady…Doctor Sharon.” Jamie slipped in quickly, before he could change his mind over telling you. His eyes quickly shot over your shoulder to the aerial photograph of Nelson Road that decorated the wall behind your desk and focused hard on it as he waited for your response.
Jamie had no reason to doubt you’d be supportive but still he could have sworn the few seconds it took for you to reply was actually an hour. He worried in those few seconds that he’d overstepped the mark and made you uncomfortable with an over share or that you’d kick him out.
You couldn’t believed Jamie had just spent fifteen minutes ranting about ‘Led Tasso’ and completely neglected to mention that he’d spoken to the new therapist.
“Jamie…why didn’t you tell me!” You exclaimed, nearly knocking over the Richmond mug on your desk over your laptop. “That’s great!”
“Dunno” Jamie managed to drop his stare from the wall to you and shrugged “I erm, didn’t think it was worth mentioning. Keeley dragged me up there and I thought might aswell. Nothing better do to.”
“Course its worth mentioning. Getting help is the best thing you can do… it’s hard to take that first step and reach out. I’m proud of you.”
“Really?” For a second Jamie wondered if he’d hallucinated. He hadn’t heard that. Not those words in that order from anyone in a long time and Jamie liked the thought of you, of all people, being proud of him.
“Yeah! Going…and actually talking to a professional? That’s amazing! Did it help?”
Jamie let your response sink in before he nodded “Uh yeah I think so, spoke to her about like my dad and stuff. She’s really good.” He scratched his cheek quickly before dropping his hands to the table.
“It’s great, everything you’re doing. It’ll take time… but I’m just so happy you’re reaching out.” You leant over the desk and placed your hand over his and gave it a squeeze “you know you’ve always got me but talking to a professional is the best thing for you.” The second you’d retracted Jamie missed the reassurance provided by the warm contact.
“Knock knock” a voice called from the doorframe interrupting and Jamie felt his heart drop as one of his teammates stuck his head around “Hello!”
“Jan! Hi!” You beamed at him, getting up from your desk as Jamie tried not to let his disappointment show at the interruption. “Come in!”
“You ready? You’re always packed up early and ready to go so I thought I would come see” Jan slipped around the door and raised his eyebrows staring at your desk which, as he’d guessed, was already pretty much clear for the day. “Usually in the last hour you don’t do any work.”
You rolled your eyes at his assessment but didn’t protest. You very rarely got anything done in the last hour so tended to scroll on your phone, clear up and wait until you could leave.
“Alright?” Jamie attempted to greet the other man “Is anyone down in the gym, mate?”
Jan shook his head no, not conversing with the other man any more than needed and waited for Jamie to stand up and make his way to the door, stepping aside to let him leave.
“Um, thanks [Name], I’ll see you later yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll come see you later.” You offered “We can go to that restaurant for dinner. The Indian one I was telling you about the other day?”
Jamie nodded and shut the door quickly suddenly all too aware of his teammate watching him.
***
“Why are you friends with him?” Jan asked pointedly as you left the room a few minutes later and made your way to the car park.
“Jamie’s really trying. Trust me last season he would not have even acknowledged me” you laughed and pointed at yourself.
“I don’t like him.” Jan said, looking like you’d posed some sort of serious question before he offered you a sweet from the bag he was holding out “Left you the red ones.” He glanced back into the bag “Well most of them!”
“Be nice!” You jokingly punched his arm before thanking him for leaving your favourites “Jamie’s trying not be a twat…but It’s hard for him. He’s had years of practice.”
Jamie watched you’d leave with the centre back from the open gym door. From your hushed voice, you were doing your best to keep quiet so he wouldn’t overhear but the ‘he wouldn’t have acknowledged me’ stung. Deep down he knew it was true, he hadn’t been nice to you, and you were understandably cold to him.
He’d find himself worried, wondering if you were with Jan, what if you no longer had time for him, what if he lost the one real friend he had. Although if Jamie was honest with himself, he’d liked you as more than a friend for a while.
A few days into his return to Richmond, he’d been unable to sleep. Worrying that the team hated him, would always hate him, was he this pathetic failure his dad said he was, would he ever be considered a talented footballer again or would he always just be a joke who put his ‘brand’ first.
He realised he’d didn’t want to call his anyone except you. He wanted to talk to you. You’d answered on the fourth ring and if you were annoyed at being woken at 1am, you didn’t sound it. You’d been concerned, asking if he was in trouble.
“No…I can’t sleep.” Jamie had said, almost ashamed to say anything more. He worried you’d think it was pathetic, a weak reasoning for calling, but at the same time hoped you’d pick up on the something left unsaid.
You did. “I know what you mean” you’d spoken, sleepily “you want a distraction? I can read to you if you like. My books so boring, you’ll fall asleep.”
Jamie had laughed and accepted your offer and settled in as you’d started to read some story.
When he woke the next morning, you were still on the other end of the phone. You were already awake but you must have stayed on the call with him.
‘Just in case’ you’d told him, the corner of your cheek twitching on one side.
It was the single most simple, caring gesture but it cemented it. In that moment he knew he was gone. You just knew him. When he needed to laugh, when he needed to talk and when he just wanted a distraction. (You’d never tell him how easy it was for you to tell).
The next time, hed offered to return the favour he’d read you the book Coach Lasso had bought him. He’d been reluctant at first but you’d persuaded him, encouraging him a little bit at a time and before you knew it, he’d read it cover to cover.
You were just a kind person, he told himself. You were like that with everyone. He’d see you excitedly trying some Nigerian food Sam brought in or attempt to speak Spanish to Dani, who would be thrilled and offer to teach you, he’d see you talk to Keeley, usually showing each other something on your phones and giggling.
Jamie would find himself analysing every conversation you’d had with him, where you like that with other people and for signs that maybe your feelings were mutual. He would run over everything in his head as he ran on the treadmill or worked on presses so much so that by the time he’d decided to just keep quiet, as he did every day, he’d have done several miles or lost count of the amount of presses he’d done.
Fuck it there was no way he could tell you. You were happy and you were his friend and he’d rather have you in his life as his friend than not at all.
***short time skip***
When Jamie had came into your office in a panic on Christmas Eve, asking you if you’d ever cooked a Christmas dinner and begging for you to help him cook one for his mum who would be visiting, you’d agreed against your better judgement. You’d cooked Christmas dinner twice. Once at University and once when your mum had a migraine and you had to finish off and now you were in Jamie’s house on Christmas Day making what he’d bought from M&S two days before into a Christmas dinner.
“I’m surprised you asked me. I thought you’d be inundated with offers.” You said, only half joking as you turned the parsnips in their tray. Jamie who was mulching the cranberries for the sauce like his life depended on it, just shrugged and muttered a ‘not really’. He wished he’d asked you to actually spend Christmas with him properly and not to do him a favour but doing so now would seem last minute and you’d already told him you were dropping in to the Higgins later.
As if on cue, your phone beeped from across the room and you swung the dish towel over your shoulder, not noticing Jamie staring as you flicked up to read Jan’s Whatsapp, watching your face for any signs. Trying to see if you’d added any little hearts next to his name or if you replied to him with twice as many X’s as you gave anyone else.
Ever since Jamie had realised he’d fallen for you, he’d became somewhat obsessed with trying to work out what was going on between you and his teammate. He’d never ask Jan directly. Having been on the receiving end of one of Jan’s blunt comments, Jamie didn’t want to risk hearing something he didn’t want to. With the team still giving him the cold shoulder more often than not, he considered asking Keeley. He’d seen you and her talking sometimes and wondered if it would be weird to ask his ex before realising if he did ask Keeley anything, there was the risk that Roy Kent would overhear and Jamie couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing.
“Richard brought a girl to the Higgins’ party.“ you laughed, letting Jamie know what was happening “Jan just told me.”
“Of course he did” Jamie laughed “Not surprised. He’d bring a girl to training if thought he’d get away with it.”
“Thought that would have been you?” You teased back only to get an eye roll and elbow nudge in response.
After a few minutes, you walked around his kitchen to check the table was set and were surprised to see he’d done a decent job of it.
“I think you’re all set. I promise you can take all the credit. You just need to take the turkey out when she gets here and put the Yorkshires in. They’ll be done quickly so don’t burn them. Desserts are in the fridge.”
Jamie looked a little reluctant and you had to admit the idea of a footballer who regularly played in front of thousands of people being nervous about presenting a Christmas dinner to his mum was a little funny.
“It’ll be good. Trust me…oh wait!” Your face lit up as you suddenly remembered “I have a present for you!” Before he had the chance to respond you’d dashed out into the hall, retrieved the gift from beside where you left your coat and returned back and pushed it into his hands.
After making a show of rattling it to try sense what was inside, Jamie unwrapped it carefully. Your eyes focused in on his face looking for any sign, hoping he liked the gift and you’d hadn’t made things weird.
In the box was a pair of his boots, the same brand his mum had got him, like his first pair. Jamie lifted them out carefully, and turned them over in his hand to see them.
“They’re obviously not the exact pair but they’re customs, I asked Sam what brand they were and they don’t do the exact ones anymore but I found some guy online and…they’re pretty much the same…If you can’t wear them for games because of sponsorships or whatever, you can maybe use them for training or you can return them, i won’t be offended, I just…”
“Thank you.” Jamie was quiet, staring down at the boots before his eyes turned on you “this is the nicest present anyone has ever given me. I, um… thank you.” He repeated finding himself rendered somewhat speechless at what thought you’d put in and how you were clearly worried he wouldn’t like it.
“It’s nothing. I just wanted to do something for you…”
“It’s not nothing, I actually do really like them and I’m definitely wearing them. Next game. Thank you.” Jamie paused, his head was only filled with thoughts of how much he wanted to kiss you here in his kitchen, how much he wanted to ask you to stay with him, to spend the rest of the day with him, eating Christmas dinner with his mum and sharing the big box of Roses chocolates and watching any Christmas special just because and then dancing to whatever Christmas song came on, late into the evening.
“Actually I… I got you something too.”
“You got me a present?” Your eyebrows raised in a playful manner “It’s not like a signed picture of you or anything is it? Because if it is, it’s going on eBay.”
“No. Uh…two minutes alright?” Jamie left the room and returned a few minutes later, a poorly wrapped present in his hands. “Sorry about the shit wrapping.”
You laughed and unwrapped it, your face breaking out into a big smile as you found the present “no way!”“This is the coolest thing ever!”
A quiet, comfortable silence had fallen between the two of you over your FaceTime call, you’d just finished laughing about Jamie telling you how he broke into his schools tuck shop as a kid and stole six packets of malteasers. It should have been just a funny childhood anecdote shared with a friend and yet the comments you’d made a while ago itched at the back of Jamie’s mind. “You never asked me about myself, surprised you even remembered my name.” He’d gotten to know you since of course but he wanted to know more, he wanted you to tell him everything, like he was making up for looking through you before.
“Tell me something funny you did when you was kid” He asked before he could stop himself.
“Oh.” You shifted putting your phone down, thinking for a moment. “Ah okay I’ve got it!” You grinned “don’t laugh!” You made him promise.
“When I was a little kid, like I’m talking pre-primary school age, I had this cream cardigan, big daisies and red roses stitched all over it and I would wear it everywhere. I’d put it on to walk to school and cry when Miss Neil made me take it off, when I came home and my mum had to wash it, I’d sit by the washing machine and then in the garden waiting for it to dry. I’d even wear it when it was summer and it was probably too warm, I wore it even when it didn’t go with my outfit. I was not a fashion forward kid”
Jamie started laughing and couldn’t suppress it even over your protests that he promised he wouldn’t.
“What happened to it? The cardigan? You still have it?”
You pouted half jokingly “It got left on a plane on the way back from Tenerife. I cried so much, my dad rang Gatwick and the airport in Tenerife but no one ever turned it in. I’d have outgrown it but I loved that cardigan so much” you said wistfully “I was so annoyed thinking of some random person with my cardigan… I’ve searched online but there’s nothing like it.”
“Understandable. It sounds peak nineties” Jamie remarked with a raised eyebrow
“Oi. It would be considered vintage now” you laughed “Teenagers on depop would pay mega money for that.”
You picked it up and held it against you before putting it straight on without checking for tags.
“Jamie…” You wrapped it tight and folded your arms around you “You remembered! I feel a bit bad for joking now”
“Don’t…don’t…you don’t need to say anything.” Seeing you happy hit him like a brick wall. All he wanted was you smiling at him like you were doing now. His voice was quiet and he could feel the tension, he needed to do something, anything to dissipate it, if he didn’t…Jamie feared he’d just come out with it. “You have the real deal anyway, you don’t need a photo” He settled for a joke.
“Thank you!” You beamed at him and got up to kiss his cheek. “This is the coolest present ever!”
How was it that he’d never been short on attention from women but a kiss on the cheek from you had the biggest effect on him like he was a teenage boy again the first time he fancied a girl.
“Thank you for mine. And for all this…You really sure you can’t stay? It’ll just be me and mum and she’ll fall asleep after Eastenders.”
“Call me when she does. If I’m up, we can FaceTime” you still had your cardigan on and slipped your coat on over the top. “Maybe we can watch one of the Home Alones or Elf together.”
“I love Elf. It’s like my favourite film after Ratatouille.” He grinned at you and you laughed as you reached up and hugged him.
“I know. Merry Christmas Jamie.” You kissed him on the cheek once more
“Merry Christmas, [Name],”
***short time skip***
The addition of Roy to the coaching staff had gone perfectly…except for the one pretty major hiccup of Jamie clashing with him daily and on one occasion, making his way to your place after training to ask if you thought he had bad hair prompting you to wonder what exactly was going on.
A few days later and you were anxiously waiting on the final whistle in the quarter final against Tottenham, Jamie had played incredibly. A goal from right outside the box and only a minute ago he’d scored what looked like it would be the winner. At the sound of the whistle, you were up on your feet and running down to the tunnel. The moment you saw Jamie you ran to him and pulled him into a hug, him lifting you up and holding you flush against him for a few moments.
“You were amazing!” You enthused, looking up at him as you separated. “That free kick in the first half was one of the best ever seen! And a last minute goal… that’s the best game I’ve ever seen you play.”
Jamie grinned on a high from the result, his performance and now you gushing about him, telling him so earnestly how good he was felt amazing. For a moment he could forget you were in the Nelson Road tunnel with a little over 25,000 people just outside and other players and staff milling around you.
“Thanks. My first goal was good wasn’t it?” He was standing so confidently. It had turned out being a prick worked for him…so long as he kept it to the pitch. You liked seeing him back to the player you knew he could be.
“That’s goal of month, maybe even the season!”You reached up and fixed his hair without even thinking “Go celebrate. you deserve this.”
“Come out with me… I mean come out with us, we’re going out, all of us, you should come” Jamie said all at once.
“Sure I’ll come for one!” You nodded.
*
Across the bar, you could see a girl who looked like she could have walked off the set of Keeping Up with the Kardashians lean over and talk to Richard who was responding by pouring her a glass of wine, no doubt feeding her some sort of cheesy chat up line.
Jamie slid into the booth beside you, and, with the slight contact your knee made against his, he felt himself relax.
“That’s probably the third girl I’ve seen him give his number to tonight” he commented and you laughed, pleased to see him join you in your people watching.
“Welcome to being on this side of the fence.” You leant in close to him so you could talk.
“She not your type?” You asked curiously. “She’s alive isn’t she?” You teased. Jamie hadnt dated since Keeley, or rather, since his stint on the show if you could call that dating. It did seem a little odd to you that he’d never once mentioned anyone despite your fast formed friendship and everything else he’d willingly shared with you.
Jamie shook his head. “Nah i’m…”. How could he tell you he didn’t want anyone else other than you. “I’m not…nah not really doing that kinda thing anymore.”
Even if he tried, Jamie doubted he could bring himself to show any enthusiasm for chatting up anyone else anymore. How could he consider anyone else when it felt like you were the only person in the room who saw him. You actually saw him for him in his worst moments and still wanted to be around him. How could he not want you?
Your heart was beating as you took in Jamie’s response. It was only a short response but it set the smallest of sparks in your stomach and you took a swig from the bottle of cider in your hand to distract yourself from running over what that meant. Was he not interested in anyone? Was there something he wasn’t saying?
Looking for something to change the subject before it became awkward, your eyes fell to your phone, flat against the table, and you started at the clock telling you it was 00:10. Somewhat grateful for the easy out, you picked it up and slipped it into your back.
“I’m going to head home, I have an early start tomorrow.”
“Can i walk you home?” Jamie felt a little dejected but wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend time with you just one on one. “I don’t mind leaving now?”
You were grateful and almost wished you could take him up on it. Maybe when you were alone you could ask him more about what he meant.
How badly you wanted to say yes. Yes to him walking you home and how you’d hope on the walk home you’d maybe have enough courage to invite him in and up to your bedroom. The experience with your ex still lingered and you never ever thought it would be Jamie Tartt of all people to make you want to throw your one rule out of the window.
But he wasn’t the Jamie of old. This Jamie was funny and caring, he’d bring you a tea every morning before training, he’d call you and he’d ask you to go do “intellectual stuff” with him when he was too self conscious to go himself. He’d run through ideas or tactics he had with you and even ask you to watch his highlight reels, not for vanity but because he wanted a fans opinion, he’d get you to come out to dinners with him when he was offered free food at restaurants and throughout all of this, you were just his friend, his loyal best friend, when you were internally screaming that you wanted him.
Realising you hadn’t said anything in a few seconds, you quickly found a response “you’re the best for offering but… Jan’s offered to drive me. He’s not been drinking so it’s fine. He’s dropping off Colin too if you need a lift, I can ask him? I’m sure he won’t mind?” You asked, hoping Jamie would accept and you’d just both get out at his or yours.
Jamie felt an uncomfortable twist in his stomach.
Of course. Jan. Were you going back to his? Did you talk to Jan the way you talked to him? What had happened to “I don’t date footballers” or was that just your way of telling him you’d never want him like he wanted you? There was a part of him screaming to retreat, make an excuse, go home, move on but Jamie didn’t want to do that. He wanted to ask you outright but he couldn’t push the words out. So he did neither and just sat there.
“It’s okay.” He said forcing a smile. “Someone has to look after Isaac. I’ll get a taxi”
“Are you sure? If you want we can-…”
“Hey. Are you ready?” the Dutch centre-back interrupted from the aisle between tables before Jamie could reply “Some of us need sleep.” He teased, pointing at Colin who was leaning to one side, almost asleep on Moe’s shoulder “and I don’t want him to sleep in my car. Last time I had to let him sleep on my sofa.”
You laughed and almost as if he heard his teammate Colin jolted awake muttering he was ready and reaching for his coat.
“Sure I’m ready.” You gave Jamie a hug as you stood up and he watched you go, wishing he’d gone with you the second you were gone.
**
Jamie had been on edge since it was confirmed that the semi final at Wembley would be against Man City. You knew it had to be related to his dad, to his old club, to how everything was building to such a point that he was wound so tight, you were surprised he hadn’t snapped like an elastic band.
In the fall out from the result to Man City and the altercation with his dad, Jamie had come to you before he’d boarded the bus. He hadn’t needed to say anything, it was all over his face. You could see it. Without even needing to ask, Ted had waved for you to get on the bus with the team. Usually the staff would travel separately if they went to games but in this moment, the coach didn’t question it.
You settled in beside Jamie and shifted so he could rest his head on your shoulder and carefully you reached around so you could put an arm around him too and used your other to take his hand and you would stay that way for the journey back to the training ground where the players had left their cars.
Even as you exited the coach, you could tell he was tense, and as you walked him to his car, you could barely hear him when he came out with it.
“Are you okay?” You asked him once he’d done explaining “I’m so sorry Jamie. Your dad really is a prick”
Before Jamie replied, he looked up and over you across the car park, his eyes caught those of his teammate.
“I, uh, I will be. Fresh air is doing me good. I think I need to go home and sleep.” It wasn’t a lie.
“Jamie. I’m not an idiot. You need to talk?”
He pushed a hand back through his hair and with one look in your eyes conceded with a nod
*
After driving back to his and getting into his house, Jamie dropped onto the sofa, not bothering to change out of the training kit he’d travelled in. You made him a decaf tea and took a spot next to him on his sofa and let him lean back on you as listened to him tell you everything
“Was that the first time you’d…”
“Hit him back?” Jamie’s eyes didn’t lift from the spot in the middle distance. “Yeah. Couldn’t really fight back as a kid.”
“I was going to say ‘seen him since you left…” you kept your arm around him, loosely tracing in a manner you hoped was soothing. “But I’d guess same answer.”
Jamie lifted his head off your shoulder for a second. “Erm…” His dad had contacted him a few times whilst he’d played for City. Mostly asking for free tickets, to meet the rest of the team and to get tours of the ground. Jamie had given in reluctantly on the first one and skirted around the final two. “Yeah… I guess he wasn’t arsed about me playing for Richmond. Cant brag about me if I’m in the Championship and he can’t be fucked getting the train down to London”
“Jamie.” You tried “you deserve so much better…He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.” You reassured him “you’ve been amazing these past few months Jamie. The best you’ve played. I know you probably wouldn’t want him at Richmond but still…his loss”
“Only got him the tickets to get him off my back and he didn’t even fucking support me. Went in the City end. Don’t know what I was expecting”
You imagined that must have stung for him. His dad feigning an interest just to turn around and support the team playing against his son. His old club, to add insult to injury.
“How do you feel now?” You asked cautiously. “Must have been hard for you to stand up to him…given how long he’s been…like that for?”
“I mean… shit because he’s my dad but he doesn’t act like he is, but like…I don’t regret it or anything…I just got fucking shit of it yknow…slagging me off, the club off…putting me down in front of everyone…and he’ll show up next time, if we get promoted he’ll be after tickets again…”
“We’ll make sure he doesn’t get near. You never have to deal with that again Jamie. You shouldn’t have had to take it back then and you don’t now”
“Thanks.” He added on “For… not just staying here but…for like always having time for me and that.”
“I’ll always have time for you Jamie.”
***a few weeks later***
The yearly charity gala had come around fast and unlike last year, you had actually looked forward to it this year. In the weeks leading up to it, you’d picked out a new outfit including new shoes.
Jamie had agreed to pick you up, asking you the second you’d said you were going and you’d agreed. Since you’d spent the night at his, completely platonically, Jamie’s already overwhelming feelings towards you had grown even more and you showing up to a charity gala with his teammate was the last thing he wanted and even though he’d spent the entire day telling himself this wasn’t a date, he still felt nervous as he rang your doorbell.
The second you opened it, he couldn’t help but break out into a big smile “You look… really good.” He nodded “this new?”
“Thank you” you accepted his compliment, nodding as you stepped aside to let him in “So do you. Not auctioning yourself off tonight?”
“Nah I’m not feeling up for it this year.”
Your eyes scanned his suit before realising his tie was slightly off “Can I?” You pointed at it.
You waited for him to nod before stepping in to fix his tie, before realising it needed a re-do.
“You know I’ve not had to wear a tie since school, but I reckon I could do a better job of it than this.” You joked, pulling the knot by his neck and re opening the fabric.
“You wore your tie? Don’t think I went a week without forgetting mine.” Jamie laughed.
“I was Deputy Head Girl.” You felt a little bit red, like suddenly you were back at school being paired with the popular boy for a project. “Kinda had to.” You looped it around before sliding it into place.
You shook the thought from your head. This was Jamie. Your friend. He could date anyone he wanted, why would he go out with someone normal and ordinary.
Jamie watched you in concentration for a few seconds before he couldn’t help himself.
“He’s punching going out with you, you know” the words came out of his mouth before he could stop them.
He couldn’t help himself. Jamie didn’t mean it, at least, he didn’t mean it as it sounded. Jan was fine and of course he would be your exception to your rule. He seemed like he’d be your type. Still it stung. He wasn’t used to not getting the girls he liked…but maybe he should have expected it. You weren’t interested in the fame that attracted girls to athletes normally so of course you wouldn’t want him. You probably liked Jan because he was honest, funny and spoke three languages rather than the money and fame.
You stopped what you were doing, hands still on his tie, confused.
“What are you on about?”
“Yknow…Jan. You’re way too fit for him.”
“I’m not going out with Jan.”
You made sure it was centred before letting go of the fabric and suddenly aware of your close proximity, you stepped back.
“He takes you home and stuff…I figured you two were.”
“Shagging?” You came straight out with it, eyebrows raised
“Well…yeah?” He shrugged. “Ain’t you with him?”
Who’d have thought it. Jamie Tartt, who you’d considered the biggest arsehole you’d ever met a few months back, now being protective over you. It was weirdly quite sweet. Truth be told, you’d warmed to Jamie. A lot. If anyone had told you that last season you’d have thought they’d gone mad. When he’d left Richmond, you’d never even expected to see him in person again, let alone be friends with him.
“Jan’s just a friend…Didn’t realise anyone had noticed…also… surprised you remembered my…thing about footballers”
“I’m glad you’re not with him cause, yknow he’s…”
“Are you going to call someone else a prick?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling with it. “Because if you are, that’s pretty fucking ironic.”
Jamie opened and closed his mouth, ready to reply when he saw you were half smiling.
“I’m messing with you...again” you teased and Jamie remembered the conversation he’d had with you outside the hotel in Manchester. Only this time you were looking at him differently. Back then you were looking at him like he was lost, now he’d swear you were… almost looking at him with affection.
“Nah, hes… he’s alright yknow just he’s not…” Jamie paused. He couldn’t say ‘not good enough’ because if Jan wasn’t the type of footballer you’d date, Jamie knew he definitely wouldn’t be. “Not who i picture you with.”
“Who do you picture me with?”
You were looking up at him, genuine interest on your face like you were waiting on a serious answer.
“I, uh, I don’t know.” The twisting in his stomach had been replaced and now the weight of relief, finding out you weren’t actually with Jan had lifted he didn’t know exactly what to say. With other girls he’d never had a problem asking them out but you? It was always different with you. “Just someone else.”
“Jamie…what’s going on?” you reached up and gently tilted his face so you could look at him. In spite of your confident action, your heart was hammering against your chest.
He let out a deep breath, eyes flickering over you for a moment, before he came out with it
“When I thought you were going out with Jan Maas. It was driving me mad.”
“Why?”
“I…I guess maybe I was jealous or something?”
“Thought you didn’t get jealous.” You’d heard all about his escapades with other women via the press and via various clips people had sent you of him on his TV show.
“I don’t not normally …” Jamie played with the cuff links absentmindedly. He sighed and looked down and then back up at you “I don’t wanna be like that anymore…I just,” he paused.
“Look” you said again “whatever you want to say… you can tell me…”
Jamie didn’t know what was holding him back. “I want to be the kind of guy you’d go out with, i don’t wanna disrespect you, and like I don’t want to ruin us being mates but…I really, really like you.”
“Jamie.” You laced your hand with his, feeling a swelling in your chest “I wish you’d told me sooner…You already are…you are the kind of guy I’d go out with.”
“What?”
“You are…the type of guy that I’d go out with.” You repeated with a reassurance in your voice “How could you not be? You’re sweet, you’re funny, you make me laugh…you listen…”
Jamie felt his heart hard against his chest, barely able to let your words sink in. “So if I asked you out? you’d go out with me?”
“Of course I will.” You squeezed his hand gently and as his shoulders relaxed and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as he dropped his forehead to yours.
“I can’t believe Jamie Tartt was worried about asking me out. You’ve been out with like models and stuff…and it’s me that you were worried about.”
He sighed “Yeah but that’s why I like you…cause you’re you.”
Come on. Let’s go to this auction.”
“Together yeah?”
“Of course. Good job your shirt matches my outfit…or you’d have to change” you teased.
Cue when you walked in hand in hand, Jamie was greeted by about half the team congratulating him on you two finally getting it together, including Jan who’d found it hilarious that Jamie had thought something was going on between you too.
***
Jamie had, with the best intentions, planned a perfect evening. A few days after you’d accepted him asking you out, he’d booked a reservation at restaurant he knew you’d like as a surprise knowing that it was one you’d always walked by and remarked it looked nice but never got around to trying it .
Things had not gone as planned.
After you’d arrived at the restaurant, you’d found out they’d closed due to a leak in the kitchen, you’d suggested going to a local bar and had lasted all of fifteen minutes before a drunk man in a too tight t shirt had knocked his pint over you and staggered off without apologising much to your ire. Jamie had wanted to go after the man and tell him to apologise but you’d just wanted to leave. Only ten minutes after leaving, Jamie had been approached by a group of kids looking for pictures and autographs and only a few seconds later, the skies opened and despite trying to huddle under a canopy of a nearby, closed cafe, you got soaked. Jamie, whilst taking photos with the young kids gave you a mouthed sorry but you told him to carry on knowing it would make the kids day.
Once he was done, he jogged back over to you, now shivering slightly and offered you his coat as you ran back to his
*
“You look really fit in my stuff. You should keep them.” Jamie remarked as you flopped down next to him on the sofa, now wearing a oversized tee and joggers that he’d pulled out for you to wear whilst your actual outfit was in his washing machine.
“Sorry the date was shit.” He added on as he ran a towel over his damp hair.
“Could have been worse” you shrugged with a smile as you dried off your own hair. “I’ve had worse dates.”
He let out a sigh and laid back on the sofa “I just wanted to take you out some place dead nice.”
“Jamie...that’s so sweet but you don’t have to. I just like being with you.” You shifted closer to him and scooted under his arm to rest on his chest. “I don’t care if it’s at a restaurant or like this…”
“I promise we’ll go out somewhere proper next time.” He leant down and kissed you softly. Dating you made Jamie felt like he’d finally got everything he’d ever wanted, and he was kicking himself for not asking you out the second he realised he had feelings for you.
“I could do that all day” You muttered against his lips as you separated briefly.
He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed your hair back before kissing you again. “Don’t think we could do this in the restaurant.”
You smiled against his mouth “well we could but probably wouldn’t be allowed back…”
“Maybe we can go back when they’ve fixed the leak and try?” Jamie made a joke and you playfully swatted him before kissing him again.
“Oh, Im holding you to that…”
***
Dating Jamie was so easy. Much easier than you’d thought. It was just like it was when you were friends but he’d always be taking your hand or wrapping an arm around you or kissing you…and of course you’d spend the night together rather than driving home after meeting up. When people had said date your best friend you’d never actually thought it could be possible.
Any fears or ghosts of your past that lingered over the bad experience with your ex were soon quashed by Jamie. Before you’d got together, you’d found it somewhat bittersweet that it was the former ladies man that you’d fallen for after swearing off dating footballers but now that you woke up to him every other morning and got to see him being the absolute perfect boyfriend to you, it just made sense.
So much so that eventually you’d caved and told him the name of the player you’d went out with before and Jamie had been thrilled to learn your ex was a goalkeeper and had made a promise to you he’d score against him.
You’d found it adorably sweet in the moment and incredibly hot when he followed through with his promise not once but twice, securing a brace and a win in the same game and making a big show of pointing at you and blowing a kiss into the stands. He’d almost been late in the next morning.
Jamie knew he loved you. Maybe it had started when you’d given him that chance in Manchester. You didn’t have to. If you’d told him to piss off, Jamie wouldn’t have blamed you but you hadn’t. You’d seen something in him, maybe believed in him deep down and now he was a better man, in part due to you.
The final game of the season was a whirlwind of emotions and knowing he’d be nervous for the game that could earn Richmond promotion back into the Premier League you’d snuck into the tunnel to see him just before he went out
“Good luck today babe.” You leant up and kissed him gently. “No matter what happens. I’m so proud of you, the player you are and the man you are.”
“Thanks” his eyes met yours “I, uh could have never done it without you.”
“Course you could. The talents all yours”
“I mean the…” Jamie paused, before looking at your shirt. He turned you around. “You’re wearing my shirt” he grinned at you and held up your arm so he could twirl you and see his name on your Richmond shirt. “Looks good on you”
“Course I am. Who else’s shirt would I wear.” You leant in and kissed him once more before the sound of the rest of the team approaching signalled it was time for you to go join the rest of the fans in the stands. “Smash it for me babe.”
**
Upon the final whistle, the coaching staff and bench descended on to the pitch to celebrate and you couldn’t help yourself.
You ran down to the barrier, dug into your bag to flash your work lanyard at a steward and ran on yourself, calling out to Jamie as you approached.
He caught you as you jumped into an embrace, quickly asking if he was okay after he was fouled in the lead up to Richmonds penalty. Jamie nodded.
“Yea yeah I’m fine babe. I’ve never been happier.” He looked breathless, a mixture of excitement, energy and adrenaline from the game.
“I love you Jamie.”
He kissed you deeply, passionately, caught up in the moment and not caring about the thousands of surrounding people, happy to be celebrating with you and the team.
“I love you. Next year I’m going to win you the whole thing”
#jamie tartt x reader#Jamie Tartt imagine#Ted lasso fanfic#jamie tartt fanfiction#Jamie Tartt#Jamie Tartt fanfic
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currently rewatching s3 and honestly... yeah no wonder Mike and Will had to be across the country in s4 for the plot to work they're too fucking good with this. even in s3 where they play a lot of plot support for El they're actually CARRYING the groups actions
s3 actually makes the difference between Mike and Will and the rest of the party Extremely clear. El, Max, and Lucas are lost at first, ranging from not taking Billy too seriously or just not knowing what to do
Mike and Will are the only one's with first hand experience. Will was possessed by the MF (Henry) and Mike sat next to him like this for over two days straight. Will has the intel and Mike has seen what possession looks and acts like up close. they KNOW what they're doing in s3 which is why they take the threat of Billy and the MF so serious so fast. even El has to ask them how possession works and how you can identify it. because despite having powers she still has no experience with this
that experience also gets highlighted in situations like the pool, where Max wants to wait and see what happens with Billy to know if he's flayed but Mike and Will know they have to act first
they know you don't wait until someone activates. the entire population of Hawkins lab was killed last time someone activated and they both witnessed it first hand. but the other's weren't there for that and don't really know how to deal with the current situation
also, Mike and Will are fully on the same page regarding the supernatural, which is why they're so efficient. Will gives his insight on the MF (Henry) and Mike immediately jumps to thinking of a proactive plan. the sauna idea took him less than 5 seconds
they would have completely fucked the plot of s4 over had they been in Hawkins i'm so serious. s3 literally shows us exactly why they couldn't be there:
Will can tell when Henry gets close (which s4 even confirms he is still able to do). had he been around in s4 he could've warned everyone if Vecna got to Max. no wondering when he's going to get you. Will would Know and he'd Tell you. they wouldn't lose time looking for Vecna in the Creel house, they wouldn't lose time scrambling to get headphones last minute
Mike is incredibly good at adapting prior knowledge to new situations which the Hakwins crew was Abysmal at. Mike can apply chemistry facts from years ago when it's convenient and can convert Will's possession into a working possession-test for Billy. but in s4 we have to suffer watching the crew remember that fire was the UD's weakness and then never use it on anyone but Vecna himself. a bottle of hairspray and a lighter could have gotten them out of being strangled by vines but they only had the clunky molotovs for Vecna. their planning methods directly contradict Mike's approach to plans
also. both of them act proactively. everyone at Hawkins lab died because they didn't stop Will in advance and s3 shows they learned from that. i honestly can't see a way for them to be on board with an "i'll be bait" plan. they directly argue against waiting for him to take action multiple times in s3. they KNOW that's how people die because it's too late when he gets here
and best of all. MIKE LITERALLY CALLS OUT WHY THE S4 PLAN DIDN'T WORK. word for word. you could paste this into s4 and pretend it's Mike berating them for the plan they just came up with
s4 makes it super clear that Mike and Will being absent is BAD with their friends directly commenting on how they're not here to help, and the last shot of the season being them returning to town speaks for itself, but s3 also directly shows us why. based on how they've dealt with the UD's/MF's return just six months before s4 shows how they would have approached something like s4. and at this point the two of them are too good of a team with too much experience to let them be around for it
(which would in universe most likely be Henry waiting for both of them to be out of the picture and out of universe be the writers putting them on the gay roadtrip in the weed van to be able to set up endgame s5 in peace without having them be in the way)
#byler#mike wheeler#will byers#those two are genuinely a scary team#even while on fighting terms they can push that away immediately and gang up on all their other friends for having bad ideas#i genuinely can't wait for the s3 problem solving byler dynamic to come back tenfold in s5
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Honestly genuinely a little mad about the ofmd finale. MAJOR SPOILERS ahead!
Because as it stands Izzy is bury your gays, it's basically the trope to a t, and the fact that izzy is surrounded by other queer characters doesn't really change that.
Very clearly repressed queer man -> does fucked up shit to cope -> learns about/semi accepts his queerness -> still needs to be punished for his crimes -> has to die. Like that's literally the formula for how queer characters had to be written in the past.
And look i've defended other controversial character deaths before (i did my time in the mcu folks!) as being satisfying/necessary from a narrative perspective, but this isn't. Because we've all seen that cycle above a thousand times before, and I'm just so frustrated because I thought we were finally safe! I thought oh I'm actually going to get to watch this fucked up little queer man be happy at the end, but no he's just dead, again.
Who knows, maybe buttons is gonna sea-witch him back to life in s3. Maybe izzy really is indestructible. I don't even think it's an unlikely scenario, the same way I don't think it was ever really in doubt that lucius survived s1. But if he's going to survive then I don't really know what the point of him dying in the first place was? Apart from a cheap gotcha moment a year on at the expense of the audience.
#ofmd spoilers#djenkins i'm in your walls (derogatory)#never trusting a straight man again#i could and probably will talk about this more#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#izzy hands#our flag means death
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go ahead, touch yourself (steve harrington x afab gn reader)
gif by disdaidal ^
plot: you and steve are new roommates and are still establishing boundaries
content warnings: graphic language, masturbation, fingering, oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, steve loves getting his hair pulled
word count: 2.8k
a/n: based off of some djo lyrics that make me absolutely feral... as well as this gif..... i'm losing my sanity over this fcking man
takes place between s3 and s4!
taglist: @cuddlingwithharry
(send me an ask be to added to a taglist!)
You were standing in front of your full length mirror. Your eyes scanned up and down yourself in contemplation, brow slightly scrunched.
You hear a pair of footsteps pass your room. "Steve can you come here for a sec?" You call, and the footsteps stop. You watch your doorknob twist and the door open at a medium pace; by the time Steve's whole figure appears on the other side he's putting a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. He was in a crewneck and cotton basketball shorts
"We're out of Cheerios if that's what you're about to ask." He says with his mouth full.
You chuckle, brow furrowing. "What? No."
"Oh, okay, what's up?" He walks in immediately and sits on your bed, taking another bite with a small slurp.
You turn to face him, holding your arms out out awkwardly next to you. "What do you think of this outfit?" You asked with genuine concern.
"Um," Steve's head tilts, properly scanning you. "Turn for me."
You can't help but feel a little embarrassed as you turn around until you face him again. He nods slowly, chewing, looking like he's really thinking about it. Until his face relaxes, "Yeah I don't know why I told you to turn I have no idea if that's a good outfit or not."
"UGH, Steve!" You groan. "I really need your help! I'm fucking nervous!"
His head cocks back in confusion, "Why?"
You sigh, "I'm going on a date, okay? And it's my first one since Jessie fucking," You swallow. "Broke my heart, so," You turn back to your reflection and look yourself in the eye. "I don't know, maybe I shouldn't go."
"Y/N, it's been two months since that asshole kicked you out of his apartment. You should go." You heard Steve from behind you. He takes another bite. "Seriously."
You contemplate his words. You had spent those two months in and out of a depressive episode. Luckily you had found a cheap enough place to move to after a week staying in Nancy's basement, but you could only stretch it with a roommate. Steve, who had still been living in under the roof of his asshole dad, gladly agreed. But moving just gave you a bigger space to wallow in. You hadn't even started unpacking anything besides your pajamas and your work clothes until about an hour ago.
"So my outfit is okay, then?" You ask him, meeting his eyes through the reflection of the mirror.
Steve offers a sheepish smile, "Again, no idea." He sighs. You can't help but chuckle this time. "But you look great."
You and Steve stare at each other through the mirror, both of you seemingly holding something back. You clear your throat and turn around, facing him again. "Okay, get out now, I have to jerk off."
Steve's whole body jolts at your words. "What?"
"That's what you do before a date, so the sexual tension doesn't overwhelm the evening." You tap your head with your finger. "So you can think."
Steve chortles; he thinks you're joking. He seems to be frozen sitting on your bed, holding his mostly-empty cereal bowl on his thigh, staring at you as you stare back at him expectingly. "Oh my god, you're serious?" He laughs in astonishment. "You jerk off?"
You crossed your arms, "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Uh, I mean," His eyes wander the ceiling. "I guess not. I just, I don't know, can't really picture you doing it."
You pursed your lips, "Then don't, weirdo."
Steve laughs again, but this time much more forced. The energy has suddenly shifted in the room but neither of you can describe how. Steve's still just sitting there.
"He's gonna be here in like 30 minutes, Steve–"
"Fine, fine," He throws his arms up in surrender, holding the bowl at the right angle so it doesn't spill. He stands and makes his way to your bedroom door, using his free hand to shut it.
You catch a glimpse of his face just as the door closes over it, and hear him mumble something that sounded like "Have fun." in a monotonous tone.
Steve sat on his bed, empty cereal bowl on his nightstand, staring at the wall. He didn't really know what to do with himself.
He could go into the living room and watch TV, but that would mean passing your bedroom door. And he really didn't want you to hear him walk past your door, knowing that he knew what you were doing, and think he was some kind of pervert.
Still, his mind kept wandering back to your room, your eyes, your fingers. His brow furrows as he swallows. He couldn't tell if he was thankful or spiteful the walls to the apartment were so thick.
But then he starts thinking about what you would sound like, and oh god, he's hard now. Why had he never thought about you like this before? Steve can't think of a good enough answer.
He waits for you to leave for your date to get in the shower and jerk off. But when he does, you're the only thing on his mind. Your fingers pulsing in and out of your entrance, becoming damper from your own arousal. He imagine it's your hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him, as you touched yourself. Then he thought about you feeling yourself get wetter because you were stroking him, and he's done for.
He cums from that thought alone. The shower water hitting his chest, his jaw hanging open, low moans echoing throughout the bathroom. One hand presses firmly onto the tile wall beside him for support, the other finishes himself off into the shower drain.
He washes himself down and gets out of the shower. Throwing a towel around his waste, he combs his hair back in the mirror. When he opens the door, he nearly falls backward at the sight of you standing in the hallway.
"Y/N, what the fu-" He catches himself and stands up straight, hand gripping his towel to keep it wrapped around him. "How– What– Um," He stutters, then clears his throat. "What are you doing here?"
"I bailed on the date." You say, your eyes struggling not to wander downward from Steve's face. You point at the bathroom, "Were you...?" You trail.
Steve decides to play it cool. "Was I what?"
You meet his eye, and you sense a twinge of panic that makes you hold yourself back from embarrassing him. You already knew the answer. "Nothing," You drop your hands to your side. "I'm gonna go to bed."
Steve opens his mouth to say something, but holds himself back as he watches you turn around toward your bedroom. He sighs, "Goodnight."
You glance at him from over your shoulder for only a second, "Goodnight, Steve."
About two hours had passed and neither you or Steve had gotten an ounce of sleep. Steve had spent it swimming in embarrassment, trying to think of the perfect thing to say to you when he sees you the next morning– trying to erase the thought that you heard him jerking off in the shower.
Meanwhile, you replayed the moment in your mind over and over. Your core twinging at the very memory if his muffled moans from the bathroom.
You didn't want to bail on your date, and you wouldn't have if you hadn't idiotically told Steve you were going to masturbate before you did. You and Steve never talked about stuff like that, which was probably why he was so surprised when you had mentioned it.
And when you lied down to do it, hand slipping into the jeans you had just asked his opinion for, you tried to excite yourself about your date. Peter was really cute, and you two had a tangible amount of chemistry. But for some reason, your mind kept going back to how sweaty Steve had gotten just a moment ago.
You weren't blind. You knew you were attracted to Steve. But he was Steve– He was basically a brown Labrador in a polo shirt. And he was one of your best friends.
But these salient points tend to cloud in the heat of passion. Steve was what got you to the finish line– you couldn't help but imagine if his fingers were down your underwear, fingering you senselessly as you writhed under his touch. You came quicker than you usually do.
That made it pretty hard to focus on anyone else. You realized this as you waited outside for Peter, but couldn't bring yourself to think of anyone beside Steve. Why had you never thought about him like this before?
You checked your watch, 7:48. You could probably still catch Peter at his house. You rushed to the payphone outside your apartment building, made up some excuse about feeling under the weather, and went upstairs.
Steve doesn't hear you walk into the apartment, even though the door is cracked open a smidge. You only start to hear the shower running when you get to the hallway. And then a low echo of a grunt.
You freeze in your place, stomach dropping to the floor.
The grunts turn into breathy moans, and you can't move. Your mouth agape, you feel your breath become shallow. Arousal is pooling at your entrance now as you hear Steve reach his climax.
You press your back against the hallway wall and catch your breath. And then you realize what you were doing and let out a silent chuckle. You should go back to your room, pretend you never heard a damn thing. But part of you wants to face this head on. You haven't felt this brave in months.
And then the door opens, and you see his face flush with embarrassment, and you chicken out.
But your mind is still there, in the hallway, even though you are now lying in your dark room in silence. You should go talk to him, you thought to yourself. That's what adults do about these things, they talk them through.
Steve hears your door open and soft footsteps stop outside his bedroom. He can see the shadow of your legs from the crack above the floor. He stands up.
"Steve?" You say softly, a gentle knock on the white wood of his door.
Steve opens the door, and you meet eyes. You open your mouth to speak, but the words get caught on your throat. Part of you is trying to find something, anything, to say. Another part of you is losing yourself in Steve's eyes. His hair is a little disheveled and he doesn't have a shirt on, just a pair of sweatpants.
There was nothing you wanted to say, you realize. You just wanted him.
So instead of talking, you leap forward, grab his face by both cheeks and bring it to yours. His arm wraps around your back, taken aback by the kiss for only a second before leaning into it. You push Steve backward and shut his door behind you.
The kiss grows more passionate by the second, sloppy and open mouthed. When Steve's tongue slides against yours, you moaned. A whiny, soft sound that sent a rush of blood straight to Steve's groin. You wrap your arms around Steve's neck, pulling him even closer.
God, he was a good fucking kisser. He put all of his focus into it, devouring you, moving his mouth against yours in a way that left you breathless. You could feel his hard-on against your stomach.
"I want you, Steve," You whined against his lips. "I want you inside me."
Steve, speechless and panting, nodded. He kissed you again, this time guiding you toward his bed until the mattress hits the back of your knees. He tugged at the hem of your shirt and you lifted your arms to pull it over your head. He palms one of your boobs as he kisses down your neck.
You take the opportunity to reach down and palm him through his sweatpants. You can tell he's not wearing underwear. He groans against your collarbone, his hot breath hitting your skin and giving you goosebumps.
He unbuttons your jeans and pushes them down your thighs. You pull away from him and sit on his bed, lifting your legs so he can tug them off. He tosses them to the floor, then wraps his fingers under the hem of your underwear and pulls those down your legs too. You watch him stare at your cunt with a hunger you've never seen in your best friend before.
"C'mere," You nudge your head in his direction. His gaze meets your's again and he kneels on his bed. You spread your legs so he could sit between them. He leans forward, using his arms to hold himself over you, and kisses you again. Still just as hungry and desperate, if not more so.
You feel a hand snake down to your core, as Steve begins to spread your arousal up and down your folds. You shudder at the touch, moaning against his lips. He pulls back from the kiss, "Is this okay?"
His fingers brush your clit and your breath hitches. "Mmhm," Is all you can manage to get out.
Then he pulls his hand away. Your eyes open to see what he's doing– He grabs your own hand resting on his bicep and guides it downward. "Touch yourself," Steve kisses your shoulder. "I wanna see what you like." He kisses your collarbone.
Your fingers rub your swollen clit, quickly getting lost in the sensation. Eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. Steve kisses your stomach, your hip, the inside of your thigh.
When you open your eyes he's resting on his stomach between your thighs, face hovering over your cunt. You continue making wide, sloppy circles around your bead.
Then you feel a finger pump into you and you gasp, "F-Fuck, Steve."
Steve kisses your hand as you work over yourself. He adds another finger and you're in heaven, head falling backward as his fingers filled you. Then you feel his tongue snake between your fingers, right on your bundle of nerves.
His tongue replacing your fingers, you bring your hand to his hair. And when his tongue touches your sweetest point, you pull hard on his thick brown locks, earning a moan from him against your skin.
Steve takes note of the spot and begins to suck, his lips wrapping around your clit in the most perfect way. You pull even harder on his hair and he sucks even tighter. His fingers curve upward slightly and your eyes squeeze shut as you cum, drawn-out and ragged moans spilling from your lips.
Your pussy is convulsing around his fingers, and he maintains his pace until you come down from your high. When he brings his face back to you, his lips are swollen and his cheeks flushed. You kiss him, tasting your own arousal.
Without breaking the series of kisses, you pull his sweatpants down. His cock springs upward as the waistband frees it, and you begin to pump him half-heartedly, distracted by his tongue dipping into your mouth.
Steve pulls away and guides his hips to meet your entrance. When he pushes into you, it's slow and dragged out, bottoming you out and filling you to the brim. Steve moans as he pulls back, and the sound sends you into a spiral again. You can feel yourself wanting him more and more by the second.
You clench around him as he pumps into you again, and Steve's head tilts downward to watch himself sink into your pussy. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N." He says as he looks back up at you.
You grab his face and pull him into another kiss. His lips trail to your cheeks to your neck, as he starts to go at faster pace. You dig your hands into his hair and grip harder with each thrust. Steve moans against your neck, hot breath hitting your skin.
You reach down to rub your clit the same way you did before, and you feel Steve's back hunch so he can watch your fingers. "Love seeing you–" He grunts, hips moving faster. "Fucking touch yourself, shi-it."
You feel another high coming just as his thrusts become sloppier. Your back arches under him as your second climax washes over you, your moans getting more and more desperate.
Steve tenses as he cums inside of you. You hold onto him as he twitches and shudders, his thrusts gradually coming to a hault.
He rolls off of you and collapses next to you in the bed. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath. You look at him, and can't help but find him beautiful like this. Caked in a layer of sweat, hair spiking in different directions, mouth agape as he breathed.
Then he catches you staring, and without missing a beat, says, "We should've done that years ago."
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things smut#stranger things one shot#x reader
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I'm completely obsessed with and emo over the way Wilhelm carries himself now that he knows Simon loves him, too.
(just a sidenote, but the duality of love and devotion towards Simon on one side and revolt and confident deviance towards everyone watching him, including us on the other.... these frames make me unwell...)
Like, that's absolutely the stance and face (and smile) of someone who's done with putting his own and his boyfriend's (!!!) needs behind those of the people who never cared about what he actually wanted.
Knowing him and Simon are on the same page now, finally, really is all he needs to face off against the consequences of living authentically and openly. He knows that together, they'll be fine.
I'd like to think his resistance is starting here already, facing off Jan-Olof with this stare and not pulling away as fast as Simon - who after all just offered to be Wilhelm's secret - is.
It's so beautiful to see how much this has done for him in the S3 snippet. I feel like it's the first time he's moving like he's not a stranger on his own home anymore, like he's now commanding the place, like he's finally calling the shots. Sure, there are and there will be adversities (“I just wish it wasn't because of this”), but Wilhelm won't let them get in the way of him and Simon loving and supporting each other.
“They won't start without us” He knows it's true and really isn't giving a fuck anymore who might get mad at them, he knows that they won't be able to play this down, make him deny everything again, they can't take back his confession in front of every single phone in all of Hillerska, and he won't let them try to, either. He's ready to fight, that revolution they started back in season 1 is now really picking up, and they're in it together.
And god, it looks like it's healing him so much, he's so confident now, Simon by his side really gave him the strength he needed.
Like, the journey from the way he's desperately holding on to him at the confession, seemingly drinking it all in, those words he probably hasn't even dared dreaming of hearing from Simon and do taken aback by his emotions to the way he exudes confidence, strength, and conviction even in the face of adversity... the development is so beautiful.
The combination of love and confidence is one hell of a drug, and Wilhelm gets both from and through Simon... I'm convinced they are going to be one hell of a power couple this next season.
#if this isn't very original I'm sorry; just had to let my feelings go somewhere <3333#young royals#wilmon#young royals analysis#??? a bit bold to call it that but I think it's the closest?#simon eriksson#prince wilhelm#oh boy all this talk of resistance and revolt is really getting to me#as a Camus girlie I actually probably need to write something about this at some point... I love Wilhelm facing the absurdity of his condit#his love for Simon being... “sa chose” yadayada... I'm here for it#I'd say il faut immaginer Wilhelm hereux but no need; in fact we KNOW he's happy#yr s3 spoilers#my yr thoughts
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Round 1 - Side B
Propaganda below ⬇️
Matt
Matt's faith in the show is really important and well explored; one of the first scenes of the show is Matt going to confession (or, well, talking to his priest since he's not really confessing at that point). Matt struggles a lot with what he's supposed to do; everyone's telling him to kill the villain and he kinda wants to, but he literally says: "I know my soul is damned if I take his life". He struggles with his faith and goes with his doubts to his priest, and it's beautiful—also when he finally gets a costume for his vigilanteing he chooses to dress as the devil, lol. (His priest tells him that nothing makes people run to Church faster than the feeling of having the devil on their heels.)
a lot of the show is about how he justifies his vigilante actions with his faith, and whether he's doing the right thing in trying to help people or just using it as an outlet for his anger. the literal first scene of the show has him in a confession booth talking to his priest (who is a really interesting character too). this is not the scene I was talking about but it's such an excellent scene with matt talking to his priest: https://youtu.be/XHZ3NbEIDdw
canonically catholic but dresses like a demon to be quirky
honestly i dont wanna type too much but i feel that matt is a great example of someone who battles with his faith because he rarely loses his faith but rather fights with why he was made the way he was and put through what he was. He believes himself to have the devil inside him but believes that God put him there
ok in the comics barring the most current run matt has Mostly been a non-practicing Catholic that very rarely actually does any catholic Activities but ends up falling back into the Mindset and very occasionally dramatically taking confession (ex. in that one issue where he takes confession, basically tells the father that he is uniquely terrible and is thinking about violently murdering someone and when the father says "you can be forgiven" hes like "AUGFH-- NO!!!!!!!!!!" and runs out) when he's gone through some shit. and i love that its so relatable
hello its me cct organizer. i have to come clean, i made this tournament because i need matt to win something. i dont think hell win the sadboy and he lost the ginger tournament and >:( hes my favoritest guy ever. Also @ who said he has religious trauma is wrong and i will fight u about it (nicely) on my main @usaigi
This guy so catholic he spends an ungodly amount of time just chilling in the church. And goes there whenever there is a moral conundrum about killing people being Bad even though it would solve a lot of problems and stop said people from killing other people. This happens every other episode. Matt is the Catholic Guilt Guy. There's actually a lot of catholic stuff in the show as a whole. Just a compilation would be like three whole episodes long.
Hes great hes catholic enough to not outrught murder people but not catholic enough to not fuck before marriage hes a bisexual disaster at all times hes besties with a priest might i add hes great hes my special little guy
his catholicism is a huge piece of his characterisation he was raised by nuns in a catholic orphanage, the first scene we ever see him (as an adult and not a flashback) is him going to confession, he is good friend with his priest and has regular debates with him, etc also in s3 he has a huge crisis of faith after he lost A Lot where he stops believing for a while and it's linked to his identity crisis where he actually wants to kill another person (a hard line he previously chose never to cross) and wants to be only daredevil and not matt murdock, when he is both and needs both to exist also when he was a kid his grandmother used to say "watch out for the murdock boys, they've got the devil in them" and it created a surprising lot of his issues
So he's both catholic in the comics and the show but he's More Catholic in the show. Like, raised in a catholic orphanage by nuns (ONE OF WHICH IS HIS *MOTHER*), second scene in the show has him in a confession box kind. Matt Murdock goes out and gets the shit beaten out of him nightly and also beats the shit out of other people and purposefully leaned into devil iconography as his theme. When his nurse friend says, he takes a lot of punishment without one complaint he says "That part's the Catholicism." It is a Core Aspect of his character (at least in the show). He makes me insane. Also the same chemicals that blinded him created the teenage mutant ninja turtles and everyone should know that.
They went to confession to a priest who they had saved as their costumed counterpart and the guy recognized them by the voice, proving that it's possible and everyone else is just dumb
he takes "i wanna fight god" to new and incredibly violent levels, while also being a sweetheart and a goofball
Actually strictly WILL NOT kill criminals. Goes wayyy out of his way to avoid it. Fights with the Punisher about it. Goes to confession booth after nightly vigilante excursions. Feels so much guilt. "How have you been holding up?" "Like a good Caltholic boy" "that bad huh" - actual conversation with his priest
So Daredevil struggles with his mission as a crime fighter because killing criminals goes against his faith. He makes it a point to not kill criminals, believing that even bad people deserve a second chance. This philosophy puts him at odds against The Punisher, who is a relentless killer. As a Catholic myself, while I love the concept of a morally conflicted superhero, I think the worldbuilding around Daredevil is lacking. If he struggles with violence and killing, why doesn't he pray to warrior saints like Saint Michael, Saint Ignatius of Loyola (a former knight), or Saint Joan of Arc? Why isn't there a community of other Catholics he can turn to for guidance, considering New York City has a sizeable population of Catholics? And why are the churches he goes to always empty? Doesn't he know that the Catholic Church supports the just war theory? I think that would have made his burden more bearable.
He goes to church and confesses to punching people and says "imma do it again can i apologize in advance" and the father dude says "no you're meant to stop now" and Matt says "no" and they do this everyday. I'm not remembering it properly but this is a canon interaction i swear
HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM AND WILL INFOR DUMP ok so. he is a vigalantty and he got named daredevil and he is an orphan and after the age of 12 was raised in an orphanage at a Catholic church and his therapist is his priest via confession abd. also his mother is a nun he has a whole mental breakdown over god and called Job a pussy because he liked god until he got better and liked god again he said "I'm dearedrvil and not even god can stop that now" and he's so cool
matt is a freakish little babygirl who was raised by nuns and definitely has religious trauma. i hate him so much (affectionately)
he’s literally fucking insane about it i don’t know what to say here. he thinks he’s chosen by god to go on some sort of holy quest to save hell’s kitchen. joan of arc ass.
i already know hes in by default j just wanted to give him a personal shout out i love this angsty catholic dweeb
how practicing he is depends on the run, but in my favorite he is quite literally confessing to a member of the last extant order millitant who happens to be a priest at a church in hells kitchen.
i love him for having the funniest version of a trope i usually hate (person gets into confession booth and asks forgiveness not for what they've done, but for what they're about to do). usually this trope just looks silly to me bc like. the priest would just say "i can't do that" and you would have to either awkwardly explain yourself or just Leave. it's funny when matt does it because fr. lantom is probably like "what are you gonna do???" and matt's like "lol. lmao. 😊 hehehe." anyway we love this angry catholic man who dresses up like the devil to beat people up in hell's kitchen
Harrowhark
I'm pretty sure you've already got plenty of submissions for her so I'll just say she was raised in what is basically a cult (technically a nunnery but let's be real) dedicated to keeping the body of the thing that will kill God behind the rock. One of their prayers is actually "I pray the rock is never rolled away". Harrow is extremely devout as penance for her earlier heretical actions in the tomb as a child (spoiler!) so the Catholic guilt really comes through
imagine being a catholic nun and you meet god, but it turns out he’s a twitch streamer from new zealand who became god because everything got a little bit out of hand. and just before you met him you gave yourself a diy grief-fuelled lobotomy with the help of your best frenemy. imagine how insane you’d be. now multiply that insanity by nine. that’s the fictional love of my life right there.
she meets god. she’s not inspired
she’s number one practitioner of space Catholicism. The locked tomb is chock full of Christian (catholic) imagery themes metaphors etc. just look at her she’s got a bone rosary
They're Catholicism with extra bones. Everyone is a nun. They have what is basically a rosary made from knuckle bones. They technically worship the same God as everyone else, but they're waaaay more focused on The Body in the Tomb (Mary) and we get a moment where we find out that while everyone else prays the equivilent of The Lords Prayer, they're doing the equivilent of Hail Mary. And they paint their faces with skulls.
She thinks leaving dry bread in a drawer is taking care of someone. She's in love with a 10,000 year old corpse (the same one they worship). She spent ALL NIGHT digging with her bare hands to make sure a field had bones every 5 feet so she could fight her girlfriend - I mean, greatest enemy. Spoiler territory: She's been puppeting her parents corpses since she was 8 years old. Instead of grieving her dead girlfriend, she gives herself a lobotomy. She makes soup with bone in it so she can use the bone IN THEIR STOMACH to try and kill them.
The author is/was Catholic and the entire series had heavy Catholic overtones. https://www.tor.com/2020/08/19/gideon-the-ninth-young-pope-and-the-new-pope-are-building-a-queer-catholic-speculative-fiction-canon/ A good breakdown of how it's Catholic
#matt murdock#daredevil#marvel#Harrowhark Nonagesimus#The Locked Tomb#cct polls#tumblr tournament#tumblr bracket#tumblr polls
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STWG Daily Drabble 2/1/24
ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @hitlikehammers who chose today's prompt. This one is for YOU!
Prompt: ��I Couldn’t Lose You”
Set in post season 4, angst w/ a happy ending
featuring S3/4 Secret Situationship Steddie - post breakup
Rating: G | WC: 1407 | Ao3 link
“I Couldn’t Lose You”
Eddie opened the door.
It was a reflex, really.
Someone rings the bell, you answer the door. It’s an ingrained behavior, unconsciously done.
He didn’t think about the fact that he wasn’t expecting anyone, or that it was past midnight and a decidedly odd time for unexpected visitors. In his defense, he didn’t know the simple act of opening his door would mean stepping into the past, and facing down the worst heartbreak of his life head-on after running away to another State to avoid it.
“Oh.” Eddie gasped, the sound seeming to echo as the man on the other side of the doorway sucked in his own sharp breath.
Pain lanced through his chest as he set eyes on Steve Harrington. The man he loved, who he hadn’t seen in over two years.
“It’s really you.” Steve said, blinking hard as if he couldn't believe his eyes. “I didn’t… I knocked on so many doors. I didn’t know your apartment number and–”
“What are you doing here?” Eddie interrupted, aiming for a bored disinterested tone, but the words came out a little too breathless to pull it off.
He couldn’t help it. The only thing keeping him upright just then was the death grip he had on the doorframe.
What was Steve doing here? Eddie figured he and Nancy would have been halfway to the altar by now, if not already there.
“I…” Steve trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor. He gave a wry huff of laughter and shook his head before looking back up with guarded eyes. “Just answer me one question, and I'll never bother you again.”
“Fine.”
Eddie’s heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure the other man could hear it. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to stand here and look at Steve’s unfairly pretty face and remember. It’d taken him so long to forget, to be okay after… after.
“Why did you run?” Steve asked.
“I didn’t run. I moved.”
Steve scoffed. “Eddie, you snuck out in the middle of the night. We were both barely healed and I- I woke up and you were just gone. I went to your place and Wayne told me you’d packed your shit up in the van and left. No explanation, no note, nothing!”
Eddie shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery.”
“You could have told me!”
“I couldn’t.”
“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his eyes beginning to shimmer with anger. “It was like you died, Eddie! One day you were there and the next you were gone without a trace. No number to call, no forwarding address.”
“Wayne knew where I was.”
Steve shook his head, expression hardening. “It was like you fucking died! And I don’t… I just need to know why.”
Eddie deflated. Any chance of keeping his aloof demeanor intact was gone under the weight of Steve’s gaze. What was the point anyway? He might as well tell him the truth. Maybe then he would leave Eddie alone to begin the process of picking up the pieces of his shattered heart all over again.
“I couldn’t lose you.” Eddie began with a sigh. “I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you, so I left.”
Steve furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. Trust me, I know. But after all that shit in the Winnebago with you and Nancy, I couldn’t just sit around and watch her take you from me. I thought If I left first, it wouldn’t hurt so much. I know that’s fucked up of me to say, as if you were ever mine to begin with, but–”
“I was.”
Eddie gulped, shaking his head reflexively. “No.” He breathed.
Steve's face softened and he reached out, cupping Eddie's cheek with an almost painful tenderness. “I was yours, Eddie, and I thought you were mine– or at least I wanted you to be. Looks like maybe I should have been more clear about that.”
“Then why did you say those things to her, about an R.V. and wanting six kids, and–”
“Jesus, is that what this has all been about?” Steve asked, dropping his hand from Eddie’s face and crossing his arms over his chest.
“There was also the eye-fucking.”
“Eddie.”
Eddie threw his hands up. “What was I supposed to think?! Here I was, falling head over heels in love with you, and the whole time you were dreaming about fucking off to Yellowstone or whatever with some picture perfect wife and your brood of equally picture-perfect children, like some non-musical version of the fucking Partridge family. Admit it, I was a detour. A glorified speed bump on your way to the life you actually wanted.”
“Baby-”
Eddie flinched hard at the use of the nickname, stumbling backwards out of Steve's reach. Horrifyingly he could feel tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Even more horrifying was the fact that Steve was following him into the apartment and shutting the door. Hadn’t he done enough, now he had to literally invade Eddie’s home?
“Baby, please-”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Fine. I-”
“Why are you still here? You got your answer. I don’t know what you needed it for but you can go back to your life with little miss perfect now.”
Eddie staggered to the couch, knowing if he didn’t sit soon his shaking legs would betray him. He pulled a throw pillow to his chest, hugging it tightly as he rested his chin on it.
Steve crouched down in front of him, but Eddie studiously ignored his gaze.
“What are you talking about? Nancy?”
“Or whoever the current little miss perfect is. I know you’re not picky.”
“Ouch.” Steve said, though not like the barb had actually stung. He reached out towards Eddie’s knee, moving slowly to give him every opportunity to protest.
He didn’t.
”There is no little miss perfect.” Steve said softly.
Eddie whined involuntarily. Squeezing the pillow tighter and tighter to his chest.
“It was true, what I said to Nancy in the RV. I did always have that dream. The part I didn’t get to say, because we were a little busy at the time, the part I would have told you if you’d asked me about it, is how the dream had changed. When you and I became, whatever we were back then, the dream became less about having 6 little Harringtons, and more about the person in the passenger seat. The one I really wanted to share my life with, the family we might build together by adopting our own kids some day, or the family we found with the little brats I can't seem to get rid of even though they’re about to graduate high school.”
Steve knelt down in front of Eddie more solidly, gently prying the pillow out of his iron grip. Eddie let it go. His eyes were locked on Steve’s as he let everything that was just said to him sink in.
“Say something, please.” Steve begged, taking both of Eddie’s hands in his.
“Is it still me?” Eddie croaked out, his throat tight as he fought not to cry. “In the passenger seat– is it still me, or did I fuck everything up?”
Steve smiled broadly, a few tears of his own escaping his eyes to roll down his cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you, all this time. I love you. Of course it’s still you, baby.”
Eddie surged forward, crashing his mouth into Steve’s. Their lips slotted together perfectly, just as they always had, as if no time had passed at all. Eddie threw his arms over Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, as Steve wound his hands up into Eddie's hair, gently tugging.
They parted only when they had to, or else risk passing out from lack of oxygen. Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s while they both caught their breath.
“I love you too… still… always. In case that wasn’t clear.”
Steve snorted the most unattractive laugh imaginable, but it was music to Eddie’s ears. He hadn’t heard that sound in far too long, and it warmed his heart almost as much as the kiss to know he’d caused it.
“I don’t know, Eds. I think you might have to show me again.”
Eddie was happy to comply.
He grinned, leaning in for another deep lingering kiss.
Thank you @penny00dreadful beloved friend and beta!
#stwgdailyprompt#steddie fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington/eddie munson#steddie fic#fanfic#stwg
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