#but in the end this game gave me like 7 slightly different versions of

[miyku]

[terapsina]

Ask Game: Agatha All Along:

Fandom: 1, 17

Ship: Agatha/Rio (Vidarkness): 7, 10

Character: Agatha OR Rio: 6, 7, or 8

(from this ask game)

Fandom:

1. ...the moment in the story that I started shipping my OTP from this world.

That whole scene where Rio blows in the door at just the most dramatic moment and the following throwdown fight made me pay attention. But this sentence? This sentence was a direct hit to alllllll my weaknesses.

It immediately gave me so much delicious information. Like, despite all that 'I want to see you burn... or hang... or drown' aggression? that this woman clearly was utterly gone for Agatha.

*be still, my beating heart 😍*

17. ...the world-building aspect of the story I have the greatest admiration for.

That SONG. I adore the way they used The Ballad of the Witches' Road in this show in so many ways. The way we kept getting different versions and the way they were so slightly and significantly different based on the purpose behind that particular version.

Like how the Sacred Chant version was all about the community of witches (and the way that hid the trap Agatha had used for centuries).

The way Lorna's version was full of a mother's unconditional love for her daughter and the lengths she'd go to for that love.

The way Nicky and Agatha's version was about their coven of two (and how even while Nicky was alive, the way Agatha had already kinda corrupted it even as her love for her son remained the one true thing about her).

Just. The way the song informed every aspect of the story... it's frankly incredibly impressive.

Ship:

7. ...the scene that I like to point to as proof that they're perfect for each other.

I could probably choose literally ANY of their scenes to make that particular point but I really like this one.

Like. Agatha has been angry and avoiding Rio for centuries. Rio has recently made it clear she wants Agatha dead (though admittedly knowing her nature this is basically at least 70% her wanting Agatha back).

But despite that, as soon as they know they have to do this particular ritual both of them know THEY are going to be the ones exchanging the brooms. They don't need to talk about it, or discuss it, or consider it, it's just... instinctual.

They are just always on the same wavelengths and it's both beautiful and really tragic.

10. ...rate the level of stupid they reach in their pining.

I mean... *murder threats* followed by...

*Agatha trying to claw Rio's face off* followed by...

*Rio painfully reminded Agatha she's never going to get her son back, a day ago* followed by...

*Rio saying she HATES ghosts* followed by...

(obviously not... no, she took a calculated risk on being able to continue irritating Rio for the next eternity).

Also just... we have one case of a dum-dum who fell in love with the literal embodiment of death. And another case of a literal embodiment of death who turned full dum-dum because she met a very pretty witch.

They're SUCH dumb. I love these pining idiots SO MUCH.

Character:

6. ...the scene that I think shows just how awesome they really are.

(I'll answer this one for Rio)

This is really boring of me maybe, but like.... how do you top a badass show-stopping moment like THAT?

Rio Vidal. Full Lady Death, everyone! *cheers and applause* *CHEERS AND APPLAUSE*

7. ...the scene that I think adds depth to their character or the relationship this character has with someone.

(...and this one for Agatha)

This scene just... shows that Billy doesn't just remind Agatha of her son... he reminds her of herself.

At the end of the day Agatha is a survivor, and so is Billy. And that both connects and differentiate them. And I just find that very interesting.

8. ...a headcanon I have about this character.

(...and Rio again)

Rio absolutely lied about being pulled onto the Road by their summoning spell. She's Death, she could have shaken that thing off with the flick of a pinky but was she really going to waste an opportunity that good?

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Jamie's Christmas Carol: Masterpost

Having returned to Richmond, Jamie is slowly but surely mending bridges and finding his place on the team again. However, as Christmas draws near he struggles with how to reconnect with his mother after distancing himself from her for the past year.

When seemingly sent a sign how to make things right, Jamie is determined to grab the opportunity with both (slightly clumsy) hands—even if it does involve fomer rival turned retiree Roy Kent.

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 / 19 / 20 / 21 / 22 / 23 / 24 / 25

Read on AO3.

Or read the whole thing below.

Prologue

This is a Christmas story. It begins—

—in December, in London, and with the whole of AFC Richmond spilling out from a theatre in an animated gaggle of waving hands and raised voices.

“Nah, you’re wrong, bruv,” Isaac told Jamie emphatically. "This shit's way better than Mickey's Christmas Carol." 

Jamie rolled his eyes at that insane opinion and set out to explain how Isaac was as wrong as wrong could be (but respectfully, like), while behind them Moe was explaining something about capitals to Thierry and Bhargava handed Dani a tissue.

After Ted had shown them Scrooged for their last team movie night, a heated debate on the best adaptation of A Christmas Carol had led to a seven night movie marathon ending with Isaac taking them all to The Old Vic for the stage version. 

Jamie, something of a theatre expert thanks to Keeley, had helpfully informed everyone that talking to the characters or shouting suggestions during the performance was not allowed, because even though that was still a fucking stupid rule – just imagine someone trying to introduce that to football games, the fans would riot and they’d be right to – that was the sort of thing Jamie did now: he was helpful. Was a team player. Gave useful tips to people before they made fools of themselves, rather than gleefully afterwards. It wasn’t always as much fun, no, but sometimes good in a different sort of way. And it wasn’t like he had much of a choice, anyway; the team had made that plenty clear when he returned to Richmond.

“All right, lads, I’m off,” he called to them now, giving up on trying to convince Isaac of the errors of his taste. Too cold for it. “Got me car over by Park Plaza.”

“See you tomorrow, boyo,” Colin said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Good night, Jamie.” Sam’s smile was still just this side of tentative, but it seemed sincere enough and Jamie couldn’t help but smile back. He was all right, Sam.  

With less than three weeks until Christmas, the London night was chilly as Jamie made his way through it. No snow, naturally – though not unheard of, a white Christmas in the English capital was uncommon indeed. Not that chances were much better up in Manchester.

Manchester. The thought of it brought a small frown to Jamie’s face. He knew he ought to go up there after the game on Boxing Day, to visit Mummy and Simon. Before he was loaned to Richmond he’d always spent Christmas at home; last year, he’d blamed the distance and the fixtures for not being able to make it.

It hadn’t been a lie, but hadn’t been the whole truth either. Secretly, Jamie had been relieved for the excuse to stay away. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his mum – he always wanted to see his mum – but he hadn’t known to deal with the crushing weight of all the things he couldn’t tell her; of all the things he didn’t want her to know. It had sat heavy and silent between them, a barrier that only seemed to grow higher and higher as he was sent back to City, as he fled City for Lust Conquers All, as he begged his way back to Richmond.

Now things were better, with him and with the team (and from his dad there’d been nothing, not for months now, and maybe this time—but no. Jamie didn’t want to think about Dad now), and it was time, really, to man up and make it up to Manchester. To come clean to  Mummy and have things go back to normal.

Jamie had no fucking idea how to do that. The idea of disappointing her left a sour taste in his mouth and his stomach churning.

Still frowning, Jamie unlocked his car and slipped into the driver’s seat. The Tube would have been quicker, but he hadn’t been in the mood to be recognized tonight. It was all right if people wanted to talk football, but at least one out of three still wanted to yell at him about Amy. Which was really unfair, because nothing on that show had been real, had it, and Amy knew that.

Amy had known that, right?

Didn’t matter now. Stupid shit, over and done with. Jamie Tartt had other things to worry about.

He pulled out of the car park, turned right, and began his journey home.

---

This is a Christmas story, and maybe it begins here too—

­—in a house in Chelsea, on that same December eve, and with Roy Kent keeping an eye on the oven and the time, while over by the table Keeley and his niece were adding increasingly intricate details to the gingerbread dragon-unicorn-princess-whatevers they were making.

Outside, an Aston Martin passed by on its way from Waterloo to Richmond. Roy would have recognized the car, had he seen it, and Keeley too (rather intimately), but the kitchen window was facing the other way and neither of them did.

“Look, Uncle Roy, this one looks just like you,” Phoebe exclaimed, proudly exhibiting a cookie man with curious antlers and a dour expression that did indeed make him look rather like the retired player.

Keeley laughed. “Ha! Yeah, it does!”

Roy growled. It was his fond growl. It was all right this, Keeley and Phoebe and the gingerbread covering every surface in the kitchen; all right in a way not a lot of things had been since he ended his career by sending Jamie Tartt flying to the ground half a year ago.

As for Jamie Tartt… He drove past the house without looking at it twice. He’d never been inside Roy Kent’s home; never known exactly where he lived.   

That would change, before morning broke on Christmas Day. Because this is a Christmas story, and those always come with miracles.

2.

Wrapped in his heavy duvet and with a soft pillow bunched under his head, Jamie dreamt:

He was trying to run over the pitch and catch a pass from Sam but he was all wrapped up in heavy chains and kept tripping over them and no matter how many times he got up and tried again he never came any closer to the ball, and the ball wasn’t even a ball anymore anyway, it was a giant roast turkey and it kept running around his feet and telling him to be a lion or a goldfish in what sounded a lot like Ted’s voice.

“Don’t know what you’re on about, mate,” Jamie wanted to say, but it came out “humbug”, again and again and then two children, creepily like they were right out of a horror movie or some shit, appeared and started towards him, and fuck that, so he turned and ran and the chains were gone now so it was all right and he ran and he ran and then he ran past Colin who was sat on the pavement looking lost and sick and somehow smaller than he ought to be and Jamie knew he would die if Jamie didn’t stop to help him but the children were still coming so he mouthed an apology he didn’t think Colin heard and ran on.

He found himself standing outside a brightly lit window and staring straight into his childhood home. Mummy was there, and Simon, and they were having a party seemed like, for the room was filled with people he knew, laughing and dancing, and there was Keeley, smiling and golden in a bright pink gown, and she turned to Roy, who took her in his arms, and as they kissed Jamie stumbled backwards and fell into a hole and as he kept falling he realized he was falling down into his own grave and all the while he heard his dad laughing and laughing and laughing.

Jamie woke:

He sat up with a start, blinking against the darkness of his bedroom as his heart slowly, slowly resumed its normal pace.  

Fucking hell. That had been a nasty one.

But, he thought as he climbed out of bed after a look at the alarm clock suggested there was no point in trying to go back to sleep, it was also kind of an obvious one, right?

Granted, it was pretty rude of his subconscious to cast him in the role of Scrooge, because while Jamie had maybe, possibly, not always been the greatest teammate or that, he’d never been a sad old miserly fuck either, had he? Never been one to say no to a party or been boring, yeah? So. Rude.

That said, it wasn’t like he was blind to the cymbalism or whatever. Scrooge had been a selfish cunt and made some not so great choices and ended up alone and a strange to his family, and hadn’t Jamie been thinking about his mum just yesterday and wondering how to sort things out with her?

As far as signs from the universe went, there was no mistaking this one.

Jamie met his own eyes in the mirror, giving himself a wink and a decisive nod. Like Scrooge (except younger and talented and shockingly fit, even with his hair a ruffled mess and a hint of darkness under the eyes), Jamie need to make things right with the people he’d wronged. Then he’d be able to go home and talk things through with Mummy and sort everything out.

3.

Jamie arrived to Nelson Road deep in thought. As he shaved, it had occurred to him that there was a tiny, tiny issue with his otherwise foolproof plan: he had no idea just who he was supposed to set thing right with.

Because the thing was, him and the team? They were good now. He’d apologised and even though that hadn’t gone over so well at first it had all worked out in the end, after a bit more effort and some suggestions from Dr. Sharon and he hadn’t even needed to buy anyone any PS5:s. All right, so sometimes there were just a bit of tension, like when he made a joke with a slight edge to it and people paused like they were judging whether or not he was being a prick or funny, but all in all, things were good.

He was even sort of friends with Sam now (though he guessed it wouldn’t hurt for him to keep an eye out for whenever the younger player did something good on the pitch and throw a compliment his way. And if Sam decided to stage a protest against another sponsor for some reason or other, Jamie would absolutely be right there by his side. Tape his shirt up and down and all over).

Just to be sure he had it right, he asked Isaac, catching the captain as he passed Jamie on the way to the gym. “Listen, mate, we’re cool, right? I mean, all of us, me and the team and everyone, yeah? We’re good?”

Isaac gave him a penetrating stare, as if wondering what Jamie was up to. “Why?” he asked slowly.

Jamie shrugged, fighting the urge to squirm. Who’d have though that Isaac of all people would grow into the role of captain like this, all authorative and responsible like? This time last year, he’d have been falling over himself to do whatever Jamie told him to. “I dunno. Just checking, I guess.”

Apparently, he must have looked and sounded convincing enough, because Isaac nodded again and clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re good, bruv. Just don’t be a dick again, yeah?”

“I won’t,” Jamie promised, even as he felt a small pang of regret. None of the lads seemed to really get how much fun being a dick could be and how much of a sacrifice Jamie was making just to be part of Richmond again.

Still, they had accepted him back, and that’s what really mattered.

But if the team was sorted, whom did that leave? Ted? Jamie glanced towards the coaches’ office, where the gaffer was apparently having an animated discussion with Coach Beard. Ted must have felt his gaze, because he lifted his head, and when he saw Jamie looking he grinned and waved, looking like there was no one on Earth he’d rather catch staring at him.

So probably not Ted, then.

“You feeling all right, Jamie? You look like you’ve got a stomach ache.”

Tom had arrived and thrown his bag down on the bench next to Jamie. Jamie gave him a brief nod of greeting. “Yeah, I’m good, man. Just thinking.”

Tom grinned. “Thinking, huh? Don’t strain yourself.”

Next to them, Babatunde chuckled, and it was the oddest thing: part of Jamie wanted to snarl at the slight dig, wanted to bite back with a cutting retort, put them in their place and show them who was top dog, because who the fuck were they to make fun of him—

Part of him felt warmed, a small thrill of stupid gratitude coursing through him. Because this was what you did with your teammates, yeah? Ribbed and teased, and it didn’t mean anything bad, just that they were your teammates, and you were theirs.

Back during his first stint with Richmond, no one (but Roy) had dared say stuff like that to him, not even as a lighthearted joke.

Now Jamie cocked an eyebrow and smirked, matching Tom’s easy tone, the lack of bite. “Don’t worry, mate. Could strain everything in me body and still run circles around you out there, couldn’t I?”

When Tom laughed and slapped him on the arm and Babatunde oooh:ed appreciatively it sent another surge of pleasure through him. Grinning to himself, Jamie shrugged out of his jacket and reached for the training kit.

“All right everyone, out on the pitch in five.” At the sound of Nate’s voice cutting through the din of the dressing room, Jamie stilled, boots in one hand. Turning his head, his eyes found the coach, their former kitman.

The man he’d led Isaac and Colin in terrorizing.

Ooh.

4.

”Coach? You got a moment?”

Nate startled at the sound of his name, upsetting the papers strewn all across his desk. When he caught sight of Jamie peeking in through the office door his eyes widened almost comically. “Oh! Um. Jamie. Hello. Do I have– Ah! Yes. Of course. I believe I could make– Hrm. Come, uh, in.”

Like Ted, Nate had a way of taking ages of getting to the point, but at least it had ended in some version of “yes” as far as Jamie could tell. He stepped into the office

Nate was eyeing him warily, which was unfair, really, because Jamie had been super respectful ever since he got back to Richmond, even though it was kind of weird to have Nate as a coach. Like, the man was good at it, surprisingly so, but it was still weird. Then again, Jamie supposed him seeking Nate out had never spelled anything but trouble for the latter before, so okay, fair enough, couldn’t blame the man for being a little skittish.

Belatedly, Jamie remembered the peace offering he’d popped out and picked up just down the road, from the bakery that Keeley swore by. “Here,” he said, putting it down on the desk in front of Nate. “Got you this.”

Nate stared mutely at the slice of cake in a dainty box covered with gold and ribbons. Jamie had paid extra for the fancy box. Nate liked boxes, right?

“It’s carrot cake,” Jamie supplied helpfully, in case Coach wasn’t familiar with baked goods. Not everyone had Simon for their Mummy’s husband.

“I… see.”

Nate didn’t look like he did see, but Jamie suspected it would be rude to point that out. Besides, he was starting to feel a little nervous, so he figured he better spit it out and get it over with before that got any worse.

He took a deep breath. “So, I wanted to apologise.” He glanced up at Nate to see how that was received; Nate still looked slightly dazed. Fuck. Jamie had hoped that maybe it’d be obvious what he wanted to apologise for, so that he didn’t have go into all the gory details. No such luck, apparently. He barrelled on. “I did some shitty things and I told others to do some shitty things when I was here before, and that was shitty of me, so. Sorry.”

Nate was still eyeing him warily. “Did… did Ted tell you to do this?” he asked eventually.

“No.” Jamie made a face. He didn’t just do nice things because Ted told him to.

Sometimes he did them because Keeley told him to. Or because Dr. Sharon, in that smart way of hers, got him to tell himself to. That last bit had gotten easier and easier. Sometimes he didn’t even need Dr. Sharon for it anymore.

“I just thought I should,” he added somewhat sulkily, feeling a little bit defensive. He was trying here. “’Cause I was a prick to you and all. So, I’m sorry about that, yeah? And like, if there’s something you need me to do that’d make you feel better, you can just tell me and I’ll do it. Yeah.”

He made sure to look Nate in the eyes for the last bit. Maybe he wouldn’t have realised that this was a good thing to do if it hadn’t been for the dream and him wanting to see Mummy and that, but he still meant it, didn’t he? He knew he’d been a prick. He knew Nate hadn’t done anything to deserve it, apart from being an easy target with no means of defending himself.

Put like that, it really did sound pretty shitty. Jamie fidgeted with his sleeves.

Nate stared at him for a long moment. Jamie couldn’t quite decipher the emotions flickering over his face. Coach opened his mouth several times but then shut it again, until finally he said, “Yes. Okay. Excellent. Thank you, Jamie.”

Jamie brightened. “So, we’re good?” he asked eagerly, straightening. That had been dead easy, that. Nate hadn’t even yelled at him or anything

“Yes, of course.” A nod and a small smile that looked a little weird on Nate’s round face. Maybe the man wasn’t used to smiling. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to doing it when Jamie was around, for aforementioned Jamie being shitty to him reasons.

Jamie grinned, friendly as he could. “Cheers, mate,” he said, reaching over the desk to companionably pat Nate on the shoulder before heading for the door. The other flinched slightly under the touch, which was weird ‘cause Jamie hadn’t patted him all that hard, but then again, Jamie was a world class athlete and Nate wasn’t. Jamie probably didn’t know his own strength. He should take note of that, make sure he didn’t hurt anyone by accident. Be anti-ethical to this whole doing right by people thing, probably.

Feeling rather pleased with the lunch break’s efforts, Jamie headed for the dressing room. He’d call Mummy tonight and arrange for a visit after Boxing Day. Everything was going to be all right.  

5.

Everything was not all right. Bleary-eyed and with the beginnings of a headache brewing, Jamie slumped down on the bench by his cubby, ignoring the excited chatter of the dressing room and politely (he hoped) brushing off Dani’s attempt at getting his in-depth opinions on Dani’s new socks. (They were decent. Little bland, but the colours went nicely with Dani’s skin tone.)

Evidently, making nice with Coach Nate had not been enough to appease the universe, because Jamie had spent the better part of last night staring at his phone, trying to work up the courage to call his mum without any success, and now he’d spent the better part of training trying to figure out what the matter was, also without any success.

It was fucking weird. It shouldn’t have been hard, calling her. It wasn’t like they never talked or anything, he’d spoken to her just last month. But it was different now, somehow, when he knew he wouldn’t just be talking to her, but actually talking to her.

Fuck. He’d been so sure that saying sorry to Nate would do the trick.

More out of desperation than anything else, Jamie stuck his head into the head coaches’ office. Ted wasn’t around, but Coach Beard was sat by his desk, feet up on it and with a book in his hands.  

”Do I need to apologise to you?” Jamie asked without preamble.

Beard looked up from his book, fixing Jamie with that unnerving stare of his. “What for?”

“I dunno.” He couldn’t actually remember ever speaking much to the man before, but maybe he’d managed to somehow wrong him anyway.

“Then I guess not.” Sounding supremely unimpressed, Beard returned to his book.

Well. Jamie made a face. It had been a long shot anyway.

He undressed; he showered; he changed. He agreed to a beer with Jeff and Arlo later that night. He wasn’t really in the mood, but he figured he still wasn’t in a position to turn down invitations. Wanted to show willing and all that. Besides, Jeff had always been easy company. Only one of the team that hadn’t thrown a fit about him coming back.

As he made his way to out of the building he passed by Keeley’s office, and paused. Keeley was by far the smartest person he knew, and dead good to talk to. She’d probably have some ideas about what he should do next.

Though the last time he’d gone to her for advice, she’d sent him off to Dr. Sharon and Dr. Sharon was home with the flu so that was no good.

He went into Keeley’s office anyway. She wasn’t there, but the room smelled like her, sweet and floral, and the familiar fragrance was both soothing and a little painful for the pang of longing it brought. He fucking missed her, in a way he hadn’t expected to when she dumped him. Back then he’d mostly been disappointed about not having the Keeley Jones for a girlfriend anymore and missing out on more of the frankly mindblowing sex, but the more time passed, the more he started to miss other things. How clever she was. Funny. Kind.

It was good, though, the way they could still be friends. He was pretty sure Keeley wasn’t the one he was needed to make things up to; he knew she wasn’t upset with him anymore, in spite of him not treating her as good as she had deserved. He hadn’t ever meant to hurt her, he just hadn’t thought.

In a fit of inspiration, he dug out his phone and after several seconds of careful consideration  put together a quick text to Amy.

Sorry I was a prick on the show. Didn’t mean to hurt you. Hope you’re all right

Then, lest she get the wrong idea, he quickly added:

Not trying to get back together or anything.

Somewhat to his surprise, he received an answer in less than a minute:

i wouldn’t get back with you if you begged me to

i’m engaged to david now

you’re a poophead but i’m paying for the wedding with the money i made selling my story to the papers so we’re square

Jamie’s gut twisted at that. As much as he loved attention and as much as he hadn’t any qualms about getting naked and fucking around on the show, the idea of Amy crying about how he’d cheated on her and dishing out all the sorted details that hadn’t made it into the final cut made him queasy. At least it meant they were cool, though, so he sent a thumbs up and tried to put it out of his mind.

He didn’t put the phone away. He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on “Mummy”. Let his finger hover over it for a long time, but it was no good. Apparently texting Amy hadn’t helped either.

Fuck, he wished Keeley was here. Even if she couldn’t or wouldn’t help him with his problem just talking to her would have made him feel better. Always did.

His eyes fell on the a life-size cutout of Roy Keeley, in spite of her otherwise impeccable taste, kept by the wall, and his lips curled into a sneer. Odds were Keeley was over talking to him right now, maybe even curling up next to him and petting his hair, though what she saw in that decrepit wanker was a fucking mystery. Sure, Roy was fit, but anyone who’d spent more than two minutes in a room with the man knew he was a miserable old twat, and if there was one person Jamie wasn’t sorry about being a prick to it was—

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. Hang on. Wait a minute.

Oh. Fuck.

6.

“Do you think messages from the universe can get, I dunno, scrambled?” Jamie asked Jeff when Jeff returned to their table with another tray of shots. “Like, the universe gets them wrong or sends them wrong or… ?”

Jeff blinked at him owlishly, looking slightly cocerned under the neon lights. “Don’t really know, mate,” he said at long last, then held out the tray hopefully, “Another shot?”

Jamie had already had four, as well as two beers, and that was more than he’d normally allow himself mid-season but tomorrow was an off day and he’d been thrown a fucking curveball by the fucking universe so fuck it. He took another shot, downing it with a loud “gwah!” as the Fireball burned in his throat.

Jeff looked relieved. He was a good lad, but probably hadn’t expected to be fielding exessential discussions when he asked Jamie to tag along for drinks. Which was fair enough, Jamie hadn’t expected to be having them when he agreed to come.

It was just the two of them at the table now. Arlo was off on the dancefloor with a gorgerous woman a good three inches taller than him. Jeff and Jamie had already written him off as lost for the rest of the evening; it was usually how things went whenever they went out together. Sometimes Jamie suspected half the reason Arlo even wanted to play football was because it made easier to pull. Which was good, really, because he was way better at that than he was at kicking a ball.

Jamie told Jeff as much, but then frowned. Had that been a prick thing to say? Like, it was a joke, yeah, but was it mean? Was it too mean? And how the fuck did you know?

But Jeff just laughed uproariously, and Jamie relaxed again. Jeff had never minded him being a bit of a prick anyway. It was kind of like old times, this, him and Jeff getting pissed and talking shit. He let himself enjoy the buzz, the beat of the music, and nodding along as Jeff moaned about his girlfriend’s uptight parents. For a while, it was easy to forget about his mum and Roy and all that.

But in the back of the cab taking him home a couple of hours later, his thoughts drifted back to the absurdity the universe seemed to demand of him.

See, the thing was, Jamie didn’t really feel like apologising to Roy. He wasn’t, when all was said and done, particularly sorry about being a prick to Roy, because Roy had been a right prick to him, too. Had been a prick first even, right from the moment when Jamie arrived and hadn’t done anything more prickish than walk up to him to say hello. (All right, sure, maybe Jamie hadn’t bothered to hide the fact that the Richmond dressing room was a fucking joke compared to City’s, just like the gaffer was a joke, and the entire club was a joke. But the point was, he hadn’t been rude to Roy, not until Roy ignored his outstretched hand and and walked off without giving him as much as one look, and fuck that nasty twat, seriously.) And it wasn’t even two months ago that Roy – on national fucking television no less – said that he hoped Jamie would die, and Jamie hadn’t even done anything to Roy in ages.

So no, Jamie didn’t feel like apologising. And say he did bite the bullet and spat out an insincere sorry, would that even count if he didn’t mean it? Jamie didn’t think so. He wasn’t sure on the universe’s stance, but his mum had never been big on saying things you didn’t mean.

The fuck did that leave him, though?

Perhaps he didn’t actually need to apologise to sort this? Even if Jamie hadn’t done anything wrong (or at least nothing worse than what Roy had done to him), maybe he could be the one to take the first step to build some bridges between them? Be mature and friendly like, to show that there were not hard feelings?

Jamie made a face. He wasn’t sure he liked this idea either. But he liked the idea of not sorthing things out with his mum even less.

Roy was a cunt, yeah. But he was also a sad old pensioneer who’d never get to play football again, and Jamie was young and fit and had his whole career ahead of him. He could be the bigger man.

Filled with determination, Jamie paid the driver and stumbled strode towards his house. Roy wouldn’t know what hit him.

7.

With a deep sigh of contentment, Roy bit into his kebab. One of the very, very few perks of no longer playing professional football was being able to indulge in whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. At the rate he was going, Hus would be able to retire in a couple of months.

”Big man Roy Kent!”

Roy stilled. That voice—

It couldn’t be—

But it was. Roy lifted his eyes and there he fucking was, Jamie fucking Tartt, in Roy’s fucking kebab place.

Roy wasn’t quite sure what the most bizarre part was: Jamie being there at all, or Jamie smiling at him in what didn’t immediately appear to be a sneering way.

For a moment, he was too stunned to do anything but stare. Jamie’s bright smile didn’t waver.

Then Roy said the only thing he could thing of, which was, “No,” and immediately went back to his meal, hoping that Jamie would – for once in his miserable muppet life – get the message and simply get lost.

Jamie did not get the message. After a brief silence (during which Roy pointedly didn’t look at the other, but could well imagine the stupid faces he was pulling while trying to make sense of the simply one-syllable word), the idiot plowed right on. “How you’ve been, you’ve been good, yeah? Saw you sitting here, figured I’d say hi. You’re doing Soccer Sunday now, right? Bet you’re dead good at that.”

For fuck’s sake. Roy seriously considered just getting up and walking off but the way this was going he wasn’t convinced that Jamie wouldn’t just follow him. He put the kebab done, and fixed the other man with the most baleful stare he could muster. “What the hell is this?” he growled. “What the fuck are you doing?

For a moment, he had the terrible notion that Jamie had signed up for another show, and that this was somehow part of it. Some kind of fucking Punk’d hidden camera bullshit or something. But no, that was ridiculous.

Then again, so was ditching City to do go on reality TV. Roy surreptitiously glanced around. As far as he could tell, there were no cameras.

That was the thing about hidden cameras, though, wasn’t it? That you couldn’t fucking tell that they were there.

“Um, I told you, mate,” Jamie said, speaking slowly as if he seriously believed that Roy just hadn’t heard him, “Saw you sitting here, thought I’d say hi.”

If this was a prank, it was a bloody ridiculous one. And anyway, Roy rather doubted Jamie had the acting chops to fake looking this stupidly earnest. It was oddly unsettling to see him like that, especially because otherwise he looked exactly as he had on Lust Conquers All; he wore his hair the same way, and wore the same sort of obnoxiously coloured and patterned clothes (albeit rather more of them). It was just the look on his face that was different.

Almost just the look on his face. Roy hated how he could tell that Jamie seemed to have filled out ever so slightly in the months since coming home, the overly and artificially defined sharpness at least somewhat rounded by a healthy athlete’s robustness.  

Fuck. Part of him wanted to grab the younger man by his stupid shirt and shake him and ask what the hell had he been thinking, throwing away his career to get naked with a bunch of losers on a fucking TV show. Jamie was an awful human being, true, but he was a fantastic players, with the makings of a truly great one, and yet he’d been perfectly happy to squander his totally undeserved talent and walk away from football, while Roy would have done any-fucking-thing for the chance to play just one more game—

Roy realized that he’d been clenching his fists hard enough to make his knuckles whiten. He  took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. Jamie’s idiotic, inexplicable, upsetting decisions weren’t his problem. Hadn’t been his problem even when he followed the prick’s every move on the telly with a mixture of terrible glee and fury.

So lost, Keeley had called him.

Called both of them.

At least Jamie was back to playing football again. And at Richmond no less – Roy had wondered, just a little, how the team had greeted the return of their former star and bully. With appropriate scorn and a good many rough tackles, he fervently hoped, although from the looks of the games he’d watched, they all seemed on friendly enough terms now. Jamie was even passing to the others on a regular basis; it would seem he had caved to the Lasso way of doing things at last.

And in doing so, he’d lost some of what made him such a unique talent. It had been becoming more and more obvious with every game since he came back: he was second-guessing his instincts, hesitating when he should go for the kill, and favouring being a team player over scoring goals, to the point where he was passing up on shots Roy knew the little bastard could have nailed.

Jamie was a prick, and that had made him fucking insufferable to be around and the worst fucking teammate Roy had ever had the misfortune to work with, but it had also made him one hell of a player. As of now, he was good at best.

Roy’d fucking die before he let anyone hear him say that, though. For his pundit gig, he had taken to simply refusing to comment on Jamie’s performance, or even mention him at all. The other hosts had eventually learned to accept that, mostly because any needling invariably led to Roy digging into them instead.

Apparently put off by Roy’s silence, Jamie pouted. “Come one, man, why won’t you talk to me?”

“Because you don’t deserve it,” Roy said, automatically but meaning every word. And then, begrudgingly and because he suspected there was no getting out of this without exchanging at least a few words (and because he was just a little bit curious), he added, “The fuck are you even doing here?” This wasn’t a part of town he’d expect Jamie to frequent. Nowhere near where he lived, if he was still up in Richmond, and with too few clubs and designer shops.

For a moment, Jamie looked caught out, but then his eyes flickered to the sign above the counter. “I’m here to buy a, um, kebab.” He rolled his eyes like Roy was the one being dense. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Roy echoed, voice dripping with sarcasm. Enough of this farce. “Let me ask you something, Jamie, did fucking around on that TV show finally bruise your last two remaining brain cells enough for you to completely lose your fucking mind?” He snorted. “No wonder City dropped you.”

At that, Jamie’s eyes flashed dark. ”Fuck you, you twat!” he spat. “I’m trying to be nice here!” Genuine anger in his voice now, and wasn’t that a rare treat? One of the most infuriating thing about the little prick was that he never seemed to lose his fucking temper; he pushed and he pushed and he pushed, and when challenged he got in  your face and pushed some more, but he never let that cocksure composure slip.

It had pissed Roy off to no end back when they played together, and it was with a sense of dark triumph he twisted the knife now. “Yeah, and you’re as shit at it as you are at doing anything that isn’t kicking a ball or being a huge fucking pain in everyone’s arse.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and raising one eyebrow deliberately. “Lasso’s a moron for ever letting you back on that team.”

Privately, Roy had to admit that that last bit wasn’t true – for all Jaime’s (very, very many) faults, Ted would have been an idiot not to have him. But it seemed to hit the mark all the same, because Jamie paled with anger and he opened his mouth—

—only to snap it shut and spin around on his heel. He marched out of the restaurant, leaving Roy to shake his head after him in narrow-eyed bafflement.

Well, that had been fucking strange. Wait until he told Keeley—

Actually, no. That was a terrible idea, wouldn’t it? Chances were that Keeley’d either berate Roy for not being nicer (which was absurd because he hadn’t even punched the little twat and how much nicer than that could he reasonably be?), or that she’d go off spouting that outrageous fucking nonsense about him and Jamie being alike again, and honest to God, if that happened Roy might have to actually slit his own throat, and he’d be damned if he gave Jamie fucking Tartt the satisfaction of, however indirectly, being the one to take out Roy Kent.

So no telling Keeley, then. He’d go home and cook her a fantastic dinner instead, and he’d forget all about this weird fucking day and whatever weird fucking shit Jamie was up to. It was none of Roy’s concern and he wouldn’t waste another minute pondering it.

Pleased with this decision, Roy got up and utterly failed to follow through on it.

8.

Half an hour and a cuppa in a quiet little café off Sydney Street later, Jamie had more or less calmed down after his failed attempt to have a friendly conversation with Roy Kent.

It fucking figured that Roy was too much of a miserable old twat to react normally to somone trying to be nice to him, but it was still a disappointement, especially after Jamie had gone to the trouble of getting hold of his adress (thank you, Richmond secretary Rose with a soft spot for sexy footballers), and spending a good part of his morning lurking around outside Roy’s house, until Roy finally went out to get lunch in some sad little kebab shop. 

He’d been right cunning about coming up to Roy, too, making like he was just there to get a bite, but then Roy had to go and open his big fat mouth and it had all gone tits up. It wasn’t like Jamie to lose his temper like that, but Roy’s words had prodded at something only half-healed and painful.  

He won’t be coming back. Nobody wants you. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.

(And even so Jamie might not have cared about that bullshit had it come from anyone else, but. Like. This was Roy. Roy Kent. There’d been a time when Jamie would spend hours just thinking about Roy Kent talking to him about football, about how Jamie was playing, and never once in those happy dreams had Roy suggested that City would be right to drop him. Never once had he suggested that another team would be stupid to take him on.)

But joke was on Roy, yeah, ‘cause Jamie was back at Richmond and playing and perhaps he was still not quite up to his usual brilliant standard, hadn’t scored as much as he used to, but at least he was playing, which was more than could be said for Roy.

For some reason, that didn’t feel as much as a triumph as Jamie would have thought (or would have claimed, had anyone asked him just just a year ago).

With a frustrated sigh, he drained the last dregs of his tea. He’d better get moving. Couldn’t be sat here all day like some sad sack with nowhere better to be.

He didn’t feel like going home, though. The idea of spending the rest of the afternoon alone and fretting made him like there were tiny little spiders running around all over him, their tiny little spider legs itching and pulling at his skin.

On impulse, he texted Isaac.

Hey mate

U doing anything?

Had this been last year, he would have fully expected Isaac to get back to him right away, ready to drop anything short of deadly disease or a family crisis to roll with whatever Jamie wanted. Now, though, it was a pleasant surprise when Isaac texted back almost immediately.

Hitting dover street market with colin for some christmas drip

Wanna join us?

It was stupid, really, the way the simple question sent a rush of relief and happiness through him. Fucking soft, something whispered in his mind. Needy bitch. Jamie pressed his lips together and did his level best to ignore it while he typed out a quick reply.

I’m in.

Be there in 30

I’ll buy you lunch.

He waited until he got a Yeah all right bruv, see you there, and then he pocketed his phone and headed out.

Isaac and Colin could buy their own lunches, of course – could buy lunch for the whole city of London, probably – but it was a way of saying thank you, innit. ‘Course, anyone should be happy to have Jamie with them on their shopping tour, for advice and the like, but with everything that had happened, he wanted to make sure the lads knew he appreciated them asking him to come. That he didn’t take them for granted anymore.

Maybe buying affection wasn’t always the way to go, but it didn’t hurt being a little generous when you were trying to make friends, did it? Who didn’t love gifts?

Huh. Now there was a thought.

Sure, Ted had shot down his PS5 plan (and Dr. Sharon hadn’t seemed keen on it either), but Jamie had tried doing things differently with Roy, right, and that had gotten him fuck all. It was time to do things his way, namely with a lot of style and a fuckton of money.

Roy probably wouldn’t like a PS5, though. Way too much fun for him. And treating him to lunch was right out, on account of Roy being an arsehole who couldn’t be bothered not to be an arsehole even when Jamie was clearly trying to be sweet to him,

What would he like, though? Apart from football, which no one could give him again, and Keeley, whom he already had (and even if she’d been Jamie’s, he wouldn’t have given her to Roy, partly because she was her own person and no one’s to give, and partly because Jamie would never, ever be stupid enough to lose her a second time).

He’d have to think on it for a bit, Jamie decided. But that could wait until after he spent the afternoon getting properly kitted out for the holiday season with Colin and Isaac.

Feeling quite a good deal happier than he had before, Jamie skipped down the stairs down to the Tube station and got on Picadilly line heading north.

9.

How the fuck could it be half five already? Keeley glared her screen in silent reproach, but it stubbornly refused to change to a more reasonable hour. She’d be late for drinks with Rebecca now, although Rebecca could hardly be mad at Keeley for being so hard at work that she lost track of time.

Yawning a little, she closed her laptop and shook the tension out of her shoulders. She was proud of Sam for taking a stance, she really was, but it had created something of a professional tangle for her, and she’d spent the past five weeks trying to deal with the fallout of that and find them a new shirt sponsorship deal. She was so close to finalizing something with Bantr, and wouldn’t that be something? Show everyone that Rebecca’s trust in Keeley was completely justified.

“Hi Keeley.”

She looked up, and there was Jamie, standing in the doorway with a new Gucci jacket and a small smile.

Keeley returned the latter easily. “Hey Jamie! What are you still doing here? I thought training ended early because you have a game tomorrow.”

“It did, yeah, but I’m here to pick up Dani. He had a late session with the physios and his car is at the garage.”

She raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, yeah? That’s nice of you.”

He shrugged, looking a little embarrassed, but looking pleased too. “It’s nothing. Gotta be a good team mate, right?”

“Yeah.” And she smiled again, a little wider and a little softer this time.

It made her glad, that he seemed to be doing so well. They hadn’t talked much since she dropped him off in Dr. Fieldstone’s office – she’d been to busy with work to talk very much with anyone – but from what she’d seen, he’d been making a lot of progress with the team, and maybe with himself too. The swagger was still there, of course, and some of the careless arrogance, but it seemed tempered – at least sometimes – with glimmers of the other, softer Jamie, the one that she used to be the only one allowed to see.

She’d loved him for those glimmers (as well as for the sex and the pure fun that Jamie could be, when he wasn’t busy being an arsehole). She was glad others were getting the chance to witness them as well.

“You working late, then?” he asked, stepping inside and absentmindedly picking up at the pink peonies on her low cupboard. “Or are you planning Christmas presents? Bet you’re getting Roy something really cool, eh?”

Keeley frowned at the abrupt question and the unexpected – and unexpectedly friendly – mention of Roy. Jamie sounded perfectly casual, but since when had he ever been casual about Roy? Back when him and her were dating, he’d said the older player’s name with just as much venom as Roy tended to say Jamie’s now, when he deigned to mention Jamie at all. (These days, Roy made a point of pretending to be completely unaware of his existence. Sometimes Keeley got the sense that he was dying to ask her about Jamie, how he was doing, but held himself back for vague and no doubt very reasonable and not at all stupidly macho reasons.)

“I hadn’t really thought about that yet, to be honest,” she said carefully. “I’ve been really busy with work. But maybe an experience rather than a thing, you know? Not like he needs more stuff.” Maybe he needed a little bit of colour in his wardrobe, but she’d yet to convince him of that. Not that she’d tried very hard; what Roy wore was Roy’s business, and he looked fucking fit in black anyway.

Jamie nodded along as she spoke. “All right, yeah, yeah, sounds good. Maybe some concert tickets, eh? Do you know if he’s still into Sade?”

What? “I didn’t know he was into Sade.”

Jamie’s eyes widened in what she could only describe as alarm. “Oh, no, no, not me either. Well, I mean, maybe I read it somewhere. But, uh, I don’t know, it was probably someone else, anyway. Steven Gerrard, maybe. Yeah, that’s it, it was Gerrard.”

“Okay.” For a long moment, Keeley just looked at him. “Why are you asking me about Roy’s Christmas presents?” she eventually asked. Was Jamie jealous that she’d been buying Roy and not him gifts this year?

“Uh, no reason. Just making conversation, innit? And I just thought, he must be hard to shop for, ’cause he’s a grumpy old twat who hates everything.”

“Roy doesn’t hate everything! He likes loads of stuff!”

Improbably, Jamie brightened at that. ”Yeah? Like what?”

He was watching her intently, like he really, truly wanted to hear the answer.  

This was fucking odd. Keeley cocked her head to the side. “What’s going on, Jamie?” she demanded, pulling out her serious voice to let him know she wasn’t fucking around.

His hands flew up, as if in apology or submission. “Nothing! Nothing’s going on, I was just— I mean— Hey, is that Dani over there? I, uh, need to go talk to him about… about football. Yeah. And I’m taking home too, so I have to go. Give my best to Roy, yeah?” He paused, scrunching his face up as he considered what he’d just said. “No, I mean, don’t give my best to Roy. I mean, don’t give him anything. Better not mention me at all, really.“ And he flashed her a quick smile, the fluster not completely hiding the shy affection there. “Bye, Keeley.”

“Bye Jamie,” she replied uncertainly, staring after him as he scampered off. What the fuck had that been all about?

Then her eyes fell to her phone and the time on the display, and she cursed loudly. Now she was really going to be late.

10.

”Thank you, amigo! It is very kind of you to come and pick me up.”

Dani’s smile really was something else, wasn’t it? It used to piss Jamie off, the way Dani always walked around beaming like he was in the best fucking place and doing the best fucking thing, no matter where he actually was or what he was actually doing. But it had always been just a little bit disarming, too, even when Jamie was at his most prick-ish, and these days he found it impossible not to smile back when Dani looked at him and grinned like being around Jamie was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

”Don’t mention it, man,” he said, keeping his eyes on the road as he turned left on The Vineyard to reach Dani’s riverside home. “It’s no big deal.”

And it really wasn’t. Sure, Jamie had had to go back to Nelson Road instead of chilling at home and getting ready for the game tomorrow, and now he was driving around half of Richmond just to save Dani having to take a cab and potentially run into Earl loving locals with a grudge, but he found he didn’t mind. Hadn’t even really thought twice about offering, when Dani worried about it earlier in the day.

“I really think tomorrow will be a win for us,” Dani announced, and then he nattered right on, about football, about a movie he’d seen, butterflies, and the way his cubby smelled in the morning.

Jamie merely hummed and nodded. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to Dani, it was quite nice, really, but he was too distracted by his chat with Keeley and his whole Roy project to pay much attention.

Dani was fully capable of carrying a conversation all on his own, but eventually he must have noticed that Jamie didn’t contribute his fair share, because he turned to him with a small frown and asked, “Are you feeling well? You are being very quiet.”

Jamie opened his mouth to tell the other that it was nothing, he was fine, just a bit tired, yeah, but then he hesitated. He was struggling a bit with how to deal with Roy, and talking to Keeley hadn’t helped as much as he’d thought it would. Maybe Dani would have some ideas? Of all the players on the team, he was the one Jamie trusted the most not to take the piss, and not to ask any awkward or probing questions.

He still wasn’t really used to asking for help, though. It made him feel weird and vulnerable, made him want to squirm and say something sharp just to make the feeling go away.

He glanced at Dani; Dani was watching him patiently, nothing but friendly and earnest concern on his face.

All right then.

”If you want to make someone happy,” Jamie began, “but you don’t want them to know it’s you doing it and you’re not sure what they’d like, how would you do it?”

Dani lit up and gave Jamie a wink that was probably supposed to be sly. “Ooh, are you wooing a woman?”

“What? No!” Jamie made a face. He wasn’t wooing Roy, for fuck’s sake, he was just doing what the stupid universe wanted him to do so he could spend Christmas with Mummy. “There’s no woman, all right? Just this person I wanna cheer up, but without them knowing it’s me, yeah?”

”Ah, like Secret Santa?”

”Uh, I don’t know?” He considered it for a moment. “A bit like Secret Santa, yeah,” he condeded.

Jamie didn’t really get the point of Secret Santa – why spend time and money giving someone something nice if they weren’t even going to know it was from you? That was just weird, wasn’t it? But in the case of Roy he didn’t have much choice; if Roy knew the nice stuff were from him, he’d probably dump it right into the Thames. Wanker.

“You can send them gifts to their house,” Dani suggested. “Or, if you know where they are going to be, you can let one of those little airplane with big signs fly over the place with a nice message for them.”

Now they were talking! “You’d have to put their name, though,” Jamie noted. “Or they won’t know it’s for them. Don’t want any old grandma thinking it’s their message, do I.”

“People should send nice messages to old grandmas more often, though,” Dani pointed out, and yeah, all right, fair enough.

He’d been right to ask Dani for help, Jamie decided, as he pulled up by the other’s small mansion of a house. It was just a pity it hadn’t been a longer ride.

“Do you want to come inside?” Dani offered, as if on cue. “Mi madre left me some pavo navideño when she visited a few weeks ago. We usually eat it on Christmas Eve but we can heat some of it for dinner now and come up with more ideas?”

That didn’t sound half bad, actually. “Yeah, sound,” Jamie said. “Thank you,” he added after a moment’s consideration.

Dani’s smile was as brilliant as ever. “You are welcome, Jamie Tartt.”

---

When Jamie left two hours later, he had with him a container filled with Mama Roja’s properly lush stuffed turkey and a long list of really clever ideas on how to turn Roy Kent’s December into the jolliest time ever. Game on, old man. Prepare to be fucking happy.

11.

“Babe, that smells amazing!”

Keeley’s arms wrapped around him from behind, and Roy smiled, unseen. “Careful,” he told her gruffly as he took the pan of shashuka off the stove. “It’s hot.”

“Mmm, isn’t only thing that is.” She waited until he’d put the food down on the table before she slipped into his arms, claiming a kiss. “What are we having today?”

In spite of Keeley being the one with an actual time to keep in the morning, Roy was usually the first one up. Old habits, and he liked having breakfast ready for her when she came down. It made him feel useful, being able to do that for her, and the way she smiled at him over her avocado toast with scrambled eggs or peanut butter blueberry smoothie warmed him in a way not much else did lately. Or ever had, really. Roy Kent had never been what most people would call an exceedingly happy person.

Even by his low standards, though, the past six months had been fucking bleak. Losing football, even if he had always known it was coming, even if it had always been just a matter of time, was like having not only his heart but his lungs and brain and every-fucking-thing ripped out, leaving him an empty, useless shell, stumbling around the void where playing once had been. If it hadn’t been for Keeley, and maybe Phoebe, he wasn’t sure he’d still—

“It’s shakshuka,” he told Keeley. “Eggs in tomato sauce with feta cheese and spices and herbs and shit.”

“Sounds good.”

It was good. Between them they polished off the entire pan, and then Keeley kissed him goodbye and was off and Roy was left with the cleaning up and nothing much to do for the rest of the morning. In the afternoon there were a couple of games he’d watch in preparation for this week’s Soccer Saturday, but until then, he was free as a bird.

Free as a bird with a broken wing limping around on the ground and doing fuck all for either himself or anyone else.

Roy filled up the dishwasher, and took out the trash. Scrolled through his phone looking for new breakfast recipes to try. Read two chapters of The Girl Who Takes an Eye for an Eye. Read a recap of yesterday’s La Liga games.

At least Keeley had been right about the pundit gig. It was fucking stupid, but being around football again, even in this diminished capacity, was hell of a lot better than trying to distance himself from it entirely (coaching Phoebe’s team aside). Might even have been borderline fun, if it weren’t for Cartrick’s ignorant, pointless drivel, and the fact that it regularly saw Roy subjected to both the sight and discussion of Jamie Tartt.

Ever since their bizarre run-in at Hus’, Roy had, annoyingly and in spite of his best intentions, been unable to excise Jamie from his thoughts. He didn’t give a shit about the little prick, and yet he couldn’t stop wondering what the fuck had been going on with him at the kebab shop. (Why the fuck had he left City? How the fuck had he convinced anyone at Richmond he wasn’t a total wanker anymore? When was Lasso going to realize that you couldn’t play Jamie like he was playing Jamie?)

Good fucking thing Richmond were in the Championship, which at least meant that the pundits spent way less time on their games (and certain prick players) than they would have if they still played in the League.

The doorbell rang.

“Delivery for Mr. Kent,” a chirpy young woman with a non-descript parcel in her arms called when Roy opened the door with a scowl on his face.

Roy’s eyes narrowed. Had Keeley taken to buying things online for him now? Roy sure as hell hadn’t ordered anything lately, and who else would think to have shit delivered here instead of Roy’s actual house?

“Who is it from?” he asked, but the woman just shrugged. It didn’t say.

Roy signed for the parcel, and carried it inside. He placed it on the kitchen table and stared at it for a moment. Was this some weird fan or stalker bullshit? There’s been some of that, people sending him all sorts of stuff throughout the years, but usually to the club rather than his house, and usually back when he was still with Chelsea and on top of the fucking world.

He called Keeley. “Did you buy me something online and have it sent to your place?”

“No? Why, did you get a delivery?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. Talk to you later. Love you.”

He hung up. Stared at the parcel some more, and then he shrugged. Fuck it. Wouldn’t be much of a loss anyway, if it turned out to be a bomb and he was blown to bits.

Inside the parcel was a flat square box, carefully wrapped in royal blue with a white bowtie. Chelsea colours, Roy’s brain immediately supplied. Maybe it really was an old fan, who somehow hadn’t gotten the memo that Roy was fucking finished. A has-been. Just some guy named Roy.

For a moment, he was tempted to just throw the whole thing out and forget about it. But curiosity got the better of him, and he tore away the wrapping paper, to reveal…

… a jigsaw puzzle? That’s what the box proclaimed anyway, only it made no sound at all when he shook it, and the picture on it, while familiar, sure as hell wasn’t any Roy had ever seen on a jigsaw before.

And he would have seen it, had it ever been produced. It was him, long-haired and dressed in Chelsea blue, caught in the motion of scoring the prettiest goal of his career, against United back in 2014.

Roy stared at it for a long time, letting his finger trace the curve of the ball as it flew towards the goal. Then he opened the box, and found it filled with bubble wrap. Presumably someone had taken the time to use it to fill up the box, to make sure the smattering of puzzle pieces he discovered in a neat bag underneath didn’t give the surprise away. Stuck to the bag was a small, printed note, which simply read:

3000 pieces is a challenge. You as good at jigsaw puzzles as you were at playing football?

Roy snorted. Football was an art, sweat and tears and bloody hard work. How difficult could a jigsaw puzzle be?

Still, it was one hell of a gift. It must have been Keeley, right? In spite of her denying it, who else would have a, bothered to get Roy anything at all, and b, come up with something so thoughtful?

She really hadn’t sounded like she knew what he was talking about on the phone, though.

He’d save that mystery for later. Right now, he had 3000 puzzle pieces to show who was boss.

12.

It took Roy the better part of four days to finish the puzzle. To his surprise, he enjoyed it, and initially rather wished he knew whom he had to thank for the thoughtful gesture. Then things took a turn for the crazy, and he rather wished he knew whom to grab by their shirt and demand what they hell they were up to.

On Wednesday, he took Keeley out for dinner to celebrate her successful closing of the Bantr deal, and before they even had time to order, a bottle of Tattinger arrived at the table, courtesy of someone who wished “the best midfielder of all time a very nice evening (and congratulations Keeley, you’re a superstar too)!”. Roy’s increasingly loud inquiries about whom had sent it over nearly got them thrown out of the restaurant.

On Thursday unexpected sleet fell over London, covering everything in a heavy wetness that froze as temperatures fell. Roy had spent the afternoon Christmas shopping, and as he slipped and slided over the slick pavement back to his car, he was already cursing how bloody fucking difficult scraping the ice off the windshield was going to be. But when he arrived at the parking lot, it had already been taken care of, by an unseen someone who had then seen fit to scamper off and leave Roy equally disgruntled and grateful.

When Roy came back from the TV studio on Sunday someone had decked his entire front porch with Christmas lights and decorations in black and silver, with red accents. It actually looked pretty nice – which didn’t change the fact that it was an utterly bonkers thing to do.

There were other gifts as well. On Tuesday he received a bottle of Macallan from 1982, the year of his birth, and on Friday it was a gift card for a massage in a luxury spa in Mayfair. Roy considered regifting the latter to his sister, but ended up spending a fucking glorious afternoon there himself. Though he did regular physio for his knee, he hadn’t had a massage since he quit football and lost access to the Richmond therapists; it had just never occurred to him to book a private appointment. It would now.

He asked Keeley repeatedly if she wasn’t the one doing it all, but she consistenly denied it, to the point where she forbade him from asking again, urging him to talk to the police if he was concerned about a stalker.

Roy wasn’t concerned, exactly. He was confused more than anything, both about what was actually going on, and about his own feelings on the matter. There was no denying that whoever was behind this spent stupid amounts of time and money on it, and that they seemed to know a great deal about Roy; both what he might enjoy, and where he was at any given time. That was objectively creepy and weird, and Roy had found himself looking over his shoulder more than once in the past week.

At the same time, there was a part of Roy that relished the attention, and had secretly started to look forward to each day’s new surprise. It brougth a sense of excitement to his otherwise painfully dull days when Keeley was away at work.

But yeah, Roy admitted to himself as he sipped coffee and watched Phoebe skate around the ice rink in Canada Square Park on Monday, it was fucking strange too. He probably should be more concerned. Maybe he ought to—

“Uncler Roy, look!”

Phoebe had come up next to him, and was pointing up into the the grey London sky. Roy followed her outstretched finger and gave a sharp curse. Above them a small airplane flew across the park, trailing a banner reading ROY KENT YOU ARE A LEGEND behind it.

Yeah, Roy thought while handing Phoebe a quid for swearing, he absolutely ought to find out who was behind this.

13.

”All right, listen up,” Roy said, glaring down at his sister, Keeley and Phoebe on the couch in his sister’s sitting room. “I’m not kidding around, all right? If either of you are the one pulling fu— fudging Twelve Days of Christmas on me, I need you to tell me right effing now, because if it’s not you, then I need to figure out what the he— heck is going on, because this sh— stuff is getting out of hand.”

His sister raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. ”Roy, I work irregular and insane hours. I love you, but do you really think I have the time for anything like this?”

“Yeah, me too, babe,” Keeley chimed in. “And I mean, hiring a banner plane? That’s gotta be like at least a thousand quid, and you know I think you are an absolute legend, I really do, but I’m not going to spend that much money writing it across the sky. I’d much rather tell you in person.”

She would, too. Did, on a regular basis. Roy accepted her denial with a curt nod, and turned his stare on Phoebe.

“Roy,” Sophia said exasperatedly, “Phoebe is six.”

“Yes, Uncle Roy, I don’t think I could do all that.”

“Yeah, but you could have had an accomplice.”

“Roy.”

“Yeah, all right,” he muttered. But he’d had to ask, hadn’t he? Of all the people in the world, he was pretty sure Phoebe was the person most likely to want to do this kind of stuff for him, even if she didn’t quite have the means yet.

“Did you talk to Ted?” Keeley asked. “Sounds like it might be right up his alley, yeah? Always thought he’d make a great Father Christmas.”

Roy grunted. “Called him this morning. He said it wasn’t him and spouted a bunch of American nonsense at me. I think he was telling the truth.”

But who did that leave, then? Was it really just some random and insane fan? Feeling oddly deflated, Roy sat down on the couch next to Keeley, who immediately took his hand. “I’m sorry, babe,” she said. “It’s really messing with your head, huh? Not that it shouldn’t, it is fucking – sorry Phoebs – weird. And a bit creepy. Maybe you should talk to the police? Or I could talk to Rebecca, see if she has any ideas?”

”I don’t fu— I don’t know. Because I don't think they're about to take an axe to my head or anything. It’s all just so… random and thoughtful at the same time. This morning, a bunch of carollers knocked on my door but instead of Christmas songs they burst into a Sade medley!”

Unexpectedly, Keeley’s grip on his hand tightened. “Did you say a Sade medley?” she asked slowly.

Roy turned to look at her. “Yeah. Why?”

“Um,” Keeley said, looking both confused and a little worried. “This is going to sound mad, babe, but I think that maybe it’s… Jamie.”

Roy barked a laugh. Then he noticed that Keeley wasn't smiling, that there was no teasing twinkle in her eyes.

Roy stared at her. Then he stared at her. And then he stared at her some more. Then he got up at started pacing.

“What,” he said.

And: “That’s not mad, that’s so far beyond absolutely batshit crazy that if it went supernova the light from that explosion wouldn’t reach batshit crazy in a billion fucking years.”

(“That’s a quid, Uncle Roy.”)

 “Why the fuck would Jamie Tartt send me fucking gifts and decorate my porch and send fucking carollers after me?”

(“That’s another three.”)

“I knew something was up with him, it’s another fucking TV show, isn’t it, the little idiot’s signed up for another one, it’s a fucking prank, and we need to check the entire house for cameras. Jesus fucking Christ, I’m going to fucking strangle the muppet, I will actually fucking kill him.”

(“I think I lost count. Can we say ten?”)

“Babe,” Keeley said, rising from the couch to put a hand on Roy’s shoulder. “You need to calm down, yeah? For one, you’ll go bankrupt if you keep swearing like this around Phoebe, and for another, I— Listen, I have no clue what Jamie is up to – if it is Jamie, we don’t know that, but if it is, I don’t… I don’t think he means any harm.”

“It’s Jamie,” Roy said darkly. “Of course he means harm.” But even as he said it, he remembered the expression on Jamie’s face in the restaurant. Maybe… “What the heck is he playing at?” he asked the room at large.

“I don’t know, babe. But we’ll find out, all right?”

14.

Another fucking draw. At least they’d actually scored in this one (Obisanya 26, Tartt 74), but what good was that when they let the other team net the ball just as many times? Jamie stared morosely at his Lynx collection, trying to muster the energy to change out of his kit. He was sweaty, his hair was a mess, and his side ached dully from a nasty tackle near the final whistle; taking a shower would be heaven. But he was too tired to move.

It wasn’t so much the game that left him exhausted, even though it sure took its physical toll. The past ten days had been a mad flurry of setting up surprise after surprise for Roy, and that had involved more gift hunting, eavesdropping and secret sneaking around than Jamie had ever thought he’d get up to. Between that and football and team Christmas bonding there’d barely been time for sleeping and eating.

And after all that, he still hadn’t called Mummy. He’d tried to, every single night, but he just. couldn’t. do. it. Apparently his efforts still weren’t up to scratch, which was baffling, to be honest: how fucking sad was Roy that not even the truly fanastic stuff Jamie had pulled for him had made him happy? Christmas was only days away, and Jamie was running out of both ideas and time. Could he get Sade to actually write Roy a song… ? Might be too much, though, even if he managed to figure out how to sort it. It’d give the bugger a heart attack or something, and that would make Keeley sad and probably not count as him doing a nice thing, even if it’d be dead unfair of the universe to blame him for Roy being a frail old man.

Perhaps he could invite Dani out for another brainstorming session; it had worked a treat last time. Jamie was pretty sure that Roy had appreciated his gifts and gestures, from what peeks he’d managed to sneak of the man. Just not appreciated them enough, apparently.

It also seemed like maybe Roy was getting a tiny bit suspicious. Yesterday, he’d kept turning his head every this way and that, and sometimes stopping dead in the street and whirling around, looking a little wild-eyed. At one point Jamie had had to dive behind a couple of large rubbish bins to avoid detection. That was a pair of perfectly ripped trousers he’d never wear again.

Fuck, but he wished that—

“Jamie, are you feeling well?”

Jamie turned to look at Sam, who had stopped by his cubby, already changed and with a concerned pinch to his kind face. He looked just slightly, slightly hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure if his question would yield an answer or something sharp and snide. Jamie made an effort to smile. “Yeah, bruv, I’m sound. Just, you know, tired of not winning.

“It is disappointing. But, thanks to you it was a draw instead of a loss. And it was a very nice goal too.”

At the praise, Jamie felt his smile grow easier, more sincere. It had been a very nice goal, hadn’t it? Good of Sam to notice. 

“Yeah, yeah, thanks mate. And yours were great too, you know?” he added, remembering what Dr. Sharon had said about how acknowledging other people’s accomplishments did not diminsh Jamie’s own.

The way Sam’s lips curled into a wide grin, mirroring Jamie’s own, and the way the sight of it made Jamie feel warm had him thinking she was onto something there.

“Thanks, Jamie,” Sam said simply, and gave him a friendly nod before walking back to his own cubby.

Still smiling, Jamie finally began to undress.

---

Once he was showered and changed and Ted had somehow talked them all into feeling determined and hopeful rather than dejected, Jamie hefted his bag and headed for the door. On his way out he passed by Keeley and Rebecca Welton, offering a smile to the former and a polite nod to the latter.

Keeley lit up when she saw him (and fuck, but that still did things to him, didn’t it?). “Hi, Jamie,” she said. “Listen, I was wondering if you could stop by my place tomorrow? I wanted to talk to you about some new tweaks to your brand, now that you’re playing again?”

Jamie perked right up at that. Talking to Keeley and discussing his brand? Fucking brilliant. Much better than spending another day trying to figure out what would possible make Roy Kent happy enough to appease the universe into letting Jamie call his mum.

He’d been working hard. He deserved a little break. Besides, hanging out with Keeley at her place might well yield some new Roy related ideas.

“Yeah, mint, yeah,” he said. Then a thought occurred to him and he frowned. “Or, actually, no, I can’t. The team’s doing a day trip Winchester Christmas Market after our recovery sessions. Sorry.”

He was, too. As much as he was growing to appreciate the lads and was looking forward to the trip, he’d rather spend some time with Keeley (and his brand was in sore need of some brushing up, ‘cause people were still being cunts and hung up about him walking out on City and Amy and stupid shit like that).

“Oh.” Keeley looked disappointed, which cheered him a little. “Tuesday?” she suggested.

“Sure, yeah. I mean, I’ve got training, but I could drop by after? Unless you wanna… “ He nodded towards her closed office door.

“No! I mean… No. There’s been… there’s an issue with the ventilation, yeah, it smells awful in there. Like dying animals and farts and baby vomit. Blegh. You don’t wanna go in there.”

Uh, yeah, no thank you, he sure as hell did not. Jamie made a face. “Yeah, all right,” he said. “I’ll just come by yours then?”

She nodded, looking relieved. “Great! Thank you, Jamie!”

“You’re all right.” He gave her another smile, Rebecca another nod (and noted that she for some reason seemed like she was struggling not to either roll her eyers or laugh, which was kind of rude, considering how hard Keeley worked for her and all, and she really should get Keeley’s office sorted), before heading out to his car.

So. Fun trip with the boys tomorrow – maybe he’d find something nice for Mummy and for Roy at the Christmas market – and then hanging out with Keeley the day after. So-so playing and his mummy issues aside, life wasn't so bad.

15.

Jamie stood outside Keeley’s door and pressed the bell exactly one hour and seven minutes after training ended on Tuesday. He’d have come sooner, but he’d stopped to pick up coffee for them both on the way. Seemed rude to show up empty-handed when Keeley was taking the time to help him with his brand, even if it’d been her idea.

“Hi, Jamie,” she said as she opened the door, and Jamie frowned. Keeley looked as lovely as ever in her pink Versace and with the blonde hair done up, but there was a strange edge to her smile.

“Hi, Keeley. You good, yeah?” he asked, but she just nodded and gestured for him to move into the sitting room.

The sitting room where Roy was standing by the large windows, turning around as Jamie walked in.

Jamie paused on the threshold. He hadn’t expected Roy to be here. Which, perhaps, he should have, considering how things had gone the last time Keeley invited him over to her place.

Seeing him brought a curious flutter to Jamie’s stomach. Following their encounter at the kebab shop, he’d have sworn he’d rather never say another word to Roy Kent, but spending the past week and a half doing his damnedest to secretly cheer the man up had seemingly shifted the resentment into something else and softer. After all that sneaking around and staying hidden while keeping an eye on Roy, being in the same room as him and having Roy see him made Jamie feel weird. Exposed. Charged. Little jittery.

“Hi,” Jamie decided to try, opting for cool but not unfriendly.

Roy didn’t say anything at all. He just stared at Jamie with an intensity that was kind of extreme, even for Roy.

“Okay then,” Jamie muttered, moving to sit down at the table.

He paused again, raising an eyebrow. On the table before him was the jigsaw puzzle, the bottle of whisky, and the gift card envelope. There was quite a bit missing from the bottle, Jamie noticed with a small thrill. Roy had better enjoy it; tracking it down hadn’t been easy, and it had cost more than any liquor rightly should. Jamie could probably have gotten a thousand bottles of vanilla vodka for the same price.

“Nice,” he said, nodding towards the things. So what if he was angling for some small confirmation that the gifts had been appreciated; he fucking deserved it, after all he’d been through for this grumpy twat.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Roy said, his gruff voice disbelieving to the point of near-reverence. “It was you.”

“Eh?” Jamie looked up and found Roy still staring at him, but his expression had morphed into one of incredulity warring with simmering anger.

Oh. Uh. Jamie had a bad feeling about this. He hurriedly turned to Keeley, who’d followed him into the sitting room and was standing behind him, that small frown still on her face. “You wanna get started?” he asked, hoping to shift the situation away from whatever it was that Roy was so ominously on about.

“It was him the whole time.” Roy sounded like he was slowly convincing himself of the fact, and getting increasingly pissed about it. “I can’t fucking believe— “

“Keeley?” Jamie said, a little desperately. “We should get started, yeah? So, about me brand, I was thinking—“

But Keeley was shaking her head slowly, and Jamie fell silent. Fuck. This had never been about his brand, had it?

He bit his lip. He didn’t look at Roy.

Gesturing to the gifts on the table, Keeley asked softly, “Jamie, did you get these for Roy? And had his porch decorated and all the other stuff?”

He scoffed. “What? No.” He made a face, too, for good measure, because that was just a fucking ridiculous idea, wasn’t it?

Even if it was true.

Keeley fixed him with a stare he was only too familiar with. “Jamie,” she said, edging close enough to stern that it took him some effort not to shuffle his feet.

He wasn’t any good at lying to her when she looked at him like that. Besides, he knew that she wouldn’t believe him even if he tried. Neither of them would. Storming off in a huff wouldn’t help either, because they’d still know.

Nothing for it but to do what could be done to save whatever his dignity he had left.

“Fine,” he snapped. “It was me. I got Roy for Secret Santa, all right? Gone and ruined the surprise now, didn’t you.” Quick thinking, that. Jamie still felt right proud of himself. He’d always been great at coping under pressure. One of the things which made him such a brilliant penalty taker.

Roy and Keeley exchanged a look. Frustratingly and unreasonably, neither of them looked convinced.

“Jamie,” Keeley said slowly, sounding like she was trying very hard to be patient. “I helped Isaac put together the Secret Santa, yeah? Roy wasn’t even in it, ‘cause he’s not with the club anymore.”

“Yeah, you idiot,” Roy said. “So would you kindly tell me what the fuck is going on?”

He didn’t yell, but sounded like he was about two seconds away from it. Overdramatic wanker. Jamie crossed his arms over his chest, and looked away. “So I got you a gift,” he muttered. “What’s the big deal?”

“Gifts! You got me gifts! And the fucking carollers and my car, and then when Keeley and I went to the restaurant… You’ve been following me around like some kind of psycho stalker, haven’t you, you little prick, but yeah, of course you don’t see what the big deal is, because you’re too— ”

Keeley had walked over to Roy, and now put a hand on his arm, quietly urging him to calm down. He pressed his lips shut, thunderous scowl still in place.

“Yeah, Jamie,” Keeley said. “I get that you probably meant well, but it’s been a bit intense, yeah? And it’s not like you and Roy are friends, you know? So guess we just wondered what… well, what brought this on?”

Unexpectedly, Jamie felt his chest tighten. Something about the two of them, standing together on the other side of the room, and looking at him like that, Keeley with hesitant concern and Roy with derision and barely restrained anger… it hurt.

It was all just fucking shit, wasn’t it, because Jamie had tried, yeah? And sure, it’d been mostly to see his mum again, but he really had made an effort to come up with stuff Roy would actually like, and he’d spent every fucking spare minute and so much money pulling it all off and it’d all been so fucking stressful, but maybe it had been a little bit fun too, like maybe Jamie had started to get excited about doing this stuff for Roy, only now Roy was staring at him like that and Jamie’s stupid eyes were beginning to burn and fuck.

“Cat got your fucking tongue?” Roy demanded. “The hell is going on with you, Tartt? First you fuck over City to be a twat on telly, then you worm your way back into Richmond and suddenly try to make it like you haven’t just proved to the whole fucking world that you’re the prickiest prick who ever lived.”

“Roy,” Keeley said. But she didn’t say anything else.

Jamie swallowed. Looked away, and took a deep breath. Another, and felt his face fall into something familiar and safe.  

When he looked back to them, it was with lifted chin and a disdainful sneer firmly in place.

“If we’re not here to talk about me brand, I’m out,” he said coolly. “Need to prepare for the game tomorrow, ‘cause even if I am a prick and even if I did fuck over City to go on a reality show, I’m still fucking playing.” He let his voice curl into cruelty; let his eyes slowly wander over Roy to make his meaning clear. I’m playing. You are not.

Roy got the message, loud and clear, and Jamie didn’t doubt for a second the man would have lunged for him, hadn’t Keeley strategically stepped in to block his path. “Boys—“ she began, but Roy cut her off, his voice an icy snarl as he began call Jamie every vile name under the sun and detail the many, many imaginative ways he’d like to hurt him.

Jamie didn’t stay to listen. The door slamming shut behind him echoed like the sound of a bullet ripping through his chest.

16.

“And with that, it’s all over at Vicarage Road! Watford prevails 3-0 over fellow Premier League relegates Richmond, after a nowadays characteristically lacklustre performance from the Greyhounds. Jamie Tartt had Richmond’s best chance early on in the second half, but failed to capitalize on an elegant pass from Richard Montlaur, and Watford took full advantage of of the visitors’ inability to create anything truly dangerous.”

Jamie went through the motions, shaking the hands of the Watford players and hugging and patting his teammates on the back as he made his way off the pitch, but in his mind he was already back at his house, collapsing into bed and not getting up for at least ten hours. Let sleep pull him away from this fucking shitshow of a game, and the fucking shitshow that had been his visit at Keeley’s place yesterday, and the fucking shitshow that would be the upcoming holiday, because after how things had gone with Roy there was no chance in hell he’d be able to make things right with his mum.

Walking past a mirror in the visitors’ dressing room, he automatically took stock of his appearance, and would have recoiled at the sad sight if he hadn’t been too dejected to care even about that.

Jamie Tartt. The ghost of shitshows past, present and future.

“Don’t beat yourself up, boyo,” Colin said as he walked past him, likely assuming that Jamie’s look of defeat was all down to the actual defeat and the missed goal. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Yeah, evidently,” Jamie muttered, but with such a lack of conviction that it earned him a sympathetic smile and another pat on his shoulder rather than a scowl or eyeroll.

“It was very clumsy of you, but we still would have lost even if you had scored, so it doesn’t matter,” Jan Maas added, and Jamie wondered if it would really count as being a prick if he murdered Jan just a little.

“All right, boys, not gonna lie, that was a tough one, but you know—“ Ted with a rousing speech, and normally Jamie would have done his best to pay attention because that’s what the new and improved Jamie did, and because Ted’s speeches, long and confusing as they sometimes were, actually did tend to leave him feeling better.

But today he just couldn’t seem to keep focus on the gaffer’s friendly drawl, no matter how hard he tried, and he soon gave up. Sat down on the floor and let the words turn into background noise, shapless static, until the silence told him it was time to get up, get changed, get out.

The journey home was a silent affair, a far cry from their ride to Winchester the other day. It had started rowdy and only gotten worse as Declan brought out the hot toddy that his wife had made, and Jan brought out the bisschopswijn that he had bought, and Richard declared that both drinks were sinful waste of good wine and brought out four bottles of a very long French name that Jamie couldn’t remember.

Isaac had only let them have one sip of each offering, because “gonna be lots of little kiddies at the market, so we’re going to fucking behave, yeah”, but that had been plenty to warm them, and they’d descened upon the pitoresque market in an abundance of high spirits and good cheer.

Jamie had found his Mummy a nice blanket, and Roy a boxset of novels in an old bookshop that Sam convinced them to go into. (Well, he hadn’t found the set, Tom had, picking it up and asking, “hey, wasn’t this the guy Roy was obsessed with last year? I sat next to him on the ride to the Sheffield game and he was reading this book he just woulnd’t shut up about. Don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk that much before”, but it had been Jamie who quietly snuck back to the store after the others have moved on to the hot chocolate stall and bought the set.)

Fat lot of good that would do him now.

Jamie picked up his phone and started scrolling down his Twitter feed, hoping for something to distract him from the dull ache in his chest. Not a great idea, as it turned out; him fumbling that goal hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed. To make matters worse, City had won their game against Crystal Palace 3-0, and some industrious little twat had put together a stupid fucking video of Jamie scoring for City last season, him missing his shot today, a reaction shot of him as Watford scored, and City’s celebration of their win at Selhurst Park. imagine going from that to this just coz u wanna eat pussy on tv lmao, the caption read.

Jamie traced his thumb over the skyblue figures jumping and hugging each other as Pep walked among them, handing out cuddles and bum pats. De Bruyne had Paddy in a playful headlock, shouting something jubilant in his ear. Champions, well on the way to securing their fourth League title in a row.

That had been Jamie, just half a year ago. Could have been him still, if only—

But if he’d still been at City, he wouldn’t have had Dani leaning against his shoulder and soring gently as they turned onto Nelson Road. There’d have been no trip to Winchester. And – and that was the only thing that fucking mattered in the end, wasn’t it? –  if he’d still been at City, his phone would be blowing up with calls and messages from Dad right about now, and the mere thought of it was enough to turn his stomach.

As if on cue, his phone started buzzing, startling him badly enough that he almost disloged Dani from his shoulder. “Sorry, amigo,” Jamie murmured, receiving a sleepy mumble in response, as he glanced at the screen.  

Keeley, again. She’d tried calling him last night, and sent a couple of messages, but he’d let the call go to voicemail, ignored the voicemail, and the messages too.

It’d been fucking stupid of him to think she really wanted to help him with his brand, he supposed. He should talk to her, probably. Just to… Well. He didn’t know. Something.

Jamie declined the call. The coach came to a halt. He went home.

---

Two hours later, after he had dutifully eaten an nutritionst approved frozen meal and almost dozed off in front of Q&A, Jamie was jolted awake by a loud, insistent banging on his front door.  

He sat, blinking and scowling towards the hall. Had Roy decided to come calling and yell at him some more? Jamie was not in the mood for that. If he just ignored it—

“Jamie! I know you’re in there, I saw your poncy car out front! Not gonna leave me out here in the cold, are you? Jamie!”

Jamie’s stomached dropped.

It wasn’t Roy. It was Dad.

17.

Roy wasn’t stupid: as he parked his car next to Jamie’s ugly Aston Martin on the drive outside what Higgins had reluctantly revealed to be Tartt’s home, he knew fully well that this might not be a great idea. He’d even promised Keeley that he’d let her be the one to reach out to Jamie, “because obviously it was a mistake thinking the two of you could talk this through like adults”, but the little prick had dodged her calls all day and now Keeley was doing some mingle thing with other PR people downtown and Roy had tried to let it go, he had, but he was slowly going out of his mind, so. Here he was.

What the fuck was going on with Jamie Tartt? It was a question Roy had not thought he’d need to bother with after he quit playing, but he’d been proved wrong again and again in the past two weeks, hadn’t he, and ever since Jamie was revealed as his secret benefactor/pranker, it had not left him a moment’s peace. What the fuck was going on with Jamie Tartt, and why would he bother messing with Roy now that Roy was yesterday’s news? Jamie might be a world class prick but surely he had better things to do, and easier marks if he wanted to make someone miserable?

And even if he did want to mess with Roy, getting Roy a bunch of expensive and thoughtful gifts seemed a fucking odd way to do it. Yes, realising it had been Tartt behind if after Roy – stupidly, pathetically – started getting a little fucking invested in and excited about the whole thing had been a proper and unexpected punch to the gut. Had felt like a trick, because what else could it be? It was Jamie Tartt! And with the way he acted so weirdly cagey about it when confronted and then especially when he slipped right back into being the biggest cunt in existence, bragging about the game he was about to play while Roy—

Even thinking about it now had Roy’s jaw hurting for the way he was clenching it. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. Because the point was… once Roy had had some time to calm down and think about it properly, he was forced to admit (reluctantly, and at Keeley’s insistence) that it didn’t fucking make sense.

Sure, Jamie had always been clever about zeroing in on people’s weaknesses and insecurities, as accurate with his digs as he was with a ball on the pitch, but there was no way he could have figured out that the once mighty Roy Kent was now enough of a moping little bitch that the mere idea of someone still finding him worthy of this kind of attention would have him – or at least part of him – giddy like a fucking child. Jamie couldn’t have planned the icy, numbing hurt that spread through Roy when he thought he’d been played for a fool, that all of it had been nothing but Jamie Tartt having having a laugh while climbing his way back up to the top of the footballing world. It had taken Roy by surprise, for fuck’s sake.

And then there was that moment, just one tiny short instant, right before Jamie opened his big fat mouth and Roy saw red, when there’d been something else on the younger player’s face. He’d looked… Well, if Roy didn’t know better he would have said on the brink of tears, but that was just fucking nuts, wasn’t it?

Then again, this whole thing was. Nuts, and bewildering to the point of driving Roy mental, which was why Roy was here, getting out of his car and walking up to Jamie’s bricked two-storey house, instead of hoovering Keeley’s kitchen and then having yesterday’s leftovers in front of the telly.

It was a surprisingly modest building, surrounded by a wall and winter-bare trees and bushes, and with some of kind of evergreen – too thick and bushy to be ivy – climbing part of façade. Expensive as fuck, of course, given its location in the actual village of Richmond, but cosier than what Roy would have thought expected Tartt to go for. The lights were on inside, and thank fuck for that. It would have been a pain in the arse if Jamie wasn’t home and Roy had to track him down.

Roy raised his fist to bang on the door, but paused at the sound of muffled shouting carrying  through the heavy wood. Someone in there was clearly in a very bad mood, and though he couldn’t quite make out the words, Roy was pretty sure it wasn’t Jamie. The voice was deeper, more ragged.

Before Roy could decided whether to knock anyway, there was a dull thumd and a loud crash, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

Roy forgot about knocking; he pushed the door open.

18.

The door swung open to reveal a knocked over side table, a smashed lamp on the floor, and Jamie Tartt sprawled next to it, bleeding from one hand. Over him stood a man Roy didn’t recognise. He was short, with unkempt grey curls and a wild beard.

He was also drunk, Roy noted, as the man turned toward him. Steady enough on his feet, but his gaze was slightly unfocused, and the smell of stale beer unmistakable.

“You expecting visitors— “ the man began to drawl, but then his eyes lit up with recognition. “Oh, Roy Kent, is it, didn’t expect to see you making house calls to old teammates, but I guess you have a lot of free time on your hands now, eh?” He looked down on Jamie, adding, “Get up, Jamie, no need to lay around like a little bitch just ‘cause you took a tumble, I taught you better than that.“ He turned back to Roy, shaking his head in mock-commiseration. “Footballer, and can’t even stay on his feet. Might be why you lost so badly today, eh, son? Your balance’s gone to shit now that you’re faffing around with a bunch of amateurs instead of a real team.”

Roy stared at the man with mounting disbelief and disgust, then turned his gaze on Jamie, who was unsteadily climbing to his feet. The look on his face shocked Roy far more than the signs of a scuffle had; he’d never imagined that Jamie could look so fucking small; curled in on himself, pale, and with downcast eyes, like a child awaiting punishment.

Like a child. Son.

Roy jerked his head toward the drunk. “This your father?” he asked, surprised at how level he sounded.

Jamie’s eyes flitted to the man, then quickly down again. He gave a small nod.

“Uh-huh. You want him here?”

“Hey now, Kent, you’ve no business— “

“Not talking to you.” Roy cut him off with a curt gesture, eyes still trained on Jamie. “Tartt, do you want him here?”

Jamie didn’t say anything; didn’t nod his head yes or shake it no. But he looked up at Roy and in his face there was such resigned hopelessness that it hit Roy like a punch to the gut.

Roy nodded once. “Right.” And before Jamie’s father had time to react, he grabbed hold of him and dragged him towards the door, ignoring the flailing arms and the kicks and the yelling, and tossing him down the step with enough force that the man fell flat on the gravel, hopefully cutting his ugly mug on the pebbles as he went. Roy shut and locked door on his cursing and threats, and turned back to Jamie, who hadn’t moved.

“The fuck happened here?” Roy asked. “You all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, good, yeah,” Jamie said, sounding slightly dazed as he cradled his injured hand with his good one. “Fell. Knocked the table over, cut my hand on the lamp, but I’m good. Yeah.”

Like hell you are, Roy thought, and might have said if they weren’t interrupted by a loud banging on the door. “Jamie, you open this fucking door, you hear me! Kent, I don’t care who you think you are, you posh southern twat, I’ll still—“

Roy stopped listening. “He got a key?” he asked Jamie, who had started violently at the sound of his father’s assault on the door.

“No.”

“Good. Let him tire himself out, then. Or you want me want to call the police?”

Jamie’s eyes widened at that. “No! No, just… don’t do that. Don’t call the police.”

“All right.” He’d have offered to knock the bastard out, but an unconscious man on the porch might cause all sorts of annoying questions; Roy knew that from personal experience. Besides, he had more pressing matters to attend to. “Come on then, let’s have a look at that,” he said, gesturing toward Jamie’s hand. “This the kitchen through here?”

Had anyone told Roy that there’d come a day when he’d find Jamie Tartt not talking back concerning, he’d have laughed them right in their idiot face, but as Jamie silently followed him into what indeed turned out to be a kitchen and obediently took out a first aid kit and then sat down when Roy asked him to, he was just that: concerned, and not a little thrown off-kilter by the turn his impromptu visit had taken. 

There were two cuts on Jamie’s hand, neither of them deep, and Jamie didn’t protest when Roy quickly cleaned them out and put plasters on them. Just sat there, hand held out, letting Roy do whatever he wanted.

Fucking disconcerting didn’t even begin to describe it.

“There,” Roy said when he was satisfied with his efforts. “He got you anywhere else?”

Jamie stirred at that, shifting uncomfortably. “He didn’t— He just shoved me, like. Hit the wall, tripped on me feet and knocked over the table. Fucking clumsy,” he added, more to himself than to anyone else.

“Oi,” Roy said sharply, then pressed his lips together tightly when Jamie flinched. “Fuck. Sorry. You’re a lot of things, Jamie, but you’re not clumsy. This wasn’t your fucking fault.”

Which might have been a hasty conclusion, perhaps, given Jamie’s general propensity for starting fights and the number of time Roy himself would have been more than happy to shove – and do more than shove – Jamie, but given what he’d seen of Jamie’s father, and given what he saw of Jamie now, Roy did not doubt for a second that he had this right. Whatever had gone down, it hadn’t been on Jamie. And hadn’t been the first time either.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, softly. Too softly to sound convinced.

In the quiet that followed, Roy noted that the banging on the door had stopped. Which was a fucking relief, of course, but it also made the silence between them a tangible, thorny thing, stretching out painfully and awkwardly as Roy wondered what the hell to do now. He could  clean out wounds and put plasters on them, sure, and he was fucking brilliant at getting rid of deadbeat fathers, but as for what came after… He wasn’t great with words at the best of times, wasn’t any good at offering comfort – and it wasn’t like him and Jamie were friends. Up until yesterday, and if Roy had been a dramatic arsehole, he would have gone so far as to call them enemies. Yet here he was, in Jamie Tartt’s kitchen, trying to think of one single useful thing to say or do; anything that might draw the loud, obnoxious, swaggering Jamie he knew (and loathed) out of this slumped, muted version of the man.

”He show up here a lot?” he asked eventually, mostly for something to say.

“No.” Jamie’s voice was still much too quiet, but at least he was responding. “He lives up in Manchester.”

Roy remembered a confession made around a sacrificial fire. Bragging about me scoring goals. Calling me soft if I don’t dominate.

“He pissed about the missed goal?” he hazarded. He hadn’t watched the game, but heard enough about it from Keeley to know it hadn’t been Richmond’s, or Jamie’s, finest hour.

But Jamie shook his head. He was fiddling with the plasters on his hand, eyes averted. “Not really. Doesn’t give a shit if I’m not playing for City, does he. Was in town for their game against Palace, decided to drop by.” A small, unhappy shrug, and quick, almost furtive look in Roy’s direction. “Wanted to know what I was getting him for Christmas. Since I’m rich and all.”

“Broken bones and a fucking restraining order if he shows his fucking face here again,” Roy said grimly. When Jamie didn’t react other than to hunch his shoulders, Roy’s eyes narrowed in realisation. “He’s coming back, isn’t he? Bring some mates, wait ‘til I’m gone?” Yeah, Roy knew the fucking type.

A shrug from Jamie, one that said yes.

Roy made a disgusted noise – but at least this meant that there was something he could actually do.

“All right,” he said, straightening from the counter he’d been leaning on. “Let’s go, then.”

Jamie didn’t stir from his chair, just looked up at Roy with a mix of confusion and suspicion. “Why? Where are we going?”

“My place. You’re coming with me.”

“Why?” Sharper this time. More like the normal Jamie.

Roy raised an eyebrow. “Because if your arsehole father is planning a grand return, you not being here when that happens sounds like great fucking idea to me.”

Colour rose in Jamie’s cheeks. “None of your business, though, is it,” he snapped. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter, Roy. I don’t need anything from you.”

He definitively sounded a lot more like himself, to the point where Roy had to actively fight the urge to snap back. It was far easier than it once would have been though; easier to forgive the rudeness when the shame it was meant to hide was still plain on Jamie’s face.

“You think Keeley’d let me hear the end of it if I left you here alone, knowing that that piece of shit might be coming back?” Roy asked, carefully making sure he kept his voice light and dry. Then he sighed, holding a hand up in surrender. “Listen, I’m not going to make you stay with me if you don’t want to, but you’re not staying here either. I can drop you off at Ted’s or… or fucking Isaac’s, if you’d rather. Take you to Keeley’s and bugger off myself, even. Just… fucking come with me, Jamie. Please.”

In the back of his mind, some small part of Roy was wondering how the fuck he, in the span of 24 short hours, had gone from genuinely wanting to smash Jamie’s teeth in to feeling really fucking desperate that the other should accept his help.

He’d need to think on that, probably. Later.

Jamie mumbled something. Roy frowned. “What?”

“I said, your place is fine.” He glanced up at Roy, and tried for a weak, wobbly smirk. “Hear the porch looks dead good.”

Roy barked a short, surprised snort of a laugh. “Was done up by a fucking lunatic, but yeah, I guess it isn’t half-bad.” He jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go.”

This time, when Jamie went without further protests, it felt like a victory.

---

The drive back to Chelsea was slow, and quiet. When they stopped for a red light, Roy glanced over at Jamie, who hadn’t said a word since he got in the car, and bit back a low, startled curse.

Jamie was crying soundlessly, silent tears running down his cheeks while he stared straight ahead into nothing.

Roy felt a rush of panic course through him. What the fuck was he supposed to do? His first instinct, which was to offer a gruff get yourself together, Tartt would not – of that he was very sure – serve. But what else was there?

Keeley would know what to do. She was great at this emotional shit. Wasn’t scared of a few tears.

Keeley wasn’t here.

It has to be me. It can’t be anyone else.

Keeping his eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel, Roy reached out – slowly, carefully – to put his other hand on Jamie’s neck. Jamie was tense under his palm, but didn’t shy away from the touch.

Roy squeezed, once, briefly. “You’ll be all right,” he murmured.

19.

Keeley grabbed a third glass of cava from the tray of a passing waiter, and took a slow sip while she surveyed the room. It was brilliant, this; she was glad she’d come. When Celia, her contact at Bantr, suggested she attend the event to “meet a few people, do some networking” Keeley had felt as nervous as she did excited, with some small, insecure part of her fearing that the other guests would dismiss her as a fraud; an upstart; an ex-model wannabe PR guru.

But everyone she’d met had been perfectly nice and respectful and interested, and had treated her just like a real PR consultant.

Which was only fair. She was a real PR consultant. She’d proved that, too, by setting up several meetings with people who might be interested in sponsoring Richmond, or using the players in their campaigns. All in all, a damned good night’s work, if she did say so herself. (Rebecca had also said it, rather more eloquently and with a staggering number of exclamations points, whenever Keeley rushed off to the loo to text her the good news.)

It might have been a perfect night, Keeley thought, if it hadn’t been for her nagging concern over Jamie (and over Roy, who’d been doing better since he started the pundit gig, but who still struggled to adjust to life outside of the pitch and had taken the whole Secret not-Santa Jamie affair surprisingly hard).

She’d convinced Roy to let her be the one to reach out to Jaime after yesterday’s ill-fated confrontation, but so far Jamie hadn’t returned either her calls or her texts. Well, he hadn’t half an hour ago, at any rate—

Keeley picked up her phone to check, but there was nothing from Jamie. From Roy, however, she had several messages. She opened the conversation, and felt her eyes widen as she read:

Something’s come up and I’m heading back to my place.

Can you come?

I’m bringing Jamie.

Keeley blinked at the screen, and then blinked at it again. The message still said the same thing, compelling her to type out a not entirely unserious reply in a vain attempt to ease her sudden sense of foreboding.

in a body bag?

Roy’s response was immediate.

We’re not fighting.

But he’s a mess and I need your help with him.

Sorry, I know you’ve got that mingle thing.

But can you come?

“Fucking hell,” Keeley muttered, but she was already draining her glass and walking toward the exit. What the fuck was Roy doing with Jamie after they’d agreed it was better if Keeley were the one to talk to him? And why was Jamie a mess if him and Roy weren’t fighting?

And, most importantly of all, how long would the “not fighting” bit last?

She had better get there fast.

---

As it turned out, she must have been closer to Roy’s house than Roy was, or else her Lyft driver was better at navigating London traffic, because Keeley arrived at Tregunter Road before Roy did. She’d no more than let herself in, though, before the door opened again behind her and Jamie, immediately followed by Roy, stepped inside.

Keeley gave a little gasp at the sight of Jamie. There was a small bruise and cut on his forehead, and his eyes were suspiciously red and puffy. Keeley looked to Roy, who hastily shook his head. “Wasn’t me, babe. His arsehole dad stopped by.”

“I fell,” Jamie muttered. He sounded sullen, but the way he was fidgeting with his sleeves suggested nerves or embarrassment rather than resentment.

“He fell because his arsehole dad shoved him,” Roy elaborated.

“Oh.” Jamie hadn’t told her all that much about his dad when they were together, but from what little she’d gained, arsehole sounded about right. She hadn’t known it came with shoving, though. Or worse. “Hey, babe,” she said, walking up to Jamie and reaching out to gently brush a few strands of loose hair out of his eyes, coaxing him to look at her. “You doing all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Just… I mean, things with me dad, they’re a bit shit, but I’m fine, you know. It’s just scratches, this, it’s nothing.” He gestured toward his forehead. There were plasters on his hand, she noticed, and was surprised by how angry the sight of them made her feel. Angry, and heartbroken for the deprecating, resigned way by which he brandished them.

Jamie must have seen some of it on her face, because his weak attempt at a smile faded entirely, and he drew back a little, averting his eyes. Keeley’s heart twinged in sympathy.

“Oh, Jamie,” she said, and then, without really thinking about it, she drew him into a tight hug. After a moment of hesitation, he went willingly, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her neck. He was warm against her, solid in the same way Roy was solid, but unlike Roy he gave himself completely over to the hug, melting into her touch as she ran her hand over his back.

“We’ve got you, babe,” Keeley murmured into his hair. It smelled just the way she remembered it, clean and sweet with spicy notes of fennel leaf and eucalyptus from his Aesop shampoo.

It stirred something within her, that smell, and the feeling of his familiar body pressed against her. She smiled, a little ruefully. Pavlovian.

“I’ll put the kettle on,” Roy said behind them. “You two get comfortable on the couch.”

So Roy wanted a moment to himself but wanted her to stay with Jamie, then. Fair enough. Keeley wouldn’t have minded the chance to talk to Roy in private, get some more details on what the hell was going on, but she could see why he’d think keeping an eye on the younger man might be a good idea; though subdued, there was a skittishness to Jamie that rather gave the impression he might bolt if left to his own devices.

“Yeah, that sounds good, doesn’t it, Jamie?” she said, releasing him from the hug but putting a hand on his arm to steer him toward the sitting room. “Come on, it’s right through here. And I swear, even though it looks like it’s made for people who hate to feel good, Roy’s couch is actually really comfortable.”

Granted, she hadn’t spent too much time on it, as they tended to stay over at hers rather than Roy’s, but there’d been enough evenings curled up in front of a show while Roy made her dinner in what he termed “a properly stocked kitchen” for her to have brought a few pillows (in shades of grey and dark purple, in deference to the black leather) and a huge, soft, pink blanket (in deference to Keeley’s own happiness). (Roy had narrowed his eyes at the blanket, but hadn’t made any protests.)

Keeley sat down, patting the cushion right next to her. Jamie obediently took his assigned seat, and she didn’t hesitate to tug him closer, until he was leaning on her with his head resting on her shoulder. As she began to run her fingers through his hair, noticing how much longer the strands were than the last time she did this, he gave a shuddering little sigh.  

Jamie had always loved to be held.

They sat like that for a while, talking quietly about a bit of this and that, Armani’s new line and Keeley’s job, while the tension slowly but surely left Jamie and he grew more and more relaxed against her—until the sound of steps in the hallway announced Roy’s imminent arrival.

Jamie made to sit up, seemingly concerned about the other man walking in on him half-draped over his girlfriend, but Keeley tightened her grip to hold him in place. Roy had asked her here to help with Jamie; he could hardly object to her doing just that.

As it were, Roy didn’t bat a lid. “Didn’t know if you took milk,” was all he said as he put the tea tray down on the coffee table.

“Uh, yeah, usually, yeah, but it’s fine without.”

Roy didn’t respond, but added a splash of milk from a small jug to one of the cups and handed it to Jamie, and then gave Keeley another before joining them on the couch.

Jamie lifted his mug to his lips, only to immediately lower it again after the first tentative sip. “There’s sugar in this,” he said accusingly, looking at Roy like he suspected the man of trying to poison him.

Roy looked… slightly embarrassed, Keeley noted with some interest and some amusement. “It’s supposed to be soothing, you prick,” he growled, but without any real heat. “My grandad used to make it like that when I was upset. Your next game isn’t until Saturday anyway, one cup of sweet tea won’t do much damage.”

“Oh. All right.” Jamie tried the tea again. “It’s good,” he allowed. “Thanks. And,” he added hesitantly after a moment, “thanks for, you know, doing this. Letting me be here. I never… I mean, you didn’t have to do that, and I know you were upset about the gifts and all that.”

Keeley looked up, meeting Roy’s eyes over Jamie’s head. He looked uncertain, which was a rare but not altogether unpleasant look on his handsome face. He didn’t say anything but gave her a little nod, go on.

“We weren’t upset, Jamie,” Keeley began, but paused as Jamie snorted and Roy rolled his eyes. “Okay, so Roy was a little upset,” she amended. “But mostly because we were confused, yeah? You never got along with Roy and suddenly you’re doing all these really nice things for him and not telling anyone about it and that’s sweet, you know, but it’s also really fucking weird.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was a bit mad I guess, yeah.”

He sounded more sheepish about it than upset, and Keeley smiled. “Little bit, yeah,” she agreed. Then she sobered. ”And I’m sorry things got weird the other day. I just thought it’d be good for us to talk things through, you know? But, I shouldn’t have tricked you into coming over to my place like that, making you think we’d be working on your brand. We could still do that later, if you want.”

At that, he twisted his head to look at her, a small, hopeful smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be fun.” It would too. Her skills had developed considerably since the last time she’d helped him with his PR, and there was no denying that she felt a tiny, professional thrill at the thought of finding out just what she might accomplish with Jamie Tartt now that she was a bit more experienced. And God knew his brand could do with some polishing, after the Lust Conquers All debacle.

For the first time that night, Jamie’s grin was undiminshed and genuine. “Mint.”  

“Great! We’ll set something up for after New Year’s, then. A proper meeting this time, I promise. Before that, though… think you can explain it to us, babe? About the gifts?”

He looked away from her. For a long time he didn’t answer, just played with his rings while considering, and sneaking the occasional glance at Roy.

Thankfully, Roy kept quiet.

“Yeah,” Jamie said eventually. “Yeah, all right.”

20.

Roy didn’t have a very high opinion of people in general. He didn’t expect much of humanity as a whole. He was aware that some people might call him a misanthrope (though that was fucking unfair, because it wasn’t that he didn’t like other people, it was that most other people persisted in being fucking idiots and why the fuck should he waste his time on fucking idiots of he didn’t have to?). Given that, it was something of a mystery to him how he still could be continually surprised by the utter absurdity of the things people got up to. Especially if the person in question was Jamie Tartt, because if something was stupid and/or pointless, Roy fully expected Jamie to be all for it. (Though perhaps, he allowed, there were depths to Tartt he hadn’t considered before. Sides he hadn’t seen, and mightn’t necessarily hate.)

Yet here he was, fucking perplexed by what he’d just been told, seemingly in all earnestness, by the little tosser still wrapped in Keeley’s arms.  

“You wanted to make me happy,” he said flatly. “Because the universe sent you a dream that that’s what you had to do if you wanted to see your mum.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Keeley interjected, shooting Roy a warning look. He rolled his eyes at her, because excuse him for being a tiny bit baffled by this batshit logic.

But he also subsided, because none of them needed this to turn into another shouting match.

“I think it’s sweet,” Keeley repeated firmly, turning her attention back to Jamie. “And I believe the universe does send us signs sometimes. But babe, do you think that maybe you got a little caught up in the doing good stuff bit, and forgot about what it really was you were trying to achieve?”

”Yeah,“ Roy agreed quickly, feeling that on this at least he had some relevant thoughts. “Jesus Christ, Tartt, if you want to make things right with your mum, you need to talk to your mum. Mucking around with other people – sending secret gifts and shit – is just putting it off and getting you nowhere.” He crossed his arms and gave Jamie a pointed look. “You need to stop making excuses about what the universe fucking wants you to do and go see your mum.”

“Yeah,” Jamie murmured, pulling at the hem of his hoodie. “I… I know that, all right? I know. But, I just thought… I mean, it’s… it’s fucking hard, okay? So I thought that maybe, if I, you know, if I could tell her that it was all okay now, that I’d made nice with everyone, then she’d… I thought it’d be easier, like.”

Something small and soft in his voice, causing Roy’s bemused irritation to melt away (and alarmingly quickly too, which was irritating all on its own). “And you thought getting me a bottle of whisky would make everything right between us, did you?” he asked drily, mostly to cover the entirely unreasonable surge of… not affection, but something a whole lot gentler than the active dislike he’d reserved for the other until today.

“Mate, that whisky cost more than your watch,” Jamie informed him haughtily, sounded for a moment rather like his usual self. “It was right hard to get hold of, too. Had to get the year of your birth, right, you even notice that? And besides,” he added before Roy had time to answer, in a far more plaintive voice, “You wouldn’t talk to me. I fucking tried, remember? Was dead polite about it and all, but you were a mean cunt just like always—“

“Oi! Don’t call me a mean cunt when you’re sat on my fucking couch and cuddling my girlfriend, you twat.”

“Uh, then don’t call me a twat—“

“Boys,” Keeley said sternly. “We were having a decent time here, yeah? Don’t go ruining it with your testosterone.”

“Sorry, Keeley,” Jamie immediately offered, the little suck-up. Roy gave him a sardonic look – since when did Jamie apologise for anything? – but kept quiet. Keeley did have a point, didn’t she?

His restraint was rewarded by a warm but knowing smile from Keeley and a mouthed thank you, even as she resumed running her hand through Jamie’s hair. Jamie hummed happily and snuggled even closer, his earlier concern about Roy’s reaction to Keeley holding him apparently forgotten.

And it was odd, because Roy should have thought he’d be jealous, given how worked up he’d been over Keeley’s past with Jamie back when he first started fancying her. And maybe he was, just a bit (because Keeley looked stunning and he hadn’t kissed her since this morning and it would be pretty fucking lovely to just hold her for a moment), but mostly the sight of them, with Jamie curled up against Keeley like a cat and looking unguardedly relaxed, made him feel… He didn’t quite know. Warm, maybe. Protective. Something in him ached, but not in a bad way.

”It never was about me, was it?” he mused aloud. “The gifts, the fucking plane and carollers, it was just something you had to do to make things right with your mum?” That ached too, unexpectedly; in a bad way.

Jamie scrunched up his face. “No. I mean, yeah, yeah, of course it was, in the beginning, but like… it was about you too, especially in the end? I liked knowing I did something nice for you, yeah? Like, I could make Roy Kent feel good and that made me feel good, you know?”

Oh. Yeah. Roy did know all about how sometimes making others feel good was the only way you could feel even remotely good about yourself. He just hadn’t thought that be something he’d ever have in common with Jamie Tartt of all people, or that Roy’s well-being would ever be of any concern to Jamie’s.

“And you did… “ Jamie sounded fucking shy, although he tried to mask it by pretending to inspect his nails very carefully. “I mean, you did, right? Like it? Some of it?”   

Roy’s first instinct was to say not, because… Well. Because. But looking at Jamie and seeing the way he was trying so hard to appear casual while sneaking little peeks at Roy while waiting for an answer, he found that he didn’t have the heart for it.

“The plane was a little over the top,” he finally allowed with a sigh. “But other than that, yeah, Jamie, I fucking liked it.”

21.

Maybe he was dreaming again, Jamie thought. Kind of had to be, because how likely was it that he would actually be chilling in the home of Roy – Roy Kent! – while Keeley – best and kindest and sexiest Keeley! – let him lean on her and kept running her fingers through his hair in that way she knew that he loved?

It felt real, though. Felt nice and warm and a little float-y, a far fucking cry from the sickening shame and fear of the early evening when Roy had rushed in like some knight in shining armour to chuck Dad out. And it’d been fucking humiliating to have Roy – Roy Kent! – see Jamie like that, fucking shivering and dumb and then crying just from a few nasty words and a shove, but there’d been relief in it as well.

Someone knew, and the world hadn’t ended. Someone had seen, and hadn’t walked away, or called Jamie a pussy for letting his dad talk to him like that, push him around like that.

Roy had cleaned out his wounds instead, and brought him home.

It was weird, the way a day that had started so badly and only gotten worse could somehow turn into what might be one of the best evenings of Jamie’s life. A proper Christmas miracle, like.

“Which one was the best?” Keeley asked suddenly, breaking Jamie out of his revere.  

“Eh?”

“Best adaptation of A Christmas Carol. Deciding that is what led to all this, right,”—she indicated the three of them—“so I just wondered which one was the best.”

“The Muppet Christmas Carol,” Roy said before Jamie even had time to open his mouth. “It’s not even a contest.”

Jamie shrugged. ”We didn’t watch that one.”

Roy’s head snapped toward Jamie. “What?” he asked, sounding as baffled as he did furious.  “The fuck do you mean you didn’t watch that one?”

“Um, that we didn’t? We, like, all voted on which ones to see, and that one didn’t make the cut, so.”

“Fucking Ted,” Roy muttered, looking genuinely upset. “How the fuck is he going to get you back to the Premier League if he can’t even make calls as easy as that. Jesus Christ.”

“Maybe you should come on as coach,” Jamie suggested innocently. “Make sure we don’t miss any other important movies.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Roy said. “And we’re watching The Muppet Christmas Carol right now. Can’t fucking believe I was haunted by the ghost of Christmas pricks and he hasn’t even seen the only relevant version.” He stood up from the couch. “I’m getting a beer, you want anything?”

At Keeley’s wine for me, please and Jamie’s a beer’d be mint, cheers mate Roy gave a short nod and disappeared to the kitchen.

“I wasn’t being a dick,” Jamie told Keeley confidentially. “I mean, I was, but I think he’d be dead good as a coach. Ted and Beard and Nate, they’re all great, but we could use someone who actually knows what it’s like to play the game, do you know what I mean?”

“I know! He’d be so good at it! And I know he really, really misses football, even though he doesn’t want to admit it. I could hardly get him to try the pundit gig, though, so I’m not sure what’d convince him to start coaching, even if Ted, or someone, asked. He’s so fucking stubborn.”

“Thick-headed twat,” Jamie agreed, though the snark was tinged with a fondness he hadn’t expected to ever feel for Roy, not since the first time he actually met the man and he proved to be a massive cunt. But maybe Jamie had been just a little bit hasty in his judgment last year. He wasn’t always right, after all, as surprising as that would be to people.

Roy returned with the drinks, pausing with narrowed eyes as they both swivelled to look at him.

“Were you talking about me?” he demanded.

“No,” Keeley said, guiltily.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, not guiltily at all. Roy was a thick-headed twat; the fact that he was also weirdly sweet and kind of like a super hero or some shit didn’t change that.

“Uh-huh. I was thinking we should order some food too. Indian fine with you?”

Indian was fine with everyone. Roy promised to get Keeley her “usual”, told Jamie which items would work best with his meal plan, and called in the order. Then he returned to his corner of the couch, and he didn’t say anything about it, but Jamie noticed the furtive and decidedly longing look he shot Keeley.

Keeley must have noticed it to, because she gave Jamie’s shoulder a little pat. “Come on, sweetie, let’s switch it up a little, eh? I think Roy is starting to feel left out.”

“I’m not—“ Roy began, but Jamie was already moving, scrambling to his feet while he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart freeze. The fuck had he been thinking? That he could just stay like this, getting all cosy with Keeley while Roy sat alone in the corner? And after making them spend the entire evening looking after him when they were probably just dying to get some time alone, too. Fucking stupid. Selfish.

“I can go if you want,” he hastily offered. “I mean, I should probably go, right? Yeah. But, like, it’s been great, so thanks, uh, thanks for having me.”

“Jamie, no,” Keeley said, looking distressed. “That’s not—“

“You’re not going anywhere until you’ve seen the movie,” Roy added firmly. “Fact is, you should probably stay the night, just in case your piece of shit dad decides to drop in on you again.”

“He probably went home already,” Jamie admitted reluctantly. He really wasn’t keen on going back to his empty house and the broken glass still on the floor, especially if the alternative was a sleepover at Roy Kent’s, but it felt like a bad thing, lying about his dad just so they’d let him stay. “Or is about to, anyway. Too cheap for a hotel if I’m not paying for it, ain’t he. Him and his mates usually takes the last regular train back to Manchester.”

“All right.” Roy kept staring at him, gaze dark and penetrating. “You should stay anyway,” he said abruptly. “Just in case. It’d… “ He paused, looking up in the ceiling and looking like he’d rather stab himself in the eye than continue. “It’d make me feel better,” he eventually gritted out. “Knowing that you’re here. So. Stay. Please.”

“Yeah, Jamie,” Keely quickly interjected. “It’d make us both feel better, yeah?”

Jamie, still wide-eyed and open-mouthed from the please, could only nod. “Yeah, okay, if you want, yeah,” he croaked.

“Great!” Keeley beamed at him. “And I didn’t mean we can’t keep cuddling, babe, I just thought we’d shift around a bit, make sure everyone’s included, yeah? Like this.” And she moved over to the other end of the couch, sidling up next to Roy and leaning back against his chest. He immediately put an arm around her, and pressed his lips against hers in a kiss when she turned her face towards him in invitation.

Jamie had found the sight of them kissing disgusting once. Now, it sparked something else; heat, and a sense of quiet longing.

And then Keeley looked up at him, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “Come on, then.”

Jamie looked to Roy, to make sure he really was okay with this.

But Roy just gave him a nod. “Go on.”

So Jamie went, laying down on the couch with his head in Keeley’s lap, and gave a happy sigh as her hand immediately went back to his head, scratching idly at his scalp and running her thumb over his neck.

“Don’t fucking fall asleep,” Roy ordered as he started the movie. “You’re paying this the attention it deserves, Tartt, you hear me?”

“Yes, Coach,” Jamie said, and grinned when Roy growled and Keeley giggled. Huh, he thought. Really is a fucking Christmas miracle, innit.

---

Roy had been right. It was the best version.

22.

And then it was Christmas Day. Jamie arrived at Nelson Road bright and early, to make sure he’d catch Ted and clear the Manchester trip before training started.

Roy had been very insistent on it, making a point of fixing Jamie with a glare before headed out the door yesterday morning. ”You need to ask Ted permission to go,” he’d said. “You can’t just fuck off to Manchester the day before a game and not tell him.”

“Uh, yeah, I know? Not me first year playing in the big league, gr— Roy.”

Roy’s eye had twitched a little at that, like he was biting back a sharp retort, and Jamie had scowled at him. You run out on a team one time (and for very good reason!), and suddenly everyone thinks you’re Mr. Unreliable.

“But it’s Ted,” Keeley interjected. “There’s no way he won’t say yes, long as you make it back in time.”

“I don’t think he’ll say no, that’s not what I’m fucking saying, I’m just saying he needs to ask,” Roy grumbled, so sullenly that Jamie felt his irritation melt away and a grin grow on his face.

“I’ll ask,” he promised. “First thing when I see him. Be super polite and humble and that.”

“I’ll believe that when I fucking see it,” Roy said, but his eyebrows softened a fraction into what Jamie had started to suspect was a secret sort of weird Roy smile.

And then Keeley gave him a long hug and Roy gave him a short nod that felt kind of like a hug, and Jamie went out to his Uber feeling like he could walk of fucking clouds.

As Keeley had predicted, Ted was perfectly happy granting Jamie permission to take the train up to Manchester, provided he promised to return the same night. It’d only give him a few hours with Mummy, but that was far better than nothing, and Jamie thanked the gaffer, if not profusely then at least with real sincerity.

He also handed him a parcel, feeling slightly stupid about it. It had seemed a good idea at the shop yesterday; now it just seemed weird. “It’s nothing,” Jamie muttered, “and I didn’t want to give it to you before I asked, ‘cause I thought maybe it’d seem like a bribe or something. Just… I guess I wanted to say thank you. For letting me back on the team and all.” Admittedly, Ted would have been mad not to, but Jamie still remembered the sinking feeling when it had seemed like he would anyway, so yeah, he was grateful. “It’s not me trying to buy your affection or anything either, okay?” he hastened to add. “Just, thank you.”

“Good call, because my affection’s one thing you cannot buy.” Off Jamie’s falling face, Ted quickly added, “Which is to say, you don’t need to, because you already have it, gratis and free of charge. But I appreciate it all the same, that’s very thoughtful of you, Jamie. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Coach.”

It had been an impulse, buying the bourbon for Ted. Jamie had been picking up a Secret Santa bottle of ògógóró for Sam, right proud that he’d thought to ask for a Nigerian spirit. Sam had been feeling homesick last year, hadn’t he? And then he’d spotted the bourbon and that’s what the Americans had instead of whiskey, wasn’t it, and maybe Ted felt homesick at times, too, and apparently getting people gifts were becoming a habit now, because Jamie had bought the bottle without thinking too much about it.

It had been a close call, though, with the Secret Santa gift. Keeley had asked him about it when they were having breakfast, wondering if he’d gotten it yet, and Jamie had admitted that he had not and had maybe hinted at not doing so at all.

“You’re not getting anything for Secret Santa?” Keeley asked, looking upset or maybe disappointed, which made Jamie squirm. He didn’t want her to be upset or disappointed with him.

“I didn’t know I had to,” he tried to explain. “Besides, I haven’t had time ‘cause I was doing all that shit for Roy. But I’ll, I’ll pick up a bottle of booze on me way, yeah?”

And good thing he did, too, because as it turned out the secret bit of Secret Santa was only secret until it was time to actually hand out the gifts. If the lads had realised that Jamie had failed to bring Sam of all people anything, they wouldn’t have liked it. Come to think of it, Jamie wouldn’t have liked it much either, now that he understood how the whole thing worked.

“Thank you, Jamie, this is lovely,” Sam said, pulling him into a one armed hug and leaving Jamie feeling pleased and warm – a feeling which only grew stronger when he looked up and caught Keeley’s eyes through the window to the coaches’ office. She smiled at him, and winked.

He winked back.

Loved her.

Then there were other gifts; more hugs and good wishes; and finally Isaac stood to deliver a very long and very dramatic declaration of an old Christmas poem Jamie vaguely recalled having heard in school. He didn’t remember it being this exciting, but maybe Mr. Jones just hadn’t been as good at reading poetry as Isaac was.

It was all good fun, but as nice as hanging out with the team now that they weren’t upset with him anymore was, Jamie found himself itching to leave, and by the time Isaac solemnly declared this year’s Secret Santa session over and the holiday begun, Jamie nearly flew out of the dressing room and into his car. Thankfully traffic was unusually decent, or he wouldn’t have made it to the station on time.

The train ride was uneventful; a couple of people asked for his picture but no one wanted to whine about Amy or Lust Conquers All or Richmond’s poor performance so it was all good. A little kid told him he wanted to be just like Jamie when he grew up and play football just like him and wear cool clothes like him, too. “Good lad,” Jamie said. Always sweet to meet a fellow fashion forward individual.

He took a cab from the station but asked the driver to drop him off by the Minimart, and walked the last half mile. It was nice to move around a bit after sitting still for so long – and he rather liked strolling through his old neighbourhood. He’d outgrown it, sure, but it was still in his bones; coming here still felt like coming home. Felt like something dropping away and something else slipping into place as he walked through the underpass where he’d had his first smoke; as he went past the house where Auntie Delilah had lived until she died of breast cancer a couple of years ago; as he finally came to halt outside his mum’s tiny yard.

Jamie paused for a moment. He had texted Mummy this morning to let her know he was coming, even though he’d been nervous to. What if she wouldn’t seem happy about it? But of course she had; had seemed ecstatic, what with the string of emojis and exclamation marks.

Even so, standing outside the familiar door, with the familiar plastic wreath hung on it, Jamie hesitated. He could smell Simon’s baking all the way through the door. Could hear Mummy sing along to Merry Christmas Baby. Home, just on the other side of that door.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie raised his hand and rang the bell.

23.

The door swung open before the soft chime of the bell had faded. ”Jamie!”

Mummy, beaming at him, and before he even knew it he was in her arms, wrapping himself tight around her and stooping to bury his face in her neck and just hold her as she clung to him in turn.

“Hi, Mummy,” he murmured, inhaling the familiar scent that was comfort and safety and home.

He could hear the bright smile in her voice. “Hi, baby. Oh, it’s so good to see you!”

And it seemed to silly, suddenly, such pointless and foolish waste, that he should have stayed away for so long, kept himself from this for so long. Just from the way she’d lit up at the sight of him it was so fucking obvious that there’d never been anything to fear, and nothing to gain but loneliness and heartache for them both.

And he had known that, deep down, hadn’t he. And yet.

Fucking stupid.

Jamie made a low, frustrated noise.

Mummy noticed, of course she noticed, and she didn’t let him go or try to pull back, but she asked, “Jamie? Is everything all right, son?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, it’s… Listen, Mummy, I need to tell you, but it’s… and I’m sorry I haven’t been around much, yeah? Haven’t called enough, I should have called more. But things— And I’m sorry, yeah? I just— ”

“Jamie, baby,” Mummy interrupted, kindly but firmly, as she kept running her hand over his hair, just like Keeley had a couple of nights ago “Whatever it is, it’s going to be all right, I promise. There’s nothing you can do or say that would make me love you any less, you know that.”

He nodded against her shoulder. “Yeah, I know.” He did know. Had never doubted it.

Somehow that had only made it harder.

“I just want you to be happy.”

And yes, he knew that too, but that was the crutch of it, wasn’t it? The truth he’d wanted to keep from her. “I haven’t been, much,” he mumbled, a whispered confession, the thing that lain between them brought out into the soft light of the hall. His unhappiness, and underneath it what had caused it and what it had led him to do.

She did pull back at that, lifting her hand to his face, running it over his cheek. “Yes, son,” she said quietly. “I know. And it broke my heart that you wouldn’t talk to me about it, but you’re your own man, Jamie. If you don’t want to tell me things you don’t have to. I’m here for you, whenever you need me to be. But yeah, it did hurt when you stopped coming around, even though I knew you were busy. You don’t need to tell me everything, my gorgeous boy, but please don’t shut me out just because you think you can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I didn’t… I wanted to talk to you, I did, swear down, but I just didn’t know— “ He fell silent with a small shrug.

Georgie nodded. “All right. Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Yeah, okay.”

She smiled at that, encouragingly like, and Jamie smiled back. Felt some of the tension bleed away, some of the regret ease. It had been shit, staying away and shutting her out, but they were here now; it would be all right.

“Let’s go sit down then, and we’ll have Simon bring some sweet treats. He’s been in the kitchen all day since you said you were coming.”

Oh. Jamie made a face. “Sorry, I should have called earlier, given you guys more time—“

“No, hush now, none of that. You’re here now, Jamie, and that’s all that matters, yeah?”

Sighing, he pulled her back into a tight hug. There were a lot of them to catch up on. “Yeah, okay. I love you, Mummy.”

“I know, baby. I love you, too.”

24.

Due to lucky timing or – more likely – a long-honed sense for when Jamie and Georgie were ready to be interrupted, Simon stepped into the sitting room to announced that dinner was ready about half a minute after the hour-long, and occasionally weepy, talk was winding down to general cuddles.

Jamie got up to greet him with genuine enthusiasm. He’d already moved out by the time Simon moved in, but he liked the man well enough. He’d been dead good for Mummy, and Simon had always been decent about giving her and Jamie space, never seeming to mind that Georgie tended to focus all of her attention on Jamie whenever he was around. Which was only natural, given that Jamie was her only son and a fucking great one at that, but some men might have been pissy about it, so Jamie was still glad Simon wasn’t one of those.

“Tried to make a few extra sides that won’t mess with your meal plan, I know you’ve got a game tomorrow,” Simon said as he ushered them towards the carefully set table.

They’d gotten a new cloth since the last time Jamie was here for Christmas, a rustic looking light grey number, but the pink plates with a pattern of golden Christmas trees around the edge were the same ones Jamie had given her when he was 17. Simon had matched them with green napkins, intricately folded around small golden sprigs of plastic mistletoe, and pink and gold ornaments scattered across the table.

“That’s nice, that,” Jamie said, because it was, and Simon beamed at him.

The dinner was nice, too, the traditional turkey and trimmings complemented, for Jamie’s benefit, with a French omelette with smoked haddock, a large salad, and a small bowl of liberally spiced brown rice. It took Mummy most of the meal to fill Jamie in on all the latest neighbourhood gossip, but there was a fair bit of chatter about football as well, and a couple of minutes devoted to Simon’s new knife set. It was fun, and easy, and by the time Simon got up to put the kettle on and Jamie went out into the hall to collect the bag of gifts he’d brought, Jamie was feeling more relaxed (and fuller) than he could remember doing in… well. A fucking long time.

As they settled on the couch with their tea cups, small glasses of mulled cherry wine and a frankly shocking array of sweets (of which Jamie allowed himself exactly one small slice of candied orange dipped in chocolate and sprinkled with sea salt), Mummy fretted slightly over not having any proper gifts for him there. “We had them sent over your place, since we didn’t think you were coming. I’m sorry, love.”

“No, yeah, I know, got them last night. Haven’t opened them yet, though, ‘cause, uh, I wanted to see you first.”

She smiled, and pulled him close to smack her lips against the top of his hair. “Do it first thing when you get home, and every last one of them will be a kiss from me.”

“I will, Mummy.” He’d be getting home after midnight, and by rights should head straight for bed to make sure he was in good shape for tomorrow’s game, but knew he would take the time to unpack the carefully wrapped parcels. Knew his mum would likely be up and ready to respond to any excited reaction texts he might send.

Jamie apologised for the randomness of the gifts, sheepishly admitting that he’d spent too much time getting Roy stuff to think much about anyone else; they waved away his regrets and oooh:ed and aaah:ed enthusiastically at the blanket (Georgie), the cookbook (Simon), the weekend getaway in Cornwall (both of them), and the other things Jamie had picked up rather hurriedly yesterday.

Merry Christmas (I don’t want to fight tonight) came on. Grinning cheekily, Mummy got to her feet, pulling Jamie up with her as she went, and then they were dancing all across the sitting room, laughing and loudly singing along, the way they’d always done when Jamie was a kid.

“Oh, baby, you’ve gotten dead good at this,” Mummy said a little breathlessly after Jamie had spun her round in a complicated twirl, and he nodded, pleased that she’d noticed his mad moves. “I’m a footballer, ain’t I. Gotta be quick on me feet.”

The song ended and the far slower Have yourself a merry little Christmas began to play. Jamie released his mum to Simon, and as the two of them swayed slowly to Judy Garland’s soft crooning, Jamie took the opportunity to sneak away for a bit, going up the stairs to his old room. It looked pretty much exactly the way he’d left it when he moved into the Academy residence. Mummy (or Simon, probably) kept it clean, but hadn’t moved any of his stuff or done anything about the general messiness of the room. Only the Keeley poster had been a later addition, and only because having semi-nudes up at his academy room had been frowned upon and he’d still been minding the rules back then.

Mad, to think that he’d ended up dating her. Mad, that he’d played with Roy Kent, the one player whose poster he’d never taken down (although he’d come close, the first time he was back home after joining Richmond and Roy had proved to be a massive cunt, but it had felt like letting Roy win somehow, so it had stayed up).

Madder still, that only two nights ago he’d been curled up with both of them on a couch in Roy Kent’s house.

Grinning, he pulled out his phone and called Keeley. Yes, it was late and it was Christmas and it might be a prick thing to do, interrupting whatever celebration they had going, but as much as he was trying to be better, Jamie hadn’t gotten to where he was by not going after what he wanted. Besides, they’d want to know how things had gone, wouldn’t they? Keeley would, at any rate.

His assumption turned out to be correct because Keeley not only picked up, but smiled like she couldn’t be happier to hear from him. “Jamie, hi! You doing all right? Are you up in Manchester?”

“Hi, Keeley. Yeah, I am, yeah.” He paused, taking a moment to just look at her, taking in the loveliness of her face, before adding, “Talked to me mum. It went great. I mean, I was a bit nervous, but it went great, yeah, so it’s all good now.”

“Yeah?” Her smile softened. “That’s amazing, Jamie. Really glad to hear that.”

“Yeah. So, uh, I just wanted to call to tell you and, and, say thanks, I guess. For, you know, telling me I needed to go here. And, uh, merry Christmas.”

“You’re welcome, Jamie. Merry Christmas.”

“Oi!” Roy’s voice, off-camera and sounding unusually high over the speakers. “Keeley, do— Oh, sorry, didn’t realise you were on the phone.” A pause. “That Jamie?”

“Yeah. He’s up in Manchester, come say hi.” Keeley shifted a bit, angling her phone to include Roy in the picture.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. Roy must really be into Christmas, because he was actually wearing a patterned tie with his black shirt and black suit jacket. A dark patterned tie, admittedly, but it had got little golden dots on it, which was far more festive than Jamie would have thought Roy could ever manage.

Then again, he’d had to rethink a lot of his thoughts on Roy in the past two days.

“Hi,” Roy said, sounding… not unsure, exactly, but… not not unsure either. A little reserved, but in a way Jamie, canny reader of people that he was, suspected had more to do with uncertainty over their new relationship status, rather than any real desire to be an arse.

Jamie didn’t blame him. He was feeling a little uncertain himself (which was still a new and not particularly fun experience). Things had changed between them since Roy rushed in to find him crumpled on the floor—but how exactly, and into what?

He guessed they’d find out, and fuck, wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Hi,” he said. “Merry Christmas. You enjoying the holiday, yeah?” He nodded towards the tie, smirking just a little. (It was a decent tie. Roy looked well fit in it. But if the man didn’t want people taking the piss when he donned a bit of colour he shouldn’t make such a point of always wearing black then, should he?)

Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m loving it. Spent the afternoon knocking on random doors looking for a dentist for my niece, that was a fucking riot. And,” he continued before Jamie had the chance to ask what the hell he was on about, “some nitwit had this John Case box set delivered to my door this morning, because apparently some people have no idea when to fucking quit.”

“Yeah?” Jamie asked, unable to hold back a grin, because while Roy’s word had been gruff, there was a small smile in his eyes that said that they weren’t really. “Think that sounds like great gift, mate. Real thoughtful, like.”

Roy just snorted, but Keeley was clearly holding back a laugh, her eyes shining as they wandered between Jamie on her screen and Roy.

“It’s the last of them,” Jamie promised, just in case Roy actually thought he’d be keeping this up forever from now on. “But I’d already gotten it, so… “ He shrugged.

“It’s fine,” Roy said, then added off Keeley’s not at all discreet elbow to his side, “I mean, thank you.”

Jamie was about to tell him not to overdo it or he’d burst vessel or something, but was interrupted by his mum calling his name from downstairs. “Sorry,” he said. “Gotta go. Be heading back in thirty minutes, so I wanna make the most of it, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Keeley immediately said (almost covering Roy’s muttered we’re really not stopping you). “Go. And good luck with the game tomorrow, yeah? I’ll be in the box with Rebecca, cheering you on.”

“Decent, yeah. Um, thanks again. Merry Christmas.”

As he moved to end the call, Roy suddenly said, “Jamie, wait.”

Jamie waited. And waited, because whatever it was that Roy had on his mind, he apparently had a hard fucking time getting it out of his mouth.

Eventually, Jamie’s patience wore thin. “Mate, I’m not being funny, yeah. I really gotta go. You maybe wanna send me a fax instead?”

“Oh, that’s very funny,” Roy growled. “The fuck happened to you not being a prick, huh?” Then he made a face, looking pained. “Actually, and I can’t fucking believe I’m about to say this, but maybe sometimes you need to be a prick. Not to people,” he added with narrowed eyes, having apparently caught the way Jamie lit up at that, “but on the fucking pitch. I mean, sometimes. Not all the time. But sometimes, being selfish and going for the shot and getting in the other players heads by being an utter cunt like only you fucking can is better than passing the ball.”

Jamie gaped at him, but before he had time to say anything or ask how the hell he was supposed to know when it was the right time to be a prick, Roy muttered a curt, “That’s it. Bye,” and ended the call.

“Um, rude,” Jamie told the black screen. He was half tempted to call Keeley again, just to tell her bye properly (and maybe tell Roy… something, Jamie wasn’t totally clear on what, because Roy had been rude, but he’d also told Jamie to be a prick sometimes, and had almost smiled at him several times, and that was all just a bit confusing), but he hadn’t lied when he said he wanted to make the most of his time with Mummy before he needed to leave for London again.

“We’re not done, mate,” he told poster-Roy sternly, before adding a far softer, “Good night, Keeley,” to poster-Keeley

And then he headed downstairs, back to Mummy and the rest of his Christmas, and then – when he’d hugged her ten times or a hundred – he headed to London, back to his team and the rest of his life, and it came to him as he sat on the train with the midwinter night speeding past him, that he was travelling both from home and to home and that it was well fucking mint.

25. Epilogue

Roy called her in the evening, as Keeley was carefully removing her make-up in front of the bathroom mirror. It had been a long day, a stifled Christmas lunch with her mother followed by Richmond’s home game against Norwich in the afternoon. At least Richmond had won, managing a by the skin of their teeth 1-0 after a late and defiant goal by Jamie.

She thought she’d seen him looking up at the VIP box as the team celebrated around him, and she’d blown him a little kiss, even if she knew the distance was too far for him to catch it.

Next to her, Rebecca had raised one perfectly plucked eyebrow in a perfect expression of slightly sceptical interest. “And here I thought you were here to support me.”

“I am here to support you,” Keeley had said firmly. “Because I’m an amazing friend and I’d show up to support you with chants and balloons of cute animals and stuff at your murder trial, especially if Rupar’s the victim. But I told you, he’s been having a rough time of it.”

Not telling Rebecca about what had gone down with Jamie and Roy the other day had never been an option. Rebecca had listened with a frown, and asked if she needed to do anything about James Tartt. Keeley had said no, for the moment: Jamie needed to be the one to make the call on that.

“Hey you,” Roy said now, looking properly fit in the black suit he usually put on for his pundit appearances (and which, to the untrained eye, looked identical to all his other black suits, but Keeley knew him and fashion better than most, and thought the Hugo Boss was a particularly nice look on him).

“Hi, babe.” Keeley propped the phone against a moisturiser bottle, so she could continue her routine while they talked. “You back from work then?”

“Yeah. Took fucking ages, because Cartrick wouldn’t fucking shut up. You’d think he’d run out of things to be wrong about after six hours, but no, if the filming crew hadn’t started making noises about needing to go home to their families, we’d still be there.”

Keeley hummed in agreement, even though she suspected Roy was maybe exaggerating things a little. Sometimes it was best to just let him vent belligerently for a bit, get it out of his system. Besides, it was lovely to have him care about things enough to be pissed about them again. Roy was a passionate man, and Keeley loved him for it; having seen him go through the motions with nary a flicker of true feeling throughout the autumn had been awful.

Speaking of caring… “You catch any of the Richmond game?” she asked.

He grunted. “We didn’t really cover any of the Championship games, but yeah, saw some of the highlights.”

“Jamie played well, didn’t he? Seemed a little more aggressive than he’s been lately.”

Roy grunted again, but kept his mouth stubbornly shut. Not ready to talk about the advice he’d given Jamie last night, then. Fair enough; it’d keep.  

Roy kept on saying nothing, though, when normally he would have tried to move on by changing the subject or asking her about her day. When Keeley glanced over at the screen she saw that he was looking unhappy, dark eyebrows furrowed.

Keeley cocked her head to the side. “You all right, babe? Something on your mind?”

“No, it’s… “ He paused, and she waited, until finally he let out a frustrated huff. “It’s just Jamie’s fucking dad, right?” His lips curled. “I can’t stop thinking— Jamie was in a right fucking mess when I walked in on them. Not physically, it was just scrapes, but he was so fucking quiet. It wasn’t natural, not having the little muppet run his mouth like he was getting paid for it.”

“He seemed all right after,” Keeley said hesitantly, because Jamie had, when he left them on the morning of Christmas Eve and when they talked to him yesterday. Happier than normally, even. But Roy was right, it seemed a little strange in retrospect, that he had shaken it off so completely, given the state of him when she first arrived at Roy’s three nights ago. “You think he’s used to it,” she realised aloud. “That’s why he bounced back so quickly.”

“I know arseholes like that, okay? My sister fucking married one. So yeah, I don’t think it’s the first time it happened, and it probably won’t be the last either, and I keep on fucking wondering if his dad’s the reason he walked out on City, and City’s playing Chelsea in a couple of week s and I—“ He paused again. “I know it’s fucking stupid, it’s none of my business. I don’t even like the prick.”

Keeley had a sneaking suspicion that that wasn’t quite as true as it once had been, but she didn’t mention that. Let Roy reach that conclusion when he was ready to. “I think it’s sweet,” she said instead. “The way you stepped in when he needed you to, and took care of him. I mean it,” she added off his predictable eye-roll. “I’m really proud of you, babe. And,” she pressed on, because it was true and because she knew he tended to get a little uncomfortable when things got too earnest, “it was kind of sexy, too.”

Roy’s eyebrows rose at that. “You thought me taking care of Jamie was sexy? What happened to your thing being me crying pathetically?”

“Girls have deep and complex tastes, Royo. So yeah, you being vulnerable and passionate is really hot, but as it turns out, you being all caring and protective and fetching tea really gets me going as well.” She smiled at him and he scoffed, but smiled back. “Seriously, though,” she continued, “I was thinking we should ask Jamie over some day. Just hang out a little, make sure he’s all right.”

Roy’s eyes narrowed. “You better not be suggesting we invite him to Sexy Christmas.”

“No,” Keeley said with a small a laugh, even as the thought of it sent a pleasant shiver through her. Sex with Roy was fantastic. Sex with Jamie had always been amazing. Both of them, and with the way she suspected their tastes would run exceedingly compatible, with her and with each other… Well. A girl could dream (and maybe have a wank once she got of the phone with Roy). “But dinner sometime soon, yeah?

“Fine,” Roy said, sounding like he was only reluctantly agreeing to do her a favour, but she knew him well enough to see the relief in his dark eyes.

Fuck, but she loved him. The way he cared so deeply, even when he didn’t want to, and even when he would sneer at the assertion.

“You’re so fucking hot,” she told him. “I can’t wait for the 28:th.”

He smiled for real then, that wide grin he reserved for just her and sometimes Phoebe and his sister. “Me neither,” he agreed. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, see you then. Love you.”

“Love you.”

They hung up, and Keeley yawned. It was getting late, and she had to be up early tomorrow, for an entire day of what was supposedly just a bit of informal mingling for publicists, a little holiday get together on Jace Asthon’s country house, but which was in actuality the networking opportunity of the year for people in her line of business. She needed to be well-rested and looking ready to slay for this one, and had a bunch of people and business to read up on, potential sponsors and partners for Richmond.

She still took the time to send a couple of texts before turning out the lights.

hey jamie

got any plans for new year’s eve?

She hardly had time to set the phone down before it pinged with his reply.

Doesn’t really give a shit if I’m not playing for City.

Something slid into place then. “Is that why you did Lust Conquers All?” Roy asked. “To get away from you dad?”

Jamie didn’t answer, but that just said it all, didn’t it?

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 16th January

After a cracking start, we've got to our first multi-song week of 1958, and our first week with multiple versions of the same song. Thankfully, it's a fun bunch...

Kisses Sweeter Than Wine - Jimmie Rodgers (peaked at Number 7)

Jimmie Rodgers, in my head, was a country artist, but it turns out I'm confusing him with a different Jimmie Rodgers, who was a pioneering country artist, but who died in 1931. This Jimmie Rodgers was only born then. Which isn't at all confusing.

Still, while this song isn't the country number I quite expected, there are some folksy influences to it, and it's apparently based on the tune of an Irish folk song, An droimfhionn donn dilís, in which the country of Ireland is poetically compared to handsome brown cow. This song became known as Droimeann Donn, and then imported to the US as Drimmin Down, and its in this form that the blues artist Lead Belly picked it up, adding a bit more rhythm. The tune of this version gets picked up by the Weavers, whose version then gets covered by Jimmie Rodgers, but with different lyrics entirely. So it's quite roundabout, but there is a solid folk basis to this song, and overall, the vibe's not dissimilar to Sixteen Tons, or some other more American folk songs of the era, completely with a strummy bit of acoustic guitar and a lot of handclapping. It's a very appealing mix of things.

Lyrically, like I've said, we've completely lost all reference to handsome brown cows, and it's become a song about a man who bags himself a woman who has kisses sweeter than wine. So sweet are her kisses that he keeps accidentally progessing their relationship. So he asks her to marry him, and then whoops! Oh Lord, well she gave me her hand. They end up building up a life and a farm, and then whoops! Oh Lord, I was the father of twins. They end up with four kids, who all get married again and then whoops! Oh, Lord, the grandfather of eight! and then finally he gets to the end of his life and muses on how he'd do it all again. It's cute, and a fun gimmick, and by the end of it you're singing along to the little jaunt whoops!

The whole thing's also got these deep-voiced 1950s backing singers, just repeating lines like sweeter than wine, and clapping along gamely, only to drop out for the whoops! It's effective, in a fun, folksy way - good job, Jimmie!

Peggy Sue - Buddy Holly and the Crickets (6)

Another Buddy Holly number, and it's got all the hallmarks - that slightly nerdy, hiccupy voice, that guitar work and a sort of charmingly DIY, homemade vibe. It's good stuff, though listening to it, it doesn't actually do anything too wild. Instead, it's a song that's all just about layering up sounds and creating a specific atmosphere.

Lyrically, for example, it's beyond straightforward. We don't go for anything much more than just I love you, Peggy Sue. Seriously, that's probably the most complex lyric in the whole thing, it's literally 90% Buddy repeating Peggy's name. And this isn't a problem, but yeah, it's definitely a track that's much more about what the instruments are doing, with the lyrics as a sort of extra bit of texture, Buddy's distinctively reedy, hiccupy voice just becoming another instrument in the mix.

So what instruments do we get here? Well, we've got a strummy guitar that basically just changes from one chord and then back to another from one bar to the next, in a repeating three-chord pattern, and we've got some drums that keep up a steady stream of paradiddles througout (a real term for a type rhythm that I learnt when looking up stuff about this track!) The drums are interesting, because they sound like they've been recorded from a distance, but with a heavy amount of echo on them, like somebody's playing them down a hallway from you - it's a fun, slightly thundery vibe.

The drums and guitar together make for a really simple, stable groove that you can keep up for a whole song without needing a whole lot of variation. And that's exactly what the Crickets do, here. It actually felt really familiar on the first listen through - immediately, Unbelievers by Vampire Weekend sprang to mind, but I bet if I was specifically listening, I'd find this exact same sound elsewhere, precisely because it's so straightforward and versatile. Still, it needs something to break it up - and just when you're thinking that, we get an electric guitar solo. Just like the drums, there's something a bit DIY to this. It's not a polished solo, or a particularly complex one, and the sound's choppy and rough. All of which adds to the "teens in their basement" charm of this song - it feels like something that sounds good, but that you and your mates could achievably play together, not some unattainable virtuoso thing. Which I think is a good part of the appeal, here. It's not a song I love deeply, but I can see the charm, you know?

Peggy Sue, if you're wondering, was the drummer's then ex-girlfriend - they had just broken up - who was apparently really embarrassed when she first heard the song. Which is awkward, and it could be even worse - it was apparently initially named Cindy Lou after Buddy's niece! Still, there's a happy ending to all this, because Peggy and the drummer, one Jerry Allison, did eventually get back together and get married, which is sweet. There's also a sequel song that the band did, called Peggy Sue Got Married, so that's kind of neat too!

Kisses Sweeter Than Wine - Frankie Vaughan (8)

Hey, we've heard this song already! It's definitely the same song as Jimmie, so I'm not going to get too deep into the song itself. Especially not because Frankie's version and Jimmie's version are actually fairly similar. Both use Lead Belly's rhythms, and the Weavers' lyrics, and put the same little spin on the whoops! bits. They're trying to do the same thing, and the overall result is pretty similar.

I will say, Frankie, true to form, is a bit more of a performer. Whereas Jimmie leant into the folksiness with a strummy guitar and not much else, Frankie's got a dramatic bit of violin right at the start that comes back later on, in the background. His backing singers are a bit more dramatic, too - you've got the same deep men's group repeating the phrase sweeter than wine, but you've also got some women who come in now and again, and the clapping, rather than just providing a backing throughout the song, come in and out to give the chorus added oomph. It's a lot showier, as a result.

And of course, Frankie is also very cheesy. Jimmie went up a little bit on the whoops! but Frankie turns it into a full-on comedy bit, and almost sounds like he's laughing as he comes out of it, each time. His little mmm-mmmm is that little bit more cartoonish, like he's licking his lips, and he hams it up at the end just that little bit more. The end result is just that bit less subtle, and honestly, it's the worse for it, in my books. Oh, well.

Both of these aren't quite country tracks, and this got me thinking - country's not been as well represented in the charts, in recent months, but we have seen a fair bit of folk music, either in its pure American form, or in British-infused skiffle form, and we've also seen quite a lot of more country-tinged rockabilly rock and roll, which is really the tradition that artists like the Everlys and the Crickets are coming out of. Even Elvis and Jerry Lee Lewis are sometimes picking up that country, bluesy twang a bit. So it's kind of interesting to see "legit" country disappear a bit, even as its descendants take over the charts.

Favourite song of the bunch: Peggy Sue

[rice-enjoyer]

Bow down to your god ; darling, heed my words of command!

a/n: woohoo, new rice post! kokomi came home within 7 pulls! so, since i can't sleep, i have a slightly suggestive piece of writing to celebrate it with, ft. unsympathetic sagau y/n! ;-) this is how she discovers just what type of god you truly are. yes, this also lowkey counts as a fatui brain rot, the usual. taking kokomi to snezhnaya because you need a trusty leader and diplomat at your side for some affairs to go smoothly. not proofread, also very typical of me. head empty hit post! ~0.7k words cw: gn reader, my version of sagau(read here), is a little suggestive, power-dynamics but it's sagau so are you really surprised, tad bit cult-ish. it is EXTREMELY implied that kokomi gets coerced by reader to physically assault a creepy dude. mention of death like 1.5 times. pet names

--

The air is frigid, and so is everyone Kokomi has come across in this unwelcoming nation. You, the perfect god, being as gracious as you are, chose her as their travel companion for a negotiation of sorts to a faraway land. She's very excited to finally get out of Watatsumi on official matters, Gorou will do a fine job, as her substitute on the island, he always has.

She's thinking about how she must show her utmost best since she has your hand on her waist, which is already making her overheat in such a harsh climate. Sometimes you pull her suddenly closer so that you could feel her hips touch your legs. And other times your hand would travel on her sides, she must be so cold in an outfit like that, you are only doing her a little favour for warming her up a bit. She denied a coat after offering 4 times, so you had to do something to not make her freeze up. Her flushed face is really quite a treat to glance at once in a while.

After enduring what felt like hours being stared at by every person with seething jealousy and a mix of desire to be in her place, entering a palace that looked quite cold. You wait for a little, as everyone there greets you with respect and...fear?

You drag poor Kokomi to a more secluded room, being in front of what she can only think to be an archon. "You know, I have bought a cute little diplomat of my own with me, see? Isn't she just adorable?" You chat with her as if you were old friends catching up. Your voice resonates within the walls. Your smile is different. Is the priestess really worth bragging about? Kokomi's face lights up again, avoiding eye contact with you.

Her plan was flawless, other than the fact you turned her chin slightly to face you again. You walk to what seems to be a meeting room. "I trust you understand the game I'm playing here, dear. Be good and play along, would you?" Kokomi nods frantically. So many unfamiliar faces, ones she has only heard or read about, greeting her with... the same smiles you have on your face when in public. Oh.

Your warmth, albeit a bit too hard to handle when directed at her, still makes her rather thankful. So many important and influential people, who were known to be rather unpleasant in person, were unexpectedly civil. Kokomi sits at your side at a big table, not leaving your side, making some very useful remarks. You smile at her, nodding.

However, since she saw how you treated a new agent who just gave you the wrong document, his hands shaking. You hold power differently here. She notices the icy blueness in your eyes now, with much more clarity of who you really are. Such a strategic way of thinking, she has much, much to learn from you.

At the end of almost 3 hours of talking, you and Kokomi exit the palace, some recruit makes a comment about Kokomi, about her build, and not the one you'd compliment dancing or fighting on. His remarks are quite disgusting, to be frank. He's making direct eye contact with you while saying them.

You've seen this so many times. Desperate and miserable people want to die by your hand. Kokomi's face shows clear signs of discomfort and anger. "This one has a death wish, from me specifically. Look at him, such a lousy pest. - You sigh loudly, thunder sparkling in your eyes to smite him into the ground, not hard enough to kill him but to teach a lesson when an idea pops into your head.

"There is no need to be civil now, we are on Snezhnayan grounds and outside of the palace, you know. Not a word gets out about what I usually do here, it's a good system for keeping such secrets. Go ahead, show me your military expertise on the field, I'm oh so very curious." You take a few steps back, the man trying to retreat from what's to come. Maybe this will make Kokomi's energy levels rise back up? It is quite similar to what she does to destress, theory of battle should have the same effect as practice of battle, no?

[charincharge]

i was watching reputation stadium tour and i have to ask, can you rank all the songs in reputation, best to worse??? im so curious ☺️

the WHEW OKAY. Here’s my disclaimer -- I LOVE reputation. Like... so so so much. So even the songs that are ranked at the bottom are still higher than SO many other Taylor songs. And honestly, my taste is subjective so really this is more of a list of favorites/least favorites. But. Here we go. I’m gonna go worst to best, though. To build up suspense 😂 Here we go.

15. So It Goes -- there’s a reason this song was the only rep song she didn’t perform on tour and it’s not because it was “too sexy” -- it’s frankly, a little boring.

14. Gorgeous -- it’s fine, I guess, but it’s usually a skip for me

13. This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things -- a BOP to be sure, and I enjoy singing it at the top of my lungs, but the “I can’t even say it with a straight face” makes me cringe ever so slightly still

12. New Years Day - I am shocked to have this song so low in the rankings because last year it was my number one most played song lol. But, I think it’s just pretty. It does read a bit like a diary entry in a more youthful Taylor way that I love.

11. ...Ready For It - I am fairly certain she wrote this song just so she could open her tour with “BABY LET THE GAMES BEGIN” -- because as we all know, Tay LOVES a game. The rap reallllly took me out the first time I listened to it. Like, I could not understand who this Taylor was and what she was doing. It took me about 10000 listens of this song to even come around to it, which is why it’s still at the bottom. But I adore it now and it lives in my heart with love.

10. King of My Heart - As the song says, “perfectly fine.” That’s pretty much how I feel about it lol. Love the drums and the BRDIGE (that bridgeeee!) but the verses drag it down. There, I said it.

9. I Did Something Bad - Listen, I LOVE this song. But when it stacks up in the rankings, this is where it falls. The tour version is far superior to the album version and it gave us incredible quotes like - If a man talks shit then I owe him nothing - which, truly, is my mantra. But ultimately, too petty to be top fav.

8. Delicate - an instant classic, solidly in the middle.

7. Look What You Made Me Do - this song gets SO much more shit than it deserves. It is WILD, it is BOLD, it is everything I wanted from Taylor. She put on a new skin and said, this is who I am and you can’t get rid of me. Plus, that music video is a literal masterpiece stacked with THOUSANDS of easter eggs, I don’t know that she can ever top it. 

6. End Game - I am a Sweeran stan through and through (I know people hate him but I do not careeeee), and the first time I listened to this I was like WHAT IS THIS but also I LOVE IT. Taylor put on her rapping shoes and she was TERRIBLE at it, but I enjoyed it thoroughly. 

5. Call It What You Want - “all my flowers grew back as thorns” just really spoke to me at the time this album was released, the idea of recovering from trauma is wrapped up in this beautiful song, and I wish it got more love!

4. Dress - if I was asked what the thesis of reputation was, i’d answer “DRESS” -- it’s all about this beautiful love story unfolding in secret, having to hold back because it’s forbidden and forced to put on a different more socially acceptable veneer for the public, it really is the definition of: “we think we know someone, but the truth is that we only know the version of them they have chosen to show us”

3. Don’t Blame Me - so raw, so honest, so Kaylor (the DAISY DRAWING in the liner notes, I MEAN), her vocal range?! -- it’s a tried and true blues song, with call and response, even, and it’s such a departure from anything she’d ever done before, it continues to blow me away every time I listen to it

2. Getaway Car - honestly, this song is a God-Tier Taylor Song for me. Lyrically STUNNING, the syncopated rhythms she experimented with, the soundplay to have the rhythm sound like sirens (genius!), all put together with Jack’s magical producing touch... it’s the single we deserved and I’m still sad we didn’t get it.

1. Dancing With Our Hands Tied - I could write a literal essay on why I love this song, but I’m not sure anyone would be interested. It’s the aftermath of kissgate, it’s about what it’s like to fall in love with someone the world won’t let you be with in the most isolating and harrowing kind of way, and I don’t think another song better encapsulates the queer experience of not being ready to be out but being painfully, suffocatingly in love. It’s the musicality, the beat drop, the whispering. It speaks to my soul in a way that so few songs do. Anyway. It’s perfect. No notes. (also particularly obsessed with the acoustic tour version because it feels like how it was written, just a girl alone, in pain with her guitar).

Anyway, that’s it. My rep rankings. Hope you enjoyed. Thank you for this, it was truly fun. 

[iguessitsjustme]

BL ~ Drama Asks

Still home sick and bored so why not. Thanks to @pose4photoml for tagging me

1.     If you had to watch one drama forever what would it be?

I’m taking this to mean that I can only watch this one drama and nothing else and it might surprise people but my answer isn’t a BL. It’s Vincenzo. I love that show. But since this is a BL asks game, I’ll also choose a BL for this...I’m gonna say Old Fashion Cupcake. It’s short but it hit all of my sweet spots (no pun intended) and I can’t see myself ever growing tired of it.

2.     If you could change the ending of a drama which one would it be?

Just one drama? How about two? My Gear and Your Gown and Enchante. MGAYG could have been so good, it just needed to be tightened up a bit and not throw in that random drama at the end. And Enchante was so very good until that ending.

3.     Name your favorite drama and tell who your favorite character was.

My favorite drama? Probably A Tale of A Thousand Stars and my favorite character was definitely Tian.

4.     Name a drama you dropped within the first few episodes ~ we all have at            least one!

I literally just dropped Check Out after 2 episodes. I’m not saying I’ll never finish it but I hated Nine so much I just couldn’t and then I kept hearing that it doesn’t really get better.

5.     Name a popular drama you've never watched and why?

I Told Sunset About You. I KNOW it’s good okay. I know it is. It just feels too real and I simply don’t want something that real. At least not right now. I will probably watch it eventually, just not any time soon.

6.     Name a drama you regret watching.

So I binged Hong Kong’s version of Ossan’s Love and then I immediately binged Japan’s version and I would not recommend anyone do this ever. It did weird things to my brain. It’s the same exact show but one is slightly more exaggerated (HK) and one is ever so slightly more serious (Japan). It’s a fine show just...don’t do what I did.

7.     Name a drama you thought you’d never watch but did and did you end up            liking it?

Cherry Blossoms After Winter. I’m normally not a fan of the stepbrothers trope and was going to not watch this, but I heard that it was actually cute and decided to give it a try and I am so glad I did. It is just genuinely one of the most wholesome and soft shows I’ve ever seen.

Also Secret Crush On You. I was very concerned about the stalker angle after reading the MDL summary but it started airing when I didn’t have a lot else to watch so I gave it a try and it ended up becoming one of my favorite shows ever.

8.     Name a pairing you want to see?

MacauChay. Also HinTum from Lovely Writer. I was happy to get bi representation with Tiffy but then I ended up hating her because she just decided that Tum was gay for reasons I can’t even fathom.

9.     Name a pairing you didn’t think had chemistry?

YuThanu. What even were they? They seemed like they were both from different alien species trying to convince the other one they were human and definitely wanted this relationship, yes, they definitely wanted it. I have more chemistry with the 30 pairs of socks I found on the ground by the dumpster than these two had with each other.

10.  Name a pairing you have seen in another drama that you like?

I’m guessing this means a pairing that’s in multiple shows that I like? I don’t actually have an answer for this. If it’s about the actors, then I’m not really a big fan of pairing actors together and basically making them a set. If it’s about characters, then I’d honestly rather only see the pairing in one show because otherwise that means there’s a second season and I do not trust second seasons.

I’m not going to tag anyone today, but if you want to do this, please go ahead. Just tag me in it so I can see your answers.

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 7

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!!

Chapter 1   Chapter 2  Chapter 3    Chapter 4  Chapter 5   Chapter 6

Chapter 7

“I love this...” I whispered, arms wrapped around his neck, staring up into Jungkooks face as he rocked his hips against mine , hands stroking my hips gently as the hard length of him dragged inside me , almost gentle as he placed soft kisses on my brow. 

“What? “ he smiled. 

“You inside me... it feels.. i feel complete somehow..” 

He smiled sweetly, kissing the corner of my lips. 

“You’re so warm and wet and I think you’re perfect.” He breathed against my cheeks, pillow soft lips pressing smooches down my jaw and up to my lobe. 

“I liked ...tonight. “I said shyly and he grimaced.

“I may have gone a little overboard..” He said sheepishly, grunting as he thrust a little harder and I closed my eyes , savoring the feeling of him inside me. 

“But I liked it. Liked that I couldn’t even watch the fireworks because of ...well another kind of fireworks..” I laughed.

He grinned.

“ I aim to please.” 

“Good. Then why dont you hurry up and fuck me like you mean it.” I said with a wink and his eyes narrowed, flashing red.

“You never learn, do you angel?” 

I laughed as he pulled out and flipped me over, fingers sinking into hair, hand gripping my waist as he rove straight into me with a force that shook the bed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“On a scale of one to ten, how mad would your siblings be if you don’t go back to your bed tonight?” Jungkook whispered, burying his face in the slightly damp strands of my hair, breathing deeply before going back to running a small fluffy towel through the strands. 

I stared up at the ceiling , eyes at half mast because I was so sleepy, still pleasantly warm from the hot bath I’d just had . I was dressed in one of Jungkook’s big white t shirts , lying sideways on his bed with my head hanging over the edge because y hair was still wet. Jungkook being the perfect man that he was , was towel drying my wet locks for me. 

“Probably a twenty?” I grimaced. “ I need to be up early to go down to the kitchen. We’re taking the kids out to the park remember?” 

Jungkook groaned.

“Minae needs to be kept away from the sugar ... I am not going to piggy back her for two straight hours like yesterday.” He swore. 

i laughed, rolling over and smiling at him. 

“ She has a crush on you.” I grinned, waggling my eyebrows at him. 

He shook his head laughing. 

“I’m too old to be dealing with four year olds that have a crush on me., “He shuddered. I smiled, shaking my head because , Jungkook was the one who had begun helping out with the children and he was often the first to offer a piggyback ride to the kids. 

Being a single father, I knew he had experience with kids, of course. But still it was quite something watching him handle them with confident hands and a ridiculously kind disposition. And he didn’t shy away from  anything. Changing toddlers out of nappies, cleaning spit up off my office desk , even offering his nails for the smitten Minae to color with her markers.  

And it felt good to have him around, his presence somehow grounding me even during the most hectic of times. Story time with Mr. Jeon,  was fast becoming a thing, with Jungkook gathering all the younglings around him in a circle and regaling them with tales from his life ( a toned down, child friendly version of it of course ) while I set up the beds in the nap room, every afternoon. 

The kids slept for about an hour every afternoon and that was the time we ate our lunch, the workers heading off to the kitchen while Jungkook and I shared a meal cook sent up for us. The small stone bench on the yard was right outside the window of the nap room, and leaving the window open helped us keep an eye on the kids while we ate. 

Not too mention the effect it had on Joo Won. 

Although he spent most of his time with Somi and Jimin in the other cottage , learning his number work and language skills, he occasionally ran up to his father, eager to show off his work. Jungkook always dropped whatever he was doing to shower praises on his son and the boy thrived under the attention. 

The idea that I could do this with him for the rest of my life, was impossible to push out of  my head. 

But i wouldn’t bring it up. 

I would enjoy this , now while I had it and I would wait for him of course but I wasn’t going to play games with him. 

“I’m not meeting anyone else anymore.” I said quietly. 

He gave me a look. 

“anyone as in?..”

“Any vampires. potential suitors” I said with a shrug. “ I’m not going to. I’m going to tell my father I’m... not interested in it anymore.” 

Jungkook stopped his ministrations and gave me a guilty laden look.

“Sera, about tonight-”

“Don’t you dare apologize.” I glared at him. “ I loved it. I love you , as I’ve told you often enough and I also understand that you’re not there yet. and I can wait.”

Jungkook looked away.

“That’s not fair to you.” He said hoarsely.

“Maybe. But it’s still my choice. And My life. And if I choose to spend that life pining over you for the rest of eternity , that’s upto me.” I shrugged. 

He merely stared at me, lips turned down in a frown. 

“You’re too young to understand what you’re asking for Sera. You don’t realize how powerful you are. I’m not... I’m not good enough for you.” He shook his head. “ Far from it.” 

I rolled my eyes. 

“What does that even mean? You’re a vampire. There’s literally nothing that stops us from being together than your twisted belief that you aren’t good enough. Which is so baseless I could laugh. ”

Jungkook stared at me. 

“It’s not just about me. What about the kind of power you would have with the right vampire? not to mention the people in my life that  would want me fucking dead sera? You think everyone would just let it go? Me , a fucking nobody marrying the most adored girl in  our kind???  ” he laughed in disbelief. 

i frowned. 

“What do you mean ?”

Jungkook opened his mouth to elaborate but the door to his bedroom slammed open at that exact same moment and I jumped, terrified. Scrambling to my knees, I crawled back to the headboard just as Jungkook swore, moving to the door , bodychecking the figure that crashed through. 

“JEON FUCKING JUNGKOOK GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HER!!!!!” 

I felt my eyes widen in horror as my brother in law launched himself across the room, fingers closing right around Jungkook’s neck as he rammed into him, the two of them skidding across the floor and crashing into the ornate fireplace with a noise loud enough to wake the dead.

I stared, my brain unable to process what I was seeing. 

My sister appeared, eyes wild and panicked.

“Oh God... Sera I’m so sorry...he came to your room and saw you were gone...” she began but then stopped.  

Her eyes fell on the pandemonium in the corner and she yelped. 

“jIMIN!!!!” She screamed, rushing to the corner where the two vampires were locked together in a scuffle and the only thing I could think about was the fact that I was naked underneath his t shirt and if anyone else walked in-

“What is this ruckus?” The loud booming noise was familiar and terrifying and i squeaked, diving for the covers and crawling in as I stared horrified. The figure that appeared in the doorway was so imposing that all of us went still. Even Jungkook’s eyes widened as he took in the gargantuan man framed in the entryway. 

Hwang Jaebum was seven feet tall, 1800 years old and the scariest Vampire i had ever seen in my entire life. His skin was shriveled , his eyes permanently red and he stared at the two fighting vampires , now frozen and gawking at the towering vampire and he scrunched his nose in disgust before his red eyes flashed and landed on me. 

“There you are.” He said softly. “Sweet Seraphina.” 

The name, God.

 My uncle had named me and no one called me that but him. 

I swallowed, clutching the covers as sheer unadulterated terror coursed through my veins. I knew my uncle wouldn’t hurt me but still, power radiated off him in waves and I did not want to be on the receiving end of his displeasure. 

“Come here , child. Let me look at you.” 

I winced. 

Before I could react though, Jungkook was climbing on the bed, scrabbling to kneel right in front of me, arms stretched out to keep me from the vampire’s view. 

“Who the fuck are you?” He snarled and I gasped, stunned. God, Uncle Jae had killed people for less. 

I grabbed Jungkook quickly, pulling him back into my arms and away from the vampire who now looked suitably furious. 

“That’s my uncle. Shut up.” I hissed quickly. Jungkook didn’t show any sign of backing down, still crouched in front of me, muscles locked in a fighting stance and I clutched his shoulders, burying my face in his back. 

“Jungkook relax...” I begged but he merely grabbed my hand where it lay wrapped on his waist, squeezing gently. 

“It’s okay baby, I’m here.” He was still glaring at my uncle who peered over him to lock eyes with me. 

“Who is this? Why are you in his bed, Seraphina? “ My Uncles’ voice rumbled through the room, echoing off the rafters and Jimin and Somi scrambled to their feet. 

“Sire.... We didn’t know you were here already..” Jimin began, moving to stand in front of him but Jaebum ignored him, moving closer to the bed. 

“Who are you? Tell me now.” He snarled. 

I stared at the anger flashing in my uncle’s eyes  and I swallowed. 

“He is her intended, brother.” My father’s voice came from the doorway and i jumped a bit, staring over at the door. 

My father came floating in, face calm but eyes narrowed in annoyance as he stared at me. I found myself wilting under the glare. He was upset, Rightfully so. 

My uncle frowned, glancing at my father in disbelief. 

“She is betrothed?” He frowned. “ Why was I not informed of this?” 

My father gave him a reassuring smile.

“It is fairly new, this courtship. Jungkook and Sera are very fond of each other and they have my blessing.”

Next to me Jungkook had gone as pale as parchment. He moved up and away from me and my entire body went cold. 

I reached for his hand, flinching when he yanked it away.

Fuck.

Fuck. 

“I need to speak to the boy. What is your name boy?” My uncle growled at Jungkook. 

“Jeon Jungkook , sire.:”

He frowned.

“What clan are you from?” 

I flinched.

My father looked a little uncomfortable.

“Surely we can talk about this-”

“I was bitten , Sire.It’s just me and my son, now.” Jungkook’s voice was deep and steady and he stared right at my uncle. 

Uncle Jae’s eyes widened and then he stared at me.

“That is what you will settle for , Seraphina? A mongrel with tainted blood?” 

The sharp sound of hurt that came from Jungkook shattered my heart. 

But it was my father who growled, affronted. 

“That is enough. You are a guest , Jaebum and I will not have you insulting my daughter’s betrothed. Leave him be.”

My uncle laughed.

“It is not an insult. It is a fact...is it not, boy? Look at him... he knows his place. And it not by  her  side.” 

“Jungkook, don’t listen to him ...” i whispered feverishly , reaching for him again not letting him pull away and gripping his fingers hard. His fingers felt icy cold to the touch and there was no mistaking the sheer hurt radiating off his features. 

“Unless the girl is in trouble, I think you should sever the connection, Jaehyun.” My uncle snapped at my father . 

“We shall talk about this later. For now, I want you to remember your place, Jaebum. You have duties to attend to and my daughter’s choice is her own. I will not have you interfering in things that you aren’t responsible for.” My father’s voice was just as loud, radiated just as much authority and i had never loved him more. 

Jaebum scoffed once again before turning on his heel and leaving . I sagged in relief and Jungkook, got off the bed, moving away from me so quickly I felt like someone had stuck a knife in my gut. 

“Jimin and Somi, come. Jungkook , Sera. I want the two of you to come to my office after you fix yourself up.” My father said coldly. 

“Yes, Sir.” Jungkook bowed. 

“Yes,  father.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Father....I...”

“You slept with him. “ My father said thoughtfully and I stared at my feet. There was no point denying it. 

“Has he agreed to court you?” He said sharply. 

I looked up at him, biting my lips.

“No.” I whispered.

My father’s eyes widened and he shot me a glare that could melt gold. 

“He fed from you during the act?” He demanded. I felt the phantom throb in my thighs at the memory. 

“Yes, father. “ I admitted.

“Then I must ask. Was it consensual?  Did you influence him in any way Seraphina.” 

My heart turned over, tears springing at the accusation. 

“No... No .. I didn’t.. he doesn’t know.. he doesn’t even know I can do that.” I whispered. 

“Could you have done it unconsciously? If Jungkook fed from you and you were near him you could have convinced him to do anything. He wouldn’t have been able to consent. You know this, Sera. I don’t understand how you could be so reckless. We are not monsters. We know our limits and we stick to them for fuck’s sake.” 

“He... we... I... It’s my fault. He didn’t.. He didn’t want to court me so I convinced him we could just...fool around. That was all it was. He loves his son father. He’s only here to give him a better life. I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry for being so selfish and ..Please just don’t send him away. I’ll never meet him again if that’s what you want but please....don’t send him away. .” I stared at my father, feeling the tears sting. 

My father’s gaze softened but he sighed, shaking his head as he held his arm out. I walked into his embrace, letting the tears fall as I clutched his robe. 

“You have not been selfish, dearest. . But, no matter who are, we cannot covet what we are never meant to have . Jungkook is not for you.” He whispered into my hair and I felt my insides clench in rebellion, every part of me screaming in protest at the phrase. 

No.. No... he was mine.. he had to be mine....

I was his and he was mine.

“ I’m going to offer him the position as head of the security team.” My father aid gently and I shuddered. 

“Father..”

“It will pay well. He will be working from the administrative building close to me. . There’s no reason for your paths to cross. Namjoon will take over as your bodyguard from tomorrow.” 

i nodded. 

“I want you to remember who you are. What you are capable of. I raised you to be kind and gentle but that does not change who you are, Sera. It doesn’t change what you are.” he said gently, eyes firm. 

I swallowed.

“You may leave.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook stared at the whiskey decanter on the table. watching Sera’s father pour him a drink. His eyes focused on the golden liquid, the way it caught the light and danced with all the colors of autumn. 

“I’m going to ask you one thing. I want you to answer me, as truth fully as you would your own father.” 

Jungkook was a father, himself. He knew the anger and trepidation in the man’s gaze was real. He knew exactly what it felt like, that desperate clawing need to keep your child safe. To destroy anything that dare hurt them. 

“Do you love my daughter?” The man’s voice shook a little. 

“I cannot court her.” He whispered. “ I’m not... I can’t. “

“That is not what i asked .” The older man said gently. 

He shook his head.

“I don’t have the right to feel anything but respect for her, sir.” Jungkook said softly. 

The vampire shook his head laughing.

“Your eyes tell me all you refuse to say, Jungkook ah. You care deeply for her, do you not?  it is obvious in the tremble of your hand. it was obvious in the way you stood up to my brother, when surely everything in your blood must’ve screamed to back away from a Vampire of such a high ranking. ” 

Jungkook clenched his fists. 

Sera’s father went on. 

“I know you love her and honestly, If you didn’t.... you wouldn’t be alive right now.” 

Jungkook winced. 

“Yes , sir.” He croaked. 

“I will destroy entire continents for my daughter. You know this. “ He said quietly. 

Jungkook nodded. He believed the man . 

“Which is why I must ask. Who is after you?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped up, eyes widening in surprise. 

“Sir...”

“I’m not the head of the largest clan in the country for nothing. You are protecting your son...but from what? A man of your reputation , choosing to stay inside an estate , helping out with infants and children.... it doesn’t make sense. So tell me. What are you hiding from? And how can I help?” 

Jungkook stared at his hands. 

“It’s Joowon’s grandfather. The man who’s daughter I killed.” 

Sera’s father stiffened. 

“Ahh... yes. Gong Tae Kwan. An old nemesis .” He shook his head, sighing. “ You’ve made a powerful enemy , Jungkook.”

Jungkook nodded.

“I know. I’m no match for him. And I know he’s  not going to stop until he kills me and my son.” 

“You’re right. He’s not going to stop. Now, what so you want to do? Hide out till he finally catches up or confront him like the warrior you are?” 

“i can’t do it. I need to be here for Joo Won.... It would be suicidal...”

“ Only if you’re alone. “

“Sir?”

“It would be suicidal , if you were to confront him alone.” 

“Are you saying that...”

“I’m going to be there with you. We are going to lure the bastard out , and we are going to end this once and for all.”

“Sir, i can’t ask you to...”

“You’re not asking me damn thing kid. I’m doing this for my daughter’s sake. And you are going to repay me by making her as happy as you possibly can.” He said sternly. 

Jungkook flushed

“Sir.. I’m sorry I...”

“When this ends, and it will....you will court her. You will court her, because unlike what you think, you do not get to decide whether you’re worthy of being my daughter’s consort. She does.” He gave him a smile, reaching out and clamping a hand on his shoulder. “  If she chooses you it means you’re worthy. And she has chosen you , Jeon Jungkook . Don’t be the idiot who walks away from the best thing to ever happen to him, son. ” 

Jungkook stared at him.

He took a deep breath. 

“Yes, father.” He said with a small smile. 

The older man laughed out loud. 

“Excellent. Now come, we have a murder to plot. “ 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Well....now the plot picks up... :D :D feedback is always welcomed !! Come scream with me about how amazing Sera’s father is!!!!

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@nikkiordonez12​

drop me a message if i missed you name for the tag list Thank you. 

[fandom-strumpet]

Game Night Confession- Part 1

 Summary: It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house and after a few drinks and games they start the game 7 Minutes in Heaven. It’s not what you think, the bottle lands on Elena and Y/N.

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Word Count: 1,769

It’s Game Night at the Salvatore boarding house, the crew is there, including Rebekah. She had been on her best behavior lately so was ‘allowed’ to come but she in reality she crashed the party and no one had the energy to make her leave. Damon went down to the cellar and brought out one of his bourbon’s and started pouring it into glasses with ice. The night started off with Twister but the more you all drank, the more difficult it became and you all agreed to move onto the next game. Caroline pulled out Cards Against Humanity and finally the game ended when Stefan won with 6 black cards.

 “I know what game to play next!” Rebekah squealed, “7 Minutes in Heaven!”

 Damon groaned and tossed his head back to take a shot but it was obvious he was interested as well. 

Elena spins first, with a hopeful look that it might land on Stefan. Unfortunately, the bottle landed on you. 

“Ooh” Rebekah squirms in excitement. 

You give a small huff. Elena shares the ‘Oh well.’ look with you as you both head to the closet. 

Hollering back you say, “Remember the rules! No vamp hearing to listen in!” 

A chorus of yes’ and agreement sound back. Shutting the heavy oak door with a thud, Elena turns and clicks the little light bulb on. You and Elena both stood awkwardly in silence for a moment. 

Whispering, you ask Elena, “How about we play a different version of the game?” 

“What would that be?” Elena tilted her head and squinted curiously.

 “We both tell each other a deep and dark secret. We’ll be sworn to secrecy-”

 “What happens in the closet, stays in the closet.” Elena finishes with a coy smile. “Alright, I’ll go first,” she takes a deep breath in, “I kissed Katherine.”

 Your jaw drops open and you fail to come up with an immediate response resulting in an awkward silence. 

Elena speaks fast and continues, “Well, I mean, actually I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me just so she could bite my lip and get some blood.” 

“Bu- whu- uh-” You stuttter out.

 “I couldn’t bring myself to tell Stefan, it would be too weird... OKAY! Your turn!” 

“Um well, okaaay.” You shake your head in disbelief of what you had just heard. Letting out a shaky breath you feel butterflies in your stomach and a warm feeling that wasn’t there a moment ago. Its time someone knows anyway. “My deepest, darkest secret is that-” you pause to bite your lip,”I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker...” Your heart froze, looking into Elena’s eyes for a response.

 “You are absolutely crazy!” 

“Elena, remember you promised not to tell anyone.” 

“Y/N, I promise I won’t tell anyone. But- really? Kai?!”

 “I know, I know. It’s eating me up inside though. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Tell him.” she stated. 

“What and let everyone know I’m in love with Senor Psychopath?!” you started to raise your voice.

 “Shhhh.” Elena hushed.

 You sighed and then felt a cold wash over you. “Besides, he would never like me back.”

 “Y/N.” Elena grabbed your shoulders and forced your eyes to meet hers. “Just tell him.” 

“ONE MINUTE LADIES!” You could hear Damon snickering. 

You shrug off Elena’s grip, “Guess we better make some noise.” You smiled half-heartedly.

 “Yep.” Elena grinned, her eyes lighting up with mischief. “Ow! My hair!” she yelled and you stifled a laugh. 

You hit your fist against the closet wall in response. “Oooooohhh.” you moan. Elena hits the wall but a little too hard and it sends the coat clothing rod falling. Laughter erupts from the both of you as you fall to the floor in a tangled mess. Stefan opens the closet door and you roll out giggling with messy hair.

“Enjoy your 7 Minutes in Heaven ladies?” Stefan cocked an eyebrow and smiled. 

In the Living Room

The great oak door shut but the girls remained quiet. Getting bored, Damon poured himself another drink. Kai strutted into the living room, shaking himself like a wet dog after walking out in the rain. 

“Really Kai? This is leather.” Caroline rolled her eyes. 

“It’s seen worse Caroline, relax.” Damon scoffed.

“Mmmmm so what do you got to eat?” Kai makes his way to the kitchen rubbing his hands together. He pulls out a bag of pork rinds from under the sink. “Hope you weren’t going to eat these or anything.”

“Nooooo. Go ahead and eat whatever Kai.” Stefan glared. 

“Alright then.” Kai plops himself down onto the couch by Rebekah. “So what game are you guys playing?” 

“7 Minutes in Heaven.” Rebekah winked. 

“Y/N and Elena are in there right now.” Bonnie stated with a chuckle.

 “Now I gotta hear this.”

 “Kai! No!” Caroline yelled. “There’s no vamp hearing in this game.”

“Well I’m not playing am I?” Kai grinned. 

Caroline glared daggers at Kai and then looked to Stefan for help. “He’s got a point Care, he’s not playing so he can technically listen in.” 

“You are unbelievable.” she rolled her eyes and fell backwards into the couch. Bonnie grinned, it was always amusing to see Caroline get worked up over the smaller things.

 “What are they doing?” Damon asked lazily, “It’s too quiet.”

 “They’re doing confessions.” Kai pursed his lips.

 “Kai, you can’t tell us what they’re saying.” 

“Bonnie is right.” Caroline nodded with raised eyebrows. 

“I for one would love to know though Kai.” Damon patted Kai on the back. Kai delivered a devilish smile.

“Elena just confessed something juicy but it isn’t a surprise to me. Now for Y/N...” Kai froze. The color drained from his face upon hearing you say, “I am hopelessly, irrevocably in love with Malachai Parker.” He stood up fast and almost bolted out of the house. The front door slammed shut at his exit. 

“Well he disappeared fast.” Rebekah raised her eyebrows and Damon shrugged, looking back down into his glass. 

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

The next day after classes, you met up with Elena at The Grill. The thud of a backpack makes you look up from your notebook. 

“Hey!” 

“Hey, how’s it going?” Elena smiled and sat down across from you. 

“Oh, you know. It’s going. I’m so glad we could meet up for food and studying though. It was a great idea, thanks Elena.” 

Elena clears her throat and sneaks a glance to the door. “No problem, Y/N. Anything to help a friend.”

“First though- *you giggled* we need to order drinks and food.” 

Elena waved down the new blonde waitress so she could take your order. It didn’t take long for the both of you to decide on what to get. The Grill had the best strawberry lemonades and mozzarella sticks. The door gave it’s usual ding, and it drew your attention out of an age old habit. It was him. Malachai Parker, the most handsome and hot being on the face of the Earth. Your heart skipped a beat involuntarily and Elena didn’t miss it. She looked down into her drink quickly to hide the smirk that appeared on her face. She whirls the straw around in her strawberry lemonade, a drink both of you always got together. It was an all time favorite and the Grill served it the best.

 “I- uh- yeah sorry. What were you saying? I lost focus for a second..” 

She leaned forward to take a sip before starting. “You know, I’ll never understand how you could love Kai. BUT I will admit that he is a better person when he’s around you. He’s not as ‘psycho Kai’.”

 “Elena,” you hissed, “You promised not to say anything to anyone.” 

“And I’m not- I’m only talking about it to you. Don’t worry, I haven’t told anyone about what happened in the closet.” 

You sit back and cross your arms in the motion of fine. You nod your head and motion for her to continue.

 “I can see it in you too, Y/N. How much you love him, how your heart races and your eyes light up. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before but- you and Kai would actually be really cute as a couple.” 

Your heart leapt into your throat when Kai turned slightly to look around and caught your eye. He gave a little smile and wave. Damon turned to see who he was waving to and winked at Elena. 

“Hey Damon! Kai! Want to join us?” Elena yelled and you groaned inwardly as the guys stood up to join you in the booth.

 “How’s it going ladies?” Damon smiled cheesily. 

“Good, me and Y/N were just talking about-”

 “Homework.” you interrupted quickly, unsure if she was going to say something to reveal your secret. Elena gave you a smirk and took another sip of her drink. You looked down to see your half-gone lemonade while they talked about something random. It was so hard to focus when the amazing man you wanted to caress and love and hold tight was sitting merely six inches from you and it felt like he was getting closer? No- that’s not possible, just your imagination. Why do I feel so hot all of a sudden? You grabbed your left wrist under the table out of habit to make yourself stop squirming and try to focus. Kai cast his eyes to you every now and then , looking for your reaction to the funny jokes. He was acting like a normal friend. You could act like a normal friend- right? 

“You know what, Damon and I actually have a thing to go do downtown-” 

“We do?” Elena nudged him hard, “We were supposed to go see some new artwork and stuff. Come on, let’s go!” 

As they slid out of the booth, Elena gave you a wink and a small wave to Kai.

“Sooooo um, hi.” 

“Hey.” His smile was so enchanting it was hard to keep yourself focused on something other than his lips. He turned away from you and started digging into the mozzarella sticks and sauce. You always thought it was so cute and weird how Kai ate. He was something else entirely. You grinned to yourself and started to join him. There was a comfortable silence as you ate, when the sticks were gone he licked his fingers with a pop and you felt your stomach tighten at the sight. Looking down at his drink he muttered, “Irrevocably. That’s a big word.” Then continued to seduce the straw with his tongue until it entered his mouth. @1-800-khaleesii @rome5683 @tawaii

[still-a-morosexual-help]

OBEY ME! LESSON 58 DETAILED SUMMARY + DISCUSSIONS/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

This has two locked chapters. So I usually play one chapter and then write a summary for it and then play the next and so on, I don’t come back and edit the summaries or theories I write but this lesson is special enough that I had to come back and write a special intro to it. Hoo BOY! is this something! You think it’s gonna go the usual way with MC solving the problem demon by demon with each of them having some wacky fear and it is like that for a while until it nosedives into TRAUMAtm and ISSUEStm territory and becomes surprisingly dark. And for someone who loves speculating and coming up with theories this whole lesson was a goldmine, Enjoy!

Black mist swirls around the hall, Mammon & Levi shriek and the hall starts rattling until the mist forms pissed off demon Lucifer which makes Asmo yelp (and this is what I mean, the greatest common fear in this group (if you don’t consider Simeon and Lucifer) is probably pissed off demon Lucifer but on their own they’ll probably have different fears.) Levi stutters out that it’s lucifer and real lucifer tells him to calm his tits cause the he is actually with them. MC identifies it as the bogeyman (genius) and it starts shrieking for Mammon and Levi, which leads to Mammon screaming and Levi closing his eyes and chanting ‘no’ as they cling on to Belphie as the entire hall rattles again. Solomon happily tells MC ‘Welp there’s your exam, deal with it.’ Simeon’s slightly more helpful and tells them staying calm is the key. MC says they can do that. Solomon laughs and says that’s the answer he’d expect from his talented apprentice. MC uses a spell “light born of shadow” to repel the spirit, the spell and the spirit makes the wind howl and the hall shake and the spirit growl/groan. To escape the spell it flees into one of the hotel rooms and the hall suddenly becomes eerily quiet. Mammon collapses to his knees and Levi, with his eyes still closed, says he lost 500yrs of his life. Neither of them have still let go off Belphie. Lucifer calls them pathetic for being demons scared of a bogeyman (bro they’re scared of *you* akjdvkdfjjjkdn) Mammon snaps and says he ain’t scared of the bogeyman and Satan asks how he can say that after what they all saw. Levi says it’s not the bogeyman it’s a fully pissed off Lucifer he’s scared of. Mammon still insists he’s not scared. Levi tells him to shut up cause he was so scared he couldn’t stand, Mammon says he just wanted to sit down for a bit. Lucifer calls them pathetic again and Levi protests. Lucifer then says they must find a way to get rid of it for good cause it’ll start to come after each one of them individually. MC says maybe they can admit what they’re all afraid of so that they’ll know what they will be facing ahead of time. Solomon agrees with this plan and tells them to start with the oldest and work their way down, listing their fears. Asmo calls Solomon out on using this as an excuse to find Lucifer’s weaknesses to use later. Solomon smiles and says he’d never do that, Belphie says the look on his face suggests different. Beel says that there’s probably nothing that scares Lucifer and Lucifer says that nothing comes to mind (and this feels like when you’re a child and think your parents are all knowing and invincible only to get a sometimes painful reality check later). Mammon says he doesn’t get scared, Levi calls him a liar and says pissed off demon Lucifer scares him and then he goes on to list fears based off being an otaku (eg: the final ep of a series he loves and etc). Simeon cuts Levi off as his list grows and asks Satan. Satan straight up says “Nothing scares me.” And Simeon smiles and says it takes a lot of confidence to say that (yeah even Lucifer said that in terms of a greatest fear “nothing comes to mind” implying he’s felt fear before and probably had moments of ‘greatest fear’ too. Satan just straight up says nothing at all scares him and I think that shows his age and experience gap compared to Lucifer. Even the way Simeon smiled and said the confidence line felt like he was indulging Satan rather than believing him). Asmo jumps and says being ugly scares him. Beel says he thought about it but he really doesn’t know (with the saddest expression on his face) but he also says a pissed off Satan and Asmo are also pretty scary. Asmo yells at Beel for calling him scary (didn’t Asmo very seriously threaten to rip MC’s heart out in S1? I feel like a lot of people forget this… I’ve seen people say Asmo and Mammon were the only ones who didn’t attack or seriously threaten MC and I’m just like no??? Asmo was definitely ready to kill them and he gets even more pissed if MC says they don’t think he’s the most attractive person. MC doesn’t get the chance to talk back when Asmo threatens them either which makes it seem all the more serious. When Mammon first threatens to eat MC after they first meet he says it in that same over the top way he said he wasn’t scared in this lesson – completely unbelievable. And MC probably catches that too cause they get to talk back and tell him that they literally give no shits about whatever he’s talking about.) Belphie says he used to be afraid of the alarm clock satan gave him which wouldn’t snooze or stop, which he threw away (I feel like they’re greatly underestimating what ‘greatest fear’ means…) Solomon asks MC what scares them the most and the chapter ends. (I HC MC as having heavy abandonment issues, of waking up and finding out this was all a dream and that they’re alone but I doubt OM!’s gonna let them say that)

Asmo’s very excited to find out about MC’s worst fears but Levi says when MC came face to face with the bogeyman and chased it away it didn’t transform which means… Levi smiles and Mammon laughs and goes ‘holy shit you’re scared of Lucifer too!? Asmo points out that Mammon said ‘too’ implying… Mammon vehemently protests. Simeon says that that Luke’s blessing is still active despite it being given some time back and it makes the Bogeyman have no affect on MC. Asmo’s shocked and asks if that isn’t really impressive. Simeon says it is and that Luke’s blessings are so powerful that it even rivals some angels’ higher up in the hierarchy (do you think that’s why Michael has such an interest in Luke despite him having no ranking?) Simeon says Luke himself doesn’t realise how special his power is and MC’s amazed by what a bright future he’ll have. Simeon says he’s looking forward to it. Belphie says once that once Luke grows up he’d be able to banish Mammon with a snap of his fingers (and ansknvjbkdc BELPHIE!? Isn’t this also a self burn you fucking idiot???? Considering Mammon’s the 2nd most powerful and you’re the 7th?????? They really do genuinely forget Mammon’s ranking don’t they?) Mammon asks why Belphie had to pick him to shit on and Levi laughs and says Mammon will totally deserve being banished by an angel. Mammon goes to murder Levi but Lucifer cuts them off saying Barbatos just messaged him saying ‘don’t fucking stand there like fucking idiots kick out the bastard that you lot are responsible for unless you’d rather me come there and rip your fucking innards out you fucking assholes’ MC picks up on a very key fact and says “He’s fucking spying in us!???” Satan says he’s probably watching them at that very moment which creeps Asmo out. Solomon says they should go after it then which has Mammon yelping and Levi protesting. Lucifer says if they all go barging in everything will devolve into chaos and that just a couple should do. Levi laughs about MC being OP cause of Luke’s blessing (love the self awareness) Solomon tells MC to pick who’ll go in with them.

Asmo’s demanding why he got picked and Mammon, smiling happily, says Asmo should consider getting hand-picked by MC an honour, Asmo says they just happened to make eye contact and MC picked him and he can’t help it if MC’s eyes are naturally drawn towards his beauty. (I just realized considering Mammon’s the one MC usually picks for stupid, dangerous adventures so he probably thought he’d get picked and he’s so smiley rn cause he’s relieved). Satan tells Asmo to suck it up and Asmo says it’s easy for them to say since they aren’t been made to go in the room. All sparkly and teary eyed Asmo cries about how his beauty ended up being his undoing. Simeon wishes MC luck and says that should anything go wrong he’ll come in. MC tells Asmo they’ll protect him, Asmo throws himself into their arms and calls them the best. Lucifer tells them to keep their guard up, even with Luke’s blessing. The hotel room looks like someone has used a negative filter on it. Inside Asmo screams and says he can’t take it and that he knows what he’ll see and that an ugly version of himself will be so bad that he’ll have a heart attack and die adding on “I’ll DIE, MC!” at the end for emphasis (wait so bullets won’t kill them but heart attacks are a possibility? Or is this Asmo just being melodramatic?). With tears in his eyes he says he gives up. MC tells him nothing will change how beautiful he is, he agrees but still struggles to argue with it. The black mist then starts forming and Asmo squeaks. With a rumble it shakes the room and transforms. Asmo starts screaming and sobbing about how ugly he looks and how it hurts his eyes. To stop Asmo’s oncoming mental breakdown MC shows him a mirror and he starts cooing over how beautiful he really is but he still says he can’t take it and runs out the room (I like to imagine the bogeyman had to do the bare minimum to make Asmo see a hideous version of himself, like anything less than perfect flawlessness would freak Asmo out.) Back outside Lucifer sounds disappointed that these are some of the most powerful demons in the devildom, Satan calls the whole thing pathetic, and Levi laughs about how they should have known not to trust Asmo with this (..I mean you wouldn’t have done any better either), Mammon mocks Asmo for calling himself a demon, Beel says he’s hungry. Asmo tells them if they’re so much braver than him they should go in. Solomon tells MC to pick the next one. MC happens to make eye contact with Belphie. Without MC even saying a word Belphie realizes what has happened. About Asmo’s fear maybe I’m making it too deep but in S1 and in other places too Asmo talks about how beautiful he was in the Celestial Realm and I always wondered if part of his obsession with his beauty now is because it’s a way to cling on to that, the last thing that he can keep unchanged after his whole world was turned on his head. I think in the very early drafts of OM!, back when the brothers had canonical demonic demon forms as well the writers said Asmo hated his, so it’d make sense after how even his actual form changed he’d cling so desperately onto the human form he shared with his past angelic self.

Belphie asks if they really need him to come, Satan says it’s not like they can let MC go in alone, Belphie says they have Luke’s blessing so they may as well throw them into the sharks (I want to say I really like sharks and am always somewhat upset by the misconception of them as these ruthless killing machines when at most they’re just idiots with bad eyesight) Lucifer says that there’s always the possibility things won’t go as planned, Belphie says then Simeon will just step in (Belphie’s trying so hard guyssss. And like I imagine a majority of it is cause he’s lazy and doesn’t want to deal with this but I also feel like a small part of him knows that something worse than an annoying alarm clock could be waiting in there. I mean your greatest fear can be very personal and for emotionally constipated idiots like this who’ve lived millions of years and fought two wars? I imagine they’d be very private about it.) Simeon says that though that’s the plan it would but an end to MC’s exam. Cause he isn’t part of their additional materials the way the brothers are, says Solomon. Beel begs Belphie to do it for him and that he wants Belphie to keep MC safe. YO! Mammon brings up my point immediately. God I love him. Looking smug, he asks if the truth is that Belphie’s trying so hard to avoid something other than an alarm clock. Belphie looks shocked, then looks to the side and says “No…”. Mammon says then Belphie should be just fine, that it’s an alarm clock and it’s not a big deal (You know and I know that Mammon knows well that it’s not gonna be just an alarm clock, what a shithead picking up on Belphie’s weakness like that and manipulating him when nothing else worked. I love him so much). Belphie agrees to go. Inside the Bogeyman is already forming and a shrill alarm clock starts ringing, until it suddenly stops and everything goes black. Belphie makes a small noise and MC calls his name. He starts asking what’s going on and where MC went, sounding more and more distressed with each question. The wind keeps whistling through. MC says they’re right there. He can’t hear them. He’s now screaming for MC to answer him. Then he starts screaming for MC and Beel. Then for Asmo, Satan, Mammon and Levi. Then for Lucifer. When he gets no reply he says, “This can’t be happening…it can’t be…I…I…” He screams that he can’t take it and that he’s scared, asking where everyone went. MC moves towards his voice and hugs him. He screams for MC and Beel to help him. The chapter ends. This whole scene is haunting. From the bitch black screen, to the whistling wind being the only thing you can hear, to hearing Belphie who’s usually so unaffected start screaming for his family just? How it all started with the shrill screams of the alarm clock which just abruptly stopped. It came outta nowhere. I honestly didn’t think they’d do something like that and I’m shaking imagining what the others might see. I’m 100% sure that Belphie used all his energy to focus on the alarm clock so that the bogeyman wouldn’t pick up on this darker fear and that’s why the alarm clock went off at first. I initially thought Belphie’s real fear will be something directly related to the second war but this makes so much more sense, it makes sense that after losing Lilith his biggest fear would be losing the rest of his family and being alone and just wow I’m??? I love that they did this. It hurt to see but it was desperately needed.

Back outside Asmo and Belphie are both silent and depressed. Beel quietly calls Belphie’s name, saying all the colour has drained from his face and asking if he’s okay. Asmo whines about how Beel only cares about Belphie and hasn’t even checked up on him. Mammon says they both do look pretty awful and Satan says they look like Levi and Mammon did after seeing Lucifer’s pissed demon form. Levi says not to even bring it up. Beel asks what happened inside the room and Belphie says nothing. Beel orders (the key word here is ‘orders’ and it’s so different from his usual self that it was great to see what he becomes when the people he loves are hurt) that MC tell him what happened (and look on one hand it’s important to keep Belphie’s privacy and to not say anything without his consent, on the other hand he will NEVER tell anyone this, something he’s been bottling up for thousands of years, and he really should talk it over with them. Personally I think they should take him aside later and talk it over with him and then if he wants let him approach the others). MC can say “the truth is that…” or “…”. For the first he gets really pissed off and yells at MC to stop. He then takes a step back and apologizes and says he doesn’t want them telling the others anything. For the second Belphie quietly thanks them. He then says it wasn’t a big deal and something happened that he wasn’t expecting. He smiles and tells Beel not to look at him like that. Beel still can’t get over it and still looks furious, saying that he doesn’t know what happened but he knows it really messed Belphie up and he’s not letting it get away with that. He says he’s gonna destroy it and calls MC after him. Inside the room it’s dead quiet. Beel says again he’s not sure what he’s scared of but even if it turns into an angry Asmo or Satan they need to attack it without any hesitation. He says that whatever that thing did to Belphie it terrified him and that they need to make it pay. All of a sudden there’s a flash of light and long groans as the room shakes and the mist forms. Beel tells MC to attack it using his power before it can transform and MC commands him, Beel says his power is theirs to command and everything he does is for them and Belphie. Beel uses a spell to send a bolt of light towards it and for a second it seems to shrink into itself before it comes back stronger and holy shit holy shit holy shit GUYS!!!!! There’s a flash of light and they’re in front of the Celestial Palace except everything is on fire asdjkjdfjcusjosdsjdj FUCK. The bolt Beel had previously sent to the bogeyman instead pierces through the chest of angel!Belphie (FUCK!!?) Beel screams and then screams for Belphie. “Don’t take away my brother too! I can’t bare to lose anyone else…!” MC tries to tell him he hasn’t lost anyone but Beel protests saying he’s attack hit Belphie and now he’s… Beel’s unable to finish that sentence. He then looks at MC and starts pleading with them not to go, again saying that he’s begging them not to go anywhere. They tell him that they’re right here with him. He tells them he’s scared. The chapter ends. AND WTF!!!!????? They really went there huh? I’ve been screaming about the trauma Lilith’s death would have lead to since maybe Mammon & Luke’s train lesson but they really are bringing it up now huh!? I’m just holy shit.

They’re back in the hotel room with the mist swirling around them and at the screams Belphie comes running into the room and tries to span Beel outta it (and isn’t it sweet given how reluctant he was to go in and how shaken up he was after that he’d come tunning in for Beel). Levi comes in next with his eyes closed and stuttering but wanting to be there for Beel, then Asmo with tears in his eyes saying they’re not gonna abandon their “adorable little brother” despite how scared they are. Mammon comes in next, red faced and also with his eyes shut and asking Beel where he is, Lucifer comes in after telling Beel to focus and stay with them. (guys they’re all such good brothers I can’t deal). Beel seems genuinely touched that they all came for him. The Bogeyman flares and seems to grow again and Satan puts himself in between it and the others, angry that it had messed with his brothers and saying it was up against him now and he wasn’t scared of anything. The think groans and the room shakes and they’re in the coliseum like place in the Devildom (the place where Diavolo said he found Lucifer with Lilith after they fell) and everything around them is on fire again. Mammon asks if it’s turning into Lucifer again and Belphie says it looks like it is. It turns in to angel Lucifer (oh boy…I actually stood up and walked away. Satan…….dude….holy shit?). Satan gasps as the reveal and I genuinely think he didn’t know it was coming unlike Belphie. The name reads Lucifer (?) and I’m gonna just directly quote what he says. Also Angel Lucifer surrounded by fire and this pale purple aura with a kinda blank yet pissed off and judgmental expression while tense lowkey creepy music plays is actually kinda scary? I think it’s the fact that he’s supposed to be an angel but he looks genuinely scarier than when it transformed into demon Lucifer… Anyway: “…Satan, you fool. It’s time you learned your place. Because in the end, you’re nothing more than an inferior copy of me. You must already realize that.” Satan growls at him to shut up but he continues, “I know you, I know how you think. Because you were modeled after me. I was the original.” Satan says, “…Stop it.” It laughs and says while smiling, “It seems you don’t want to admit it, do you? You don’t want to but you have no choice. You hate it and you hate yourself. You’re consumed with self-loathing, aren’t you?” Satan screams at it to stop. Screaming that it’s not true and then screaming shut up over and over at an increasing volume. Lucifer, real Lucifer, tries calling Satan’s name, telling him to get ahold of himself. This shocks Satan out of it for a while. Lucifer goes up to him saying, “Satan, I need you to listen to me. You and I are not the same. You’re not me, and I’m not you.” He says his hobby is music while Satan prefers reading and that Satan loves cats but Lucifer would pick dogs. “You’re not a copy of me. No… You’re my brother.” He says he’s the brother to Lucifer, the avatar of pride and that he’s Satan the avatar of wrath. He asks if that isn’t his name. Satan is speechless after that. He turns to MC and asks them to tell him who he is. “You’re Lucifer’s younger brother, Satan.” This makes him laugh. He agrees with them. Saying he’s Satan. “No one else, just Satan.” He tells MC to use their pact. MC uses a spell to lend power to Satan and he uses that for a spell to banish the bogeyman. There’s a bright flash and everything turns white. (Holy shit Satan….the fact that it was angel Lucifer who was his worst fear and not normal Lucifer, that it was angel Lucifer’s judgment he feared? And I think I said this in two of the other summaries too but Satan’s the only brother Lucifer didn’t choose. Lucifer as an angel chose all his siblings and practically adopted them into his growing family. Satan was the only one who just came along and who Lucifer had no choice but to keep. Do you think that could be one of the reasons why it was angel Lucifer he specifically feared? Everyone else was with angel Lucifer in the celestial realm and fought by his side except Satan, Satan was never even an angel. He was always a demon who angels were taught to hate. Do you think it’s possible that he thinks that if angel Lucifer had the choice he wouldn’t have chosen Satan and brought him t the family? And that’s why the fairies thought he needed to meet angel Lucifer and hear him say he wished he had a brother like Satan. Also is it just me but does Satan have imposter syndrome vibes? Like the feeling that everything he achieves is cause he’s a shade of Lucifer and Lucifer’s just naturally perfect so he always has to work even harder to be better than Lucifer to prove he’s his own person.)

They’re back in the hotel room, except now all the colours are back to normal. Mammon asks what happened, Beel asks if it was destroyed and Belphie tells Satan his last spell was really impressive, Asmo tells Satan that he’s amazing and that he made his heart race, Lucifer says it was excellent and says well done. (lowkey disappointed we didn’t see Lucifer’s greatest fear but whatever). Satan dismisses all of it, saying it wasn’t a big deal and trying to move on and turn attention on how he’s gonna convert all the leftover emotion he has after having his vulnerabilities forcefully displayed in front of everyone into anger so he can murder Levi and Mammon. The two yelp and make a break for it. The other 3 also give chase, with even Beel saying he wants to take a bite outta them, while Mammon and Levi scream about how they’re gonna get eaten (…what would the other guests think…). Solomon follows the 6 of them happily to watch the carnage. Simeon asks if Lucifer wasn’t going to chase after them and he says he’d run himself ragged if he chased after them each time they fucked up. The two of them then congratulate MC and they say they couldn’t have done it without a.) Satan. Simeon says it was them who was able to draw such immense power from him and that their talent was impressive. B.) all of them, Lucifer laughs and says that some of them weren’t any help at all. Lucifer’s smile then slips and he tells them to wait a minute and sike that bitch is back! It has barely any strength left and is making one last attempt. Everything flashes white and it transforms into a bright light streaming from the window. The next two are direct quotes. Simeon: …! That light- Lucifer: Simeon, calm down. This one’s “mine”. Lucifer transforms into his demon form, saying something that transforms into your deepest fear is something he could live without. He says, “And here I’m thinking we would never meet again.” And I feel like he’s talking to the ‘light’ and not the bogeyman they thought they killed. He tells MC to use his power. They do and Lucifer uses the same spell as Satan and the bogeyman is finally killed. Simeon is silent and looks upset. Lucifer says they killed the last of it and they should be safe. He says it’s a good thing MC was there next to him or it might have ended very badly. Simeon’s still silent and Lucifer refuses to make eye contact with him. He says he’s going to check on his brothers and says he’ll see them later. Simeon’s silent and now looks thoughtful and MC can ask him a.) If something’s wrong. He apologizes and says he’s fine and then sighs and says “Oh, am I?” b.) they wonder if Lucifer’s okay. Simeon says he’ll be fine because Lucifer is strong and then quietly adds “…unlike me…” C.) they ask what that light was. “Not what.” Says Simeon, “who…”. Okay there’s so much to talk about I think my brain died. 1st – Simeon is stunned when the light first appears and Lucifer has to tell him to calm down that the light was his fear. Which meant Simeon thought the bogeyman was reacting to him and showing him his own fear and that means Simeon and Lucifer’s worst fear is the same thing and Lucifer knew this as well. Now you could say Simeon thought this light was the real deal and not the bogeyman and that’s why he reacted that way and that’s why Lucifer told him it’s just his fear BUT Lucifer said beforehand that the bogeyman had not been killed an they all see the mist forming and the room shaking and the thing groaning before the light is formed so it’d be hard to make that mistake. Plus simeon’s “unlike me” line seals it and pretty much confirms that Simeon and Lucifer share the same greatest fear. And I said earlier that I believed the bogeyman acted on the common fear of everyone it could affect but both Simeon and Lucifer were sure it was their own fear that was taking shape, plus the bogeyman only had enough strength for one last target, so yeah the ‘light’ is definitely both of their individual greatest fears. 2nd – who was it. MC’s being talking with a voice in the light every once in a while and I always assumed it was Michael cause he seems to have the same position in the celestial realm that Diavolo has in the Devildom. But why would Michael be Lucifer’s greatest fear? It’d make more sense for Lucifer’s greatest fear to be his Father but that’d mean MC’s being chatting with God this whole time and that’s absolutely fucking insane and I’m not even gonna consider that further. So Lucifer’s greatest fear is (probably) Michael but why? Because of what he represents? Because of what happened with Lilith and their Fall? Because he could threaten Diavolo’s plans for harmony? Because of some other unknown trauma? 3rd – What happened to Simeon? We know he was a seraphim who was demoted for some reason. We know he stole from Michael and was caught and Michael called him back to face some sort of consequences. We know after this he was stationed semi-permanently in the human world for some unknown reason. We know he’s meeting with angels (probably raphael) here in the human world. But what happened that made the angels or Michael his greatest fear? What did he mean by Lucifer being strong unlike him? Personally I think despite the Celestial Realm saying they cast the brothers out, the brothers actually fled after Lilith was struck. I think Lucifer asked Simeon to come with him and I think Simeon denied him and instead helped them escape and this lead to his demotion. We know from that one devilgram that after meeting Diavolo for the first time Lucifer realizes the Celestial Realm nor his Father particularly care for peace with the Devildom, while Diavolo’s actively seeking it and that demons and the devildom are not like what he believes they are. The more Lucifer meets with Diavolo the more he learns about the Devildom and the rest of the world, as Mammon said about Luke, he learns about the real world, how the angels aren’t always right and how there’s more to everything than the Celestial Realm and so the more disillusioned with the Celestial Realm he becomes. As Simeon was his closest friend he might have relayed this all to him, or at least given a vague idea of what he’s starting to see and Simeon in turn starts seeing things from Lucifer’s perspective or more accurately he starts seeing the whole picture (and this is what Barbatos means when he says Simeon is likeable because he’s different from the other angels) unlike Lucifer though this doesn’t make him angry at or resentful of the celestial realm – it just opens his eyes up to its faults but that doesn’t mean he loves all the good parts of it any less – So when Lucifer offers him the chance to leave (the way Simeon himself sees it) he’s never strong enough to take that leap. Or that’s at least my theory of what happened till the next lessons clear it up.

Simeon is still silent and looking upset and then he laughs and apologizes because he can’t seem to stop trembling (and okay first wtf? Also so the theory about Lucifer and Simeon sharing a greatest fear was right. But also what the fuck did Michael do that’s made Simeon tremble? Though the first time the brothers spoke of Michael Mammon said he still shook thinking about his punishments… But would Michael do anything like that to someone who used to be a fellow Seraphim? Was that light really Michael or was it the Big Guytm cause that’ll be terrifying I don’t want to deal with that…). MC asks him if he’s okay. He says he appreciates their concern ands says it’s just that the light was just a sight he hadn’t seen in a long time AND WAIT!? SO IT WASN’T MICHAEL!!??? IT ACTUALLY WAS GOD!!!??? I’M WHEEZING AND NOT IN THE LAUGHING WAY WTFFFF HOLY SHIT SERIOUSLY!!!??? AND WAIT SO MC’S TALKED TO A VOICE IN A LIGHT ABOUT THRICE NOW??? WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT!??? PLS TELL ME AT LEAST THAT WAS MICHAEL!? I’D LOSE MY SHIT IF IT TURNS OUT MC’S BEING COMMUNICATING WITH GOD HELP-  I’m okay. I’m good. I took a walk. Simeon’s still trembling and MC hugs him. Simeon blushes and says humans have a strange warmth to them. He says that sometimes he wonders if MC would make a better angel than him (which supports my ‘not strong enough’ theory in the previous paragraph). He holds them back tightly. He says there’s something he wants to tell them and says I- before Asmo screaming for MC to come watch them torture Levi & Mammon cuts him off (would he confess to them again? He did it before and it seemed done when they rejected him and he backed off. I guess emotions are more complex than that). He looks upset at the interruption but covers it with a smile and says it seems like they’re wanted. He asks them to drop by the café later and says they can continue the discussion then. The two of them are hung up upside down, Mammon’s screaming to be let down and Levi’s sobbing and screaming at Mammon not to throw a temper tantrum right next to him. Diavolo says they make an interesting chandelier but that they don’t fit with their interior design. Mammon screams at him to then fucking let them down. Barbatos suggests a muzzle. Satan suggest shutting them up with their fists and Belphie says it’s too much work and that they’ll juest wear themselves out. Beel says there’s a style of cooking in the human world like this. Lucifer says these two don’t look appetizing and that he’d rather have actual churrasco. Solomon welcomes MC back and gives them the star of humility. He says they are now officially a sorcerer. Diavolo and Barbatos both congratulate them. Asmo says they’re amazing and that he’s even more smitten with them. Belphie says he’s really impressed and says good for them. Beel says he’s really happy for them and says nice going. Satan says “MC the Sorcerer” has a nice ring to it. Lucifer says well done. MC thanks them all. Solomon says nothing makes him happier than seeing his apprentice become a full-fledged sorcerer. Mammon yells that he wants to be part of the celebration too and to let him down, Levi says he’s going to be sick. And the chapter and the entire lesson ends.

[beevean]

Do you mind ranking Metroid final bosses? I would like to hear your thoughts on them.

12) Mother Brain (ZM): fuck you so much. i hate you and everything you stand for.

11) Mother Brain (M1): fuck you too, slightly less so because at least she's constantly vulnerable to make up for the amount of shit she throws at you (a detail ZM missed)

10) Omega Metroid: meh? Literally a waste of precious time.

9) Mecha Ridley (<100%): its only strength is that its core is hard to hit, but it still goes down in 6 Super Missiles.

8) Queen Metroid (OM): the first phase can eat me (if you didn't hate the way you shoot missiles in this game before, boy will you hate it now), but after that it becomes much more fun... I just hope that you know that you can use Power Bombs at the very end, because the game sure won't tell you...

7) Phantoon: it's okay. Not too hard, not too easy, but if you don't know an obscure piece of lore about this boss it feels very out of nowhere and nostalgia pandering.

6) Mother Brain (SM): not really a fight, as you really have to suck to die here, but it compensates with being the climax of the Baby plot. Blasting her with the Hyper Beam is so good <3

5) SA-X: the first phase is so satisfying! You can finally go up against the creature that gave you so much grief throughout the game! Their Screw Attacks clashing looks so cool. But then the second phase has to ruin everything...

4) Metroid Prime: it's way too long, but if you want a challenge, this may be the hardest boss in the game. It forces you to use every weapon you have and it testes your reflexes. The second phase makes you use different visors to complete the set, and when you blast it with the Hyper Beam, boy does it feel cathartic

3) Aurora Unit 313: poor 313, forced to become Dark Samus' tool. I think Dark Samus would have been a good final boss just fine, but this Mother Brain 2.0 isn't bad at all. It's another marathon boss, with the first phase mainly focused on stunning her and the second one being hard to hit, but thankfully P3 has great controls. Also I'm biased because I love how you use the Grapple Beam in this game :P

2) Queen Metroid (AM2R): yes I count it :P a much more engaging fight than in M2, without being as assholish as the OM version - although I like how it references the latter in its last part. It's tricky, but not cheap (yeah that acid attack gave me trouble).

1) Dark Samus (P3): this bitch! After mentally tormenting you for the entire game, taking her down feels so good. The fight feels like an improved version of her fighting style in P2, which I already liked. I also like how, much like in P2, you're on a timer, although it's the time you have left until you get permanently corrupted (I love the whole Phaaze concept by the way). Also she's such a showoff, truly Samus' evil clone :P

(never finished M2, P2 or SR, nor have I played Dread or Prime Hunters, so I skipped them. I'd probably put Proteus Ridley and Raven Beak very high up, though, maybe 2nd and 1st place respectively)

[secretshinigami]

Phototaxis

Author: @kiranatrix For: @baranedizille Pairings/Characters: Light Yagami, L Lawliet, Ryuk, Sayu Yagami, Sachiko Yagami, Socihiro Yagami // Lawlight if you squint, or not Rating/Warnings: Gen // no warnings Prompt: To-Oh timeline. L visits the Yagamis to work on a project with Light, L has a dinner with Light’s family and it’s awkward. And ofc, Ryuk is also there commenting the situation. Author’s notes: I hope you enjoy the story! This occurs on the evening of April 11 while Light and L are both at To-Oh. Soichiro has been resting at home following his heart attack on April 7 (the day of Light and L’s tennis match). The Japanese legend mentioned in the fic (The Fire Quest) is a real one. Sayu gets it mostly correct, but the traditional version in English is here: https://www.worldoftales.com/Asian_folktales/Japanese_folktale_49.html.

—–

Hideki Ryuga– L –was coming over tonight and Light hardly knew how to handle it. L, with his too-long fingers and his too-intense stare, his perfectly enunciated Japanese and teeth unrealistically white for an all-sugar diet, was coming to Light’s house for dinner and, purportedly, to study. 

It was a lie, but that was their preferred currency when shifting closer. Stepping together to a stage, a classroom, a tennis court, a cafe– each time the way was paved with lies, petals they threw at the other’s feet and pretended not to notice. It made getting to the destination sweeter when the end was had only ever been death for one or the other. And still, they couldn’t stop. Light was so glad L hadn’t stopped.

  L would be arriving any moment but Light couldn’t help but take out his Death Note from its hiding place, just to touch the pebbly leather of his ace in this game. The Death Note was no proper diary but the handwriting in it betrayed plenty about the emotional state and thoughts of its owner these past months. There was the first casually-scrawled name, jotted off like the joke Light believed it to be. Kurou Otoharada. A long, jagged pen mark bled across the rest of the page, a horizon of surprise when that first death dawned. The next name had been carefully written several times with the spelling slightly shifted, the last instances hurried and impatient. There was an exclamation point by the third experiment, exactly 40 seconds from when he’d inked the right combination. Takuo Shibuimaru. It had probably been added in shock, but Light chose to remember a different reason. I got it right, I won. 

  The names filling the following pages were unremarkable except that they looked exactly like the handwriting on Light’s homework. Studious, easy, and correct without the requirement of much thought. This was a different kind of work, performed as professionally as an accountant. A roster of the worst murderers of the world, the lowest hanging fruit, and Light plucked them nightly when he wasn’t sure how many more nights he’d have. Surely there had to be some price for what he was doing? Aren’t you going to take my soul? Ryuk laughed at him, was impressed by him, and that was a good sign for a shinigami; he would take something but not for a while. 

  It wasn’t until about ten pages in that things got telling again. A name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page– Lind L. Tailor. Light’s adrenaline and fury and glee stained the paper as much as the ink had, from a pen that he didn’t use often and had grabbed as quickly as possible during L’s broadcast. Everything about this name was different, just as L was different from all those who had come before. This name was the hook that pulled Kira out of the shadows and thrust L into the light, a breadcrumb for both of them to devour and hunger for more. 

  This elaborate name was immediately replaced in Light’s mind by a single stark gothic letter, so much so that even when he looked back on that day, he didn’t recall a suited nobody slumped over a desk and dragged away on-camera. He only recalled ‘come find me, come find me, kill me if you can.’ Light was so accustomed to everything and everyone being boring and easy, to nothing getting to him. L’s challenge had wormed into his mind and he felt alive for the first time in his life. 

  Perhaps the smart thing to do would have been to go silent a while, wait it out until the heat died down and he could find out more about L and his methods. Light had tipped his hand a little but not enough to give the game away, only to set it in motion. Yes, he probably should have played it safe. But he couldn’t stop and he couldn’t help but taunt L further, just to keep chasing that new and intensifying feeling of being alive. The danger was part of their dance, and Light wanted to play with L for as long as possible before Kira killed him. 

  Lind L. Tailor. The ‘L’ had been darkly underlined, reminding Light of the dark half-moons shadowing the eyes of the real man when Light finally met him. The slant of Light’s scrawl, like the hunch of L’s back. The letter ugly and infuriating and fascinating and shouting at him from the page, drawing his finger to trace over it…

  Light pulled his finger back like he’d been burned when he heard his mother calling up to him, heartbeat thudding as he bit his lip and grinned. He quickly snapped his Death Note shut and carefully placed it back in his rigged desk drawer. He’s here. 

“Light! Sayu!” Sachiko leaned to call up the stairs from where she was washing her hands in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on their meal. “Would one of you get the door, please?” 

  She gave Soichiro a stern look as he shifted on the couch. “Not you, Soichi. If you insist on going back to work tomorrow I want you resting tonight.” Her husband had only come home from the hospital a few days ago after his stress-related heart attack and she was anxious about letting him go right back.

  “Coming!” Light bustled out of his bedroom as the doorbell chimed again, nearly barreling into Sayu. “Whoa!” He gripped her shoulders to steady himself, smiling and flustered. “Don’t worry about it, Sayu. I’ll get it.”

  “Oooo, who’s coming over tonight?” Sayu grinned up at her brother, noticing a rare faint blush on his cheeks. “You look so nervous! Is it a girlfriend?”

  Ryuk floated through Light’s bedroom wall, chuckling at the insinuation. “Pfft, not exactly.” It hadn’t escaped Ryuk’s notice that Light had taken even more care than usual with his appearance tonight and that he’d been mulling over the Death Note in a rather odd way. “Ya do look a little flushed, though. Hyuk hyuk…”

  “No.” Light rolled his eyes as he made his way downstairs, ignoring both his sister and the shinigami. Do I really look nervous? He smoothed his features and said, “It’s just Hideki Ryuga from Ecology class. We have a project to work on tonight.” His father was the only other person who knew who Ryuga really was. L, the infuriating detective spying on him at To-Oh. Ryuk knew even more than that; namely, that Light was the very person L was looking for, but a shinigami was the best secret-keeper.

  “HIDEKI RYUGA?! Light! THE Hideki Ryuga?!” Sayu bounded down the stairs excitedly after Light, squealing with delight and clutching her hands over her heart. “I want to meet him, too! I’m his biggest fan! I know a lot about ecology and maybe I can help you–”

  “Shhh! Sayu, please.” Light shot Sayu a good-natured warning look as he opened the door then forced himself to smile cordially at L. “Hi, Ryuga.” He heard a soft noise of disappointment from Sayu as well as peals of shinigami laughter. It would have been Light’s reaction if the movie star had actually been there instead of his rival.

  “Hello, Light-kun. Good to see you again.” L was wearing his usual attire, a white long-sleeved shirt and baggy jeans, and he had a backpack slung over one hunched shoulder. He’d made a half-hearted attempt to brush his hair tonight, but the effort had been rewarded with a fluffy black halo that was even more wild-looking than his usual spikey bed-head. 

  “I see you managed to find the house.” There was a faint note of sarcasm in Light’s voice. As if L hadn’t gathered all the information he could about Light, illegally, invasively, or otherwise.

  A small, wry smile tugged at L’s lips and he answered, deadpan, “Yes, seeing that I am here, I apparently managed just fine. Are you impressed?” 

  “Incredibly. Please come in.” Smartass. Light held the door open for L to enter and gestured to Sayu just behind him. “This is my sister, Sayu.”

  Sayu had been peeking around Light, eyes wide with curiosity about the odd-looking person who was most definitely not the idol she’d been hoping for. She’d met lots of Light’s friends over the years but no one quite like this. “Wow…I’ve never seen anyone’s hair do that before. Where are you from? Are you older than Light? How does-” 

  “Sayu!” Sachiko rubbed her hands on her apron and sighed in fond exasperation. “Hideki-san, please forgive my child’s rudeness. She’s just excited to meet Light’s best friend at school.”

  Best friend? L’s eyes cut to Light, who immediately looked away. It amused L to hear their lies mirrored by other people. 

  Sachiko bowed politely and gave him a warm smile. “You are very welcome in our home. I’ll be serving dinner in a few moments.” She arched a brow at Sayu, “Please go set the table, Sayu.”

  L gladly toed out of his worn sneakers, padding along barefoot behind Light through the foyer and into the living room. “Your home is very cozy, Light-kun.”

  Ryuk snorted, “Like he hasn’t already seen every inch of it on camera.”

  Exactly. Light clenched his hand in his pocket but didn’t let his expression falter. “Dad, Hideki Ryuga is here for dinner. We have a project to work on tonight.”

  Soichiro looked up from the newspaper he’d been reading on the couch and gave L a polite nod. “Forgive me for not getting up, Hideki-san, I’ve been confined to the couch until dinner on my wife’s orders.” It was slightly uncomfortable to have L here in his home given that he knew his son was under some suspicion. Soichiro dismissed those suspicions out of hand, but he dreaded that L might turn his searchlights on Light during family dinner.

  “Please call me Ryuga.” L gave Light a crooked grin. “That’s what my friends call me.”

  Sayu skipped into the living room with a fist full of chopsticks. “Mom says you can go ahead and sit down. It’s yakisoba tonight!” She grabbed the guest’s arm and dragged him over to the table. “You can sit beside Light, Ryuga.”

  L blushed faintly but let himself be pulled along. “Ah…alright.” It was strange to realize that he’d never had a ‘real’ family dinner inside someone’s home before. Of course, he’d never had a family or friends, so perhaps not so surprising. He dropped his backpack to the floor and climbed into the seat beside Light, crouching as he usually did. 

  Light and Soichiro didn’t bat an eye at that but Sayu couldn’t help but gape at him. “Isn’t that an uncomfortable way to sit? My legs would fall asleep!”

  “Sayu.” Soichiro sat down at the place opposite Light. “Ryuga is our guest, and he’s welcome to sit how he pleases.” He knew from experience that whether L, Ryuzaki, or Ryuga, the peculiar man would do things his own way.

  Sachiko came in a moment later with the dishes for dinner, including yakisoba, miso soup, rice, and pickles. “Please help yourselves. We’re not very formal around here, Ryuga.”

  Ryuk floated behind Light, one clawed hand curled around the back of the human’s chair. “Dunno why you humans go to so much trouble when ya could just have apples.”

  “Hmm.” L peered at the various options, one finger perched on his lip. “I’ve never had yakisoba before. I admit I don’t eat many noodle dishes.” He’d brought some candy bars and a slice of cake in his backpack in case he didn’t like the food. Wammy had told him to at least wait until he was up in Light’s room studying to eat it, though. Apparently it was rude not to at least try the meal (although he still wasn’t sure if he cared).

  “I bet you’d like it.” Light served L some noodles and then put some on his own plate. He whispered to L, “Don’t be difficult. It’s sweet.” He wasn’t about to tell L that he’d suggested yakisoba to his mother tonight for that very reason, or that there were vegetables hiding in it. Why in the hell do I care about pleasing him?  

  “Hmm.” L tentatively picked up his chopsticks and poked at the noodles, looking between them and Light. “Is it spicy?” It was also becoming clear that he’d never used chopsticks before and they kept slipping from his hand. Why hadn’t he asked Wammy to show him how to use them?

  “No, it’s not–here, you’re not holding them right.” Light set his own chopsticks down and took L’s hand, gently molding the fingers into the right position to hold the utensils. He’d done the same thing for Sayu when she was small and learning, so the offer felt automatic. It wasn’t until he looked up and saw L staring at him that he felt self-conscious and pulled away. The gesture had felt too genuine and that made it suspicious. “Well, that’s how to do it. I know you’re a quick learner and will pick it up.”

  L looked down and murmured, “Was that a pun, Light-kun?” He concentrated and managed to pinch a bite of yakisoba, quickly shoveling it into his mouth before it fell off. “…mmm!” He didn’t bother to completely swallow the mouthful before saying, “It is sweet. And quite good.” He picked up another bite with slightly more dexterity. “I like it.” Perhaps the cake in his bag could just be for dessert. 

  Light smiled across the table. “It really is good, Mom, thank you.”

  “Oh, you’re always welcome.” Sachiko beamed happily as L quickly devoured his noodles and took another helping. 

  Soichiro relaxed a little, seeing as things were going more smoothly than he’d expected. “So, boys, what is your project about?”

  “It’s for Ecology. We have to collect an insect and bring it to class tomorrow since the lecture is on local entomology.” Light took a sip of tea to hide his amused smile; L was handling the chopsticks perfectly now. Of course he’d be good at that, too.

  “Eww.” Ryuk scrunched up his nose, he didn’t much like bugs and creepy-crawly things. “Hope it won’t be flappin’ in a box all night cause that would creep me out.”

  “Not just on local entomology, Light-kun.” L chewed a few times, loudly, and swallowed his mouthful. “It’s also on insect phototaxis.”

  Sayu, tilted her head and asked, “What’s that?”

  L suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken up at all. “Well….” He looked down at his meal, stabbing at the noodles. “…an attraction to light. Some insects, like moths, use the moon to navigate and become confused by artificial light. That’s why they flap around outdoor lightbulbs at night.”

  “Oh! Like the Fire Quest!” Sayu nodded sagely. “I know all about that.” When Ryuga just looked at her blankly, she added, “You haven’t heard that story? It’s a famous Japanese legend!”

  Soichiro sighed, “I’m sure Ryuga doesn’t–”

  “I have not heard it.” L set his chopsticks down and leaned forward in his crouch, hands on his knees as he stared at Sayu. “Please tell me the legend.”

  “Sure! See, Light, I told you I could help with your project.” 

  Light grinned and laughed softly. “Just tell the story, Sayu.” Japanese folktales weren’t going to help them but he was happy to indulge his little sister.

  “I’m getting to it!” Sayu sat up straight in her chair, trying to look and sound more official. “There was a queen of the fireflies who lived in a lotus blossom in the middle of a peaceful pond. She was so beautiful that all the moths, dragonflies, and other bugs who lived around the pond were constantly bothering her, begging to marry her. But she didn’t want any of them so it was very annoying.”

  L nodded seriously. “Yes, I can see why that would present a problem. Did she tell them all to go away?”

  “Oh, she tried! But they wouldn’t listen and there got to be so many bugs on her lotus blossom she was afraid it was going to sink. Completely messing up the whole peaceful pond aesthetic.”

  Light snickered and dropped his chin into his hand, smiling at Sayu. “I don’t remember that little detail from the story.”

  “Shhh!” Sayu stuck out her tongue at Light and continued. “Anyway, she thought up a way to get rid of them all. She told them that since she was a firefly, she could only marry the bug that brought fire back to her. Whatever bug did that was worthy to be with her forever.”

  L gave her a lop-sided smile. “I can’t imagine that turned out well for the insect suitors.”

  “Nope! But they couldn’t help themselves. They fluttered and flew around candles, torches, bonfires, all trying to catch the fire that the queen had told them to find but every one of them burned up instead. Nobody completed the Fire Quest and the firefly queen and her pond were left in peace.” Sayu smiled proudly. “The end.” 

  Ryuk had been hanging on Sayu’s every word, half-sitting on the table. “Hahaha! What a great queen!” He hadn’t been aware that fireflies were so sneaky but there was still a lot about the human world he didn’t know. “Now I wanna see a firefly!”

  Light hummed thoughtfully, recalling the legend from his own childhood. Sayu had embellished a bit but it was mostly accurate. “Serves the suitors right, I suppose. They should have listened when the queen told them to go away.”

  “The queen sent them on a quest she knew would result in their deaths.” L turned to look at Light, a small smirk on his lips. “Their annoyance hardly necessitates murder, Light-kun.”

  “Murder?” Light laughed in a charming way but there was shrewd interest in his eyes. “She didn’t tell them to burn themselves up. They should have known better.” They couldn’t help themselves. Just like we can’t. “Anyway, it’s just a silly legend.”

  Soichiro quickly changed the subject.

—-

After dinner, Light showed L up to his bedroom where they could catch an insect from his balcony. His mother had given them a large glass jar and he set it down on his desk, thrilling at having L so close to his secrets. “There’s a bright light on the balcony but it might take a few moments to attract anything.” He switched on the light, dimming the desk lamp so they could see outside better. He leaned against the glass door, watching L mentally cataloging the contents of his room. “I was surprised when you asked me to help you with this project, Ryuga. It’s not very difficult to catch your own bug.” I know you just wanted to see my room for yourself.

  “I have never done it before.” L crouched in Light’s desk chair, opening up his backpack and taking out the slice of cake he’d stowed inside. Tonight had been full of firsts for him– chopsticks, yakisoba, legends, bugs. “I didn’t want to kill it since we’re supposed to bring it in alive.” He forked a piece of the strawberry cake, staring at Light while he ate it. Mouth full, he grinned and said, “Think we’ll catch a firefly?”

  Light laughed softly and shook his head. “Not really the right time of year for them. They come out in the summer.” He gazed out the glass door, noticing a few flies and mosquitos starting to circle around the caged bulb. “Sometimes we see them in our backyard. Sayu and I would catch them when we were kids.” 

  “Pity. After hearing your sister’s story, I wanted to see one.” L ate the last bite of cake, placing the empty plastic box in Light’s trashcan (after glancing to see what else was in there). 

  Light asked over his shoulder quietly, “Don’t they have fireflies in England?” 

  L smiled slyly, getting up to stand beside Light at the glass door. He recognized the bait and only gave the line a tug. “They do, but doesn’t mean I was there to see them.” In truth, he’d been too wrapped up in his cases to venture outside much as a child. Such single-minded focus had benefitted him in some ways and set him apart from a normal childhood in others. “Perhaps Light-kun will invite me back in the summertime.”

  “Of course, Ryuga.” Light smiled at him, catching his reflection in the glass. How long would their game go on? Into the summer, the fall? What season would see it end?

  “Look.” L tapped the glass just over Light’s reflection, but what he was pointing to was on the other side. A large green-winged luna moth had landed on the cage surrounding the light bulb and was lazily flapping its wings and warming itself. “The first suitor has arrived.”

  “Still haven’t learned the ‘murderous’ queen’s lesson.” Light laughed and grabbed the jar off his desk. “Lucky for them we have electric lights and not fire.” He unscrewed the top and handed the jar to L. “Cmon, you do it.”

  L looked down at the jar as if it were Kira’s power instead just an old pickle jar. “The jar is too small.” He shifted to the other foot. “I’ll crush it.”

  “No, I think it’s plenty big. We can put it in a shoebox after we catch it, anyway.” Light smirked at him. “You’re just making excuses. Or maybe you really can’t do it?” He knew L wouldn’t turn down a direct challenge.

  “Alright.” L sighed and took the jar, frowning as he plotted his approach. Sliding the door open carefully so not to startle it, he crept forward very slowly until he was right beside it. Turning back to Light, he whispered, “Now what?”

  “Just scoop it up in the jar. Try not to touch its wings, though.” Light watched as L brought the jar up to the luna moth, delicately prodding to encourage it to go into the jar by itself. Amazingly, it worked, and the moth calmly settled into the bottom of the jar.

  “Light-kun!” L hurried back inside Light’s room, smiling broadly down at his captive. It looked like a miniature angel with its gracefully tapered wings and fluffy golden antennae. “It was easy after all.”

  “Everything’s easy for you, isn’t it?” I know the feeling. Light screwed the top onto the jar, poking generous air holes in the lid with a pair of scissors. He held it up for both of them to see, L leaning in closely, chewing his thumb at the undamaged and placid moth. “It’s a nice catch, too. I bet no one else will bring in anything this big.”

  L didn’t answer him for a long moment, just stared at the moth and the slow up-down, up-down of its wings. “What do you think would have happened if one of the suitors brought fire back?”

  Light blinked. “Huh?”

  “In Sayu’s legend. What might have happened if one of the suitors completed the Fire Quest and brought back fire to the queen?” 

  “I…I don’t know. I guess she would have burned up too if one managed to make it back to her. Would have been suicide.” Light gave L a puzzled look. “That’s impossible though. It never would have made it.” 

  “It might have.” L took the jar, setting it on Light’s desk and turning his full attention to his human specimen again. His hand fluttered from his mouth in a parody of a moth or a name written diagonally, frantically, and taking up nearly an entire page. “If he was a firefly, too.” 

  Light’s gaze followed L’s hand, those too-thin fingers that had gently ushered the moth to its prison. “So he would trick the queen and allow all the other suitors to get burned up instead of warning them?” He laughed a rare, genuine laugh. “Wouldn’t that make him as bad of a terrible, unfeeling ‘murderer’ as the queen?”

  “It’s just a silly legend, Light-kun.” L stuck his hands in his pockets, giving Light a cryptic smile. “But he’d win, wouldn’t he?”

[snowdice]

Little Kestrel (Part 12)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Logan needed to spend some time performing royal duties today which left Patton and Virgil alone after breakfast. Patton had started out trying to teach Virgil different board games. He’d seemed intrigued at first, but after a few games of checkers seemed to grow bored. Patton had gotten a blank stare when he’d asked if Virgil had any ideas about what to do for fun, so now he was trying to figure out something else they could do. He cast his eyes around at what Logan had in his bedroom.

“How about I read you a book?” he suggested.

Virgil seemed very intrigued by that idea. “Sure,” he said.

“Okay!” Patton said cheerfully. “He popped to his feet and glanced through the small shelf of fiction books Logan kept in his room. He decided to choose one of the lighter ones that Logan and he had liked to read when they were younger. “This one is called The Never-Ending Garden,” Patton said. “It’s about a group of four children and their adventures in a garden. It’s full of magic and adventure and friendship! Is that alright with you?”

“It sounds good,” Virgil answered.

Patton happily walked back over to sit next to him. “It is!” he said.

First, he showed Virgil the picture on the cover of a wild looking garden with four kids roaming through it. One of the children was in a little red wagon being pulled by another one wearing a fancy hat. One of the others was walking, looking at a map while the last had a wooden sword. After giving Virgil a couple of moments too look at the picture, Patton cracked it open.

“We start with Lydia’s perspective,” Patton said. “She’s one of my favorites!” He pointed to a picture of a girl in a raincoat at the beginning of the chapter and Virgil leaned slightly closer to see. Then, Patton cleared his throat.

“It had been raining that day,” Patton began, “but Lydia had been so very bored that she still begged her father to go out and play when the storm lightened into a sprinkle. He made her change out of the yellow dress she had been wearing into the one she often used to help him garden, as he knew she was certain to get herself muddy. Her younger brother Marcus asked if he could come too, and though part of her wanted to say no because she wanted to explore on her own without her baby brother slowing her down, her father had taught her to be a good big sister, so she agreed to let him come.”

Patton watched Virgil out of the corner of his eye as he read about Lydia meeting up with the neighbor boy, Al, and the three children starting to explore the garden in Lydia’s backyard. Virgil leaned in slightly to look at the pictures and listen to the story intently as the three children traveled deeper and deeper into the garden, but never made it to the back fence. They’d just made it to the part where they heard rustling behind the blackberry bush (which Patton knew was the last main character, Melly,) when Patton felt the need to adjust his posture a bit. Virgil moved in kind and ended up leaning further into Patton.

Without even really thinking about it, Patton brought his arm around to touch the top of his head. Virgil flinched the second Patton made content and Patton drew the hand away immediately. “Sorry,” he said with a wince. Patton was a naturally touching person and he’d been having trouble battling his instincts to cuddle everyone and everything while around Virgil, but he knew most touch was not welcome. The poor thing startled every time Patton went to touch him unannounced and even sometimes when he’d said something before doing it.

“I-it’s okay,” Virgil said. Patton gave him a tight lipped smiled and turned back to the book.

He stilled a second later when Virgil leaned back in and their shoulders brushed. He blinked over at him. “Oh,” he said softly. “Do… do you want me to touch your hair?”

Virgil curled up into himself a little bit but then nodded.

“Okay,” Patton said. “I’m going to put my arm around you and do that then, alright?” He drew upon his years and years of convincing easily startled cats to allow him to give them pats as he slowly moved his arm back to where it had been before and gently touched the side of his head. Virgil tensed, but didn’t startle this time, and so Patton gently ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times. Eventually, the tension bled out of him and he sort of slumped against Patton’s shoulder. Patton just barely stopped the coo bubbling at his lips before going back to reading. He continued to stroke the side of Virgil’s hair as he described the gang meeting up with Melly and them being told she was a fairy that lived in the garden.

He'd only gotten to the part about them finding the wagon when Virgil started to shift a bit uncomfortably, his neck craned at an awkward angle. Patton kept reading as he brought the hand in his hair down to his shoulder and pushed lightly. There was the slightest bit of resistance as Virgil didn’t know what he was trying to do, but then he allowed Patton to move him. Patton leaned back a bit and picked the book up off his lap before continuing to push him down. Virgil did not help at all, seeming confused about what was going on, but still going willingly enough.

Patton had to poke him around until he was on his back laying across Patton’s lap. He grinned down at the boy who was looking at him in blatant bewilderment and propped the book up on his chest. He held it there with one of his hands and stretched the other out to resume messing with his hair. Virgil relaxed into the new position after a few minutes of reading, eyes shutting as he enjoyed the attention. His eyes would flicker open every time Patton moved to show him a picture, but other than that, he seemed content to not move.

Eventually, he stopped responding when Patton moved to show him the pictures.

“Are you asleep?” he asked quietly. When he didn’t get a response, he bookmarked the page with last picture Virgil had responded to, and then continued reading to himself.

Eventually, there was a knock at the door. It was the one he and Logan had decided on to tell the other one that it was just them and not to panic when the door opened. The door opened to Logan a moment later.

He paused, taking in the sight of the assassin sprawled across Patton’s lap like a sleepy kitten. He shook his head fondly and walked over to them on silent feet. He bent and pressed a hand to the top of Virgil’s hand. Virgil stirred just barely, but didn’t open his eyes, pressing into the touch a bit.

Logan smiled. “He wanted to learn how to make protection charms today. I assume you’d like to join us?” Patton perked up and nodded happily, making Logan chuckle softly. “I will go set it up then. Would you like another book for the time being?”

“Just the one I was reading last night would be nice,” Patton said.

“Of course.” Logan stepped away to grab it and handed it to him. Then, he disappeared into his potion’s lab. Patton smiled down at Virgil’s sleeping face and settled the new book onto his chest to replace the children’s book. Virgil didn’t even stir.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

[toothpastecanyon]

Dreams That Walk, Nightmares That Talk, Chapter 7

Ben's been visiting the Mindscape every day since he was born. Once he brought something back, and twenty years later, Marie García is still picking out the pieces.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

                Another time. Marie would admit she’s never been able to choose a good moment; she’s not really sure what that even means. She’s gonna have to say it at some point, so

                “Hi Marie!”

                                why not

                “Sorry I’m late, had a… rough summons. Ready for chess?”

                                                right now?

                “I need you to go into my mind and fix whatever’s wrong with it.” Marie gets out the chessboard, hesitates, and looks up at him. “What?”

                “Wh-what?” He’s staring at her like she’s grown a second head. “What do you mean?”

                “Like you offered before. You can still do that, right?”

                “Go into your head?” Alcor rubs his eye. “I mean, yeah, but… sorry, this is just kind of sudden. I thought you didn’t want me to-”

                “I didn’t forget, I know what I said.” She snaps, and then makes a face at his flinch. “Sorry. That came out harsh, sorry.”

                Quietly, Alcor takes a seat next to her. She can feel him watching her set up the pieces, can sense him waiting for her to go on. It takes a second, and then:

                “Look, I… I don’t like… I don’t like admitting when I need help.” She lines up the castles. “But I think I do, and I think you’re the only one who can. Help me, that is. God knows I’ve tried getting it from anywhere else, but half the time it doesn’t work and half the time I can’t be honest without getting Ben hauled off by demonologists.”

                “Sorry,” Alcor says, and she gives him a strange look.

                “What do you mean-? Oh. Oh, I wasn’t talking about you, I was talking about…” Marie stops herself. She sighs. “Well… that’s why I didn’t want anyone rooting around in my head. Obviously I didn’t want you at first because I didn’t trust you, but... I don’t want anyone in my mind. I don’t want anyone rooting around in my secrets. I still don’t.”

                “That’s understandable.”

                “But this isn’t sustainable. Not for Ben.” She picks up the king, runs her thumb down the grain. “I’ve been going in circles my whole life, I’m used to it, but after… after Ben ended up in the hospital, I promised him I’d get help, I’d get better, I’d stop pinning everything on him, or…” She hesitates, grips him tight. “He’s the only thing that matters to me. I can’t lose him. So I have to do this.”

                “Are you sure?” Alcor leans forward. “It, uh, really doesn’t sound like you want to do this. You don’t have to do this for Ben.”

                “Well, if Ben ends up cutting me off, there’s not much point carrying on. So I guess that means I’m doing it for me too, right?”

                Marie chuckles at that, but the look on his face tells her that didn’t come off as a joke. She clears her throat.

                “No, that’s not - I was just exaggerating. Don’t worry about it.”

                “Marie-”

                “Look, I’m not saying I don’t want to do this. Believe you me, I’d love to fix whatever’s wrong with me too. It’s just that, well, I have a lot of things I’d rather keep to myself. I mean, I like you, but there’s things I’ve never told Ben.” She places the king, then the queen. “Or Santino.”

                “Santino?”

                Marie looks up sharply at that, and then lets out a dark chuckle. “Yeah,” she says, and shakes her head. “You don’t know anything about me. Maybe that’s why you seem to like hanging out with me, right?” She keeps chuckling. “And then I let you in, and you’ll know better, right.”

                She trails off, and for a moment it’s all too quiet. Then there’s a sound: Alcor places a pawn. Nothing’s changed, but Marie feels something shift, like the air got a few degrees colder, the silence got a little bit more unsettling. Alcor places a pawn, and the sound is jarring.

                “There’s a lot you don’t know about me either.” He looks up at her with the same eyes she’s gotten used to, speaks in the same, casual tone she’s heard before, but underneath that is something… else. Something that sends a shiver down her spine. Alcor places a pawn, and she notices there’s dried blood under his claws. “Whatever you’ve done, Dr García, trust me when I say that I can’t judge.”

                Marie can only nod to that. It seemed when she first met Alcor, it’d be impossible to forget what he is, but the more she gets to know him, the more… unsettling it is, to be reminded.

                “Right,” She says, and clears her throat. “Well. It’s good to know that. So… will you do it?”

                “Of course I will.”

                “What would you like in return?”

                “What I’d like?” He looks at her… and then cracks a smile. “Do you want to play this game first?”

                “That’s it?”

                “I mean, I just came from some demonic weirdness; I’d rather take a second before diving into the next one. If you really want to do it right now, though-”

                “No, no, that’s okay. We can take a break.” She rose to her feet. “Do you want some tea? I was going to put the kettle on.”

                “Oh, yeah, thank you! And-”

                “Extra sugar?” She snorts as he nods. “Yeah, figured. I’ll get that going.”

                “Thanks!”

                “Thank you, Alcor.” Marie gives him a smile. “Thank you.

                They didn’t play one game; they played several, and then ended up on the couch together watching one of Alcor’s strange pre-transcendence movies. Marie isn’t really a TV person, but she did notice how he hadn’t been joking around so much today. It seemed like he really did need the break.

                (And of course she asked him on a bad day. She really couldn’t pick a moment, see?)

                Even though she isn’t focused too much on the movie, she does feel pleasantly warm and sleepy; her eyes are drooping, and she sinks into the couch and lets them. The dialogue dissolves into a distant murmur, the action into a gentle glow against her eyelids. She might even have started leaning against Alcor because she feels something like fabric against her cheek, but she can’t bring herself to mind. She drifts off, drifts away…

                “Do you want to do this now?”

                It’s a gentle voice, almost like it’s afraid to wake her. She opens her eyes, and suddenly she’s a little surprised about how awake she feels. She sees Alcor standing in front of her, blocking the television.

                “Oh, I’m ready if you are.” She frowns. “Don’t you want to finish your movie, though?”

                “Eh, you already fell asleep.”

                Marie blinks at that, and then looks around. Suddenly it strikes her how grey everything is, and when she looks down she feels a jolt at the sight of herself still resting on the couch.

                “Wha-”

                “Don’t panic!” Alcor holds his hands out. “You’ll wake yourself up. Everything’s okay.”

                “Is this my mind?”

                “No, no, I wouldn’t do that without your permission. This is just the Mindscape.” He gave an awkward smile. “I promise there’s a difference.”

                “I… see.” Marie looked down, and saw herself floating a little ways off the ground. Her leg was clipping through the couch. “Interesting.”

                “Yeah, it takes some getting used to.” He reaches out a hand. “Are you ready?”

                Marie nods. “I am,” she says, and takes it. “Let’s go.”

                She watches him close his eyes, and put a hand on her head. Nothing happens for a moment, then there’s the distinct, unsettling feeling of his hand sinking into her forehead-

                But only for a heartbeat. Marie blinks, and now Alcor’s standing beside her, and she’s somewhere else.

                Somewhere… dead.

                Ash rain is all Marie can make out at first. A thick cloud of grey surrounds her, settles on her, kills any sound but for the beating of her heart. It’s hard to move through, like the air is made of syrup, and Marie imagines that staying still for too long would bury her under this, that she’d reach a point where she couldn’t move at all, couldn’t see, couldn’t scream-

                “Let’s get moving.” Marie says.  She looks for Alcor, and finds him waist-deep in the grey. “Alcor? Do you need help?”

                He says something, but she can’t make it out. She grabs his arm and starts pulling him up.

                “Come on, Alcor. We need to get to my mind.”

                “This is wrong.”

                “What?”

                Alcor looks dazed, scared. The ash is up to his neck.

                “What is it, Alcor?”

                Slowly, he turns that expression on her, and she feels a shiver go up her spine.

                “This… is your mind.”

                “Okay. Is this not normal?”

                “Not normal? There’s nothing here!” He gestures, and shreddings of her mind follow the wake. “I don’t - I don’t even know how you’re alive right now! I feel nothing here, no thoughts, no memories… n-no soul!”

                That strikes a chord in Marie, but she tries to keep it contained for now. “Huh,” she strokes her chin. “But you felt souls within me. They have to be somewhere.”

                She looks down at Alcor, sinking into the ash, and then at her own feet. They’re a little buried, and she can feel a… warmth, the further down she lets them go.

                “Hmm.” She glances over at him again. “I think you have the right idea.”

                Alcor doesn’t reply; she can only see the top of his head now, and as she watches it’s swallowed up into the sea of ash. That left her standing there, trying not to extract herself as she sinks down to her shins.

                “Just do nothing. Let it happen.”

                Marie stands there for a moment, staring out into the grey. With nothing to do, she can pick out vague, dark shapes; a little unsettling, and the ash feels slightly… sharper, than she first thought.

                She wonders if this is a good idea, and that’s when a hand grabs her ankle. Marie jumps and kicks herself free… and finds herself right back on top of the ash. She pauses, then frowns.

                “Huh. This is literally my own mind playing tricks on me.” She kicks at the ash. “Fuck you, let me through already.”

                The ash is barely falling now, and she rolls her eyes.

                “Great. Maybe there’s another way through.” Marie starts pacing. “Or I could ask Alcor for help… would summoning work here? I wonder where he even went.”

                There was a mumbling from the ash. She looks down, and sees Alcor surface.

                “Marie!” He looks relieved. “There you are! I thought I’d lost you!”

                “Yeah, some mind guide you’ve been so far.”

Alcor makes a face. “Sorry. I was just… shocked.” He reaches out a hand. “Come on. You’ll want to see this.”

                “Something tells me I won’t, but sure.” She takes it. “Lead o-”

                He dives beneath the ash, and she manages only a gasp before- darkness. Worse than darkness: stillness. She breathes the weeks she spent wasting away in her bedroom, feels the stale air and stale thoughts scratching across her whole being. And it’s getting worse, getting hotter, getting to those nights when the air conditioner wasn’t enough and the sun was glaring down at her through the blinds and still she couldn’t even summon the energy to kick the fucking covers off of her-

                Light. Blinding light. Marie stumbles forward, eyes squeezed shut, and it’s all she can do to hold onto Alcor. She can feel his arm raise up to point.

                “Look.”

                “A little, little warning next time, thanks…” She blinks open her eyes, and then frowns. “Okay, I’m looking. What is it?”

                It is coming out of the centre of this narrow chamber. It is thin and narrow, pitted with holes like a termite mound. It has a dark, rocky hide to it, but small fissures reveal something underneath, something pink, something pulsating, something alive. She looks to Alcor, and sees he’s gone sheet white.

                “What is it?”

                “It’s…” He takes a step closer. “You. Your mind. Your soul. Everything that you are.”

                “Okay. How do we fix it?”

                “Wh- Marie, I-” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve been asked to heal souls before, but this is…” Another step closer, and he’s eye to eye with its peak. “I’ve never had so little to work with.”

                “Well, you’ve still got something to work with. What’s the first step?” She rolls her eyes at his bewildered expression. “Come on, Alcor. Walk me through how you’d usually treat something like this.” A pause. “Well?”

                “I’m sorry, I just…” His voice is faint. “No wonder I can barely feel your aura. I don’t know how you’re talking to me right now, I- Ow, you pinched me!”

                Marie draws her hand back. “Okay, the first step is to stop panicking. Now that you’ve done that, can you tell me what you do next?”

                “I, uh…” He tries to gesture to the mound. “Well, usually I’d step inside their mind to figure out what’s wrong, but-”

                “Okay. Is that possible?”

                Alcor pauses. “I guess… size is a lot less defined in the mind.”

                “It’s worth a shot, then.”

                “Yeah. Yeah!” He moves towards the mound, and shoots her a grin. “You’re good at this!”

                “At not panicking? It’s half my job.” She nudges him forwards. “Let’s go.”

                Alcor nods, and then lifts up his foot. He’s taller than the mound, but he steps his leg into it and seems to fit into one of the tiny holes. He offers his hand to Marie, and she takes it.

                “Ready?” He says, and she nods. “Alright. This is it.”

                He leans down, and Marie feels the world shrink around her as she’s led into the hole. She looks behind her, and there’s no opening where they came through. Before them, though…

                “Huh.” She raises her eyebrow. “It’s the old hospital I used to work at.”

                And it is… mostly. It’s the same mint green hallways she’d worked in for years, but there’s definitely something off about it. There’s no sound. The lights are dimmer. When she tries to read the room numbers, the words shift and twist and refuse to make sense. Stranger still, there’s something long and thin and red nestled against the baseboard, trailing into the darkness.

                “Doesn’t look so bad.” Marie turns to Alcor. “What do we do from here?”

                He looks uncomfortable. “Marie…”

                “What?”

                “It’s… I just…” He hesitates, and then shakes his head. “I’ll ask you later. What did you say?”

                “Where do we go from here?”

                “We, uh… well, we find where the extra souls are.”

                “I see.” She eyes the blood vessel as it gently pulsates. Cracks have formed around where it’s dug itself in. “Anything we should be cautious of?”

                “Doors are common mental representations of memories.” He makes a face. “Probably shouldn’t go around opening them, if we can help it. Or anything else that looks... significant.”

                “No, we shouldn’t.” She takes a step forward, and then motions for him. “Come on.”

                “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

                They walk forwards, keeping an eye out for anything unusual. There’s far more crossroads here than there are in the real hospital, Marie notices; it feels like every five steps they come across another path, and, for lack of a good reason to turn, they go straight every time. As they continue, she can pick up a faint hum… or a beep.

                Beep, beep, beep.

                                beep, beep, beep.

                                                one two three.

                The blood vessel in the corner branches off at the next intersection; they look like they’re going in all directions at first, but she blinks and-

                                                right right right

                The right path. The only path. It’s covered from floor to ceiling in hot wet viscera, and she feels her heart skip a beat.

                                                right right right rightleftright RIGHTRIGHTRIGHT

                “I guess we know where we’re going, huh?” She can distantly hear Alcor’s nervous chuckle. “You okay?”

                “I’m fine.” Marie takes a step forward with her right foot. “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

                Make it right. Now that she hears the beeping it’s deafening; now that she notices the right path, it compels her to go that way every time. They take three more rights, and she can start to feel Alcor’s worried eyes on the back of her head like she doesn’t know that she’s just leading them in circles now. She’s not an idiot.

                Another intersection comes up, and she eyes the path straight ahead. She’s not an idiot.

                                (shes-(shes-

                She steps forward, and suddenly the beeping is screaming, the ground is shaking, the walls are pressing in around them. She can hear Alcor shout something as her feet give way beneath her and she’s falling, falling, falling…

                “Hey.”

                Marie feels a hand on her arm. She recoils.

                “Are you okay, mi cielito?”

                “I…” She stares at the kettle she’s reboiled five times now. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

                “Okay.”

                “I look like an idiot, don’t I.”

                “No, you don’t.”

                “I do. Of course I do, I-”

                “I’ve never thought that once.” She can feel him standing next to him, thinking. “Is there anything I can help with, today?”

                “I… I don’t know.” A chuckle. “You could boil this for me over and over again, heh… no.”

                “I can’t help you do that to yourself.”

                “I know.”

                A pause. Marie blinks, and looks at her hand. It’s smooth, devoid of wrinkles.

                “How about if you go to the living room, and I make you some tea?”

                “Santino?” She watches his eyes disconnect from her, wave at where she once shuffled around the corner. She backs away. “This isn’t real, this is - memory. I need to get out of here.”

                “Is there anything I can help with, today?”

                That came from Santino. Her head whips up, and he’s picking out a mug. No one else is in the room.

                “What?” She steps closer. “Santino?”

                A heartbeat later, she feels something grab the back of her scrubs and pull. She stumbles back into the hospital, and Alcor breathes a sigh of relief.

                “I found you!” He laughs nervously. “Again. Are you okay? Everything kind of broke apart for a second there.”

                Marie nods. “I’m… okay. I-“

                “Oh, whoa.”

                She watches his eyes go wide. “What?” She asks, and follows his gaze to…

                The doorway. Or doorways - it looks like it’s duplicated inside of itself, and the frame’s taken on a W-shape. Right in the centre, fitted like a keystone, is something small, something glowing, something that makes her heart skip a beat.

                “A soul,” she breathes. Through the doorway, she can see Santino taking a mug of tea into the living room. “What happens now? Alcor?”

                Alcor steps forward, and with one hand he reaches up to the soul. She can see him frown, and then before she can speak again he steps back and tries to yank it out; a pain shoots through her temple at that, and her blood runs cold.

                “St- stop! Stop!” She pushes his arm. “You’re gonna break me, stop!”

                “Marie!” There’s hands on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

                “I’ll be… fine.” She rubs her head. “As long as you don’t start yanking parts of me out again. What was that for?”

                Alcor makes a face. “I’m sorry. I thought it’d work - souls don’t exactly like being in close proximity to each other.” He sighed. “I’ve never… I’ve never seen this. I don’t know how it got integrated into your mind, but you’re right. It’s not going to come out easy.”

                Marie stares at the soul. She reaches up, touches it, feels along the edges. There’s a definite seam there, but it’s thin.

                “Huh. I wonder…” She looks over at him. “Scalpel.”

                “What?”

                “Hand me a scalpel.”

                He raises an eyebrow, but he digs in his pocket and draws one out. Marie positions herself over the soul, and gently traces the blade along the edge. When nothing breaks, she slides it in a little deeper, and feels the soul loosen.

                “Forceps.”

                “Huh?”

                “Forceps?” Marie looks down at him. “Oh, just hand me some tweezers or something, I don’t want to drop this.”

                She feels him slip a pair into her hand, and she gently holds the soul in place while she runs the scalpel down the other edges. It’s very, very loose when she’s done - just the slightest tug, and it comes away.

                The soul is gently glowing between her forceps. The door before her shifts in her absence, straightens into a regular doorway. She looks at the memory, and it’s from her point of view, in the living room. She looks up at a gentle knock, smiles as Santino comes through with a cup of tea.

                She looks down at the soul cupped in her hands. It’s warm, and she feels a tap on her shoulder.

                “You did it.” Alcor smiles. “Give it to me.”

                “What are you going to do with him?”

                “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt it. I just want to release it back into the cycle.” His smile shrinks a little. “It’s where it wants to go.”

                Marie hesitates, but she can feel a sort of restlessness to the soul; little arms of light are trying to worm their way through her fingers. She holds him out, gently places him into Alcor’s hands, and watches him blow on the soul. He fades away, leaving nothing behind.

                “There.” Alcor dusts off his hands. “It’s at peace now. When there’s enough of it back in the cycle, it can reincarnate into someone new.”

                “I see,” she says, quietly. She stares at his hands a moment longer… and then tears her eyes away.

                Turns to look at the hallway of embedded souls stretched out endlessly before them, glittering like the night sky.

                “I see.” She says. “I have a lot of work to do.”

                “Marie-” There’s something in Alcor’s tone that makes her glance at him. He won’t look her in the eyes. “I… uh… listen, I don’t want to pry, but…”

                “You want to know how this happened, don’t you.”

                “I just - I’m sorry I was… less prepared for this, than I made myself out to be.” He stared at the hallway of souls. “Truthfully, I’ve never seen anything like this. I don’t want to make you feel weird, like saying you should be dead or something, but- you should be dead. I’ve only seen damage like this in ancient ghosts and - I don’t know, souls I’m halfway through eating.”

                He barks a laugh. It isn’t a funny sound.

                “So I guess I can’t lie, I wanna know what happened. If you want to tell me.” He blinked. “And I mean, if you even know. Do you?”

                Marie pauses, and gives a grim smile. “Oh, of course I know what happened.” Her eyes trail back to the door, to Santino sitting with her on the couch. Her expression darkens.

                “The time I killed my husband. I could never forget.”

[maybeacrowdedmind]

My Top Seven Favorite Musical Moments In Shows That Aren't Musically Driven* and why (in no particular order)**

*By not musically driven I mean shows that do not have plots driven by music (i.e. Glee, Smash, etc. etc.)

**I know I said top seven, but I just mean out of the many I have seen, these seven are the ones I like the most.

Note: None of the images used are mine; they belong to various internet gods.

#1

Legacies Season 1 Episode 11: We're Gonna Need a Spotlight

Kaleb and the Vampire faction singing "Feeling Good" by Nina Simone at the Salvatore School talent show.

While the entirety of the talent show was amazing (Kaylee Bryant's singing voice, Raf's slightly awkward yet still appropriately dramatic poetry), it was Kaleb and the vampires who stole the show. Chris Lee has an incredible voice and his rendition of Nina Simone's "Feeling Good" was stunning, both visually and vocally. I'm also a great lover of epic dance moves, so it was no contest.

#2

Gilmore Girls Season 7 Episode 20: Lorelai? Lorelai?

Lorelai singing "I Will Always Love You" by Dolly Parton originally (Whitney Houston covered) at Stars Hollow karaoke to Luke, despite beginning the song as a dedication to Rory.

Lorelai and Luke may be broken up, but Lorelai's beautiful (and slightly alcohol-fueled) version of Dolly Parton's kind of cheesy yet nonetheless tender "if you love someone, set them free" ballad that was later made into an iconic cover by Whitney Houston was proof that they'd never really be over. Sure, she says she's singing it to Rory, but the moment Luke walks in and they lock eyes, everyone knows. Lauren Graham also has a good voice, and the emotion that comes through is so real, a cheesy karaoke moment becomes a heartfelt cheesy karaoke moment.

#3

Everything's Gonna Be Okay Season 1 Episode 5: West African Giant Black Millipedes

Nicholas doing a drag queen routine to Thelma Houston's disco hit "Don't Leave Me This Way" for Alex and his friends.

Okay, so I love this scene so much, because not only is it done to an incredibly fun song, it also showcases Nicholas doing something so utterly entertaining for Alex and a bunch of people he was nervous about meeting. The fact that just a few days before watching this episode I had watched an episode of Ru Paul's Drag Race where two queens had to lip sync for their lives to the very same song made the scene that much more enjoyable to watch. Nicholas looks amazing, his dance moves are to die for, and his lip syncing game is strong. I also appreciated the fact that when he did this scene, Josh Thomas committed to it. The scene is done in full, not going for a bit and then fading out before we get to see the end. Also, I know that Nicholas isn't technically singing, but it still totally counts.

#4

The Magicians Season 1 Episode 4: The World in the Walls

Quentin starting up a group sing-along to Taylor Swift's "Shake It Off" to get Penny's attention in the mental hospital while under Julia and Marina's spell.

I just started watching this show after having read the first two books, and this scene was HILARIOUS! I loved that the show used a random interaction between Quentin and Penny from a previous episode and turned it into something more because usually shows ignore one-off interactions between characters. Also, Quentin singing off-key at the top of his lungs with everyone else joining in and dancing while Penny suddenly hears it in the real world was so funny and a huge break in an otherwise extremely dramatic and rather dark episode.

#5

Skam Season 2 Episode 3: Er det noe du skjuler for oss? (Are You Hiding Someone From Us?)

Noora singing Extreme's "More Than Words" on William's guitar, initially doing so to make fun of him, but quickly turning into a super sweet and romantic moment between the two.

Skam is another show I started watching recently, and Noora quickly became one of my favorite characters. Now, I'll admit, I wasn't too fond of the idea of William and Noora at first, but this scene changed my mind immediately. I'm also very into the whole "enemies to lovers" thing these two have with one another. All of the songs Noora sings in this scene are good, but "More Than Words" is the one where you really begin to see that William's feelings for Noora are not as one-sided as she says they are. Josefine Frida Petterson, who plays Noora, has an absolutely beautiful voice, and the vocalization and soft musicality throughout are stunning. This is one of my favorite scenes in this show to date, and everything about it was perfect.

#6

New Girl Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot

Coach, Schmidt, and Nick singing "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life" by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes from Dirty Dancing to Jess, who eventually joins in, after her date stands her up.

Poor Jess had just broken up with her boyfriend, moved into an apartment with three guys who have little to know emotional know-how when it comes to women, and had her first date since her breakup stand her up at a fancy restaurant. The situation was made worse by the fact that she was told to give up her table. When the boys showed up and claimed to be her boyfriends, it was sweet, but the moment they began singing "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life", they showed that they really did care about her. What makes this scene so funny is the fact that Nick (who begins it) and Coach (who joins in after Nick elbows him) don't really know the words, they're both singing different parts in different tunes at different volumes, and then Schmidt (who initially says he's not singing), comes out of nowhere belting the song with the correct words and tune. Then Jess joins in and they have a great time until the restaurant makes them leave. They head back to the apartment, watch Dirty Dancing, and show that any problem can be solved with good friends and 80s movies.

#7

Angel Season 2 Episode 11: Redefinition

Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn sing "We Are The Champions" by Queen at Caritas after Angel fires them.

Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn had just been fired by Angel so he could kill Darla and Drusilla without their interference and the trio was at a loss for what to do next. Angel Investigations was disbanded, and none of them had any clue what to do about it. Their solution? Terribly sing Queen's "We Are The Champions" at Lorne's bar Caritas and drown their sorrows. While an extremely short scene, Cordy, Wes, and Gunn's reaction to being fired was super relatable, and you can never go wrong with Queen. They also have three very different personalities; Cordelia is snarky, has a lot of wit, and tends to be rather superficial, but she has so much heart beneath the surface, Wesley is a stuffy English professor type, and being a former Watcher means he couldn't be hip and cool if he tried, and Gunn is a hardened vampire hunter with a strong resolution and loyal to the core, who was still relatively new to the group when Angel gave them the boot. As such, seeing them all be together with arms around shoulders singing their hearts out was immensely fun to see.

Honorable Mentions:

Legacies: Alaric singing "Take Me Out To The Ball Game" terribly off-key before Kaleb and Cleo swooped in and saved the day with their improvised song.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Giles Singing "Free Bird" while playing his guitar in his home.

How I Met Your Mother: Lily and Marshall singing "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" at karaoke, effectively making up after Marshall accepts a corporate job rather than one that fits his morals.

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

The Yugioh Arcs Ranked

I’m going to rank all the main arcs of the original Yugioh anime with the exception of season zero and Capsule Monsters, because I haven’t seen those. This is just my own personal opinion, it’s not objective in any way. In fact, from looking at other people’s lists, I think I might piss a few people off with how I ranked these. Remember, this is just my opinion. Also, disclaimer, I did watch this show in dub. While from what I’ve seen of the sub is infinitely better, I did get into the show and I do still think it is a good show in dub. Still, some of the story details might be slightly different for that reason. (Going forward with the spin-offs, I am watching sub.)

7 Dungeon Dice Monsters

This arc served one purpose and one purpose alone: to introduce Duke Devlin/Ryuji Otogi and establish him as a friend of the main group before he comes back in Battle City to… do basically nothing? Personally, I barely saw the purpose in Tristan/Honda and Anzu/Tea so introducing yet another cheerleader for Yugi who doesn’t do much on his own confuses me. Ryuji admittedly has more character than Honda and Anzu and the stuff with the Dungeon Dice Monsters game itself is kind of cool but the other arcs had much more to them so this arc is at the bottom just by default.

6 Noah’s Saga (Or Virtual World)

Onto the first filler arc. There are three arcs of this show that don’t accomplish anything for the overall story and this is one of them. If you don’t know, these arcs aren’t even from the manga. In Japan, Yugioh was based on a then ongoing manga so the filler arcs were created to give the manga writer time to finish the manga so the anime could adapt it. So while I understand the reasoning behind this, I think placing Noah’s Saga in the middle of Battle City was a pretty bad idea in my opinion, as it's nothing but a distraction that destroys the flow of the story and goes on for way too long. It’s not bad though. The deck master gimmick is fun and adds an interesting twist to the duels. It was also interesting learning more about the Kaiba family and especially Seto’s backstory. Overall however, this arc drags in parts and while Noah is still a good villain objectively, he's a complete brat and I personally find that annoying. Still, it was nice seeing Mokuba turn Noah to the heroes’ side through sheer goodness alone.

5 Grand Tournament (Or KC Grand Prix)

Another filler arc. I’m putting this one over Noah’s arc because while that one had the better individual moments and did more for the characters, this arc didn’t overstay its welcome like that one did. It also genuinely shocked me by having Kaiba actually defeat the main villain rather than going the stereotypical way and having Yugi beat him. That’s worth a few points in my book. (It was also just a really good duel.) I also liked Joey’s/Jonouchi’s duel with Yugi’s grandfather, his former mentor. It was annoying how he didn’t recognize him but it was still a nice way to show how far Jonouchi has come since the start of the series. Overall, this arc is just fine. I’d probably skip it if I ever rewatched the series but it’s not without its merit.

4 Duelist Kingdom

Okay, this is the point where I’m probably gonna piss people off. Don’t get me wrong, I still like Duelist Kingdom. It’s a really good start to the show, gradually establishing the characters and the game of Duel Monsters in a really natural way. It also includes some of my favourite duels in the series: Kaiba and Yugi’s duel on the tower, and Kaiba and Yugi’s duels with Pegasus. Speaking of Pegasus, he’s a great villain. He is made out to be undefeatable and actually lives up to that reputation due to the powers of the Millenium Eye. Yugi and the Pharaoh have to repeatedly switch minds in order to beat him, which was really interesting to see. However… This is not the best arc of the show. A lot of the duels before the finals aren’t all that interesting and go on for way too long. They’re not bad duels per say, just uninteresting and padded. When I first started watching this show, I was mostly using it as background while I wrote. The filler duels just didn’t grab my attention and I have no interest in revisiting them. The parts that made me look up from my writing were anything with Kaiba (who I latched onto very early for personal, coping reasons), the times Bakura went into evil mode, and pretty much everything from Yugi and Kaiba’s duel on the tower and onward. I knew about Kaiba attempting suicide but what I didn’t know was that the Pharaoh nearly went through with killing him and had to be stopped by Yugi. That was the moment where I realized this show was more than just “a dumb kids’ show” and was willing to go dark places, despite how much the 4Kids dub wanted to hide that. It was the moment where I actually became interested in the show. So yes, this is a good arc, but later arcs in my opinion topped it.

3 Waking the Dragons

Yes, I put a filler arc over the classic season one. Honestly though, this season was so good I didn’t even know it was a filler arc until I did my research. Sure, it moved the focus away from the Millennium Items but the character development for Mai, Yugi, and the Pharaoh felt so genuine and was really interesting. This season basically forced me to see the differences between Yugi and the Pharaoh by separating them for quite a bit of the season, which was another thing that really surprised me. I was used to this show being darker at this point. However, I never expected them to actually kill the main character, even if it was obviously just temporary. That’s a pretty ballsy move. I grew to really like the Pharaoh and Yugi this season. And Mai’s fall to villainy and the exploration of her trauma from Battle City was very interesting and tragic. This show writes villains very well and this season is a great example of that. I really like stories where the villains’ motivation is to destroy the world due to their hatred of humanity/the world. Valon, Allister, and Raphael all have genuinely sad backstories that perfectly explain why they adopted this viewpoint. Dartz not so much. However, he is still a great villain. He has such a presence and the way he manipulated all these people and even twisted their minds with the Orichalcos was delightfully twisted. However, his ‘redemption’ at the end was really out of nowhere and unnecessary and Pegasus’s involvement in this season was… weird to say the least. Overall, however, I really like this arc. I understand the backlash, since this is a filler arc and a really long one at that, but I personally really enjoyed it.

2 Dawn of the Duel

Yeah, the final arc isn’t the best one. Time travel stories really don’t appeal to me personally. However, in situations where the thing in question was already bonkers as hell before introducing time travel I’m more willing to let it slide and get into the silliness of the time travel idea rather than picking it apart. A lot of its logic makes no sense if you think about it even a little but seeing the conclusion to all these long running arcs was really satisfying. Bakura is also a great villain. I was wondering what they were going to do with him all series so for him to finally have the spotlight as the main villain and to learn that he actually had a sympathetic backstory was really cool to see. This is the arc with the least actual dueling so I can see why people who watch this show for the duels would be disappointed. However, I watched the show for the lore and the characters, which were the focus of this arc and personally, I loved seeing the ancient real life version of Duel Monsters. The battles felt more intense due to them being real. Also, I will admit that the final scene where they all say goodbye to Atem got tears out of me, which I didn’t think this show would ever do.

1 Battle City (Both parts, splitting it was stupid)

Okay, this is the season that made me a fan. It’s the point where I started actively blogging about it and even analyzing it a bit. First of all, this arc had, in my opinion, the best villain in the series: Marik. His redemption arc was the only one in the show that was justified or made any goddamn sense for that matter (besides Kaiba but I don’t really count him as a villain). Marik’s backstory did a good job making him sympathetic without excusing his terrible actions. Even before his darker side took over, Marik was a really good villain, using his millennium item to mind control and kind of terrorize his minions all while hiding in the shadows so when the heroes actually see him, they don't even realize it's him. Granted the story didn't do much with that plot point but it was still cool. Also, I didn’t think this show would actually go as far as to have the villain mind control Yugi’s friends and even force Yugi to duel one of them to the death. That genuinely surprised me, as did the Yami Marik twist. This arc also added a lot to the lore, which was the aspect of Duelist Kingdom that I was most interested in and was barely touched on in that arc. In Battle City however, we got the Egpytian God Cards, two more Millenium Items, the history of the Tomb Keepers, all of which were really interesting. This arc also has a lot of the best duels in the series, which I can try and list:

-Kaiba vs Ishizu (I hate the way destiny is written in this series, but Kaiba changing his destiny was the most badass thing ever. Even I can’t deny that.)

-The best Yugi vs Kaiba battle (Tied with their Duelist Kingdom one honestly, those are both great but this one had two god cards clash. I can’t help but love it.)

-Jonouchi vs Marik (The sub gave me chills and even the dub made my heart skip a beat and think they were actually going to break anime rules and let Jonouchi win. Also, the dub gave us the amazing “according to my math, six is higher than two” line, which I unironically love.)

-Yugi vs Marik (I mean come on. It’s the final battle and seeing Marik regain control and overcome his dark side was great.)

Anyways, that was my personal ranking. I think I’m generally in agreement with the fandom consensus except I feel Duelist Kingdom is a little overrated and Waking the Dragons is underrated. I will do this with GX when I finish it though I admit I have been really on and off about watching that show due to real life reasons.