#jamie get fired challenge go

[nameless-jamie]

TARTT'S CORNER - Jamie Tartt x Y/N

A/N: Hello, this is going to be my second FF. I wanted to take a different approach this time and post a Prologue or Teaser first. If this gets a good reaction I will proceed with the idea. Thank you so much for reading.

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is Richmond's Own Premier League Podcaster. Recently hitting global fame in the Podcast and Football world. Her opinions are important and her takes on matches are like a 'Hail Mary' for every Richmond fan. She had several Global players and most importantly Richmond players and coaches in her Podcast, thanks to her good friend Keeley Jones. Her next challenge, a Podcast series with the ever so charming Jamie Tartt.

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem! reader

Prologue

Chapter 1: Behind the Mic

Chapter 2: The Star Player

Episode One: The Golden Boy

Chapter 4: Kickoff at Nelson Road

Episode Two: Off the Pitch

Chapter 6: The Late-Night Recording

Chapter 7: Friendly Fire

Episode Three: Foul Play

Chapter 9: Is This What They Call ‘Feelings’?

Chapter 10: Jealous, Jealousy

Episode Four

....more Chapters in Progress

Imagines/Short Stories

A/N: If you have any ideas for blurbs or imagines about this fic you can tell me and i'll try to write it!

Please like, repost or follow if you don't want to miss any updates!

[tateypots]

His Favourite Holiday

Joel x f!reader

Word Count 4.9K

18+ MDNI NON-CON

Summary: Being a ghost is super boring until a little Halloween power surge means Joel can finally get his hands on you.

A/N: I know this won’t be for everyone so please heed the warnings before reading, please protect yourself, I am not responsible for what you consume on the internet. Let me know if I missed anything. Written for @mermaidgirl30 Jamie’s Halloween Writing Challenge

TW: non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation (m and f), mentions of death and being dead, haunting, non-consensual groping, non-consensual fingering, non-consensual oral (f receiving), non-consensual piv, non-consensual cream pie.

_____________________________________________

Death was nothing like Joel had expected. It was, to put it mildly, excruciatingly dull. He hadn’t been entirely sure what would happen to him after his body finally gave up on him. He’d given up on the notion of God the night he’d lost Sarah, and with that any thought of heaven and hell went out of the window for him too. He supposed he’d been hoping for peace. That he finally might rest easy. No such luck. Instead he found himself aimlessly wandering around Jackson, watching his family and friends and neighbours carry on with their lives, unable to influence the world around him. To himself he still felt solid so it had been quite the shock the first time someone walked right through him. He still wasn’t quite used to that all these months later.

At first he had refused to accept his insubstantiality. Trying hard day after day to move something, knock a bottle off a table, tug back a curtain, give Tommy a quick swat to the back of the head. Anything to make himself known. If he could do that he could be useful he thought to himself. A tireless guardian keeping watch by the gates, able to alert the guards to anything they’d missed. But nothing ever happened, his hand just sinking right through whatever it was he was aiming at.

When he finally gave up hope of ever being able to interact with the world again he began occupying himself by spying on the townsfolk. Although now he supposed it was less spying and more haunting. But life within the walls of Jackson wasn’t all that exciting. The odd fight breaking out over imagined slights and misunderstandings and the occasional scandal of infidelity. He wished he could go out on a patrol but he was bound within the walls of Jackson, anytime he’d tried to leave he’d found himself ricocheted back to the square right in the centre of town.

He kept mostly to the public places. Only ever entering the homes he’d been invited inside while he was alive, some vestige of decency still clinging to him, not wanting to violate the privacy of his neighbours too far. It didn’t leave him too many options, having never made that many connections while he’d been breathing. Really it was only Tommy or Ellie’s homes that he ever found himself in. But he could never stomach to stay long. The ache that came with watching them was almost too much to bear.

So for months he carried on with his boring, lonely existence, no purpose and nothing to look forward to. Until you arrived.

Your arrival was the most noteworthy thing to happen to Jackson since his own demise, and to Joel, bored out his mind and bitter with frustration you were a shining beacon of hope. Someone new, a change to the dull routine he’d been forced into. It didn’t hurt that he found you painfully attractive, your soft curves and pretty face lighting a fire in him that he never thought he’d feel again.

You’d been picked up on patrol and brought back, you seemed a sweet shy thing, all wide eyed wonder and mumbled gratitude. You clearly thought Jackson was too good to be true, he saw you pinch yourself multiple times in an attempt to convince yourself you weren’t dreaming. And when Maria brought you to your new home, a small one bed cottage near the outskirts of town, he broke his rule and followed you inside, desperate to learn more about you.

After a quick tour and promise to return later to take you to the dining hall Maria departed. Joel did not. He watched you mill from room to room, getting your bearings. He followed you into the bathroom and watched as you turned the shower on. You squealed with excitement at feeling the water turn warm, shucking your clothes like they were hurting you and diving under the stream.

The moan you released when the warm water hit your skin made his dick twitch. He didn’t know it could do that anymore, but then you turned and he got an eyeful of your beautiful, glistening tits and his cock was at full mast almost immediately. Instinctively he reached into his pants and grabbed hold of his throbbing erection, giving it an experimental stroke. God it felt good. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t tried this since he found himself in this new state of being, but then, he hadn’t had much to get excited over. Until now.

He moved closer, watching as you ran a sudsy washcloth over your glorious body, stroking himself in a steady rhythm. Fat droplets of water cascading down your tits and over your nipples made his mouth water. God what he wouldn’t give to suckle them. To suck that supple flesh into his mouth, kiss and bite and mark them, hear you moaning and whimpering under him.

You turned and bent down to wash your legs and feet, putting your pussy on full display for him. The groan he released, had it been audible, would have rattled the windows with its volume and intensity. It was so pretty and perfect. He couldn’t stop his free hand from shooting out as if to caress your folds but of course his hand sank right through your flesh. Biting back his disappointment at not being able to touch you he focused his gaze back on your body. Gazed longingly at your little hole, noting how much of a struggle it would be to force his big, throbbing cock into it, dreaming of how tight it would clench him.

You stood back up and positioned yourself back under the water, releasing a dreamy sigh of contentment that was enough to push Joel over the edge. He came hard, the thrill rushing through him like he’d been struck by lightning. He watched as phantom jets of cum fired onto to your belly only to disappear almost immediately. Well at least he didn’t have to worry about clean up. Being dead did have some perks after all.

Joel couldn’t help the small wave of guilt that washed over him. For using you so unabashedly for his own pleasure. But as he watched you carry on with your shower, completely unaware of his presence he decided it wasn’t doing you any harm and he needed this. What you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you. And this was the best he’d felt since he died.

And so Joel gave up on his feigned interest in the rest of the town and focused himself solely on you. He followed you everywhere, watched as you settled into Jackson, started work, made a few friends. And every night he’d follow you home and jerk off as he watched you shower before following you into your room to watch you sleep. You were so goddamn beautiful, he could sit and stare at you for hours and never be bored. And just like that Joel’s misery morphed into joy.

One night after a particularly busy shift in the Tipsy Bison, you headed straight for your bedroom once you finally made it home, stripping your clothes and pulling on the oversized t-shirt you wore to sleep. Joel was devastated to be robbed of his nightly relief, and also a little angry. He needed it, you were being incredibly selfish he thought, seemingly forgetting that you were not in fact willingly sharing your body with him, as if you had any idea at all of his presence.

He paced backwards and forwards at the foot of your bed, all pent up rage and frustration when you released a breathy moan, stopping him in his tracks. His head snapped towards you, lying on the bed, your legs bent at the knees and spread wide, your middle finger drawing light little circles on your clit. “That’s more like it,” he thought, his cock jumping to attention. He positioned himself right between your legs, hand around his cock. He watched every move you made, committing to memory all the things you liked, the movements that made you gasp and moan as he pumped up and down his cock. He watched as you teased yourself, building up speed and pressure before backing off and slowing down. You did this a couple of times before sliding your fingers down to your leaking pussy, rubbing faintly over your lips before plunging two fingers in deep. Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you as you began to pump them in and out releasing small whimpers when you let your thumb catch your clit with every inward stroke.

“You’re doing so good for me baby, keep going,” he growled at you, desperate to see what you look like when you come. “My fingers would feel so much better in there honey, I wish I could show you.” He could tell you were getting close as your breathing grew ragged and your moans grew louder. He tugged his cock in a frenzy, wanting to finish with you.

Your hips bucked off the bed and you let out a deep, long moan as your climax hit you. Joel was enthralled as he watched your body jerk and your cheeks flush, watched your slick, leaking hole clench around your fingers. With a final stroke of his cock he peaked, his cum landing over your pussy and hand before disappearing.

“Jesus baby, you’re incredible,” he praised as you slumped down on your bed, exhausted. You were asleep within seconds, forgetting even to turn off the bedside lamp.

_____________________________________________

As the months passed Joel’s obsession with you only grew. He’d only noticed the summer ending and the changing weather through the change in your clothes. Summer dresses replaced with jeans and sweaters. Joel mourned for the warmer weather and the extra glimpses of your soft skin it afforded. Not that he didn’t get to see every inch of you every day but still. He only realised Halloween was approaching when you brought home a small pumpkin, scooped out the delicate flesh and carved the carcass into a jack-o-lantern to place on your front porch. You spent the rest of the evening sewing some triangles of stiff fabric onto a headband to look like cat ears.

Joel had always loved Halloween. It had been his favourite holiday in the before, always choosing him and Sarah matching costumes to take her trick or treating, plotting out a route beforehand to hit the houses with the best candy first. Returning home and dutifully rationing out some candy for her before stealing some of the best bits once she was finally asleep, only to be told off in the morning when she realised some of her stash was missing.

The next morning you dressed yourself in a black jumper dress, drew a little nose and some whiskers on your face and topped it off with your headband and a ribbon around your neck to act as a collar. Joel stood behind you as you appraised your outfit in the mirror, “prettiest kitty I ever saw honey,” he told you.

“Huh?!” You spun around to take in the empty room, sure you’d heard a faint whisper. But of course, the room was empty.

“Can you hear me honey?”

There it was again. You ducked your head out into the hallway but still couldn’t see anything. “Hello, is someone there?”

“Yes honey, it’s me.” Joel was shouting now, following you as you moved down the hall into the living room, desperate for you to hear him. Just as you entered the living room a blur of black plummeted in front of you making you scream and jump back, only to realise it was your next door neighbour’s cat Toby, jumping off the bookcase he’d clearly been sleeping on.

“Jesus Toby, you scared the shit out of me,” you huffed, bending to pick up the meowing cat, “how’d you get in here, did you follow me in last night? Naughty boy, lets get you home.”

You walked out the door, cat in your arms, the faint whispers of Joel’s bellowing drowned out by your own voice and Toby’s contented purrs. You walked next door and knocked, stroking and kissing Toby’s head while you waited for Joan to answer.

“Hello deary,” she greeted you cheerfully, “oh Toby, have you been causing trouble?”

“Ha well, other than scaring me half to death he’s been a perfect house guest. He musta followed me in last night, sorry Joan.”

“Maybe you just caught his attention in that get up,” she cackled.

“Oh God, I totally forgot,” you groaned, “everyone working the Bison today is getting dressed up, thought it would be fun you know?”

“Well you certainly look the part, it’s a great costume. I’ll maybe swing by to see what costume Seth has picked out,” she chuckled winking at you and taking a content Toby from your arms, “thanks for bringing him back deary, I’ll let you get on.”

“See you later.”

Joel followed you silently to the dining hall. He was sure you’d almost heard him back at the house but there was no way you’d hear him now, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the busy town. It was so strange, why now after all this time? Maybe all the nonsense about Halloween wasn’t such nonsense after all? Maybe the veil between the living and the dead really was weakest today. Lost in his thoughts trying to remember all the old wives tales he’d heard about Halloween, he didn’t realise you had stopped in line to get your breakfast and he walked through you. But whereas normally he passed through the living like he was nothing but air, today he felt…resistance. Like he was viscous and had to force himself through you. Turning around he watched you shudder and a crooked smile graced his face. Maybe today he could have some real fun.

As you ate your breakfast he experimented with the items on the table. As with when he passed through you, anytime he pushed his hand against an object he felt an unusual resistance but the items remained steadfastly and disappointingly still on the table. But he refused to give up. And it’s not like he had much else pencilled in for today so he heaved a sigh and kept trying.

Once you were done he followed you like a faithful dog over to the Tipsy Bison. Letting yourself in you got to work straight away, hanging decorations round the walls of the bar, strings of paper spider webs and little bats and pumpkins that the kids in school had been making all week. Joel positioned himself at the end of the bar, watching you work as he half-heartedly tried to push the glass in front of him onto the floor.

Just as you finished you knocked the bag that had contained the decorations onto the floor, torn fragments of paper spilling from it and littering the floor like confetti.

“Ah crap,” you muttered to yourself, disappearing behind the bar for a moment reappearing with a dustpan and brush. You bent from your waist and vigorously started sweeping up the mess giving Joel a perfect view of your tits bouncing in your low cut dress. His dick twitched and the glass he’d been swatting at for the last half an hour sailed off the bar and smashed into the wall opposite.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard it smash. Trying to calm your breathing you wandered over to look at the broken glass now littering the floor, glancing around uneasily. Joel followed suit, in shock at what had just happened. “Fuck yeah baby, that’s what I’m talking about!” he yelled out causing you to jump once again, spinning round and once again being confronted by an empty space.

“He-hello. Who’s there?” you called out, backing your way behind the bar and retrieving the baseball bat Seth kept hidden there for in case folks got too rowdy. You circled the entire room, checking the toilets and the back room only to find them empty. You wandered back into the bar, bat still in hand but now hanging by your side.

“Oh honey, I ain’t gonna hurt you sweet thing,” Joel whispered right in your ear just as the bar door burst open and you swung the bat wildly in that direction.

“Jesus, what the fuck?!” Alex yelped, barely jumping back from the violently swinging bat, her witches hat falling from her head.

“God Alex I’m so sorry, something really fucking weird is happening. The glass flew off the bar and smashed and I’ve been hearing this whispering all day and I got this really weird feeling in the dining hall this morning…” you babbled out almost incoherently.

She considered you for a moment and then a smile broke out over her face, “you almost had me there for a second,” she giggled, “I admire your dedication to the bit, very convincing, you really do look terrified. Did Seth put you up to this?” She moved over to the bar and began getting organised.

“Alex I’m serious, something weird is going on.”

“Yeah ok, ok, look, I’ll tell Seth I believed you, that you gave me a good scare. I know how seriously he takes his pranks. I won’t let on that I figured you out straight away.”

“Alex…”

“You should probably clean that glass up, people will be coming in soon and we don’t want people to get hurt.”

You heaved out a sigh and replaced the bat behind the bar. She wasn’t going to believe you. And if you were honest with yourself, if someone had told you those same things you too would have taken it for nothing but a Halloween prank. Or that the person was crazy. You tried to put it out of your mind and got on with cleaning up.

Joel was brimming with joy. Oh he was going to have so much fun today. He kept practicing moving objects. More carefully now, not aiming to draw attention to himself again just yet. He pushed pictures slightly askew around the room, shuffled beer mats slightly around tables. All little controlled movements. It got easier each time. Like muscle memory building. Brimming with confidence he sidled up behind you as you cleaned a table, reaching his hand around you he hovered for a second before scooping your tit in his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.

Your yelp of surprise mixed with his groan of pleasure in his ears, he was fit to combust. Yanking his pants down he jerked off in the middle of the Tipsy Bison, coming embarrassingly quickly at the memory of the way your flesh had given under his hand, so soft and yielding. Fucking flawless.

Lost in his own little bubble he only caught the end of Alex admonishing you for continuing with the prank before turning to open the doors of the bar. Joel felt a wave of guilt as he took in your clearly overwrought appearance, your bottom lip trapped between your bottom teeth, swollen and raw from being chewed, your hands trembling as you gathered your cleaning materials and hurried behind the bar. He didn’t want to scare you. He wanted to make you feel good. He just hadn’t been able to help himself, finally able to make physical contact the draw of your sweet body had been too much for him. He had to have you and today might be his only chance. But he could back off for now. Give you a breather and allow you to settle your nerves. He couldn’t fuck you here after all. Still wasn’t entirely sure it would be possible at all but he was closer than he’d ever been. He’d waited all these long months, he could wait a few more hours.

So he kept the hijinks to a low level, continuing to practice moving items when no one was watching. He stayed in the bar and as it got busier you seemed to settle, your mind occupied with the regular hum-drum of your daily routine. You definitely seemed less on edge now that the strange occurrences seemed to have stopped.

Joel noticed as the day went on that he felt better and better. Stronger, invigorated. Moving items now came to him with ease, he was more and more convinced that tonight he’d get to have you. Finally. He felt giddy at the notion. So by the time the end of your shift rolled around he was impatient in his eagerness, shouldering people out of his way as he followed you towards the door, the bar busy enough that no one batted an eyelid at the jostling he caused.

“You’re not staying for a drink?” Alex asked as she spotted you heading out.

“I don’t know, it’s been a weird day. I might have a nap and see how I feel later.”

Alex rolled her eyes at you, “whatever grandma, enjoy your nap.”

Once you made it home you ran up the porch steps and hurriedly locked the door behind you, unable to shake the uneasiness you had felt since the morning. You checked every room, every cupboard, under the bed, every potential hiding place. Nothing seemed out of place. You listened, straining your ears to hear something. Joel watched the entire thing with a smirk on his face, staying resolutely quiet so as not to alarm you. Finally confident that you were alone you headed to the bathroom and jumped in the shower. Joel was fit to burst. But he didn’t want to take you in the shower, he wanted you in your bed, comfortable, where he could worship you for hours. So for now he contented himself with once again stroking himself to completion as he admired you.

Shower finished you headed for your bedroom wrapped in a towel. This was it, finally. Joel came up behind you and skimmed his lips along your neck. You yelped and spun round, to be confronted once again with an empty room. Tears gathered on your waterline, fear finally getting the better of your frayed nerves.

“Wh-whose th-there,” you stammered out.

That faint whispering caught your ears again. Slightly clearer than this morning. It sounded like laughing. A chill ran down your spine just as your towel was ripped from you and you were propelled backwards onto the bed.

Joel was hard as a rock as he looked at you splayed out on the bed, whimpering. He felt bad for scaring you but not bad enough to stop. He had to have you, he’d make it up to you. You’d calm down after a few orgasms, after he showed you how good he could make you feel.

He manhandled you on the bed so your head was lying on the pillows. Spreading your legs he kneaded and massaged the meat of your thighs as he admired your pretty little pussy up close.

“Stop, please stop,” you sobbed out. Joel gave one last devilish smirk before diving in, his flattened tongue running the full length of your folds before starting to flick at your clit. You couldn’t hold back the moan as Joel worked your little bud, your back arching as he sucked it into his mouth. Joel’s cock began to throb at the sight and sound of your pleasure. You writhed and wriggled and tried to pull away but Joel held you firmly in place, his arms clamped tight around your thighs.

His tongue left your clit and was immediately replaced with his thumb, rubbing small circles like he’d watched you do so many times. His tongue worked down through your folds back to your little hole which was now starting to glisten with the beginnings of your arousal. He plunged it inside of you, working it around your walls. Joel was elated to find he could taste you, sweet and tangy, albeit somewhat muted. After so long of not tasting anything it was heavenly, but how he wished he’d got to do this with his living tongue. Experience you fully.

He increased the pressure on your clit, before fucking you with his tongue at a desperate pace. You climaxed so beautifully for him, screaming out your peak while your body shuddered and slick gushed into his waiting mouth.

You sobbed uncontrollably as he climbed up your body, placing wet kisses over your mound and belly up to your heaving tits. Gathering the beautiful mounds in his hands he squeezed, revelling in their softness, the pliant feel of them in his hands. Groaning at finally getting his hands on them he sucked one nipple into his mouth, licking and grazing with his teeth as he pinched and rubbed the other with his forefinger and thumb before swapping sides and repeating the motions.

You moaned between sobs, fighting hard against the arousal that was being forced onto you. You were confused and terrified but your treacherous body was enjoying the sensations being showered upon you, arousal seeping out of your pussy and soaking your folds.

Still attached to your tit with his mouth, Joel’s hand stroked back down your body, grazing over your sensitive clit before moving down and circling your entrance.

“No, please no,” you begged, unable to see who or what was attacking you, all you felt was an impending intrusion, your fear spiking as you were breached. Your breathing hitched at the stretch, another uncontrollable moan escaping from your throat.

“There we go,” he mumbled around a mouthful of breast, “told you my fingers would feel good in there.” That faint whispering driving you crazy, just on the verge of being intelligible.

He pumped two fingers in and out before adding a hooking motion, searching for the spot that would have you seeing stars. You keened when he finally located it, your full body jerking at the sensation. No one had ever hit it before and you were reeling at how good it felt, your fear momentarily forgotten as all you could focus on was the pleasure radiating from your stimulated G Spot. Joel built up the speed of his thrusts, hitting that perfect spot every time. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your vision going white as your cunt clenched around Joel’s fingers, wave after wave of pleasure surging through you.

“That’s it honey, good girl. Oh that was a big one wasn’t it, you’re doing so good for me sweet girl.” He continued to finger you through your high, only removing his digits when he felt you go limp underneath him. He peppered your face with kisses as he positioned himself for the main event.

Taking his cock in his hands he notched it at your entrance and immediately pushed himself inside you with one decisive thrust. You screamed, the stretch and burn almost unbearable, even after two orgasms. You once again tried to wrestle and wriggle your way free but Joel lay atop you fully, trapping you underneath him. He didn’t move, giving you a chance to adjust to him. He was a lot to take and he remembered how small your little hole had looked compared to his cock on that first day.

As your pussy began to accept the intrusion and your muscles began to relax around him the fight left you. Exhausted and spent you stopped struggling and lay submissively underneath whatever you were being violated by, your now silent tears trickling down your face.

In an attempt to soothe you Joel pressed soft kisses onto your temple and hair as he began rocking his hips gently. You felt so fucking good, the velvet walls of your tight pussy sucking him in and gripping his cock deliciously. He groaned out as he began to increase the pace and intensity of his thrusts, mesmerised by the bounce of your tits each time he plunged himself inside of you.

“Feel so good honey, I knew you would, so fucking good, ohhhhh.” He hooked his arm under your knee, pushing it up to your chest to open you up further, letting him sink deeper inside. By now his pace was punishing, pounding into you and angling his hips to hit that special spot again and again. You were going to come on his cock. He had to know how it felt, sure it would better than any imagining his brain could conjure. He knew you were close, could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around him. Reaching a hand between you he once again found your clit, rubbing over it and drawing a moan from you. It wasn’t long until you were screaming for him again, your pussy clenching so good around him it sent him over the edge, pulsing with ecstasy as he came inside you with a roar of deep satisfaction.

Exhausted by your ordeal you were asleep before Joel pulled out of you. He stood off the bed and ran his gaze lustfully over you. He checked the clock next to your bed. Only 7pm. 5 hours of Halloween left. He smirked as he turned back to your sleeping form. He’d give you a little respite but he wasn’t done with you yet. It turned out Halloween was still his favourite holiday.

[xoxochb]

Saw your requests were open 👀 Can I request something sweet and fluffy with Jameson? It could be anything 💖💕

⸻ connect four ୨୧ ‧₊˚ 💋⋅🎲 ˖°

warnings: swearing ermmm that’s it pairing: jameson hawthorne x gn! reader a/n: my grandfather made a huuuuge connect four game for us and I knowwww jamie would have a field day with it 😝😝

“ready to lose?”

“are you?”

jameson cocks an eyebrow at you, dumping your blue hand-sized chip pieces into your bucket. “I don’t need to be ready, I’m going to win.”

“liar, liar pants on fire.” you throw a red piece at him. “better go change them.”

jameson smirks. “are you asking me to get naked?”

“I’m asking you to get away from me.”

his smirk downgrades to a playful pout. “bummer.”

you roll your eyes, assuring all of your pieces are with you before you stand on your side of what you believe to be the world’s biggest connect four.

you slide your first piece in the middle. jameson gasps, quickly picking up his bucket of pieces and putting one on the left of yours.

“I wasn’t ready to start. this should count as cheating.”

you examine the board carefully before placing your next chip on top of his. “you’re a fucking hypocrite.”

he shrugs and places his next chip next to the first one he placed. you stand back and look closely, attempting to analyze his motives behind his next move.

it was possible jamie was trying to get four in a row horizontally but you knew he was anything but that stupid or oblivious to you knowing that. so maybe not. or maybe he thought you were oblivious and wouldn’t notice.

whatever. you place a chip next to the two he had. he frowns and places one on top of yours.

too fucking easy.

you drop yours on top of his, resulting in three in a row. if you get him to fall into your trap for the last row you’d have four and win! ha!

“you’re thinking something,” jamie points out.

you shake your head with a scrunch of your nose. “I’m not thinking anything. just go, it’s your turn.”

he mocks you. you throw a wooden chip at him.

“that hurt! this is abusive!”

“just go!”

he quickly places his piece on top of yours before you throw another at him. two more and you’d have four.

you place your next on top of his recent.

“what are you trying to…” he trails off, brows furrowing as he intricately stares at the board.

“I’m growing gray hairs.”

“fine.” he places a chip on the opposite side of the board, leaving you to add in one on top of the one you had previously added.

just one more.

jameson places one of his chips on top of the one he just added.

and…

then you add your remaining piece, making four in a row.

“ha! I win! four in a row!” you drop your bucket and throw your hands into the air excitedly.

jameson mirrors, setting his bucket down, only with less enthusiasm.

“only because I let you win.”

“or you were scared I was going to throw another piece at you?”

“I was not scared.”

“okayyyy…” you laugh and unlatch the bottom of the board, letting all the pieces fall. “since I’m so kind I’ll challenge you to a rematch.”

jameson picks up his chips, handing you the blue ones in the process. “so you can throw more of these at me?”

“a professional never shares their secrets.”

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

E Rated Fics Masterlist (62)

Part 1 -Part 55 /  Part 56 / Part 57 / Part 58 / Part 59 / Part 60 / Part 61 / 

Created: May 28th, 2025

Last Checked:-----

Glühwein-MockingJayFlyingFree (ao3) Summary: Peeta thinks his wife, Katniss, is too pure to have any dirty sexual fantasies. It turns out he's wrong. Very wrong. When the opportunity arises, will they make her fantasies come true? Lex Talionis-maxwellandlovelace (ao3) Summary: Being locked up for almost a third of your life changes you. Your routine changes, the people around you change, your mind changes. But one person has always remained constant in my mind. And now he’s back. Lighting the tree-maxwellandlovelace (ao3) Summary: Peeta's work as a pilot in the Swedish Air Force sometimes keeps him away from Katniss. But this year he has a special Christmas gift for her. Mirage-MockingJayFlyingFree (ao3) Summary: In the Training Center, shortly before the Quarter Quell, Katniss and Peeta know they only have a few days left to live. To escape the nightmares, they seek comfort in each other’s arms every night. But sleeping next to the girl you love can be difficult when you’re a 17-year-old boy. Catching Fire – slight canon divergence. Peeta POV. Misplaced-mrspeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Inspired by Outlander and the Hunger Games. Katniss Everdeen is all alone in war-torn Panem during the post-Mockingjay time period when she suddenly stumbles across an ancient Native American circle of standing stones in the woods. She is unexpectedly transported to 1740s Scotland, where she meets Highlander/baker/laird-in-training Peeta Mellark. The two will go on a journey much less tragic than Jamie Fraser and Claire Randall do in Outlander, but will face several of the same types of complications. This story is eventual Everlark HEA. Mockingjay MC-mrspeetamellark (ao3) Summary: Down on her luck, a desperate Katniss Everdeen seeks employment as a ‘club girl’ (also known as a ‘sweetbutt’) with an outlaw motorcycle club. The appearance of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed biker changes everything she thought she was looking for, however. An Everlark motorcycle club AU with a happy ending. Performance Anxiety-Meadowlark27 (ao3) Summary: Katniss hates everything about her high school's arts requirement. That is, until she gets cozy with the drama teacher. Saligia-MockingJayFlyingFree (ao3) Summary: "He greets them with a smile, a sneering grin like a wolf, and he's deliriously happy because he has just thought of the ultimate way of killing the whore and her bastard Seam child." Seven deadly sins - all revolving around Katniss Everdeen and her relationship with Peeta Mellark. Written for the Prompts in Panem: Seven Deadly Sins challenge on Tumblr. Strip Tease and Gumdrops-titania522 (ao3) Summary: This is for my dear jennibrolawrence (bookpeetatbh on tumblr) who requested a little fic about elevators and breasts.  Surviving-msdisdain (ao3) Summary: Katniss and Finnick, during the time Peeta and Annie are prisoners of the Capitol.

[sokkigarden]

dancing with our hands tied (part i)

jamie tartt x female reader // nsfw 18+ // enemies to lovers // fwb

masterlist // read on ao3

summary: wearing the jersey of your self-proclaimed enemy wasn't supposed to go like this.

word count: 2.8k

decided to post this fic to tumblr! not sure if i will be doing a taglist, but i will be tagging each part with jamie tartt x reader + jamie tartt smut so if you are following those tags religiously (like me) then you can find it lol. its also on ao3 and will likely get updated there first if you'd like to subscribe that way. big shoutout to @whimsical-roasting for drafting this in our dms in a haze one night LMAO i would not have been able to write this without her<3333

༻✧✧✧༺

“No no no, there is no way I’m wearing that.”

Opposite of you, your best friend, Laney, stood with two Richmond jerseys in her hands. One said ‘Tartt’ across the back, the other, ‘McAdoo,’ but you already knew which one she wanted to wear. She had a raging crush on Isaac, so that left only one option for you.

And there was no way you were wearing Jamie Tartt’s fucking jersey.

You would never hear the end of it. As part of the team’s physio team, you had a good rapport with most of the players. You complimented them when they had a good match and joked around while working with them through their physical therapy treatments. 

You had a decent working relationship with everyone on the team. 

Everyone except for Jamie Tartt.

There was no question that since his return to Richmond, he had become a changed man, but his past words had left a lingering resentment. You didn’t think you were in the wrong to simply avoid interacting with the man. He hadn’t often been seen in the treatment room, and when he had, you typically passed off his treatment to another member of the team, along with some flimsy excuse for why you couldn’t do it.

But recently, as he trained more with Coach Kent outside of the dog track, he’d needed additional treatment. And as the new lead of the physio team, you were in charge of his treatment plan. 

In recent months, especially since working more closely with him, he’d started to notice the difference in behavior from you, leading to all sorts of jests and confrontations. Now, it seemed like he just got a kick out of teasing and inevitably pissing you off. You couldn’t help but fire some scathing shots back. What started out as a simple plan of avoidance had clearly backfired.

Now everytime he needed assistance with muscle cramps or pain medication, you got a conversation full of sarcasm and questions. It almost felt like sometimes he came in just to rile you up.

Just last week, Jamie came in to check on his ankle after a bad landing at training. You examined his leg and he made comments the entire time you had your hands on him.

“You know, I get waxed. Weekly. Everywhere.”

You had stumbled ever so slightly as you’d gone to grab an ice pack. You cringed inwardly, knowing this would only add more fuel to Jamie’s fire. You were tired of him getting the best of you, making you flustered. You wanted to fight back.

Turning back to him with the ice pack, you stared at him directly.

“Show me,” you challenged.

Jamie’s face held an incredulous expression.

“You mentioned it— you clearly want to,” you reasoned, shrugging your shoulders, “So show me.” 

You hoped your confidence in calling his bluff worked in your favor, and his face showed that he was clearly surprised by this turn of events. You couldn’t tell what he would do next. He rolled his eyes with that smug smirk on his face before he raised his eyebrows and lifted his shirt up. 

Sure enough, his chest was bare, showing off his sculpted muscles.

Jamie leisurely lounged across the treatment table, chest exposed, and you would be lying if you said your mouth didn’t water a little bit at the sight. Even after being around athletes on a daily basis, there was something about Jamie that just— hit different. His cockiness was surely annoying, but it was also incredibly arousing, as much as you hated to admit it. You felt a squeeze in your chest but you bit your tongue to keep yourself in line. There was no way that thought would ever bear fruit.

You shoved the ice pack into his lap, making sure some of it landed on the bare skin of his stomach, watching as he flinched a little bit at the abrupt action and cold temperature of the pack.

“Ice your ankle for twenty minutes, then stay off it the rest of the day,” you informed him, acting like the last few moments hadn’t happened. “You’ll be good to train tomorrow.”

Jamie scoffed at your indifference. He grasped the ice pack fully and let his shirt slide back down. 

“Sure, love, I’ll do that.” 

He knew you hated it when he called you by a pet name. That only made him use them more. You glanced back at him, staring into his eyes for a moment before you grabbed your bag. 

The tension in the room was palpable before you’d headed out to check on the rest of the players at training. You hadn’t said anything else as you’d left.

So, yeah. There was no way Jamie Tartt would ever let you hear the end of it if you showed up in his jersey number. 

“Oh, come on!” Laney pleaded. “I don’t want to wear a jersey alone.”

“Plenty of people do!”

“Yeah, but plenty of people don’t get to go behind the scenes and actually speak to the players,” she gushed. “I don’t want to meet them and look stupid all alone.”

“So instead, you want me to look stupid with you,” you gave her a flat look.

She smiled mischievously. “What? I thought it would be funny. You complain about him all the time.”

If only she fully comprehended the validity behind your complaints.

You knew there was no way you were ever going to win this fight, so you slipped on the jersey and braced for impact. You were happy to have Laney come along to a game, especially since you didn’t always attend matches and her being a big Richmond fan gave you an excuse to watch. You wanted today to be good, not just for you, but for her too. It was exciting to be able to take your best friend on a little ‘backstage’ tour during gameday. 

You hoped today would be good, and that you wouldn’t have any run-ins with the man who made your blood boil.

Alas, not even twenty minutes later, as you walked into the back of the Nelson Road stadium through the employee entrance, you promptly ran into none other than Jamie Tartt.

“Well well well, I didn’t realize someone was such a big fan,” the familiar Mancunian accent taunted behind you. 

You tried not to visibly cringe as you turned around to face Jamie. He was not yet in his kit, still wearing his street clothes: a monochrome denim set. It was frankly unfair how well the jeans fit him, but you refused to let your gaze linger for more than a few seconds. 

“Oh my, it's the infamous Jamie Tartt,” Laney greeted him playfully. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Your jaw clenched at her words as she reached out to shake his hand. He eagerly accepted.

“Have you?” he asked with a mischievous look in your direction that made you roll your eyes.

Laney nodded emphatically. “She talks about you all the time.”

You nudged her shoulder to get her to stop talking but she just looked at you innocently. She knew exactly what she was doing, and it seemed like Jamie did too.

“Oh, does she?” Jamie questioned. 

He was eating this up. His face was smug and you were sure this would haunt you for weeks to come. 

“Laney, why don’t you go get some snacks? Shouldn’t be a line since we are here a bit early. I’ve got to talk to Jamie before the match,” you said. “I’ll meet you at our seats?”

You smiled sweetly at her, but underneath the nice layer, you knew your eyes held an anger that had her quickly waving goodbye and scurrying off. You were more than happy to have her accompany you to a match, but this entire interaction was reminding you of why you hadn’t invited her sooner.

For a moment, you just stared at him. It was hard to look him directly in the eye sometimes. Despite the headstrong front you kept up, you weren’t used to dealing with such interactions. You weren't stupid, you knew that this dance you two engaged in fell close to flirting (at least that’s what Laney said), and when you looked directly at him, you remembered just how fucking hot he was.

It wasn't just his physical attributes. Sure, he was in excellent physical shape, and his hair looked particularly perfect ever since he started going a bit blond, and his lips were always in a little pout, just begging to be kissed. But it was also a little more than that. Seeing him step up to lead as they began Total Football, working as a team player while also getting in extra workouts to be the best he could be. You weren't blind. You could see his internal changes on the outside, somehow. He didn't seem as cold. He didn't seem as distant and prickish. Jamie’s change in demeanor changed how everyone saw him including himself.

And he seemed to look even hotter than he used to.

Was it possible for someone to just keep getting more and more attractive?

It was part of the reason he drove you up the wall. How did he so perfectly remain just a little bit of a prick while also being a better person? And why did he have to look so pretty while doing it? 

More and more people were making their way through the hallway as the dog track got ready for the match, and Jamie still stood in the middle, with an innocent, questioning look directed towards you.

You huffed before you grabbed his arm and shoved him into the treatment room. Even if he was acting oblivious to spectators, you didn’t want to put on a show when you once again ripped him a new one. 

His face was still prickish as you turned to look at him. He was clearly enjoying this much more than you were. 

“So you talk about me when I ain’t around, love?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I don’t,” you said firmly. “And don’t call me ‘love.’”

He pursed his lips, “Seems like you do… love.”

He smiled cheekily at you and it took everything in you not to roll your eyes at him. Instead, you crossed your arms and put on what you hoped was your most serious face.

“I talk about everybody,” you defended, but he clearly wasn’t listening.

“Hmmm, and what do you say about me?” Jamie scratched his chin to mock being in deep concentration. 

“Mostly, I tell people you’re a pain in my ass.”

The statement seemed to shock Jamie out of his act and he narrowed his eyes at you. You knew it wasn’t the best idea to have a sparring match with a footballer right before a game. They were pent up with nerves and adrenaline as they prepared. 

After a moment of no response, you expected the conversation to be over and began to move toward the door, when he finally spoke up.

“Bend over, I’ll show you a pain in the ass.”

Now you’re the one who’s speechless. You let out a breathless laugh of shock, before rolling your eyes. You continued on your way to the door, moving to leave him in the room alone. Just as you go past him, he playfully smacks your ass. Before you have a chance to even choose your reaction, you let out what can only be described as a whimper mixed with a moan. 

You whirl around to look at him, and you both seem to be shocked by the noise. You can tell your face is burning with embarrassment as you stare at each other in a momentary state of shock. 

He recovers first, letting out a breath of a laugh. A smirk dances across his face.

“Liked that, did you?” he taunted.

You clearly didn’t recover as quickly, your reply coming out weaker than you’d like. “Shut up, Tartt.”

He stepped a little closer to you, and you stepped back instinctively, before you ran into the table set up next to the door. 

“I liked hearin’ it,” he said, his voice coming out like a rough whisper.

It all happened so fast. One moment you were barely processing how close the two of you were. Making direct eye contact, breathing the same air. In the next moment, you had spun around, shoving your own pants down around your knees as you heard him unzipping his jeans. He gripped your waist as he spanked you again, and you didn’t even try to suppress the moan that left your lips. 

He slid his dick in easily, and you were surprised at how wet you’d become from simply arguing with the man. He held you against his chest as he thrust into you, pressing a messy kiss to your neck, sucking slightly. Part of you was worried about him leaving a mark, but the thought was pushed to the back of your mind as he continued his journey along your neck. He raised your knee higher to rest against the table for a better position, and you groaned in unison as he thrust deeper inside you. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, leaning against him.

“You wanted this real bad, huh, angel?” he asked.

You nearly wept at the pet name. You made a noise of protest, but your voice came out near breathless from the intensity of it all. You felt like your knees would buckle from the sensation, so you gripped the table in an attempt to not fall.

“Fuck you— you wanted it more,” you defended, but just as you spoke, he hit deep inside you and left the end of your sentence turning to mush as you moaned.

The table wasn’t enough to grab onto, so you reached back and started to grip the strands of his hair. He groaned directly into your ear, and you felt your knees nearly give out entirely.

“Damn, you look so pretty with my name on your back and my dick inside you,” he mumbled as he ran his hand up to grip at your throat. The action wasn’t gentle, but the pressure was perfect.

You’d almost forgotten you were wearing his name across the back of your jersey. Of course he would think it was hot.

It surprised you when you realized you found it kind of hot too.

“Don’t get used to it,” you warned, “This isn’t happening again.”

Your harsh words felt like they had no meaning as you bucked against him. His own hips rose up to meet your own. Truth be told, you were getting your shit rocked and were already wondering when you could fuck him again. You felt your brain short circuiting. Your breaths were shallow as he moved his hand up to your mouth.

You bit his hand out of frustration, making him hiss and thrust his hips faster. He shoved his fingers into your mouth and you sucked instinctively, causing him to whine. 

“Jamie,” you gasped around his fingers, “I-I’m close.”

“Me too, love,” he panted in reply. You didn’t have it in you to correct him over the pet name, overcome with the sensations coursing through your body. 

He removed his fingers from your mouth and snaked his hand down your body to find your clit, adding extra pressure. He knows just the right way to move his fingers that has you falling apart in mere moments.

When you come, he turns your head to plant a wet, sloppy kiss on your lips as you both find your release. You find yourself kissing him back intensely, chasing his lips once he finally pulls away.

Your knees are weak at this point, fully leaning against him for support once he finally slips out of you and pulls his jeans back up. Before he has a chance to say anything between breaths, you reach for a towel off the shelves above you and clean yourself off.

You’re still out of breath as you finally look over at him. His face is shiny with sweat and you fear you look the same. You’ll have to stop by the restroom before you meet back up with Laney. 

Laney. 

The thought of your friend has you glancing at the clock on the wall, cursing yourself. Everything starts to come into clear view, and you wonder how you let things go this far. You just fucked Jamie Tartt. How the hell did that just happen?

You press your lips in a firm line. You try to keep your hands from visibly shaking.

“This is never happening again,” you tell him again, as you reach for the door handle to exit. 

As you open the door, Jamie scoffs.

“Sure, love,” he says, sauntering through the door that you opened, “I’ll see you after the match.” 

He leaves you with a wink before heading off to get ready for the match. If you thought he would be unbearable about the jersey, you had just made the entire situation so much worse. 

You weren’t sure how long you stood in the treatment room before you finally left as well.

[chukys-mouthguard]

https://www.tumblr.com/chukys-mouthguard/759794706557304832/i-just-want-to-kiss-jamies-jawline-and-give-him?source=share

this is actually so cute I beg of u to write more jamie blurbs 🥺🥺

thank you anon, here is some more Jamie for you 🫶🏼

-

As you’d opened the door to your townhome, the smell of burning immediately caught you off guard. Your heart racing as you were terrified you’d left a candle burning and something had caught on fire. Tossing your bag by the door you followed the path of the smell which led you to the kitchen.

“Well shit.”

Jamie’s voice full of disappointment as he set a pan onto the stovetop. A sigh fell from his lips as he hadn’t even noticed you come inside.

“Jamie.”

He slightly jumped at the sound of your voice, a hand clutching to his chest as he looked at you, a slight smile on his lips as he’d hated the fact your coming home scared him nine times out of ten.

“Shit, when the hell am I going to not get scared by you coming home?”

“It’s been months babe, I would say the odds aren’t in your favor. Now, what’s burning and giving me a heart attack that the house is on fire?”

He awkwardly looked to the pan of food behind him, adjusting his stance to shield your eyes from seeing it. Scratching his head as he tried to ignore the fact he just obliterated a sheet pan meal that should have been easy for someone culinarily challenged. But clearly he was still very much a rookie in the kitchen.

“I um, I was trying to surprise you with dinner. And I looked up easy sheet pan recipes, clearly not easy enough. I burned it all.”

You could see the look of disappointment on his face as he moved for you to see the damage. A slight frown on your lips as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him and peppering his lips with kisses.

“It’s okay, don’t be discouraged. You tried! And I so appreciate that! But, we definitely can’t eat this, it’s practically charcoal at this point. And unfortunately, I am starving.”

He nodded his head as he looked from you to the pan of blackened veggies.

“Well you know, I’ve never fucked up a to go order from that Thai restaurant down the street.”

[f4iry-bell]

BIRTHDAY CHALLENGE

pairing: jameson hawthorne x avery grambs

type: blurb

warning: mention of fake death

tagging: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77

a/n: happy birthday to my pookie wookie patootie bear 🙈💞(this is kinda sucky but wtv)

masterlist

“Do I wanna know why you dressed me up as a caveman? I mean, you could have just asked if you wanted to see me shirtless.” Jameson asked Avery with a teasing smirk.

Avery rolled her eyes. “You’re not completely shirtless.” it's true.

“I still feel very exposed. But you're matching my outfit, so no complaints.” he added. “But I must add, Heiress. Are we really going to my birthday party like this? I know we don't have a lot of friends and the ones we have are equally as bad as we are but you know?” he asked.

“Just go to Great Room, okay? You'll understand the whole theme later.” She said,

_

Avery did not accompany him to Great Room. Once he entered the room, it was dark and he could see people's faces from the fake fire that was burning at the end of a stake they were holding. He saw 9 lights exactly, he expected a 10 feet tall cake but this is intriguing. 

Jameson approached Xander and asked. “What is this?” 

Xander spoke in utter gibberish.

“Xan, what?”

Gibberish again. He turned to Grayson. “I suppose you too will speak this unknown language?”  He asked.

“I should but I'm your translator.” Grayson replied.

“So?”

“He said, ‘Welcome to the Grand Cave of Mysterious deaths.’” Grayson said.

Jameson looked around and saw that the Great Room is somewhat designed to look like a cave and he was only standing in the front of the room, he saw the wall—or what he thought was a wall was close, which is impossible given the size of the Great Room.

“Mysterious death, huh? And who is dying? Let me guess, me?” He joked.

“We don't know. It's a mystery, Jamie.”

Jameson was about to speak suddenly everyone's fake fire burnt out and it was pitch dark. He could see nothing, he let his ears hear anything to observe. But suddenly everything came to light, the first thing he noticed was that Great Room was now a cave with a lot of ways. And the next was nobody was standing, everyone was laying down, and he also saw the love of his life laying down.

Slowly everyone started getting up except Avery, he frowned.

“What is this?”

“A mysterious death.” Nash replied. “One of us killed Avery or something in this cave killed her, you have to figure out who. If you win then you get to your next stage of celebration, if you fail…well Avery didn't think of it because she was sure you'll figure this out.”

“Oh, this is fun. A murder mystery to solve on my birthday, I love my girlfriend.”

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eleven

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hiiiiii, it's been a while:) Sorry, had a lot going on tbh very hectic and stressy but I had most of this written out before life got all messy and so I just tried my best to finish it! Hope you all had a happy holidays, whether you celebrated anything or just had a lovely few days, also wishing you a very happy new year!! Here's hoping it'll be a good one x Alsooo, a big thank you to @procrastinatinglikeapro who's an utter angel and without this part wouldn't have been finished!<3

Onto part eleven I suppose!

Masterlist

It’d been too long a day, though it had only just gone eleven. So Matty had decided to take a well earned break that no one else seemed to be fully aware of. He’d left George and Adam to themselves, the pair caught up in a heated discussion about a particular opening to a new song they’d been working on, and Ross was off in the booth playing something or other just to escape the rest of them. He’d had a late one the night before and was feeling the effects of it, poor prat.

Matty reckoned that he probably had a good while before Jamie strolled in though, or before George started getting aggy about the current chord progression, so he’d taken to one of the far corners of the studio to slink into the small sofa there and pull out his phone.

Messages now Squeaks I’m meant to be prepping for recording!! Stop distracting me.

Matty grinned to himself at the most recent text he’d received. They’d been at it since six this morning, but he’d yet to grow tired and so was already typing one back. 

Messages now Ditto babe So it would seem that you are the one now distracting me

He shook his head at the next reply that came through, but had to agree with her point; Adi seemed a whole lot scarier than the three twats he’d been burdened with. Even so, he couldn’t let her know that, could he? Or have the last word either. It was a matter of principle now.

See, it’d been a few weeks since that night at the club and the morning after in the quietness that was her flat- a place that still swarmed his thoughts during moments of the day when he felt his mind drift. He’d been so caught up in the moment back then, in her and in being allowed that close, that he hadn’t paid much mind to everything else. Too focused on watching, observing the way she behaved in a place so full of comfort. He only wished now that he had nosed around a bit more, her bedroom hadn’t given much away and neither had her kitchen, but those had been the only two places he’d been able to linger.

Still, afterwards he thought that the whole situation might’ve stirred things up for them, what with her dickhead of a mate and his waking up in her bed. Because most girls either fell arse over tit wanting to get into his trousers, or rather a chance in the spotlight, whilst others ran headfirst through the nearest fire exit door. 

Mouse though, she was something else.

She kept him at arm's length, that was for sure. Made it clear she had boundaries, even if she was open to a bit of harmless flirting here and there. But he’d just put that down to her being more mature than most of the women he’d met. She was also dead set on them just being mates, and he could do that, really, he could. He had tons of female friends, ‘cause why not, right? So he knew he could hold back. He could.

Saying that though, Squeaks hadn’t just stuck around for a short time to live within the confines of his fame-covered umbrella and, honest to God, it was refreshing just how much she didn’t seem to mind the headlines nor the fans that came along with him. She loved his music, yeah, she’d made that part known- or at least their older stuff, bit mean- but that was it. She asked for nothing but his company. 

And even then, that had been all down to him. He had sought her out. Not the other way around. So he was always wondering over it, over why and over her.

Usually, people like that were hard to come by these days, or were simply playing the long game. He’d seen it happen plenty times before, not just with himself, but with his parents too, and other people within the industry. It didn’t feel that way with her though. It was why he’d been so reluctant to share her anymore than he already had, ie. Jamie and now Danny too, he supposed. Although the latter hadn’t really asked much after her since their night out, on the low now that he feared Jamie was after his head. Matty couldn’t muster up any sympathy. 

And during the last few weeks, he had practically forced his way into her life even further. Too scared that if he didn’t, if he relaxed, that she would just play it safe and walk away, and he wouldn’t have that. So, they’d gone from texting at all hours of the day to phoning most nights now that he had a set routine in London for a short while. And sometimes, if he was lucky, they would facetime and he’d feel his heartbeat pick up at the sight of her tired smile.

It was nice. 

New.

Made him feel like a kid again, in truth. As though someone liked him just for being himself. His pushy, egotistical maybe, but simple self.

She’d probably rib him to bits if she could hear him now, all soppy like. But even so, he couldn’t find it in himself to take any of it back.

“Oi, loverboy! Gonna tell us what new model’s got you grinnin’ like that then?”

Matty’s head snapped up at the familiar lilt of George’s teasing voice, who was still seated in the cushy chair he’d long ago claimed but had since turned in to glance over at him.

“Nothing like that, dickhead.” And at George’s disbelieving hum, Matty rolled his eyes and tacked on, “Believe what you like, man. You finished sorting that section or not?”

George mimicked the action, though with less of his usual irritated flare, and cocked his head in the direction of his laptop. “Just about. Only gotta tune shit up now.” Then he glanced back at him, leaning in the chair with his hands linked across his front, “So are you going to finally tell us what’s had you so distracted lately? Feels like every time I see you you're glued to your phone. Not back on Twitter, are you?”

Matty glared at the mention of the app, because yes he was, but who the fuck was George to judge him for it? So he lied.

“No,” He scoffed just as his phone buzzed once more in his hand, it really was a great fucking struggle for him not to just go ahead and quickly check it. “Just scrolling. Why don’t you mind your business, egghead?”

It was a cheap shot, but all the questions had left him flustered. He was only fucking human, yeah?

“Ah, leave him be! It’s nice not to have him in my ear constantly.” Hann, the backstabbing twat, laughed and shot Matty an amused smile, as though that would lessen the blow. Matty rolled his eyes once more.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we get back to work now?”

George’s eyebrows rose a tad but he blew out a long breath and simply shrugged, “Whatever. Just let us know if it’s anything serious.”

Matty withheld the petulant urge to get all huffy with the lot of them and instead shoved his phone into his back pocket so that he could grab the neck of his guitar and not succumb to the overwhelming urge to have a peek.

Fucking overbearing glibs. Always wanting in on everything. 

Though he supposed he couldn’t blame them, not really, seeing as he’d kept them on the outskirts of his life for so long now. Always keeping secrets, that it was practically now his trade. But well, a drug addiction would do that, and it wasn’t like he could go back and alter things. 

This was a real change of pace for him, sure, but after all the crap that had come with the past year, Matty guessed that this couldn’t be easy for any of them either. It was definitely a shift.

He’d leave it. For now, at least. They could let him have this.

“Nah, nah, go and play that again.” Matty spoke up once he’d made his way back on over, listening to the loop Hann had just hit play on, “Who put that shit in? Sounds fucking awful!” And in turn, received a notebook to the head.

***

“... So yeah, Ads ended up putting the fire extinguisher to good use- our first go of it, too!” I felt the need to tack on, grinning at the very reminder of it as I filled up a pot to boil. “There was a crap ton of foam everywhere-”

“Language!” The woman admonished me from down the phone and I rolled my eyes around a faint chuckle.

“I’m twenty-three, mam! You can't scold me anymore and besides, I could have said a lot worse than crap, you know?”

She still tutted, displeased, “And what if Teddy were to hear? You wish for him to be spouting that the next time he’s at garderie?”

Shaking my head in amusement, I flicked on the hob and turned to pick the phone back up. “Nursery’s probably already heard it all.” I snorted, remembering the most recent mishap made by Teddy’s friend, Issie, when she had sworn in front of the entire school last assembly. “Anyway, he’s not even here! He’s been hypnotised by the tele.”

“I don’t think I will ever understand the charm behind that invention. It rots brains, ma mie!”

“Eh, so they claim.” I retorted with a meagre shrug whilst shuffling across the kitchen floor to find the pasta I'd left on the other counter, “But all it’s doing right now is keeping him out from under my feet whilst I make a start on tea.”

Even through the phone I could feel her exasperation.

“Et encore,” The woman stressed and I smiled mostly to myself as I propped my phone up against the wall again so that I could measure and still see her. She seemed to let the subject go though, because her next question was, “What are you making anyway?”

I told her and whilst I allowed her to direct me (and berate my cooking skills- even though I was her best student! As well as her only, I supposed) I prattled on about the rest of my day spent at the studio and then down at the shops after having picked up Teds from school. The little weirdo had tried to lure a pigeon in after us and failed helplessly. 

So it wasn’t too long before she finally interrupted my ramblings, in fact I’d almost finished with the sauce I was mixing.

“You’ve been glowing lately.” I heard her say and I grinned around the finger I had popped in my mouth, having just tasted the creamy béchamel.

“I am?”

She hummed quietly whilst I chanced a glance over at her, “Hm, it’s new, nice.”

I snorted, unsure on how to take that. “Thanks?”

My mum merely rolled her eyes mirthfully, a small smile flickering at the corners of her mouth, “Have you thought about Noël much more?”

Pursing my lips, I leant forward to check on the still boiling pasta- not long now, I deemed. “I dunno if we can make it, mam. Last time we took the boat out Teds was ill for days after and I don’t want him spending Christmas like that, especially seeing as I have to be here up until the twenty-third, the second if I keep praying!”

“Okay.”

I paused instantly and rocked back on my heels to frown at her, having expected more of an argument. “Okay? What do you mean, okay? Do you not want me home or something?”

Mam just shook her head, chuckling quietly, and I felt the crease between my brows deepen. “Non! It just means that the plane ticket I bought won’t go to waste.”

Blinking, I spluttered out, “Hang on, plane ticket?? Since when do you fly!”

“Since I realised that nearly a whole year has passed since I last saw my family! Too long, mon cœur.” She shot straight back at me and I felt myself chuckle softly at her, feeling my heart swell enough to override the evident guilt that stirred.

“I’m sorry, maman. I didn’t mean for it to be so long, just…”

“Life, mon cher, life carries on and it keeps us busy. You most of all, with your show and the baby.” She consoled, her face so full of warmth.

“Hardly a baby now.” I felt the urge to mumble but she simply waved me off.

“As well as this new glow of yours!” She added, confusing me enough to laugh a little and question what she meant. “Don’t play me for a fool, chéri, I raised you! There is someone, isn’t there?”

“Someone?” I quipped right back, very much bewildered by this whole new conversation we were now having. “What are you getting at?”

She clucked her tongue at me, as though she thought I was just playing at being dense, and so I watched on as she lifted her eyes towards the ceiling. “Someone new! A mystery man, peut être?”

I gawped, spluttered, and then shook my head, “No, non! Far from! God, can’t a girl just glow? I’m just happy, maman!”

“Ah, so I am right! You’re blushing.”

“Am not!”

My mum merely laughed at my petulance in return. “You are, Souris! It’s nothing to be ashamed of, if you don’t want to tell me more then I will leave it, for now. It looks good on you though.”

“Maman.” I groaned, “You couldn’t be more wrong about this.”

“I know my own child, crois-moi.” Was all that she replied, shrugging simply whilst I stood frozen in my kitchen hundreds of miles away from her. I knew she wouldn’t budge though. “But I want to know more soon! Maybe when I visit.” She proposed.

My eyes widened and it took everything in me not to pester her any further on what the hell she’d meant by it all. Seeing someone? I mean, she was out of her mind. I hadn’t spared even a glance at anyone in that way since, well since Teddy! And she knew this.

“Now, you should probably do something about that pot, amour. It’s bubbling over.”

That was all I needed to force myself back into the present and I swore up a storm as I rushed over to save the pasta on the stove. 

–

“Did you see it? Did you see it? Did you see it?”

I reeled back at the sudden presence of an overwhelming Adi, who had shot up to greet me at the studio door as I walked in, curls bouncing every which way. I laughed, more than a little surprised by the intrusion as I attempted to step around her and get further inside. It didn’t work as well as I hoped though, seeing how she scuttled after me like a baby duckling who’d just learned to walk.

“Christ, Ads! At least lemme put my shit down.” I told her, all but skidding around the settee to throw my bag onto it. “Only just about managed to escape a Teddy Tantrum on the way in.”

Even with the mention of the almost meltdown from the monster that was my toddler she still powered on, bouncing on the balls of her feet, phone clutched tightly in the hand she held close to her chest. “But did you see it!” She pestered me, the stress and excitement of the situation evident in the pitch of her voice.

Looking at her, I knew I just had to put her out of her misery. “Yes, I saw it.” I smiled slyly, shaking my head fondly whilst I moved over towards the kitchenette. “Brew?” I wondered aloud and she shot me the most scathing look.

“Forget tea! There’s no time for tea! Are we doing it, or not?!” Adi immediately fired back, eyes now as wide as dinner plates.

I tried so hard to keep my growing grin from view, messing with the cups atop the fridge, but she was nothing if not adamant.

“Mouse!”

Breaking, I laughed at her and glanced over to where she stood an arms length away, practically ready to explode. “Why wouldn’t we be?” I asked and her mouth dropped open at the insinuation of my words and the hope she’d been attempting to hide blossomed into pure elation. 

“You’re serious? You’re not just messing with me? Because I will strangle you right here, right now!”

My eyebrows rose, but I was still grinning away. “I go down fighting, babe.”

“Don’t I know it- still have the scar from when we wrestled over who got to say the first hello to Bono!”

I grinned proudly but did remind her, “And I still have nightmares about your teeth buried in my left thigh.”

“Oi, that healed!”

I snorted, “And? The trauma didn’t.”

Adi rolled her eyes and then smiled over at me. “I can’t believe you’re actually agreeing to do this.” She breathed, watching me ever so closely now.

I shrugged, feeling a little sheepish but mostly just trying not to think about the circumstances of it all. “It’s for charity- and besides, they asked. I couldn’t say no, could I?”

A crease formed between her dark knitted brows, “You could. I know I’m excited and all but, if you’re not comfortable with it…” She trailed off and I hated seeing her all mopey and concerned, it rivalled Teddy’s best set of puppy-dog eyes. An art he’d mastered since before he’d been able to sit up on his own.

“I know.” I assured her kindly as I propped myself up against the counter, “I want to do it though, Ads. It’s for a good cause and whatnot. Plus, I’ll have you there with me and it’s not like we’ll be in front of any cameras.”

“Maybe not you, but I'm soaking it all up, babe!” Adi immediately retorted and she flicked her hair over her shoulder for dramatic effect, “A face like this was made to be seen.”

I smirked and continued with the task I’d set of refilling the kettle, “And who would I be if I denied the world that chance?”

“Exactly.” She said, then chuckled, moving across the floor to shoot two tea bags into the mugs I’d gathered. “Now, all we need to do is work out what to wear.”

“And what questions to ask! They said they’re still unsure on the lineup this year. What with it being all new and whatnot.” I mentioned, having been thinking on that specific issue since the ask had come through the previous afternoon. 

It wasn’t a huge gala type event, nothing like the Met or the Brits, but it was going to be a big showcase in the leadup to Christmas. Something that was going to help provide a lot to those who were going without this year. From what I’d gathered, there would be variety acts, musical performances, comedians, dancers and the like, and it was meant to be broadcasted across the entire country. So, to say this was a big deal for us. A radio show I’d started in my bedroom! Was a massive understatement.

“I mean, an actual red carpet, Mouse!” Adi finally squealed, letting loose all the obvious excitement she’d been holding in. “Come on, even you’ve got to be looking forward to that!”

I nudged her hip slightly as I went for the milk, silently rebuking that comment, but she just laughed in turn. “I am, to be fair. It’s going to be a whole lot different from what we’re used to though.”

Adi merely flashed me a bright eyed grin, “Exactly why we need to dress to the nines, babe! Gotta show these haughty celebs that we can roll with the likes of them.”

I cackled when she did and then shook my head, extra careful not to go spilling any of the hot tea we’d brewed as we made our way back over towards the settee. This was definitely going to be one for the books.

***

“You got all that?”

The others all gave their own variation of a confirmation to their stressy manager whilst Matty’s attention deferred, eyes jumping ever so quickly from one thing to another.

“Matty mate, you hearing me?”

A barge shook him in his stance and he turned towards Jamie and the rest of the guys with raised brows before he huffed.

“Yeah, yeah- album, smiles, don’t be a fuckhead.” He listed off, already glancing away.

Ross snorted over Jamie’s head, who in turn rolled his eyes at Matty’s blatant tone. “Don’t fuck this one up, it’ll be good for your image, alright?”

“We won’t.” Hann promised him with that gentle smile of his just as George clapped the older man’s shoulder, “Try not to have a heart attack before we make it to the end, man.”

“I’ll be fucking lucky.” Matty heard Jamie mutter under his breath just before they were herded off towards the start of the carpet where a shit ton of fans and a horde of cameras waited.

“You doing alright though?”

Matty hummed at the quiet question, dipping his chin ever so slightly. He was alright. It just felt different, being at something like this stone cold sober. It had been too long, in truth. Actually, he’d begun to wonder if he’d ever not been on something since they’d first shot up to fame and been forced to attend shit like this. He lingered on that very thought even as he replied.

“Fine, just thinking over the opening.” He clasped his hands before him to keep himself from fidgeting any more than he had been. He was always fucking doing it, drove people crazy, or so he’d been told.

“You’ll ace it.” Ross whispered to him around a conspiratorial grin, squeezing Matty’s upper arm once before they were all called into the onslaught by an usher. “Show time, boys!” He added and with it, Matty forced out a breath.

Stepping onto a carpet always felt like entering a whole other reality, whether it was a black tie event or something sweet and easy. There was just nowhere that you could possibly hide to escape the cameras or the shouts and cries of people vying for your attention. It was easy to follow their directions though, ‘Over here!’ or ‘To your left!’, but it was much harder to tune out the other shit that got thrown their way.

“Matty! Matty! How was rehab?” One shouted, “Are you lot breaking up then?” Went another. “George, where’s Charli? And the after party, what about the after party?”

Matty bared his teeth and grinned through it, knowing he’d only be making things more difficult for himself if he gave them any inclination that he’d heard, let alone a real reaction.

By the time they made it off the first half though, away from all the blinding lights and constant flashing, Matty didn’t even get a chance to regroup before he felt himself already being steered towards the next horde of press.

He dragged a helpless hand down his face, bracing himself as best he could, before dozens, if not more, interviewers came into view, all eager to get their questions in, maybe find a way to have someone slip up and earn themselves a column in some crappy rag or paper. 

Typically, he didn’t mind this part. Here he got to work his magic, charm and woo whoever it was standing behind the camera and then swiftly move on. It was everything he enjoyed in an interview; three, four questions max and then he was gone. Like smoke in the wind.

Matty smiled at the notion, then stepped up in between Hann and Ross to greet the first bloke who’d reached out for them.

Somehow he managed to persevere on through and make it nearer to the end. Normally it was there that they could evade most of the microphones stuck their way and make a swift exit into the awaiting building. But just as Matty opened his mouth to suggest it to the others, his eyes caught on something in the corner, or rather someone.

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, it’s been a bit mental. But it’s over now though, mate.” Matty heard one of the others say in response to him as they clapped his shoulder heartily, but they obviously hadn’t realised that he hadn’t been moaning about the whole ordeal, not even moaning at all actually. No, he’d just been fucking shocked to the core and all but rooted to the red carpet in surprise and that was all the words that he could let escape.

Before he could think to correct them, or let them know, he somehow managed to unstick his feet and start hurrying in a whole other direction. They called out when they noticed but he paid them no mind, flicking at his blazer sleeves and then wiping his hands discreetly to get rid of that clammy sheen they always managed to create whenever he was on edge.

Because how could he not be? When Mouse was standing there at the very skirtings of the crowd, just behind a staged barrier. Her of all people. And Matty couldn’t quite manage to tear his gaze away. Sights set as he bulldozed on through people to get closer and closer. 

She looked incredible. There was no denying that. Different to whatever he’d gone and made up in his head- something to do with a romantic dinner and them being all dressed up- but beautiful nonetheless. He found it difficult not to wonder over how no one else seemed to be lured towards her, how nobody else had gone over and asked why she was standing on that side of the barrier and not with the rest of this sorry lot on the carpet. Because-

Fuck, she was just stunning in that getup. Wasn't she? All red and pretty. Cheeks matching the sleek colour of her dress, smile unapologetic and wide. It was honestly so fucking hard to chance a blink let alone look away, worried she might not be there at all if he did.

She was talking with someone though, who had their back to him, eyes flickering up every now and again to check on the celebs heading their way. Actually, it was just as she did so once more that those eyes of hers spotted him through the small crowd near the edge, making her stutter in her stance and blink as though he was a mirage.

Matty grinned, unable to do much else, except manage a hurried jog the rest of the way, just needing to be near, to talk to her.

“The hell are you doing here?” Were the first words to spill from her painted lips, causing his grin to slip on into a full-on beam. 

God, she sounded so startled, so sweet. He realised then that he’d actually missed her voice- and it’d only been a day since they’d last phoned. A short thing, before she had gone and fallen asleep to his senseless prattling, leaving him to watch her for a minute, or sixteen, before he’d finally hung up.

“Me! How about you?” Matty immediately countered, shaking his head at her cheek, “You never mentioned it.”

She smiled brightly, mouth moving but unable to form any real words, before she was swiftly interrupted, “You never mentioned it?!”

Her head snapped over towards the voice’s owner as did Matty’s, and he was rather bewildered to see Adi stood there, looking lovely in a white ensemble.

“She never mentioned it??”

He blinked at Adi’s almost screech, realising then that the girl had been speaking to him, and so he nodded hurriedly in answer, still grinning away at the eccentrics. “No, she fucking didn’t! So imagine my surprise, hey?”

“You cow!” Adi tutted, elbowing Mouse who looked a tad affronted by it all. “How could you not tell him?”

“I didn’t tell anyone!” She immediately countered, rubbing at her arm, “And anyway, I didn’t know he’d be here! Why are you here?” She looked at him then, eyes narrowed and nose wrinkled in angry confusion.

Matty couldn’t stop the soft snort that escaped him whilst she merely rolled her eyes in turn.

“Fine- stupid question. But you never mentioned it either!” Was her semi-sort-of-valid retort. He hadn’t mentioned it by name, he could admit that, just that he’d be busy tonight doing crappy promo shit.

“I did!” He argued anyway, because he couldn’t not with her.

“Did not!”

“Oh, and what have we wandered into here then?” Came George’s familiar lilt just as the rest of the band’s steady presence followed behind him, “Not starting catfights already, are you?”

Matty thinned his lips into an exaggerated smile when he turned to look up at him, “Hilarious. No, as it turns out I do have mates outside of you lot.”

George feigned a look of scandal then snapped his gaze over towards where Ross and Hann were standing, “You hear that? He’s gone and made friends all on his own!” Then, being the condescending prick that he was, he reached out to ruffle Matty’s previously styled hair.

Matty was quick to smack his arm away, huffing at the thought of what storm would now surely follow when their stylist finally caught a glimpse at the pictures of him looking a state. “She’ll kill me, you dick.”

Knowing just who he was referring to, George barked out an uncaring laugh. “Oh give over, you’ll survive.” Then he appeared to remember what had brought them over in the first place, looking away he asked, “And who might you be?”

Matty’s eyes instantly tracked Mouse, who got all flustered at having everyone’s attention suddenly on her. Her cheeks flushed further and her eyes skirted everywhere but them before they finally found his, he tried to flash her an apologetic smile. Thankfully, Adi was able to save her before Matty could think of a way out of this whole shitshow.

“Adeline Wells,” She was quick to introduce, heavy gaze flitting over George’s tall form before trailing back to the two stood behind them, “We’re from Mouse On A Mic.”

Hann appeared to blink in recognition, a flash of surprise donning his usually stoic features, but it was Ross that replied, “The radio show that rinsed Matty?”

“That was you?” George piped up, eyebrows reaching his hairline as he stared down at Adi.

“No actually, that would be me.” Mouse felt the need to clear up with a strained smile, lifting her hand as though her admission hadn’t captured all of their attention. 

George’s face wrinkled further and so Matty was hasty in his move to slip in between them, closing the distance between him and Mouse so that now only the sodding barrier separated them.

“And isn’t she just lovely?” He intervened with a grin, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and settling there even though the harsh metal prodded into his hip unforgivingly. 

George frowned in confusion whilst Hann smiled politely, dipping his head in a silent hello to both of the women. Ross on the other hand was a whole other story, he just started laughing.

“Oh shit!” He called out, hand falling to the top of his stomach whilst his mouth and eyes widened in amusement, “This is her, isn’t it?”

Matty’s own eyes grew as he shot Ross a warning look, feeling Mouse tense a tad beneath him.

Adi was having none of it though, eager to know more. “What about her?” She pivoted on a sleek heel to stare the pair of them down, eyes narrowed enough to instil a bit of fear into Matty himself.

Ross raised his hands up in a way that intended he’d meant no harm by the comment, “Nothing! Well, nothing bad at least.”

Adi raised a carved brow in retort whilst Mouse just turned to glance up at him, he humoured the thought of pretending not to notice it but couldn’t bring himself to even try.

“What’s he mean? I thought we moved past all that.” She murmured to him, looking so small under him now that he fought to wave all her worries away.

“No, no we did. Ross is just being a pillock, babe. In’t that right, Ross?” Matty’s words were pointed and direct enough that when the twat looked back over at him he saw the urgent look that headed a warning. 

Ross, though, simply rolled his eyes. “Nah, I just meant, you must be the model.”

Matty swore he was slowly losing it, was he being serious?

Meanwhile it seemed that both girls had taken to just blanching at the massive muppet. “Sorry?”

George tutted, shaking his head as he finally righted himself, and put on a charming smile, “Ignore him, that one’s on me.” He admitted and was quick to continue further when his words showed no signs of reassurance, “I figured Matty had to have been speaking to someone, seeing as he’s nonstop on his phone.”

“Well, er- no, no model, just me.” Mouse replied almost sheepishly, then chuckled faintly, “Or maybe there is a model and he’s just not mentioned it.” She teased, earning a few laughs.

“As if.” Matty rolled his eyes, squeezing her arm as he somehow managed to tug her in even closer.

“And oi! You’re ten times fitter than any model Ned Flanders here could pull.” Adi said, putting her two cents in.

Mouse merely rolled her eyes, obviously used to her mate’s brashness, and Matty found himself agreeing with Adi before-

“Hang on, Ned Flanders? Bit harsh, ain’t it?”

It was either Ross or George that snorted, could’ve been Hann too actually, but Matty was too preoccupied in his bemusement to steal a glance away from a very obviously smirking Adi. 

“Nah, she’s pretty spot on there, mate.”

“No one asked.” Matty sniped back before pointing over at the girl. But before he could get another word in edgeways, Mouse was there, patting his chest softly.

“Ah, it’s alright. Could’ve been worse actually.” She smiled at him, tittering ever so slightly that he didn’t feel too disheartened by it, “And besides, Flanders was fit! Had abs and everything hidden under that jumper of his.” Mouse tried to comfort him, though it was immediately spat on by Ross’s next sentence.

“Not gonna find that here, love.”

He was just shy enough to escape Matty’s swiping hand, jumping away with a gleeful grin to hide behind Adam. The coward.

Matty didn’t find much sincerity in the rest of them as he turned to glance them over, the guys all snickering to themselves, whilst Adi gave Ross an appraising look accompanied by a mirthful grin. 

He was only soothed by the action Mouse had made, having hidden her face in his shoulder. He was so transfixed on it that he practically forgot that the rest of them were even still there, especially when she lifted her face up to flash him a happy smile.

“Abs are overrated anyway.” She whispered to him, her chin propped up on the jut of his collarbone.

His eyes danced between hers and he found himself smiling stupidly in return. It was then though, that they were interrupted, “So come on! Ask us a question then!”

Matty watched her blink and then look away, whilst he only wanted to rewind and stay there a moment longer. Instead, he found himself swallowing around the lump in his throat and following her move.

“Yeah, go on!” He heard himself say and was almost regretful when Mouse stepped away to switch their camera on, feeling the wind more forcefully now that she wasn’t shielding his side. But then she was grinning again, eyes twinkling as she peered over at him, quirking her head to direct him further into the frame.

“Alright rockstar, this had best be better than our last interview.”

And Matty could only grin as he shouldered in closer to the rest of the lads, his eyes never once leaving hers.

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter 13 I The Man

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football prodigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Chapter Summary: Reader is given an award. Jamie is supportive

Word Count: 5.2K

Warning: Some sexism hehehe

A/N: Plot plot plot! But there's some of my favorite jamie x reader moments in this one. Next is Amsterdam!!!!

Prologue One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve

I woke up alone. Now this was something I was used to at this point. Ever since Jamie had started doing his early morning runs with Roy, we hadn’t been spending as many nights together. Not that I liked it, but it was something I was getting used to.

My alarm went off at 6:00, as per usual. I did some yoga, showered, then was brushing my teeth when I got an unexpected text from Rebecca. It read:

            Please come to my office when you get in today.

Hm. That was an unusual text to get from your boss at 7:30 in the morning. I racked my brain trying to think of something I’d done to get a talking to. Yeah, it hadn’t been a great month for us, but it wasn’t anything I’d particularly done.

I finished up with my skin care and decided to head into work early to get whatever this was over with. I arrived at the club not much later, waving at the caretaker as I walked in. The walk up the stairs to Rebecca’s office felt excruciating.

But when I arrived there, it wasn’t just her. I opened the door and there was Higgins, Keeley, and Ted sitting in front of her desk.

            “Good morning, guys,” I entered approaching the group. “I didn’t know it was a party.”

            “(Y/N)!” They all greeted in unison.

            “Ah, that wasn’t creepy at all!” I laughed, trying not to show my nerves.

Rebecca motioned to a third seat. “Please, take a seat.”

I took off my backpack as I sat, holding it in front of me. “I’m not getting fired, am I? Oh my god, you’re firing me?”

            “What? Oh heavens, no!” Rebecca dismissed, shaking her hands. “Why on earth would you think that.”

            “Well, its all of you here, and I just walked in and thought it, I don’t know!” I shook my head. “If you’re not firing me, what are you doing?”

They all exchanged looks excitement filling their eyes.

            “Oooo go on! Tell her!” Keeley insisted, clapping her hands.

            “Tell me what?”

            “The anticipation is killing me!” Higgins chimed in.

            “What anticipation?”

            “She doesn’t even know what’s about to hit her!” Ted added.

            “Please just tell me what’s going on before I kill someone!” I was practically shaking at his point.

            “Oh, alright,” Rebecca addressed me finally. “(Y/N), the league is honoring you with Coach of the Month!” 

The group all cheered as I took in the information.

            “We have a press conference this afternoon,” Keeley told me. “We’ll brief you on everything you’ll need to do but we are just so excited for you!”

            “Couldn’t be happier for you,” Ted smiled. “You’re part of what makes this team great!”

            “Of course, she is! I hired her!” Rebecca hummed proudly. “I always knew you’d be great.”

I frowned. This wasn’t right. None of this was right.  They kept talking at me about what was going to happen. An interview, a photoshoot, a magazine cover but all it sounded like I was underwater. I had to get out of this room.

I stood up, grabbing my bag and leaving without so much as a word. I hurried down the stairs and outside into the car park. Why was I so upset? Why couldn’t part of me just be happy about this? I heard the door open behind me and I knew one of them had followed me.

            “Look, now I know emotions are a subjective thing, but I don’t know usually there’s at least a smile when you get a cool award.” Ah Ted. Just the person I didn’t want to see right now.

I shook my head. “Please, Ted. I don’t want to do this right now.”

            “Now, I’m confused. What exactly aren’t we doing?” Ted asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

            “This!” I shouted, pointing between him and me. “You giving me some anecdote about how I’m good enough and how I earned this because you and I both know that isn’t true.”

Ted furrowed his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

            “I know why Rebecca hired you.” The statement hung in the air. The truth behind the whole operation at Richmond. The secret I’d overheard in the coach’s office at the end of Ted’s first season with us. “And it’s the same reason she hired me.” Ted paused, nodding his head. I couldn’t help but let out an ironic laugh at the situation. “We both know that I was hired because she thought it would make us lose.”

Rebecca, so overcome with her hatred of Rupert, hired Ted and Beard and I because she thought it would make the worst coaching team. We would drive the team into the ground ruining Rupert’s favorite team. This was something I tried to ignore but since finding out it seem to legitimize some of people shouted at me on the internet and what Max had said to me before I left. I wasn’t meant to be here. I wasn’t saving the league. I was just a girl pretending to know what I was doing.

            “Now, (Y/N), I don’t know what you think you heard but-“

            “Please cut the bullshit, Ted,” I snapped, cutting him off. “I’ve worked really hard to get past it, but I don’t deserve an award when I’ve done nothing to earn it.”

Ted’s mustache twitched. “You’re right. Rebecca hired both of us to make some point to Rupert. That is true. But something else that’s true is that you’ve consistently proved her wrong at every turn.” I opened my mouth to say something, but Ted held up his hand. “Now, you might not see it, but Beard and I and even Roy, we all depend on you to keep this whole thing afloat.”

I let out a breath and wipe at my lips as I stare at him. I certainly hadn’t been feeling like that recently. Since the West Ham match, we’d been on a losing streak, and I’d been so in my head about all of it that I couldn’t do my job.  

            “I just…” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what I’m doing here anymore Ted. And this Coach of the Month is just another bullshit excuse for me to know that I’m not meant to be here.”

All I could hear in my head was the sound of my failed dreams and Max’s taunts and the paper missing the bin over and over and over again.

            “Hey (Y/N),” Ted’s voice appeared much closer than I thought he would be. “Do you remember that puzzle metaphor I told you about?” I scrunched my face up, nodding my head. “Well, that metaphor has a lot of different meanings. Maybe you should try to put it together again.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Can’t you just tell me what you mean for once, Ted?”

            “I mean,” He chuckled at my frustration. “You’re stuck in a rut, yeah? So, instead of trying to put the puzzle back together the same way over and over again… maybe you were putting it together the wrong way. Maybe you need to… try something new. And maybe…” He nudged me, forcing me to look over at him. “Maybe you should let someone help you put that puzzle together.”

I still didn’t get it. Well not fully. But I think I understood the gist of it. The funny thing was as we were staring at each other, Roy and Jamie came running up. Jamie smiled at Ted and I coming to run in circles around us.

            “Mornin’ Coaches,” He smiled, starting to run in place.

            “Tartt! You’re not done yet! Get to the training room and start lifting.” Roy followed up; a bit slower.

Jamie groaned loudly. “I ain’t even stopped or nuthin’. I were just sayin’ hi.”

            “Go!” Roy barked, pointing towards the door.

Jamie rolled his eyes dramatically before shooting Ted and I a wink. Roy shook his head as Jamie made his way inside, seemingly off to the training room.

            “Mornin’ Roy, good training with Jamie?” Ted asked Roy.

            “As good as it can be,” Roy grunted. “What are you two doin’ out here?”

Ted looked over at me, motioning for me to tell him. I shook my head at him, grunting that I wouldn’t. Ted hummed back that I absolutely would and that we wouldn’t leave until I said it. I let out a huff.

            “The leagues giving me some bullshit title of Coach of the Month that doesn’t actually mean anything but they’re making a big deal out of it,” I informed Roy finally.

He grunted is a way that sounded vaguely positive. “Good for you.”

            “Fuck off.”

            “Alright.”

The day was filled with Keeley throwing me through the PR wringer. What to expect, what to say, what not to say. I wasn’t super excited about it, but Ted’s words were rolling around in my head. I hated puzzles. I’d never liked them. I thought I’d figured out Jamie’s puzzle but now there was another puzzle. When would it end.

            “Okay, the most important bit is the press brief we have this afternoon. They’ll bring in you and some of the lads to talk about you as a coach,” Keeley told me, writing down some notes.

            “What will they be asking?” I questioned, trying to look over her shoulder.

            “Oi don’t be looking over my shoulder,” she reprimanded, shouldering me away. I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. “They’ll ask you probably your normal annoying questions about being a woman, but also about the team and such.”

I grumbled. “I didn’t hear them asking Pep what it was like being bald why do I have to talk about being a woman.”

            “That’s because no one cares what it’s like being bald,” Keeley pointed out, giggling. “Being a woman is actually interesting.”

            “Is it really?” I rolled my eyes. “So, uh… what guys will be coming to talk about me?”

Keeley hummed as she flipped her notebook shut. “I dunno, I was gonna ask to see who wanted to later. Do you have anyone in mind?”

Yeah. Yeah, I did. “No, I don’t want to force anyone to do it.”

            “Sure. And Ted is gonna introduce you, of course.”

            “And this is all happening tomorrow?” I pushed out of my chair. I’d already waisted the whole day, I at least wanted to get to the end of training.

            “Yup!” Keeley smiled at me. “Don’t stress, you’re gonna be great.”

I shot her a sarcastic smile. “Oh yeah, I’m gonna love it. It’s gonna be amazing.”

…

Later that night, I was resting in Jamie’s lap. I felt goosebumps spreading over my body as Jamie’s hand stroked my stomach lazily. On the TV, an episode of New Girl that I’d seen hundreds of times played but I wasn’t really paying attention.

            “Jamie…” He hummed, letting me know he was listening. “Did they tell you about this… Coach of the Month thing?”

His face broke out into a smile as he looked down at me. “Yeah, it’s great, innit? So, fucking proud of you.” He tightened his grip around my waist, shaking me proudly.

I found myself blushing at his praise. Even though I thought it was kind of stupid, Jamie being proud of me was affecting my happiness a little too much.

            “Yeah… I guess… I don’t know what I think about it,” I admitted, rolling so I was looking up at him. He cocked his head, motioning me to continue. “I guess, I just don’t know if it’s because I’m a good coach or if it’s because I’m a woman or whatever.”

Jamie scrunched up his face pursing his lips in confusion. “What… why would they do that?

            “I don’t know to make themselves look better?” I sighed, lifting myself off his lap and leaning forward. I ran a hand through my hair. “I just… I’m not sure I’m ready to go out in front of all those people and talk about myself.”

Jamie leaned forward so his shoulder was touching mine, stretching his neck so he could try and rest it on my shoulder.

            “What are you doing?” I asked, looking over at him.

            “’m trying to comfort you, you daft idiot,” he explained, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder.

            “You’re acting like a cat,” I crowed, trying to push him off of me. But he wrapped his arm around mine arm pulling me into him, rubbing his cheek all over my shoulder and neck. “Stop!”

He grabbed my legs and pulled them up into his lap, pulling me so I was sitting on him.

            “Look, whatever happens tomorrow, just know that me,” he pressed his cheek into mine. “And the rest of the lads know how amazing you are. Not just as a coach but as a person. But especially as a coach.”

I giggled, pressing back into him. “What about you Jamie? How are you feeling about playing Man City this week?’

He shrugged. “My stats level up against Man City. They’ve played well this year but we’ve got the ability to win.”

            “No, Jamie… I mean,” I turned around, so I was facing him, my legs now straddling his waist. “How do you feel, like you.”

He frowned, his nose scrunching up in a way that was far too cute for one man. “I feel… uh… I feel fine.”

I reached up and rubbed the space between his eyes. “I don’t think you do babes, you’re gonna give yourself wrinkles.”

He rolled his eyes, leaning his neck back. His neck was so exposed, it was so tempting to just… lean forward and kiss his Adam’s apple. I looked up and decided to play a little bit. I leaned forward and kissed him, right on the bottom of his neck where the skin sunk in a little bit. He hummed, the vibrations tickling my mouth.

            “Jamie, baby,” I murmured, kissing up his neck, finally finding his Adam’s apple. He groaned in response. “C’mon, I want you to talk to me.”

            “Can’t talk when you’re kissing me like that,” he croaked, his voice deep and gravely. So, I stopped, pulling away from him completely. “Hey! Wait!”

I started to slide off of him, but he wrapped his hands around my waist and yanked me closer to him. He buried his head in my neck kissing me furiously. I shrieked grabbing onto his hair to tug him back.

            “Jamie, if you talk to me I’ll give you the best blow job of your life,” you waggled your eyebrows at him.

He whined, cracking his neck back and forth before slouching back. “I feel… fine. I guess. Haven’t heard from me dad in a while. It’s not like… I’m afraid he’s gonna be there but not knowing is worse.” I nodded at him, rubbing his collarbones. “But fuckin’ Zava’s probably gonna take the attention anyways.”

I gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, it’s okay to be worried about your dad but… we’re at home. We’re on your turf. He doesn’t even need to be allowed in if you don’t want.”

            “I’m not gonna ban me dad,” Jamie grumbled. “I just… want to know.”

I nodded again. I gave him a satisfied smile before pulling him down into me to make good on my promise.

He wanted to stay over that night, but I insisted that I wanted to maintain my regular routine for the next day. But laying in my bed that night, staring up at the fan, I wished he was there with me.

I arrived at the club early. Like 6:30am early. The groundskeeper had barely arrived by the time I got there. But I was nervous. I’d been able to avoid press conferences, manage photo events and stay in my lane for the most part but today it was all on me. And why was I wasting a day doing this when we had out Man City game this weekend, I’ll never know.

            “Oh, my god, how long have you been here?” Keeley asked, handing me a coffee as she walked into the press room.

            “Since 6:30, I couldn’t sleep,” I told her accepting the drink gratefully.

Keeley clicked her tongue at me soothingly. “It’s gonna be alright, you’ve got this. I just want you to be yourself up there, yeah? We’re starting with the photo shoot first today, the press conference will be this afternoon, when the boys are free.”

And that came faster than I expected. After a long day of cameras and poking and prodding I was left staring at the door of the press room. I could practically hear it, the flashing of the cameras, I could feel it, the stares of the journalists waiting for me to slip up, waiting for their next scoop. Ted was in there right now, talking me up. I picked at my thumbs, trying to steady my breath but I was struggling to find it. I felt like my head was buzzing, and that my heart was moving at a thousand beats per second. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to drown out the now blinding florescent lights.

Suddenly arms were wrapping around me, holding me so tight. “Hey, it’s okay, I got you.”

Jamie. I immediately latched onto him. I didn’t care if we were in public, I didn’t care if someone from the press room got a peak at this, all I cared about was Jamie’s steady heartbeat helping me regain my control.

            “There you go,” He murmured, lips brushing against my temple. “Just breath, love.” I did as he instructed, finally finding the control of my breathing. I let myself blink my eyes open and look up at Jamie. He smiled at me, brushing some of the hair out of my face. “There she is.”

            “Hi, Jamie,” I squeaked at him, resting my chin on his chest.

            “You know it’s kinda nice seeing you be the needy one for once,” he said to you.

I gaped at him, scoffing. “Don’t say that, I’m having a panic attack and you’re gloating?”

            “I gotta take it where I can find it,” He chuckled. Then he leaned down and kissed my temple, his lips lingering there. “You’re gonna be amazing in there.”

            “What if I’m not… what they want?” I croaked. “What if I mess up or do something stupid.”

            “It would be right funny if you did that!” You gasped and hit his chest. “Hey! That hurt. I’m just sayin that you could become a meme.”

            “Jamie!”

            “Alright, alright, jus’ there’s no way they won’t want you cause… I mean you’re everything there is to want,” Jamie noted, as if it was easy, as if it was simple.

I felt that breathless feeling again but this time it wasn’t because of panic, it was because of Jamie. I smiled with my lips tucked, looking between his eyes before reaching up and kissing him. He kissed me tenderly, softly. In a way that made me hum in contentment. I probably would have stayed like that if it weren’t for the next intrusion.

            “Oi!” Roy’s voice made us jump apart. “If the two of you want to keep this a secret, then you better stop kissing in the fucking hallway.” He growled as he marched towards us. “Tartt, go get changed you’re gotta be in there in 5 minutes.”

I looked over at Jamie surprised. “You’re coming to talk about me?”

            “Obviously?” He stated, rolling his eyes. “Even if we weren’t dating, you’d still be my best friend.” I just about melted at that one.

            “Uuuuuugggggghhhhhhhhh,” Roy groaned loudly, grabbing Jamie by the arm and starting to drag him down the hallway. “Good luck, (Y/N).”

I laughed, covering my face as I watched them go. Then the door to the press room opened and Keeley poke her head out.

            “You ready, babes?”

I watched Jamie disappear into the locker room and I felt that tell-tale flutter in my chest. I felt okay. I was going to be okay.

            “Yeah, let’s do it.”

She pulled me into the room as Ted was finishing up his speech.

            “(Y/N) (L/N) has overcome incredible odds. And she has done it with a smile. So, without further ado, it is my honor to present you with (Y/N) (L/N)!”

I walked up on the stage to scattered applause. I waved hesitantly sitting down in front of the microphone. As I did, they all flooded the stage putting up their own recording devices. My eyes darted around the room at the different reporters until they landed on the back of the room where Rebecca, Higgins, Trent, and Keeley stood. I nodded at them, glad to have some friendly faces in the room.  

            “Uh… hi! I’m (Y/N) (L/N)…” I started, looking around to focus on someone. How did Ted do this? “I’m happy to be chosen as the Premier League’s Coach of the Month. Uh… does anyone have any questions?’ Immediately the room exploded as all their hands raised up. “Um okay you, in the front row.”

            “Hi Ms. (Y/N)-“

            “It’s Coach (L/N).”

            “As a woman, what do you think the league can do to work on intersectionality across the teams?”

I furrowed my eyes brows. “That question doesn’t even make sense.”  

Again, the hands raised, everyone calling out my name. I pointed to someone in the back.

            “Coach, do you think being a woman has enhanced your ability to coach men or made it more difficult to understand the difficulties of being men in sports?”

            “That’s like two questions shoved into one and the answer is no.”

            “Coach (L/N), when you applied for the job here at Richmond did you do it to prove a point?”

            “What? That’s not-“

            “Where do you think the feature of the league is in terms of gender equality?”

This was going about as well as I thought it was going to be. I let out a frustrated sigh as they continued to shout questions at me. In the back of the room a door opened and in walked Colin, Sam, and Jamie. Colin waved at me, crossing his arms at his space in the back. I looked across the back of the room, at Ted and Keeley, Colin and Sam, and Jamie. The people in my life that made this possible. That made me possible.

            “Okay, okay, everyone listen up,” I announced, hitting my hand on the table. The room went quiet. I shot Keeley an apologetic glance before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I didn’t take this job because I wanted to make some big statement about feminism or gender inequality or intersectionality. I took the job because I wanted to play football for money, just like any of the lads on the team.”

“And if you really cared about gender equality, you’d be talking to the many female coaches that coach the women’s league. Or the many female players? Why don’t we talk about the wage inequality when the women win more games? That’s what you should be asking me about!”

I leaned back in my chair and looked around the room. The reporters were all silent until one, Marcus Adebayo, raised his hand.

            “Yeah, Marcus,” I called on him.

            “Coach (L/N), how do you feel about Richmond’s chances against Man City on this weekend?” He asked, pen at the ready.

I paused for a second, let out a huff. “Thank you, you know Man City has kept us down for a long time, but I think our chances look good.”

…

Our chances were not good. The game was bad play after bad play, the boys were just not at their best. You wanted to blame it on Zava, the bastard decided to retire without telling anyone and didn’t even show up to the game. It was depressing and everyone felt it.

            “Yeah… it was tough out there today,” I said to the reporter after the game.

            “You are Premiere League’s Coach of the Month; do you feel like there was something more you could have done to secure this win?” The reporter asked bluntly.

            “That’s somewhat of a redundant question. I’m an assistant coach. I do the best I can, but the boys are the ones who need to win, and they just didn’t have it today.” I replied, shrugging. “That’s all I have time for, sorry.”

I left the reporters with a small smile and started towards the locker room running a hand through my hair. This had been tough, and Keeley hadn’t been able to show up. Something about Shandy and a baby lamb and a lot of poop. I’m sure I’d hear about it more later.  But for now, I walked into the depressing atmosphere that was the locker room.

I looked around the room, the boys sat silently in their despair. Jamie sat on the floor in front of his cubby like he did when he was upset. I glanced over at Bead and Roy who gave me a pair of sad smiles back. I looked over at Zava’s empty cubbies and frowned. I hated Zava. To come here and bring these boys hope then abandon them without a word I’d never be able to forgive him for that.

            “Gentlemen, Hey,” Ted Emerged from the office. “That was a tought on tonight. Okay? Man City has still got our number. That… that’s all right.” The boys murmured a sad response. “We’re gonna get another crack at them later in the season. Uh-huh. Coach,” He addressed Beard. “No practice tomorrow yeah?”

            “That’s right”

            “Okay, well, I’ll see y’all on Monday,” Ted finished starting to turn around.

            “Hey, hey. Hey Coach!” Sam spoke up. “What about Zava? He quit the team.”

I looked back over at Ted, wondering the same question myself. Ted sputtered a moment before answering. “Technically he retired from the whole sport, which does make it feel a little less personal, yeah? You know, like if, uh, your girlfriend runs off with some dude and it turns out they were soul mates.”

Again the boys grumbled a response, something about Gina Gershon was in the mix but it was mostly positive. I thought Ted might end it there, but he didn’t.

            “Look. I hear you, okay? Zava is gone. And You what? I think it’s a good thing.” I perked up, interested to see where he was going with this. “Well, I do! Okay, look. Do I wanna win? Heck yeah? But I also wanna do it with folks that wanna be here.” I nodded, agreeing with his sentiment. “It’s not like we could handcuff him to his locker and make him love us.”

            “We could have tried,” Dani cried from his spot. I could help but let out a chuckle, knowing that he really meant it.

            “Hey, guys, look,” Ted regained their attention. “We got a good thing going here. Alright? We didn’t need Zava. Yeah?” Ted looked over at Jamie who nodded. I felt my heart warm knowing Ted was using Jamie’s words to encourage the team. “All we need to win are the fellas in this room right now. And all you fellas need to do is believe it.”

Just as he spoke the believe sign behind him fell, the torn pieces revealing themselves. The boys all starting clamoring shouting in fear.

            “It’s a sign!” Bumbercatch shouted.

            “That’s it. We’re doomed,” Colin agreed.

In the moment it was hard to disagree with them. Things hadn’t been great recently. And this just felt like the final nail in the coffin.

            “Hey, knock it off, okay? We’re not doomed. No one is doomed,” Ted putting his hands up to calm everyone. “But, Bumbercatch, yes, you’re right. It is a sign. I agree.” He took down the two pieces and ripped them in half. I felt myself reaching out to stop him, not even knowing I was doing it, but surprisingly, Jamie’s hand on my leg stopped me. I looked down at him and he nodded towards Ted. “Belief doesn’t just happen cause you hang something up on a wall. Alright? It comes from in here.” He pointed at his chest. “And up here,” at his head, “ and down here.” At his stomach.

“Only problem is, we all got so much junk floating through us, a lot of time we end up getting in our own way. You crap like envy, or fear, or shame.” I swallowed hard, biting my lip. I knew he was right, I’d been letting my fear and shame of who I was get in the way of my happiness. Of my abilities as a coach. “I don’t wanna mess around with that shit anymore. Do you?”

We all shook our heads, some of the lads responding with a ‘no’, or a ‘no, coach’

“No, me neither. Hell no.  Well, you know what I wanna mess around with? The belief that I matter, you know? Regardless of what I do or don’t achieve. Or the belief that we all deserbe to be loved. Whether we’ve been hurt or maybe we’ve hurt somebody else.”

“Or what about the belief of hope? Yeah? That’s what I wanna mess with. Believing that things can get better. That I can get better. That we will get better. Oh, man. To believe in yourself. To believe in one another. Man, that’s… that’s fundamental to being alive. And look. If you can do that, if each of you can truly do that…” He ripped the sign in half again. “Can’t nobody rip that apart.”

With that he walked over to the middle divider and slapped the ripped-up sign down on top of it.

“See y’all, Monday?”

The whole team responded with a ‘Yes, Coach’ before turning back to their cubbies to get ready to leave. But I stayed there. Staring at the broken sign. I wanted to believe. I needed to believe. And this team, these people, they helped me believe. Come what may, this whole room had my back.

…

I was still thinking about it as I arrived home that night. I didn’t expect Jamie to come over, it’d been a long day and he was waking up early still to do extra training. So, when he knocked on my door, I was surprised.

            “Jamie? What are you doing here.” I asked him, pulling him inside.

            “I wanna tell people about us,” He answered quickly. My eyes widened. “I know why you’ve been wanting to keep it a secret and I get that; I do. But… what Ted said today I just… I believe in us. I believe in you making me a better person and I don’t… I don’t want to hide that anymore.”

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. I didn’t know if I was ready yet for the whole world to know. For ours to become theirs. I loved Jamie, I really did but what if it changed too much. Or worse, what if people tore us apart. Luckily Jamie continued speaking before I could answer.

            “You don’t have to decide right now. I just wanted to put it out there.” He nodded at me before leaning down and kissing my cheek. “Alright, I’m gonna go now.”

And he was out the door.

Fuck.

Tag List: Taglist:@heletsmelovehim @higherthanheroes @ajax-petropolus-wife @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @kno-way-home @sleepy-time @wigglegiggle @skewedcherries @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog @snubug @rana030 @ems-alexandra @jaymum @sokkigarden

[animationnut]

Halloween Fanfic

Happy Halloween! Here’s a list of my Halloween-themed fics on Ao3, if you want to check them out between booping and candy snacking.

My White Knight (Star vs the Forces of Evil)

It's Star's first Halloween, and thanks to Marco she knows that humans only dress as monsters on Earth's spookiest day of the year. But sometimes there are humans who look average, but are monstrous on the inside. Thankfully she has her White Knight to save her from all kinds of monsters, human or otherwise.

Scare Tactics (Gravity Falls)

Ford and Stan take every opportunity to scare the twins in the week leading up to Summerween. Dipper and Mabel, the Kings of Halloween, will not be defeated. They concoct a plan to truly frighten their great-uncles, with some outside help. It's all in the spirit of Summerween.

Three Spiderlings in a Haunted House (Into the Spider-verse)

The only way to spend October 30th is to go to a haunted house, but Miles, Gwen and Peni really should have told the Spiders where they were going. It's a night of frights for everybody, and a near heart attack for some.

Among the Corn(maze) (Phineas and Ferb)

It's October thirtieth, and Phineas and the gang are spending the night before Halloween at a corn maze. It's only a matter of time before they get split up, and Buford can't resist the opportunity to pull a small prank. Tis the spooky season, after all.

Spookin’ Lancer (Danny Phantom)

A little Halloween tale where Danny, Tucker and Sam try to scare Lancer the day before Halloween. But Lancer isn't easily frightened by juvenile pranks, and in their efforts to scare him out of his wits, lines are crossed.

All Hallows Eve (Sofia the First)

Unable to disregard the village tradition of trick or treating on All Hallow's Eve, Sofia chooses to miss the royal costume ball in favour of her childhood traditions. With no one in her family able to take her Sofia happily drags Cedric along for a night of Hallow's Eve fun.

Runt of the Pack — Chapter 10 (X-Men Evolution)

Jamie’s trick or treating takes a bit of a sour turn when some delinquents set a nearby property on fire. Logan did tell him to stay in the car, but what kind of X-Man is he if he doesn’t help?

Devil’s Night (Lilo and Stitch)

Lilo's preparations for a wicked Halloween are interrupted by a run-in with Mertle and her girls. Deeming themselves too old for trick-or-treating, the group of thirteen-year-olds arm themselves with eggs, shaving cream and toilet paper. Mertle issues a challenge to Lilo--join them for Devil's Night, unless she's scared.

Forever Family, Forever Vongola — Chapter 24, Chapter 42, Chapter 43, Chapter 55 (Katekyo Hitman Reborn)

Halloween plus the Vongola family equals chaos.

[caexanadt]

Dead Air - Chapter One - Nova

“Subject: Welcome to Radiant Records! Let’s Build Something Epic!

Hey Nova,

Congrats — we’ve been vibing hard with your solo stuff, and we want you on board with Radiant Records! Your sound? Totally electric. Your energy? Next-level.

Here’s the deal: We want to help you build a band that can match that fire. Think: a crew that’s as tight and dynamic as your music — people you click with, who bring their own flavor but share your vision.

We know assembling the right band can be tricky, but don’t sweat it. We’ll back you every step of the way — from auditions to studio sessions. This is about creating something fresh, authentic, and loud enough to shake the scene.

Ready to make some noise together? Hit us back, and let’s get this show started.

Catch you soon, Casey Flinn A&R Coordinator, Radiant Records.”

Nova blinked and read the email again. What? This was wild. She must be still drunk from her pity party with Jamie, after convincing herself that no labels would ever sign her and she would be forever stuck as the struggling artist. Before she could spiral into doubt, her phone started loudly blaring the ringtone she’d assigned to Harper. 

Before Nova could speak, Harper’s calm but excited voice came through.

“Good Morning freshly-signed Superstar!”.

 Nova laughed, still in disbelief that today was real. “Uh, yeah.. Morning? Is it real?”

“100%! They’ve been watching you kill it solo! Its time to level it up. They want to build a band with you!”.

 There was a beat of silence on the line before Harper’s voice nudged,

“Hello? Nova? You still there?”

“Yes Harper, I- I’m still here. Build a band? Are you serious?! I don’t click with anyone!”

“That’s the fun- and the challenge.  It’s not about finding perfect musicians. It’s about finding people who get you. Chemistry over skill, every time.”

Nova took a deep breath, thinking it over. She didn’t know anyone who didn’t sing — just people she’d met at gigs, all aspiring singers. Finding a full band? That was going to be tough.

“Okay. Okay, before I chicken out. When do we start?”

“That’s the spirit! I have auditions lined up for this afternoon and the rest of the week!”

“Thanks Harper, Text me the details?” Nova ended the call and read the email again. 

“Guess it was real”.

_____

Nova found herself an hour later, sat in a musty room that smelled faintly of old cables and nervous sweat, waiting for the auditions to start. Her coffee had long gone cold beside her, untouched, forgotten. She was hunched over a battered notepad — the one Harper had handed her on the way in, all casual like "just in case inspiration hits."

Apparently, it had. Or something close to it.

Lyrics bled out in messy loops and scratched-out lines. Half a verse here, a fragmented chorus there. Her handwriting slanted harder when she was anxious — and right now, the whole page was at a damn 45-degree angle.

The quiet buzz of fluorescent lights overhead did nothing to calm her. Every now and then, a sound tech passed through the hallway, or someone coughed behind a nearby door, and she’d glance up like she was being caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to.

She sighed, tapping her pen against the side of the pad, eyes darting to the clock. Almost time. Strangers were about to walk through that door. People who could become her band… or people she’d awkwardly avoid eye contact with forever.

“Please let someone decent show up,” she muttered, then shook her head. “No. Let someone right show up.”

There was a difference.

After what felt like forever, Harper strolled into the space like she owned it — a nervous red-headed boy trailing behind her, clutching a guitar like it might bite him.

“Uh—hi. I’m Wes. Big fan. Of you, I mean! Not me!”

He stopped short, cheeks already turning pink. Lanky and tall, he had the look of someone who tripped over air and apologized to furniture.

Nova raised a brow, amusement flashing across her face. “Hi, Wes. I’m Nova.” She nodded toward the guitar in his hands. “That your weapon of choice?”

Wes blinked, then looked down at the instrument like he’d forgotten it was there. “What? Oh! Yeah, totally.”

He smiled — wide, genuine, the kind of smile that could disarm a crowd if he ever let it grow into confidence.

Harper stepped forward, clapping her hands once. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Wes.”

Wes fiddled nervously with the amp knobs, the soundboard, his guitar strap — everything but his nerves. A sudden screech of feedback rang through the room.

Nova and Harper both winced in sync.

“Sorry! Sorry—got it,” Wes muttered, cheeks redder than his hair as he twisted a final dial into place.

Nova gave him a soft smile, trying to ease the tension. “Play whatever you want.”

He nodded, closing his eyes as he strummed a few chords to test the sound. A moment later, he launched into a piece — something mellow, almost wistful, with clean transitions and steady rhythm.

He was good. Really good.

But as Nova listened, her smile faded just a little. It was technically strong — polished even — but there was something missing. That raw edge. That gut-punch feeling. The je ne sais quoi she was hoping would slam into her chest and say this is it.

When he finished, the final chord hanging in the air, Nova clapped politely, exchanging a look with Harper that said: close… but not quite.

“Thanks, Wes. We’ll be in touch. Harper rose, walking him out. 

Wes gave a sheepish smile, unplugging his guitar with a small nod. “Thanks for listening.”

“Thank you,” Nova said, still warm but already drifting into her thoughts as Harper escorted him out with a polite pat on the back.

___

Harper smirked, nudging Nova. “Remember when you tried to teach me guitar and I just invented a new way to hit all the wrong strings?”

Nova rolled her eyes but grinned. “Yeah, and you called it Harper’s special chord. I’m still traumatized.”

Harper laughed. “That’s why you’re the musician and I’m the hype crew.”

The door had momentarily shut behind him before it creaked open again — but this time, the energy shifted.

Boots thudded confidently into the space, and in walked a person with shaggy dark curls, silver rings on nearly every finger, and a hoodie half-zipped to reveal a band tee that had definitely seen some pits. They dragged a well-worn drum pad case behind them and gave the room a once-over like they were sizing it up for a fight.

Harper’s face lit up. “Nova, meet Knox Vale. Drummer. They use they/them pronouns.”

Knox dropped their case in the corner and popped the lid. “Hey,” they said simply, but there was a weight to it — like they didn’t need to say much to own the room.

Nova arched a brow, intrigued. “Got anything you wanna show us?”

Knox shrugged, cracking their knuckles. “Not much of a talker,” they said, pulling out sticks and settling into the practice kit set up in the corner. “But I’ll make noise.”

And they did.

From the first strike, it was clear they weren’t just keeping rhythm — they were commanding it. Each hit was crisp, each fill bold without being showy. The beats had this pulsing undercurrent of control-meets-chaos, and Nova felt her chest tightening in the best way — like something in her bones had been waiting for that sound.

Harper grinned knowingly at her.

Nova blinked, stunned, then nodded once, slowly. “Okay,” she said under her breath, almost to herself.

That was it. That was the spark. Noticing Nova’s silence, Harper spoke up.

“Thankyou, Knox. We’ll be in touch” Knox just nodded, walking towards the door. After the echoing bang of the door, Nova blinked, stunned, then nodded slowly. Her chest felt tight — in that good, electrifying way. Like Knox had just plugged into something inside her she hadn’t realized was waiting to be sparked. “Okay,” she whispered, almost to herself. Harper caught her eye and winked. “See? Told you the perfect weirdos are the ones to watch.”

___

AN: This is the first crack at a story I've come up with, please feel free to leave feedback and such!

[tomjamesavery]

Christmas preparations at the Potter's Written for the Ginnyversary Bingo Challenge with the prompt: #N35 — I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there. Read on: AO3

“Gin! They’ll be here any minute now!” Ginny heard Harry’s voice from downstairs as she was finishing packing up the last present. It was Christmas and soon the entire extended Weasley clan would show up at their doorstep. Ginny and Harry had been extremely busy over the last week, with both work and preparation for a hungry mob of red-haired family members, but they had decided to celebrate together this year, and Ginny was happy to see her family come together again.

She bound the last knot and quickly scribbled “Merry Christmas! Love, Ginny and Harry.” Onto the note that was attached to it, before she quickly put it where the rest of the presents were already lying, ready to be given out. With a spring in her step, she made her way downstairs into the kitchen where Harry was busy cooking up a storm. She stopped in the doorway observing her sweating Husband who was way too concentrated on his current task to notice her staring. “And, how is dinner coming along?” Ginny called out, a bit louder than necessary, as she watched in amusement how Harry almost dropped the pan he was handling. “Goodness Gin!-” he quickly put down the cooking equipment and leaned his back against the kitchen top. “-You almost gave me a heart attack.” He used the back of his right hand to brush the sweat off his forehand. Ginny only chuckled as she closed the distance and chastely pecked him on the lips. “I am sorry, I forgot how concentrated you get when you’re in the kitchen.” She brushed a loose strand of messy black hair out of his eyes as his hands came up her waist pulling her towards him. She was about to lean in for another deeper kiss when they were interrupted by a high-pitched voice coming from the living room.

“Mommy, Daddy! Jamie said Aunt Muriel would be coming too, is that true?”

Ginny sighed rolling her eyes as she watched her husband’s grin forming. She spun around and faced her second oldest son, who was looking at them with annoyance on his face.

“Al, I told you, Aunt Muriel will be there, it is just one evening, she’ll be gone by tomorrow!” Ginny tried but her son didn’t seem to care much how long Aunt Muriel would stay with them, the fact alone that she showed up, was enough for him.

“I don’t want her to come, she is not nice. I don’t like her. If she comes, I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I am not there.” He crossed his little arms in front of his chest and before Ginny or Harry could say anything else he stormed out of the room. Ginny meant to go after him, but Harry quickly took her hand. “Let me talk to him Gin, you already had to convince Jamie earlier that we couldn’t set the Christmas tree on fire to grill marshmallows on it after dinner, and that discussion alone must’ve been enough for a week.” Ginny only shot him a thankful smile before he quickly followed after Albus. She ogled his bum until he disappeared through the doorway, just as a knock sounded on the front door. It seemed like the evening had officially started.

[aces-to-apples]

Wait nope second try: hi! Hello! Can i ask for tedependent or royjamie with either: ❛ if you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up. ❜ or “Touch me there. Right there.” :3c

He isn't serious when he answers Jamie's call with, "If you called just to get off on my voice, I'm hanging up."

This dumb thing between them is new and weird but also old news and completely normal and Roy won't explain it any better than that. Can't, because he has no fucking clue how to.

Season's over; Ted's fucked off back to America; Keeley won't take either of them back because they're so fucking annoying. And the worst part of all of that was thinking that the obnoxious prick he spent years hating is both his best fucking friend and his, fucking, bisexual awakening or whatever won't want to be either of those things anymore after their fight over Keeley. Except he did, he does, and now they're doing whatever it is they're doing, fucking about, and that's how Roy answers the fucking phone at one in the morning. Like a prick.

Predictably, Jamie whines. "I didn't even say nothing! You didn't even say hi!"

"Hi," Roy deadpans as the final minutes of Bake-Off continue to play quietly on his TV. "If you called just to—"

"You're such an arsehole, I don't know why I even called you," Jamie grouses, and there's a bang like a heavy door swinging shut underneath his words.

"Don't know why you called me either," Roy says. "Thought you went out with the lads. Gave you permission to drink for it and everything."

Jamie sighs. "Yeah, dead nice of you, that," he says. "I dunno. I just—missed you. You should come out with us, next time."

Clicking through to the next episode, Roy rolls his eyes. "I'm not going out drinking with you menaces for a whole night. I have things to do," he lies.

"Liar," Jamie says immediately. "Phoebe's with her mum and I'm not there, am I? So you ain't got shit to do."

"Well then maybe you should have stayed in with me so I'd have something to do," Roy fires back.

There's an odd silence after that that makes Roy wince. He opens his mouth to apologize.

"Yeah, no, that's," Jamie says, cutting him off. "That sounds way better. Let's do that next time. S'way more fun. Hey, can we have sex yet, please?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

Jamie hums. "Mmmmthree...? Maybe four. I don't know."

"Well then we're definitely not having sex tonight, are we?" Roy scoffs and, miracle of miracles, Jamie makes an agreeable noise. Neither of them are interested in discussing why they haven't had sex yet, it seems, which is nice. "Maybe next time."

"Yeah!" Jamie cheers, loud enough that Roy has to pull his phone away from his ear. Then, "Oi, my ride's here, I gotta go. See you tomorrow?"

"Fine," Roy sighs, as if he's not looking forward to it. "Not at 4 a.m."

"Pshh, obviously! Right, 'night, love!"

Roy misses the entire signature challenge of the new episode thinking about that.

[autobot2001]

The Same Conversation

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: T Warning: Talk of poor mental health Pairing: Drift X Jamie (OC) Description: During a camping trip, Sideswipe starts the conversation about Jamie's mental struggle that the friends hate having since they can never figure out solutions to help her.

@juneofdoom day 17; struggle

On a camping trip on the beach, the five Autobot friends’ holoforms sit around the fire. It’s midnight and their two human friends, Jamie and Lily are asleep in separate tents. The five know the same conversation they have about Jamie ends with nothing but feeling anger, but they all want to talk about Jamie’s mental struggle. “Guys, I know the conversation is always the same, but I worry about Jamie,” Sideswipe says. “I know,” Lightning sighs, “she’s getting worse and there’s nothing we can do.” “At least without going too far causing Jamie to feel like a prisoner,” Drift sighs. He has more to say but understands it’s futile. The others know what Drift means. With Jamie’s desire to be dead, they shouldn’t leave her alone. It’s a challenge to get Jamie to eat and the friends hope to avoid having a G-tube put in. They worry about what would happen if the Decepticons attack. They all know depression can have periods of decline, but it’s been a year watching Jamie continue to get worse. The twins, Lily and Lightning, also know that Crosshairs and Drift have been struggling more mentally over the past year.  Crosshairs and Drift, tired of talking, join Jamie in the tent for sleep. The tents are ten feet away from the fire. The remaining three friends continue the conversation. “They really need to let us help them,” Sunstreaker says. “We’ve been trying to help, but they tell us no,” Sideswipe reminds his brother, “Lily is struggling to accept she needs to train more, that she’s not a soldier yet, and didn’t take getting injured well, but I feel like it’s not as much of an issue compared to what Jamie struggles with.” "While Lily is doing well mentally, Jamie has been struggling for a year. Jamie’s mental health has never been this concerning, according to Crosshairs and Drift. Let me handle the problem for Jamie’s benefit.” “You were told no. It’s not only because that’s murder and illegal,” Lightning points out. “That’s it then,” Sideswipe sighs, “we watch our three friends struggle with no idea how to help Jamie, which would help Crosshairs and Drift. Despite knowing how the conversation would unfold, it was important to have it. I’m going to bed.” Lightning and Sunstreaker watch Sideswipe go into the tent Lily is in. They’re not ready for bed, but the conversation stops.

[raitrolling]

Stop and Go

[Easy reading version on Toyhou.se]

(This drabble is the fourth episode of the Drive to Survive series, and takes place after @cloudbattrolls' Infernal Devices plot)

Sharle did not see the text for at least an hour, given that he had spent the first half of the evening training with Ropikk. 

Fresh off a handy fourth place win at Villeneuve Circuit, Sharle had been challenged by the jadeblood to a game of padel alongside Tira and his personal trainer, after the team returned to Revoire City. While Aeon Racing’s drivers have no need for team building sessions when their synergy is among the best on the grid, it was always a good idea to keep them engaged and make sure they were both receiving adequate physical training.

The two drivers won quite handily, in part because they were much better at working together compared to their personal trainers and in part thanks to Sharle’s unstoppable competitiveness. Once the blueblood is fired up, his energy is difficult to extinguish.

That is, until he was able to check his phone at the end of the match, after his teammate had already left for lunch. His eyebrows raised curiously at the sight of the notification. 

Velour doesn’t normally message him out of the blue, and he definitely did not have any upcoming modeling gigs that would warrant the cuspblood’s attention. 

Sharle swiped at the notification and unlocked his phone, then nearly dropped it when he read the message.

VV: Something’s happened to Jamie. Can you come over?

“Hey, Ropikk-”

Sharle paused, not expecting his voice to waver as much as it did. And neither did Ropikk, evidently, as she immediately shot him a concerned look.

“Huh, what’s wrong?” The jadeblood asked, striding up to him in fear that he might be about to announce an injury acquired during the session.

“It’s, er-” Sharle’s head was pounding, and he found himself somewhat short of breath. This can’t be just because of the padel game, a sport of that intensity does not leave him this filled with adrenaline. Anxiety? Something like that. “I got this text, and, er- I think I need to go. Now.”

But he didn’t move. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed.

Ropikk had never seen Sharle this nervous before in her life. Not before any race, not in the lead-up to any major interview, even that time she saw his major crash live on television four sweeps ago he had appeared courageous in the face of what could have ended his career for good. The multiple broken ribs had seemed like nothing, and yet something as simple as a text message was causing the falcon troll to unravel before her eyes.

She had a good feeling she knew what the text was about, but- Selfishly, she didn’t want to believe it. 

“Sharle… Tell me what happened. I’ll let you go and tell Mansel that we needed to cut the training short, but I need to give him an explanation, especially after the last stint at Revoire,” She spoke carefully yet still with a firm edge to it, as she knew that she still had to be his manager and not his peer. Trying to get too close would just make the truth hurt even more.

Sharle swallowed his nerves to the best of his ability. He knew Ropikk wasn’t going to like hearing the news, and he knew Jamie likely wouldn’t either. They’d agreed to keep their relationship a secret to only their closest friends, as the kookaburra troll was not interested in the spotlight of dating another celebrity. He wanted to honour his matesprit’s wishes and had tried his best to hide it when he needed to ask for time off for Quadrants’ Day a couple perigees ago, but this time Tira wasn’t around to back him up with another flimsy excuse.

Not that anyone would believe him if he came up with another excuse to dance around the question. Sharle was never a good liar, and his intentions were always clear as day. It was one of the reasons why Jamie had fallen for him in the first place.

“It’s…” Another breath, and Sharle gripped his phone a little tighter. “Velour. Well, er, Velour texted me, about Jamie. It seems like- It’s an emergency, I think.” 

“What sort of emergency?”

“He didn’t say, so, er, that means it’s bad, yeah? Like, a proper emergency?” 

Ropikk softened slightly, biting her lip as she averted her eyes. She could hear the fear in his voice and knew it was genuine. How much he cared for someone she wished he didn’t, for reasons she felt guilty for feeling. It was pure jealousy, that someone who rightfully called her out for indulging in silly little fantasies about her co-worker would be someone the troll she had a stupid crush on adored the most. And she knew it was more than just a close friendship, she’d seen the way Sharle looked whenever he talked about Jamie, and how Tira would needle him about things that implied he knew they were something more. 

“You like him a lot, don’t you?” She finally asked, a little hesitant.

Sharle paused, surprised by the question. He also looked away, suddenly a bit shy. He knew he’d been caught.

“Er, yeah,” The blueblood scratched at the back of his neck, and Ropikk could picture the soft smile on his face, had she asked him the question at a much more appropriate time. “He’s… Pretty important, yeah. Which is why, er…”

Ropikk shook her head, and finally managed a smile. Strangely, instead of feeling hurt, she felt like a weight had lifted off her shoulders.

“No, you go. I’ll tell Mansel it's for a personal reason. He might not be happy you’re running off again, but I’ll make sure he understands. It sounds like whatever it is, you need to be there right now, right?”

Sharle looked back up, the expression on his face clearly caught off-guard. She was taking it much better than he thought - Although he was unaware of her feelings towards him, he just knew she never seemed to like whenever he brought up Jamie. Then he nodded back.

“Yeah, thanks. The text was from an hour ago, so, er- I should get a move on.”

With his manager’s approval, he quickly gathered up the rest of his things and shoved them into his sports bag. Ordinarily, he would prefer to take a shower after a training session, but he didn’t have any time to spare. If it’s been over an hour, who knows what else could have happened in that time-

His rushing around was stopped by Ropikk gasping and then grabbing his arm. He turned to look back at her, and there was that trademark serious glare she always had whenever he had just committed a social faux pas.

“Wait, an hour ago? Sharle! Seriously? You better show up with a gift for him to apologise for being late, alright? There’s a florist downtown, and you know him better than I ever want to, give him something he’ll really appreciate!” 

Sharle blinked, and stared for a long moment… Only to crack up, feeling the tension and the anxiety start to ease. Ropikk relaxed slightly as well, once again feeling that wave of relief.

“Yeah, I will. Er, thanks for the reminder.”

[denimbex1986]

“Is this real?”

The connections to our past can be tenuous, where we lose grasp of even simple memories or they can tether us to them in a way that those foundational moments keep us from achieving any level of personal growth. How often do we get to revisit or relitigate our past and if given the chance, would we?

In Andrew Haigh’s electrifying new film, All of Us Strangers, we’re introduced to Adam (Andrew Scott), a late 40’s film and television writer living alone in a seemingly deserted high-rise on the outskirts of London. He’s working on a script about his working class parents set in the 1980s but can’t seem to get past INT. SUBURBAN HOME. He obsessively watches Top of the Pops, listens to Frankie Goes to Hollywood and attempts to conjure up inspiration by looking at old family photographs of him and parents, who both died in a car accident when Adam was 12. Loosely adapted from Taichi Yamada’s Japan-set 1987 novel, Haigh switches up gender, location and sexualities for his most ambitious film to date – a love story, a ghost story and a story of letting go.

During a fire alarm in his apartment complex, Adam spots a figure multiple floors up who has yet to come down and join the meager amount of people who populate the massive building. Soon enough the mysterious stranger appears at his door in the form of Harry (Paul Mescal), bottle of Japanese whisky in hand, making a very forward pass at Adam, who politely rebuffs the advances of the younger, attractive but slightly creepy stranger. Imagine saying no to Mescal? Couldn’t be me, but I digress.

The casting of Mescal, who is absolutely incredible here, is quite perfect and almost eerie. There is a sense, if you’re an adventurous viewer, that All of Us Strangers could be a bit of a spiritual sequel to last year’s Aftersun, featuring Mescal’s Oscar-nominated turn. There isn’t a literal connection between the films other than Mescal but it’s enough to imagine a cinematic universe where they are, especially for a metaphysical and metaphorical story like this.

And it is the metaphysical and metaphorical returning to his childhood home that gives Adam’s story its weight. His nostalgic thoughts of his dead parents begin to consume him and something shifts when he takes the train back to his hometown. Between the subtle cues of Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch’s reflective score and the hazy allure of cinematographer Jamie Ramsay’s 35mm lens, we’re ever so subtly taken back 30 years, where Adam’s parents (sublimely played by Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) haven’t aged since their death, with Adam now older than both of them. Their reunion is almost sheepishly cute at first. “Is that him?, Mum asks. “That’s him,” confirms Dad. But it’s also a reunion painted with challenges as Adam still needs to come out to both of his parents (in separate visits). First is Mum, who is as curious as she is disappointed. “It’s a sad life, isn’t it?” she laments and there will probably be several people who will hear those words and they will sting as hard now as they did before, a common refrain from parents at that time (my husband’s mother said this to him verbatim). Foy is exquisite here though, her teased perm and emerald green tracksuit speaking in a contemporary language for the time as much as her words do. When Adam asks his mother “Is this real?” she responds with “I don’t know. Does it feel real?” It does, it is, as Haigh doesn’t present anything in these interludes as supernatural or what we’ve come to expect from a ‘ghost story.’ It’s as real as anything and it both scares and pushes their honesty to unguarded places.

But it’s Adam’s conversation with his Dad that will open the water works (at least they did for me), as Adam details hiding in his room after being bullied at school all day. Dad never asked why and Adam never told why and for the same reason; “I probably would have been one of the ones who bullied you,” Dad says, confirming Adam’s feelings. But Dad, at least this version of him, is far more open and accepting, bringing Adam to tears and most definitely this viewer. As I watched this through saturated eyes, I wondered what I would say to my father, who died when I was 21. We had a very severed relationship and I never officially came out to him in any way (my mother would tell me much later that when I was 3-years old my father said to her “he walks like a faggot”) and if I could find some type of closure to an open wound that’s been there for as long as Adam’s. Do I even need it? I think one of the great powers of storytelling can be two-fold; it can certainly inspire you to do or say something in your real life but simply seeing it onscreen, feeling heard and understood, a vicarious experience can be a shockingly healing salve. My apologies to anyone who sat near me at the Herzog as I was inconsolable in my own moment of self-reflection and memory. It can’t be overstated that Bell and Scott are transcendent in this moment; we’ve associated Scott with his “hot priest” character from Fleabag and as Moriarty in the Benedict Cumberbatch-led Sherlock series, but his vulnerability in this scene is shattering. For Bell, we’ve literally watched him grow up on film, from Billy Elliot to now, playing a father doing his best to find connection with his son. It’s a quiet performance, not simply of restraint but one that allows Scott’s Adam to breathe.

Back in London, Harry returns and this time Adam is more malleable and invites him in. The two engage not in simple small talk but in the rooted fear of intimacy and love that was the 1980s, the era of AIDS and wondering if your next hook up or your next (or first, in some cases) would be your last. It’s one of Haigh’s keen powers, understanding the intricacies of interpersonal relationships whether it’s the rawness of HBO’s Looking, the guarded secrets in 45 Years or Strangers’ closest relative, Weekend. The two discuss using ‘gay’ or ‘queer’ to identify themselves and how the generations word use differs, with Adam definitely in the ‘gay’ camp and Harry remarking “queer is like all the dick-sucking is taken out.” The ice is broken at this point (thanks in part to The Housemartins’ “Build,”) melted, and their bodies do too. They quickly fall into a comfort of domesticity, the kind Adam never thought he’d have (“I’ve never been in love,” he admits at one point). A club scene later in the film, where Harry and Adam do ketamine, begins to break the fabric of what’s real and what isn’t as Blur’s “Death of the Party” rages on.

I called the film a ghost story earlier but I don’t want to give the wrong impression of what that means. It’s not a haunting, Adam’s parents aren’t locked between two worlds. It’s actually Adam that is; carrying the pain and trauma from childhood to adulthood and longing for a way to connect in the middle, to keep seeing his parents and also move forward. But “that’s not how this works,” says mum, and we know the final moments between them are near. And indeed, when the time does come and Dad and Mum offer Adam the affirmations that any child would want, but didn’t know they needed until much later, it’s a devastating master class of writing and performance from Scott, Bell and Foy. For many people who grow up gay, the lack of parental support can feel finite, the same as a physical death, an irrevocable separation. What Haigh has created is a portal of sorts, to reclaim our history, if not exactly rewrite it.

Earlier this year, Celine Song’s Past Lives introduced many of us to the Korean concept of ‘in-yun,’ that the people in our past, even if they’ve touched us briefly, have a permanent effect on our lives, on our connectivity. For Adam, his in-yun exists with the brief time he had with his parents, with his flourishing relationship with Harry and what his relationship to himself will be. Despite all of this emotion, as draining as it is cathartic, the film’s breathtaking finale is not something I’ll likely ever forget. Like 45 Years, Haigh knows how to close a film and the final shot of All of Us Strangers will be a part of me forever. Haigh has created a timeless masterpiece and the best film of the year.

Grade: A'