inbloomwriting

[inbloomwriting]

Hi friends,

I want to start working on chapter 4 of “Everything to me” however I have a few ideas and I’m not sure where I want to take it next so I wanted to get you all involved in the decision of where we go from here.

The outcome of this doesn’t necessarily guarantee this will be in chapter 4 I just want to get a feel of what you want to read next and see if you have any specific wishes. I might also include more than one. ALSO I want to write all of these plot points at some point so just because it doesn’t make chapter 4, doesn’t mean it’s completely off the table.

Thanks to everyone who gives me their opinion and to each and every one who reads my story.

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 3

Chapter three - Raspberry

Chapter 1 II Chapter 2

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Sorry it took so long to update this. I tagged everyone who showed interest in future parts and/or asked to be tagged. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock. It’s a new discovery for (Y/N) as she tries to unravel herself from his tight grip. She doesn’t remember falling asleep cuddled up to each other, in fact, she doesn’t remember falling asleep at all. It’s like one moment they were talking about the baby and the next she wakes up to the sun pouring in through the window and Jamie’s quiet snores filling the room. And his arms wrapped around her like a vice. 

God that man is clingy. 

And, whereas with any other man, this would scare her off, there is something about Jamie that makes the whole thing endearing.

Maybe it’s the fact that they are not dating, not even trying to. It takes some of the pressure off. All she has to be is a good mum and a good friend and while those two things are hard enough as they are, at least there are no romantic feelings involved, no expectations to uphold when it comes to being a girlfriend, a partner. 

Jamie sleeps like a rock, doesn’t even so much as twitch when she slips from his grip and rests his arm back on the side of the bed she used to occupy just moments earlier. Even the squeaky floorboard doesn’t wake him as she makes her way downstairs. 

A sweet smell permeates the air and makes (Y/N)’s mouth water. This heightened sense of smell is both a blessing and a curse. Mostly a curse. Most smells make her nauseous these days. Not today though, this one just makes her hungry. It smells of sugar and vanilla and all things sweet and warm.

Simon’s smiling face greets her as she rounds the corner into the kitchen. She wonders if this man ever stops smiling. He’s the personification of a ray of sunshine.

“Good morning, come have a seat. I’m making waffles.” 

Waffles. (Y/N) can’t remember the last time someone made her waffles for breakfast. Dad did, sometimes when she was little, and stayed with him for the weekend. But then the waffle iron broke and he never got around to buying a new one. So pancakes and bacon it was. Beans sometimes. Sausages if he was feeling particularly fancy.

“I’d love some, thank you! It smells amazing.” 

“Yeah? Oh, thank god. I was afraid the smell would be too much and make you feel sick. Only realized that after I poured in half the vial of vanilla essence though.” 

The sheepish look on his face puts a smile on (Y/N)’s face. It’s nice someone cares about those little things.

“Never had to deal with anyone pregnant so I don’t know these things but I had a quick Google last night and it says 8 weeks means a heightened sense of smell. Also, the baby is the size of a Raspberry.” 

If she didn’t know any better, (Y/N) would swear that Jamie and Simon must share some DNA. Both of them so clumsy in the way they care but infinitely endearing. 

“Yeah, Raspberry or Blueberry or Kidney Bean. So tiny." 

“Crazy isn’t it? To think it’s gonna be a proper human soon enough.” 

She nods her head in agreement as Simon places a plate stacked with two thick fluffy waffles before her. 

“You’re telling me. I know this is all happening inside my body and it’s still insane to think about. Doesn’t feel real.” 

Simon regards her with soft eyes. There is warmth in there but something else. Something she can’t quite place. Georgie had the same look last night. Like they know more than she does. And fuck, maybe they do. They’ve done this before. Lived enough of life to know what the hell they are doing. 

“Are you alright? “

(Y/N) was never big on sharing her feelings with anyone, let alone strangers. Life, and both her parents really, have taught her that talking about your feelings only makes you vulnerable. And being vulnerable usually ends in pain. So what you do is you take your insecurities, your fears, your sadness and you put it in a tiny little box and then you put on the lid. You tie a ribbon around it with a neat bow on top and then you take that box that holds your feelings and you bury it. And then you spend your whole life living like the protagonist in an Edgar Allan Poe story and that box becomes a beating heart under the floorboards of your life. 

And the beating never ever stops. 

“Sure. I’m good.” 

She thinks he knows she’s bluffing but lets it go anyway. Opening up to Jamie is scary enough, takes up enough of her bravery. Simon is lovely and if she was another person altogether she’d love to share her worries with him, he seems like the best listener. She’s not someone else though, she is just herself and she can’t bring herself to talk. 

“Okay. Just want you to know that if you need anything or — anyone. Georgie and I are always there to help. I know I’m not Jamie’s real dad but I do feel like that is my son. I don’t have children of my own and I only met Jamie when he was a pre-teen already so I don’t know much about babies but if you guys let me I am sure I can be a phenomenal grandad. My mum always used to say I was already born a little old man so this feels like I finally get a chance to be what I was always supposed to be. My time to shine has come.” 

A harmony of their laughter fills the kitchen. God, is this whole family made up of the sweetest people on this entire planet? Do they make them in a damn factory or something?

“I will hold you to it. When the baby is screaming and I need some sleep I’ll come drop them off with you then.” 

“Oh, I’ll be ready with some bedtime stories and lullabies.” 

“You are sweet, Simon. And I really appreciate the offer. God knows Jamie and I don’t know the first thing about being parents so we can take all the help we can get.” 

“Do you want to hear a secret?” 

“Sure.” 

“No one knows what they’re doing. As long as you try your best that’s all that matters. Kids are forgiving if they know you care.” 

People always say that but there’s a little part of (Y/N) that believes those words to be untrue. Did her mum try her best and this was the outcome? Or did she just not care to do more, to be better? And which of those scenarios would be worse? 

Jamie’s sleepy voice pulls her from her spiraling thoughts. “Morning, love.” 

He places a soft kiss on the top of her head. So sure, so unbothered as if they do this all the time. Is this what it feels like? Being able to show your feelings and show affection without wondering what consequences it may bring? Without fearing that it makes you too vulnerable? 

His hand finds her stomach and gives it a soft rub “And good morning to you, baby.” 

It will never not be endearing to her to hear him talk to the baby. And neither will the way he pronounces the word ever lose its magic to her. That is his pride and joy there. His babeh. 

“Aw Waffles, sweet!” 

As Jamie plops down next to Simon and stuffs his face with vanilla waffles, leaving a slight dust of powdered sugar on his lips, (Y/N) is certain that all his worries are unjustified. 

Jamie is all his dad and none of his father. Every inch and every fiber of him is a product of the love that Georgie and Simon have raised him with. He is them in the way he smiles and cares and the way he feels joy so freely and unabashedly.

And if only a smidge, only a sprinkle of that love is extended towards her child, that kid is gonna grow up so adored it won’t know where to put all of that love. 

“Think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Like pregnancy barf or meeting mum nausea? “

Leave it to Jamie to put a smile on her face even when the world around her seems to crumble and fall. 

“You gotta stop calling it that.” 

“Alright, but you have to tell me which one it is so I know if I should hand you a barf bag or give you a pep talk. I’m getting awfully good at them if I dare say so myself. Learned a lot from Ted, yeah?” 

If this was just the pregnancy making her nauseous everything would be so much easier. Ginger drops and rest would do the trick. But this is so much worse. This sharp feeling cursing through her veins, gnawing at her bones and devouring her like a hungry wolf. There truly is no one capable of breaking your heart like your own mother.

“Let me hear that pep talk then.” 

As he navigates the car up the long driveway, flanked by big ornate mansions with brass iron fences and perfectly symmetrical hedges, Jamie regards (Y/N) from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, well you don’t need to worry. Things are gonna be just fine. You know why?” 

“Why?” 

“Cause mums love me and middle-aged women love me. It’s cause they think I’m charming,” he says and glances at (Y/N) for a second. That radiant cheeky smile of his taking over his features. Oh, she hopes their kid gets his smile. “Which I am.” 

“So charming, really.” 

“You’d know,” Jamie replies and nods his head in the direction of her belly.

His laughter echoes through the car as she gives him a soft slap against the shoulder. There’s just something about Jamie that makes life feel a little lighter, a little more effortless. Even if it's just for a moment, just pretend. It does take the heavy weight off of (Y/N)’s heart for a second. 

The car rolls to a stop in front of the gorgeous white house (Y/N) pointed out to him when they turned into the street. The lawn looks immaculate, the hedges are trimmed to perfection. This plastic palace all grand and gaudy. It never felt like home even though (Y/N) spent most of her life growing up in these very halls. 

But really what is it that makes a house a home? Love and laughter and memories you want to return to. This is just four walls and a roof. 

“Hey,” Jamie speaks up and places a hand gently on hers. “It’ll be alright but even if it won’t it will.” 

“Huh?” 

“I mean — look if she reacts badly, that sucks. But you have me, yeah? Always. Me and Rebecca and my Mum and Simon. Once we tell them I know the team will be obsessed with our baby, they’ll love her so much.” 

“Or him.” 

“Or him, yes. Ted is going to freak out, I know he’s going to want to hang out with our kid all the time. Roy? He’s already the best old geriatric uncle the world has ever seen. He won’t admit it but he’ll be really happy for us. Sam, Issac, Keeley, Higgins? All of them will be just a call away if we need help. I’m not sure about coach Beard though, he scares me not gonna lie.” 

“I think he’s hilarious actually.” 

“It’s because you’re smart and understand his jokes.” 

“You’re smart too!” 

“Nah, I just talk a lot and hope I end up saying the right thing. Anyway, what I mean is, this is your mum, yes, but in the big picture, she is just one person. And if she doesn’t love our baby there are so many other people who will. This baby will never, not for one second have to wonder if they are loved, because they are. So much.” 

And as easy as it is for him to make (Y/N) laugh, as easy it seems to be to make her cry. Good tears though. Tears that say “I believe you that things are going to be alright”. Tears that say “thank you.”

“Jamie Tartt, of all the footballers that could’ve accidentally knocked me up, I am so glad it was you. You are going to be the best dad.” 

“And you’re already the best mum. Well tied with my mum, obviously.” 

“Obviously.” 

(Y/N)’s childhood home feels cold, Jamie notices. There are hardly any pictures and those that are there are posed and awkward. He can tell it’s (Y/N) on those pictures but they don’t feel like her. There is no happiness in them, no joy. None of that sarcastic charm she exudes. He passes by a lifetime of being told how to sit and how to smile and what to do and probably what to say as well. It makes him feel miserable. And it puts things into perspective. It makes sense now, her worries and fears. If you grow up surrounded by nothing but the cold you eventually start wondering if you’ll ever be capable of creating warmth.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” (Y/N)'s Mum asks as she sits down at the head of the table. There’s something scary about this woman. She demands attention like a god-given right. She extends nothing in return. Her eyes are sharp and intense. It makes Jamie feel like she can see right through him down to all his insecurities and faults. She’s fucking terrifying. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

He hates the way (Y/N)’s voice has become so small and timid ever since they stepped foot into this mansion. Hates that there is nothing he can do to make it better and take this weight off of her. Nothing but be there. So he does that at least. Be there in all the ways he can be.

It’s so silly really, how his heart beats just a little faster when he touches her hand underneath the table. When she welcomes the soft gesture. When she returns his gentle squeeze. And when she links her fingers with his. 

So silly. Stupid little treacherous heart.

“Well, I gathered that much. I just wish you would’ve called ahead of time so I could’ve made some food.” 

“Made some food? Since when do you cook?”

The look her mother throws at (Y/N) could freeze a lake solid. It’s mean and chilling and Jamie wishes he never would’ve pushed (Y/N) to come here. Hates himself a little for putting her in this situation.

“I did attend several cooking classes last year. See, if you’d visit me a bit more often you’d know that.” 

And if she wasn’t such a raging bitch, maybe (Y/N) would visit her more often, Jamie thinks. Fortunately, he’s gotten much better at impulse control lately, well ever since Ted arrived really. The old Jamie would’ve blurted out those thoughts with no care of any consequences.

The old Jamie probably wouldn’t have stepped up to be a dad though. 

“Anyway, I would’ve liked a little warning. Especially if you’re bringing someone.” 

Being at the receiving end of that icy glare feels awful, Jamie decides as (Y/N)’s mother regards him with a mix of disdain and humor. Her eyes sparkle with a sense of smug superiority. Jamie is used to people underestimating him. They think he’s stupid. Some dumb footballer with straw filling the places where a brain should be. Quite honestly it doesn’t bother him, never had. He’s the first to admit that he can be dumb when it comes to certain things. He’s no poet and he has never been particularly good at math. But this woman and the way she looks at him rubs him the wrong way. She knows nothing about him and yet she thinks she’s got him all figured out. Flesh and bones and all. 

“Yeah uh, sorry about that. It was a spontaneous thing really. We would’ve called — “

“Sure, whatever you say. James was it?” 

His name sounds like venom dripping from her lips. James. He hasn’t been James since the moment he was born and Georgie first kissed his tiny head and whispered “You’re my little Jamie.” Not that he remembers that but it’s a story his mom has recounted to him many times.

“Jamie, yes.” 

“Right, Jamie.”

An uncomfortable silence settles upon the room. It crawls into the cracks and crevices of their conversation. It spreads and festers and discomfort grows around them like mold on damp walls. 

“Mum, we’re here because I wanted to tell you I’m pregnant.” 

The confession shoots through the silence like a bullet. Cuts through it like a knife through a flimsy ribbon. If this was a movie they’d put in a freeze frame or underlay the scene with some dramatic musical score. But this is real life and it comes with no editing and no soundtrack.

No, it just comes with a bellowing laugh from (Y/N)’s mother. It’s not the kind of laughter that makes you want to laugh along. The kind that makes you feel like sunshine has erupted inside your ribcage and wraps you in a warm blanket. It’s not like (Y/N)’s laugh. This one is mocking. It’s ridiculous. It’s meant to make you feel small and dumb. It breaks his heart to know this is the laughter (Y/N) grew up with. 

“You can not be serious. Pregnant?” 

A short, quiet “Yes.” leaves (Y/N)’s lips. Jamie gently squeezes her hand in return. I am here. He says. I will always be here. She squeezes back. He hopes it means “I know.”

“You stupid little girl.” 

(Y/N)’s hand grabs his more tightly. A lifeline to hold on to. Crescent moon shapes stamped into his skin. But if this is the price he’ll have to pay in order to be a good partner in all of this then he’ll pay it 10 times over. Of all the things in this world, all the ways to describe her, stupid is not one Jamie would ever think of. 

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that.” 

Maybe a little bit of old Jamie is still there. The good parts. The protective, opinionated parts maybe. Not reckless but brave.

“She is my daughter and I will talk to her as I very well please. But you’re right. She is not a little girl, she’s a grown woman. Which makes this even worse. You should know better, (Y/N). Getting pregnant by some — some guy.”

“Some guy? Excuse me?” 

“Well you’re not her boyfriend, are you? You are just some guy with no obligation to her. And if you wake up one day and realize what a massive mistake you made then you can just leave. She’ll be stuck being a mother forever.” 

It boils his blood to hear those vicious words hurled at him and (Y/N). Mistake? Sure this baby wasn’t planned but they’re not a mistake. Not for one single second did Jamie think of his child as a mistake. A surprise. A shock even. But never a mistake.

“I know you don’t know me and quite honestly I don’t think I want to know you either but I can tell you one thing. That is my baby and I love it now and I will always love it. It is not a mistake. You can judge me, you can judge her and you can judge our decisions but stop talking about my child like that. That is just uncalled for. I know my word doesn’t mean anything to you but I was here from the moment (Y/N) told me she was pregnant and I will be here for the rest of my life. That is a promise.” 

She has the audacity to scoff at him and completely ignore everything he just said. Instead, she moves her cold hard gaze towards (Y/N).

“What do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, you’re not getting those here. Your father would be so — “ 

Before she can finish the sentence a shrill screeching sound cuts her off as (Y/N) pushes away from the dining table.

“I gotta get out of here.” 

“Oh, what is this now? You’re just going to leave because you don’t get the reaction you hoped for? I can pretend if that’s what you want me to —”

“Mum, I am not running. I need to go! I am nauseous as fuck and if you don’t want me to empty my stomach onto your dining table just let me leave. I didn’t come here asking for your approval, I just thought you should know you’re going to be a grandmother. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go throw up in your bushes.” 

Jamie is hot on her heels, grabbing both their jackets and (Y/N)’s bag in the process as he rushes after her. Though even in the chaos and hurry he doesn’t miss the look of absolute shock and bewilderment on the older woman’s face. It feels like a small victory but it does paint a little smile on his lips.

“Oh don’t do that. I’m disgusting.” 

“I’ll be watching you push out a whole damn baby. This is nothing compared to that.” 

If it weren’t such an absurd situation, that comment probably would’ve sent her spiraling but really it’s the least confusing part of today. Of course, Jamie wants to be around for the birth. Now that he mentioned it, (Y/N) thinks she shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, he’ll be there. He’s been there for it all so far of course he’ll be there when the baby enters this world.

It’s almost a little dreamy and magical to think about. Almost. Because life doesn’t let her think too much about it before it sends another wave of vomit up her esophagus. 

“I don’t mind holding your hair while you puke, you're growing a whole human it’s the least I can do. But I gotta ask you something.” 

“What’s that?” (Y/N) asks and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater. Desperate times, desperate measures. At least that’s how she tries to justify it to herself.

“Is that hedge purposely cut to look like a dick?” 

He nods towards one of the boxwood trees at the edge of the property that (Y/N) has no doubt her mother hired a gardener to trim and shape and care for. 

“Holy shit, it does.” 

“And cut too. You think your mum knows?” 

And suddenly the nausea is gone and forgotten about and in its place, a flurry of giggles takes over. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Jamie asks once they both calm down a little.

Is she okay? Not really but this too will pass and it’s not like she expected anything else from her mother. Ever since (Y/N) was a little kid she remembers her mother dulling all her joy and whimsy. Why should things be different now? 

“No. But I will be.” and when he takes her hand in his and places a soft kiss on her knuckles, for the first time since turning into this very street, she truly believes in those words.

“Good. Now do you wanna go home or do something else?” 

“Home sounds good but uh — do you want to stay? Watch a movie or something? I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Another kiss to her knuckles sends her heart into a little frenzy. Teeny tiny somersaults all around her ribcage.

“Yeah, can I pick? “

“Fuck no.”

“Alright, was worth a try.”

“It was a dream? That’s it?”

The ending credits to The Wizard of Oz play on her little TV screen as (Y/N) and Jamie sit on her couch, a bowl of microwave popcorn long devoured and now empty resting between them.

“I mean, you can interpret it however you want.” 

“Meh, didn’t like that one very much. Next time we should watch the Muppets treasure island. That’s a good one.” 

There truly is something so sweetly endearing about Jamie’s childlike qualities. His unintentional goofiness and his ability to make even the worst day turn into an okay one. An “all in all kinda good” one.

“Okay, fine. Next time we’ll watch the Muppets. It just — my dad had the Wizard of Oz on DVD. One of the few movies he had. So whenever I’d stay with him we’d watch it together. I think I just wanted to feel close to him today.” 

“Hey,” Jamie chimes up and gently nudges her shoulder with his. “I didn’t know your dad but from what you said about him he seemed like a fun guy. A good guy. So I think your mum is wrong. He’d be proud of you. I know that.”

And for the second time that day (Y/N) thanks whatever cosmic power there is for putting Jamie in her life. For making him the person who goes through all of this alongside her. For making him her partner in this crazy adventure. For making him the father of her child.

“Thanks, Jamie. I really appreciate that you stood up for me and the baby. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just froze. Every time I talk to her I want to say so many things but they get stuck somewhere on the way from my brain to my mouth.” 

“It’s okay, I get it. It’s like that with my dad too. We’ll just have to be each other’s voices then I guess.” 

“That sounds like a good plan to me.” 

He does it again then, that tiny insignificant kiss on the top of her head. It means nothing.

But it means everything.

“Hey uh — I’m not really tired yet. Do you wanna start that Muppets movie now?”

“Uh yeah? Absolutely. I’ll never say no to Kermit. He is THE frog.” 

Just a little while later, while Kermit and Miss Piggy sing a love song on screen while hanging off a cliff, (Y/N)’s eyes fall shut, her head resting gently against Jamie’s shoulder. 

For the second time in less than 24 hours (Y/N) falls asleep in Jamie’s arms. And though she might not realize it right then, she has never felt more safe and secure ever before.

Maybe things really will be alright.

“Now I know that life can take you by surprise, And sweep you off your feet. Did this happen to us, Or are we just dreaming? Love led us here.”

@captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy - @zbeez-outlet - @burnafter-reading - @britbratface - @labellapeaky - @mavisvermillion-first - @ladygrey03 - @charlesgirl16 - @cantbecreative - @nerdgirljen - @qardasngan - @confessionsofatotaldramaslut

[inbloomwriting]

Okay its done!!! I just need to spellcheck and edit a tiny bit so you'll for sure get chapter 3 tomorrow ♥

Any chance of an update to Everything to Me?

You know what ... I had the first like 5 sentences written and collecting dust in my WIP folder. I just did not have a good time recently. Life is just — shit.

But then I read your message and I reread the first two parts and I honestly really want to continue sooooo I have picked chapter 3 back up again. I am not promissing the best chapter of all time and idk if I will manage to get it out this weekend but I am trying.

Mostly for you ♥

[inbloomwriting]

Any chance of an update to Everything to Me?

You know what ... I had the first like 5 sentences written and collecting dust in my WIP folder. I just did not have a good time recently. Life is just — shit.

But then I read your message and I reread the first two parts and I honestly really want to continue sooooo I have picked chapter 3 back up again. I am not promissing the best chapter of all time and idk if I will manage to get it out this weekend but I am trying.

Mostly for you ♥

[inbloomwriting]

God I love the collaborative nature of fanfiction. the yes and of fanfiction. the oh, what if nature of fanfiction. The endlessly unfolding, expanding, fractalizing, personalizing of fanfiction. The, I hear you, I love you, but I want to see it through another lens, of fanfiction. The way canon endlessly spawns ideas, and each spark of concept prompts another dozen lights to glow.

It is deeply human to refract a story through yourself so it can shine a light on that one specific emotion you needed to find. And it is the best of humanity that our instinct is to take what we have made, and share it with others.

[inbloomwriting]

fanfics are one of the best things that humanity has come up with. i fucking love reading stories about my favorite characters from people who have the same brainrot as me

[inbloomwriting]

the ledges of our lives II Tommy Miller

Plot: Tommy has been in love with (Y/N) since the first moment he laid eyes on her. One fateful 4th of July he finally tells her how he feels and nothing can keep them apart ... except maybe the apocalypse.

Pairing: Tommy Miller x female reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, semi-sad ending

Notes: Friends lovers. Not necessarily a happy ending but not super sad either. 8.9k words.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The Millers don’t shoot fireworks on the 4th of July, they never have, at least not that Sarah can remember. No one has ever really said why, it was just an unspoken thing they all adhered to. Like a special non-tradition in their family. Sarah thinks it might have something to do with the sticker on her dad’s car, she doesn’t mention it though. 

The Millers aren’t big on parties either, it’s mostly just Sarah and her dad and uncle Tommy — and (Y/N). Just to four of them in their perfect little harmony. (Y/N)’s been there from the start, a friend of Uncle Tommy’s who entered their lives and found a permanent place in all their hearts. She’s part of the family as much as the rest of them. Where Tommy is (Y/N) is and the other way around. Sometimes Sarah wonders why the two of them aren’t dating, it would make so much sense, they’re married as it is. But then again, she’s 14 years old. What does she know about messy grown-up romance?

A heavy heat rests upon Austin on the 4th of July of 2003. The kind that makes your hair go frizzy and your clothes stick to your skin. Joel’s turned on the sprinklers a while ago, after some soft nagging from Sarah. He’s been grumbling about how it’ll ruin the lawn to have them on while the sun burns down on the grass. He’s ended up chasing his daughter through the spray of water anyway, earning a round of laughter from the girl.

The radio is playing quietly in the background, mostly drowned out by the sizzling of the steaks on the grill. They were supposed to grill hot dogs but the shop was all out of buns. So steaks and veggie skewers it is. 

“Harrold is crazy if he thinks we're gonna pay that much for some copper pipes. Lost his damn mind. Hey - are you even listening to me?"

Tommy's eyes snap up to meet his brother's amused smirk. 

“What? What’s the shit-eating grin for?” 

“Don’t worry about it. Just nice to know where your attention is at.” 

Joel nods his head towards the other end of the backyard where the picnic table sits that he and Tommy built when Sarah was just a little kid. There are handprints on the wood, his in blue, Tommy’s in green, (Y/N)’s in Orange, and Sarah’s tiny handprint in purple. Another summer years ago that seems so far away and yet it feels like nothing has changed. 

"That sundress is really doing a number on you, huh?"

Tommy's gaze flits towards the girls as they are sitting at the picnic table, playing cards in hand and bright smiles on their faces.

(Y/N) is wearing a yellow sundress, so bright and vibrant it rivals the sun itself. She looks damn good in it. Like a vision plugged straight from a dream Tommy's had once or twice (or many nights but who's counting).

"No idea what you're talking about, old man."

Joel lets out that familiar scoff, the one Tommy knows so well after all these years. He’s had the same scoff even as a child. The kind that lets you know he doesn’t believe a single word you’re saying without him having to tell you outright. It’s infuriating when it’s directed at you and hilarious when directed at someone else. 

“I don’t know what you’re on about.” 

“Sure you don’t, knucklehead. Look, I’m just wondering if you’re ever going to do something about — this,” Joel exclaims and motions his beer bottle between his younger brother and the goddess in the sundress sitting just a few steps away.

It’s not the first time they’re having this conversation. In fact, Tommy's had this conversation countless times before with pretty much all of his friends, his parents, even Sarah has mentioned it before. And quite a few times with Joel too. 

Maybe the question wouldn’t bother him so much if it didn’t force him to think about the what-ifs himself. Like what-if he actually mustered up the courage to make a move, and what-if she said yes? But then what-if she said no and everything they have now would be utterly destroyed never to be repaired? 

He doesn’t think of himself as a coward, in fact, he knows he’s given his mother more than one heart attack in his lifetime by being just a little bit too reckless. But there is something absolutely terrifying to him when it comes to making a move with (Y/N). She’s been part of his life since he was just a 10-year-old lanky kid with a big mouth and an even bigger ego. She liked him then and she likes him now and is it really worth risking all the love she gives him now for a what-if?

“Since when have you become a love expert, huh?” 

“I haven’t, “ Joel replies and takes a sip of beer “ I just know when things work and you guys, you seem to work.” 

He’s right but Tommy is never going to admit that. Joel would never let him hear the end of it and there’s hardly anything more annoying than proving Joel right. 

“And I get it, she’s beautiful and smart and — “

“Okay, cool it. You wanna make a move on her?” 

Joel gives him that snarl that reminds him so much of his dad and the way he used to look at Tommy and Joel when they were kids and he disapproved of something stupid they did.

“Don’t even go there, kid.” 

Kid. He hates when Joel pulls the older brother card. Then again, he could’ve done so much worse when it comes to family, when it comes to brothers. With all his faults and quirks, Joel is a good guy. He’s loyal and protective and he puts family above anything and everything else. Just don’t tell him that, he’ll deny being a good guy. He’s humble like that.

“Just don’t want you to regret not doing anything about it when it’s too late.”

Before his mind can wander off too far, further down the road paved with what-ifs and sickeningly sweet visions of a future unknown, (Y/N)’s voice cuts through his brain fog.

“Oh, I love that song! Turn up the radio, boys!”

The opening chords of “Here comes your man” by the Pixies fill the air, louder when Tommy turns the little dial up a notch or two.

She’s on her feet, barefoot dancing on the grass, illuminated by the hot July sun, pulling Sarah up to dance with her. 

The younger girl starts moving begrudgingly but even she isn’t immune to the contagious enthusiasm that (Y/N) radiates and two seconds later she’s dancing along as if she was never hesitant in the first place. 

There’s just something about (Y/N). 

“Her taste in music, however — “ Joel teases before turning over the steaks as they sizzle on the grill. 

Tommy doesn’t mind the teasing. Not right now. He hardly processes it. Not when in front of him, he gets to watch his whole world twirl in the sun and laugh as if life has never been sweeter. 

"Here comes your maaaan!" 

She can't hit a note if her life depends on it and it doesn't matter to Tommy at all. Not in the slightest. He loves hearing her sing. He loves when she unapologetically lets herself enjoy the little things in life. Like a good-bad song.

"… and here comes the food!" 

Joel isn't quite as enamored with her bad singing as his younger brother is but even he can't stop the corner of his lips from pulling up. There's just something about her that hits each member of the Miller family straight to the heart. 

By the time the steaks and veggies are gone, the sun is about to dip behind the horizon.

Dusk paints the sky in pinks and purples and fireflies start blinking all over the yard like tiny stars.

The air has cooled down with the sun saying its farewell for the day and if things were different they’d stay out here a little longer. Not today though. 

Where other people gather their friends and family to watch the sky be illuminated by a kaleidoscope of colors, the Millers call it an early night and make their way inside before the first firework is lit. 

The Miller’s Fourth of July ends on the couch with a movie playing on the TV and when the outside world gets loud, they just turn up the volume a little more.

“Swing away Merrill. …” 

“Fucking water?! They want me to believe the solution to an alien invasion is fucking water?! ON EARTH?!” 

Joaquin Phoenix flickers across the screen, fighting an Alien with the help of a baseball bat and a bunch of abandoned glasses of water but Tommy can’t seem to keep his eyes off of (Y/N). Her hair messed up from dancing around the yard all day, from sweating and running through the sprinkler. Her lips wiped clear of the red lipstick she'd put on earlier. The slight shiny residue of sunscreen on her skin. 

And that look of absolute disbelief and outrage on her face.

“You’re telling me out of all the planets in the solar system, they chose to come to Earth? A planet that is 71% water? When that is their biggest weakness? Sounds highly implausible to me, honestly.” 

She scrunches her nose in irritation and for a split second, Tommy sees the little girl again that he first befriended all those years ago.

“Darling, it’s a movie about Aliens. It doesn’t have to be plausible. It just has to be entertaining.” 

Letting out a huff, she sinks further into the couch. “Well, it can’t have been too entertaining either.” 

Motioning her head towards the other couch, Tommy lets his eyes follow only to be met with a much familiar sight.

Sarah is fast asleep, legs thrown over Joel’s lap and head resting on the side of the couch. It looks anything but comfortable but it doesn’t seem to bother her much judging by her snoozing away softly. Her soft snores are accompanied by Joel’s loud rattling ones. 

“Sarah’s a kid, what does she know about cinema? And Joel has always had shit taste in movies, even when we were kids.”

“Tommy, babe.” (Y/N) exclaims and places a soft hand on his biceps. He wonders if she knows that even a touch as small as this one, as insignificant, makes his heart race. “I hate to tell you this but Alien movies are a bit shit in general.” 

“You say that now, but just you wait. The day we get invaded I will be prepared and you will be sitting here wishing you had paid attention to these movies.” 

He loves the giggle that falls from her lips. If sunshine made a sound he’s sure it would sound like her laugh. Even if it comes with her making fun of him. He’ll take all the teasing if it means he gets to hear her laugh.

“So are you saying if we got invaded by Aliens you’d just let me get abducted? Is that what I am hearing?”

“Absolutely. And you best be telling me everything once they bring you back.”

“You’re full of shit, Tommy Miller. You’d go crazy without me. Hell, I’m only leaving for 3 months this summer and you’re already whining about it.” 

She’s right and he hates thinking about it. Back when they were kids she went to visit her grandparents in Montana every summer and Tommy was miserable without her. Those visits grew few and far between as they got older but with her grandfather suffering a broken leg and her grandmother unable to tend to their farm all by herself it served as the perfect opportunity for (Y/N) to fly out and relish in childhood nostalgia.

“I’m not whining, Darling. Just worried you’ll miss my handsome face too much.” 

“Oh please, you just — “

“Can you guys cut it out? People here are trying to sleep”, Joel’s gruff voice cuts through their bickering, putting an immediate stop to the conversation. 

“Sorry Joel” they reply in unison, like a pair of scolded children having been caught staying up past their bedtime. Though Joel pays no mind to their apology, his snores fill the room once again.

As Tommy turns back towards (Y/N), her arms are stretched out wide as a tired yawn leaves her body.

“You tired? Need a ride home?” 

“Are you offering?” 

“Always, baby.”

Tommy doesn’t consider himself a big romantic, doesn’t really believe in all those grand and larger-than-life rom-com ideas but sometimes when the fireflies light up the world outside and the air smells like sunscreen and campfire and when she looks at him with those beautiful eyes of her he gets a weird feeling that spreads all around his body. It fills him from the tip of his nose to his feet. Those moments make him reconsider for a second. Maybe the movies are onto something.

Even though the sun set a long time ago, the air outside is still thick and muggy. It makes the hair in the nape of his neck curl up and stick to his skin. 

It’s sticky and uncomfortable and yet, Tommy loves nights like these. They allow him to remember the boy he used to be. All those late summer nights with (Y/N) by his side, driving down back roads and shooting the shit and talking about everything one can only imagine. Those nights felt like they belonged to them only and like they lasted a lifetime. All that youthful magic caught in a moment. 

The windows are rolled down and Billy Joel is blasting from the beat-up car radio. (Y/N) is softly humming along to Summer, Highland Falls, eyes closed, messy-haired and barefoot, and a smile playing on her lips as she soaks up the gust of wind.

“You do know I was joking, right?” 

She opens her eyes and looks at him with that infinite softness that she reserves for certain people only. Mostly him and Sarah and Joel.

“About what?” 

“The Alien thing.” 

“Huh? You mean to tell me you’re not prepared for an invasion after all.” 

He retorts with a gentle nudge to the shoulder. “No, stupid. I mean that if something were to happen, anything at all, I would never leave you behind. I’d never let them take you.” 

“The metaphorical aliens.” 

“Yeah, those. And anyone else too. You know that, right? Sarah, Joel, and you, that’s all that matters to me.” 

This is as honest and raw as Tommy gets when it comes to talking about his feelings and emotions. He wasn’t raised like that. His dad was stoic and silent and filled with toxic ideas of what a man should be and how a man should behave. Joel and Tommy have tried their best to unlearn a lot of the toxic traits their dad had bestowed on them, especially once Sarah came along, but some things just stick with you.

“I do know that. You know I’d do the same, right? You guys are my family. You are my family.” 

He wants to kiss her so badly. All the voices in his head are screaming at him to do it, just do it. She’s leaving tomorrow and won't be back until early October and by then he will probably have talked himself into chickening out once again.

But what if?

What if he kisses her and fucks it all up? 

“It′s either sadness or euphoria” 

And Billy is so right. 

The euphoria he would be thrilled to experience.

The sadness, he thinks, the sadness might kill him.

So he rids himself off the foolish little dreams, pushes them back to the furthest corner of his heart where they can live amongst themselves to only come to light when the night is lonely and Tommy feels like torturing himself.

He takes her hand, presses a gentle kiss on her knuckles, and nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I know.” 

And the wind blows through the open window, and the fireflies dance, and the crickets sing their song. He thinks they should call it “The Ballad of the Coward, Tommy Miller.” 

The gravel crunches under his wheels as Tommy pulls up (Y/N)’s driveway. He can’t help but think back to all the times he climbed the trellis up to (Y/N)’s window so the nights didn’t have to end yet. Back before her parents moved to Florida and gave the house to her. Now that childhood bedroom is an office and the trellis is overgrown with roses. 

As he turns off the ignition, the silence of the night settles upon them like a blanket. Things unsaid heavy in the air, resting on his shoulders. 

“I didn’t say it earlier but I am gonna miss you this summer. And Sarah,” (Y/N) says as she slips back into her sandals and grabs her bag from the backseat. “Joel too but don’t you dare tell him I said that.” 

A chuckle falls from Tommy’s lips. “He won’t hear a peep from me.” 

“You’re not gonna say it back?” 

“C’mon now, sweetheart. You know damn well that I’m gonna miss the shit out of you. I don’t have to tell you. You know.” 

There’s something in the way she looks at him right then. Something he thinks he’s seen before but can’t place, can’t name. After all these years there are still mysteries about her.

“I do know.”

Kiss her you fucking fool. He wants to, he really does. But his hands are stuck to the steering wheel and his feet bolted to the car. Even if he wanted to move, his body won’t let him.

“Anyway uh — have a good summer Tommy.” 

“You too. Have fun and tell your grandparents I said hi.” 

She throws him one last look before making it halfway up the path leading to her front door. Billy Joel continues singing about caviar and cabernet when (Y/N) stops in her tracks. Illuminated by the moonlight and that one tiny lamp by her front door, she looks almost ethereal. 

Tommy’s eyes meet hers across the driveway and she rushes back towards his side of the car.

“Hey, did you forget — “

Before he can finish the sentence she’s leaning into the car and pressing her lips against his with fierce determination.

It’s rushed and quick and for a second Tommy thinks he’s dreaming. He’s not though. This is real. The smell of her perfume and the feel of her hair and the taste of her lips on his.

The kiss is over before Tommy can even fully comprehend it even happened. All that is left is the knowledge that it did happen and the shocked look on (Y/N)’s face.

“Tommy I’m so sorry, I — “ 

“Don’t apologize. Let me get out.” 

“What?” 

“Let me get out of the car so I can kiss you properly.” 

He doesn’t have to tell her twice. As soon as she takes a step back, Tommy is out of the car and pulls (Y/N) into his arms. She’s so warm. So soft.

There is still a nagging voice inside his head that whispers poisonous “what ifs” to him. That tells him he’s not worth it, that he will ruin all they are. That he will ruin her.

But for this one fleeting moment, Tommy chooses not to listen to the worries and the doubts and those damn insecurities. 

Tonight he will kiss her stupid and he won’t feel any regret about it. He could never regret her.

With her back against the car and his hands on her hips, their lips meet again. This kiss is different. It’s years of longing and dreams they never allowed themselves to fully believe in all caught in one touch. Passionate and sweet and loving and desperate. 

Nothing ever felt or tasted like this. Nothing’s ever come close.

When they pull away, Tommy goes in for another one and then a third. He never wants this moment to end.

But he’s not delusional, he knows everything ends. Especially moments like this one. 

“I uh — wow.” 

“Mmmh…wow. How, why — I mean … what ?” 

“Tommy I meant to do this a long time ago I just always chickened out. Tell me I didn’t make a mistake.” 

He places another peck on her lips, a sign of reassurance, knowing he’s not good with words. 

“You didn’t make a mistake. I wanted this too. I want it, present tense.” 

“Okay, good. Good, I — eurgh I’m so annoyed I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” 

Tommy gently cradles her face in his hands. “It’s just 3 months, right? It will be over before we know it. And then we can talk about it and see where to go from here. I waited so long, what is 3 more months? After that, we have all the time in the world.” 

“Ugh, you’re right.”

“Course I am. I’m always right.”

“Sure you are,” she giggles and meets his lips in another sweet kiss. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you at the end of summer.”

“I’m counting down the days, baby.”

He’s called her baby countless times before but this one feels different. 

Watching her walk up towards her house is hard. All Tommy wants to do is pull her back into his arms and hold onto this moment just a little bit longer. But he knows he can’t and even if he did, he would never get enough. He would always want just a little bit more.

So he drives off knowing that by the end of summer, he’ll be able to call her his. Properly, entirely, forever.

September comes and with it the end of the world. 

(Y/N) wraps the thick knitted scarf tighter around herself trying to keep out the cold. To no avail. The cold is everywhere. It's permeating every article of clothing, sinking into her skin and settling all the way inside her bones.

She barely remembers the last time she didn’t feel this relentless cold throughout her entire body. It must have been before she was forced to leave the farm. Not a day in the wild has gone by without her feeling like she might freeze any moment now. Her skin feels raw and dry and burning and the only thing taking her mind off of the cold is the empty pit in her stomach.

It’s been 2 days since she ate the last of the dried jerky she took from the farm and ever since she’s been surviving on dry crackers and nuts. It’s not a lot. It’s barely enough. 

Long gone are warm summer nights in Austin or days on the farm surrounded by her family. There are no months or years. All there is now is the cold and death. And it’s never-ending.

A sound in the distance makes her head snap up. There is movement, 3 shapes moving towards her, big and fast. People on horses, she realizes as they come closer and her hand moves towards her gun. It’s not the undead walking which is good but there are worse things out there. Worse people than those that are people no more. Fates worse than death.

“Lady, drop the gun”, a voice cuts through the harsh winter air. 

“Not a chance!” 

“Drop the gun. We know you are alone, we can help you.” 

They always say that. We are friendly. We can help you.  They’re never friendly. And nowadays you can’t afford to trust strangers, especially not those who offer you help. They will leave you scarred — and that’s the best-case scenario.

It’s three men on horses that surround her now. Their faces are mostly covered by scarves and they’re all wearing cowboy hats. 

“Ma’am I need you to lower the gun.” 

(Y/N) pulls her scarf down a little so as not to muffle her voice. They need to know she means business. They need to know she’s determined and not some little girl who will go down without a fight. That’s what life is now, fighting. Always fighting. The living, the dead, everything at all times.

“I can’t do — “

“(Y/N)?”

It’s strange, she thinks. It’s been so long since she heard his voice and yet it feels like just yesterday that same voice has been teasing her for one thing or another. It’s deeper, worn, and weary, but it’s still the same in all the ways that matter.

“Joel?” 

“It’s okay, she’s family! She’s family.” 

It’s a statement directed towards the other man, (Y/N) realizes. 

Family. It’s been a long time since she’s had that. A proper family. People she can rely on. 

Joel dismounts his horse, snow crunching beneath his boots as he makes his way towards her. Time feels to slow down as he wraps his arms around her, warm and comforting and familiar. It’s been a long time since she’s been touched by a hand meant to bring comfort not inflict pain. 

These days you can not afford to trust strangers. Maybe, though, maybe you can trust this stranger because he is not a stranger at all. He’s Joel — he’s family. 

For the first time in a long time (Y/N) lets go of the weight, of the pain and the hurt and the fear. For the first time in a long time, she allows herself to cry.

And for the first time in a long time — they are happy tears.

Being in Jackson feels strange. It all feels a bit artificial. Like Disneyland. Not bad but not quite real. This can’t be permanent, she thinks. Sooner or later something is gonna happen and she’ll be ripped away and back comes the cold and the fear and the reality of the world they are living in now. A world ruled by the dead.

Joel has wrapped her up in a thick, warm blanket. He’s provided her with food, warm and tasty. Food that was not meant only to keep you alive but also taste good. 

He put a steaming hot mug of tea into her frostbitten hands and he hugged her. For a long time. And Joel was never a hugger to begin with, even before — before everything. Birthdays and funerals were the only two occasions she’d ever gotten a hug from him. 

“I can’t believe it’s you,” he says as he pulls away and looks at her. He’s older, looks tired and weary. Marked by life and all the things he no doubt had to do to survive. But he’s still Joel. His eyes still hold that undeniable fondness of an old friend, a family member, a father. 

“Where’s Sarah?” 

She doesn’t mean for it to come out like that. Doesn’t mean to even ask in the first place. But Sarah always had a place in her heart so big she might as well have taken the whole damn thing. She was fierce and so terribly smart, they all joked that she could not have been a Miller, must’ve been switched at birth. Obviously (Y/N) always thought both Miller boys were selling themselves short. They were smart as fuck in all the ways that mattered.

Joel’s eyes grow distant for a moment and he doesn’t even have to say it out loud for (Y/N) to understand. In a world like this, everyone has lost someone but losing a child, that must be a whole nother level of pain.

“I’m sorry, Joel.” There is nothing she can say to make it better, to make it right. There is only grief and sadness and the knowledge that it is shared. “I’m so sorry.” 

He nods and squeezes her once more. She thinks what’s left of her heart might be crushed into tiny little pieces at the agony mirrored in his eyes. “It’s been a long time.”

Time does not heal a wound like this. It’s but a bandaid on a bullet hole. There are only two options, (Y/N) thinks. You either learn to live with the pain, accept that it is now a part of you, that it changes you fundamentally. Or you let it kill you.

A cold gust of air wraps itself around (Y/N) as the doors to the building swing open. The Tipsy Bison, the sign above the door proudly proclaimed. A bar. They even got a fucking bar in here.

“Joel wha— holy shit.” 

Back when they were teenagers, (Y/N) always tried to get Tommy to grow out his hair. Though she loved those messy curls of his, she was so damn curious to see what he would look like with longer hair. Hot, she assumed. And she was fucking right.

He looks so handsome. More rugged and older but that’s to be expected, time has passed. But still so goddamn handsome that it sends a shockwave straight to her heart. 

“I thought you were dead.” 

She doesn’t even realize he’s moved until he is right in front of her, hands cupping her face. 

“I — we drove up to Montana, tried to find the farm but most everything was gone and burned down. People said there was nothing left so I — I thought.” 

“I can’t believe you grew a mustache. You look like your dad.” 

Joel lets out a snort next to her. She always took pride in getting a laugh out of Joel. A snort is even better.

“We haven’t seen each other since the world went to shit and the first thing you do is make fun of my mustache?” 

Oh, how she missed that smile. Tommy truly has one of the best smiles she has ever seen, there is no competition. It’s warm and comforting and a little bit mischievous. And he never fails to make you believe that you are the only one he deems deserving of that rare special smile. It’s entirely yours for a fleeting second.

“Like old times. What else would you want me to say?” 

“I missed you would be a good start.” 

“I missed you, Tommy. More than anything.” 

He engulfs her in his arms. It’s been so long since life gave her softness instead of cruelty. His breath feels warm against her skin as he rests his head upon her shoulder. There is something so familiar about his touch that for a second she feels like that version of her again, young and careless and alive. 

She loves Tommy Miller, it’s an undeniable fact. Love, (Y/N) thinks, is something that never truly goes away. It might warp and twist and change and sometimes it gets buried underneath the grief and the pain and the fear. But nothing can take it away entirely. Even the world ending, literally, doesn’t change the fact that she is in love with Tommy Miller. Every version of her since she was but a teenager has loved him. And every version of her yet to come will love him still. 

“I missed you too.” 

His deep brown eyes shine with something so familiar that for a moment she knows that he loves her too. Always has, always will.

The cold is back, another gust of wind clashes like tiny daggers against her skin. And with the cold comes a beautiful woman, all kind eyes and gentle smile. 

And when the woman steps up next to Tommy, he wraps a loving arm around her waist and presses a kiss to her temple. 

“Maria, this is (Y/N). She’s my best friend.” 

The woman, Maria, regards her with nothing but kindness. A welcoming warmth radiating from her like that of an old friend, a loving neighbor.

“(Y/N), this is Maria, my wife.”

She hopes in that moment that her eyes are kind too. That her smile seems genuine and that neither of them can see her dying inside. Because for the second time in her life, (Y/N) thinks the world might be ending once and for all. 

A squeeze against her hand lets her know that at least one of the Miller brothers does notice it. She hopes that Tommy, at least, is blissfully unaware. He deserves a good thing, a loving wife, a family. Even if it’s not with (Y/N). Even if it breaks her heart.

“(Y/N), Tommy’s talked about you so much. It feels like I know you already. We thought — it’s really something that you found us.” 

“Well, Joel found me. It was truly by chance.” 

“Which makes it even more special. It’s like you were meant to be here with us.” 

She looks at Tommy then, into those big brown eyes that have known every version of herself she’s ever been. 

“Yeah, maybe I was.” 

“You were! You’re family. Come let me show you where you can get a nice hot shower and some fresh clothes. And then one of the boys can give you a tour of the town, how does that sound?” 

This would all be so much easier if Maria was unlikable. If this was a movie Maria would be rude and snobbish and mean, unkind to everyone and so easily dismissed as a roadblock in our main character's path to happiness and eternal love. 

But life is not a movie and Maria is not the villain of this story. She’s wonderful. She’s funny and sweet and affectionate. On their walk towards the showers, she makes (Y/N) feel more welcome in this strange place than she has ever felt welcome anywhere before. She’s smart and there is no doubt in (Y/N)’s mind that if Sarah were here she would adore Maria. No matter how hard she tries to find a flaw in this magical woman, (Y/N) comes up empty. There is no reason to blame her or villainize her simply for falling in love with Tommy. Heaven knows it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Even a hot shower doesn’t get rid of all the cold. Not that certain kind of cold that has settled deep inside her bones, festered and grew. But it is nice either way. God knows how long it’s been since she was able to properly wash her hair. 

Maria left some clothes out for her. Nice and cozy and it’s like another stab to the heart. To know this woman wants the best for her when (Y/N) is still so terribly in love with her husband. It feels wrong, feels icky, and vile. If only love had an off switch life would be so much easier.

“Hey uh — can I come in?” Joel’s gruff voice calls out from behind the door.

“Yeah, sure.” 

Snow is sticking to his hair and shoulders as he steps into the room while (Y/N) laces up the boots Maria provided her with. Back in the day, she loved snow. It very rarely did snow in Austin and even then it was usually very little snowfall that didn’t stay around for long enough to enjoy it. Back then snow was something magical.

Now snow is just another reminder of this god-awful cold. 

“Maria said to give you a tour of the town and then show you your new place but uh — I know it can be a lot so if you want to postpone the tour that’s fine.” 

Joel was so good at this, always has been, at knowing what you needed before you did. 

“That would be nice. I think I just want to sleep.” 

He nods and motions his head towards the front of the house. “I thought so. Grab your jacket and let’s go.” 

Jackson is decked out in Christmas lights and wreaths. Ribbons and ornaments. There’s even a Christmas tree in the middle of town square. 

“Is it Christmas time?” (Y/N) asks as they pass the tree, people greeting her with friendly smiles and the occasional wave.

“Mmmh. Tommy said they have a few people who kept track of the dates.” 

The sight of smiling families gathering around the tree involuntarily brings back memories of Christmases past. Sarah always loved Christmas. If she had been allowed to do so she would’ve put up the tree by November 1st. It was always a big thing in the Miller household, going out and cutting down the tree. Joel and Tommy would set it up in the living room then and (Y/N) and Sarah would put on old Christmas records and dance around the tree while decorating it. 

Memories are a weird thing. They are what keep you going, they are what you are made of but they also manage to bring a deep sadness with them, impossible to shake. They leave you simultaneously grateful to have them and devastated you can never go back to those moments.

“There’s a big get-together happening tomorrow night. It’s some kind of town celebration, I don’t know, but Maria and Tommy thought you might want to come. Said I’d ask you but you might want to get acclimated first.” 

In the universe, there are very few things at the moment that (Y/N) wants to do less than spend the evening celebrating with the man she loves and his new wife. However, this is gonna be her life now and she needs to get used to it. These people took her in, and yeah even though she knows Joel and Tommy that does not mean anything anymore. She’s a stranger to the people of Jackson, to Maria, and they still welcomed her in with open arms. She owes them. She owes Maria. 

"Yeah, I'll come.” 

“You sure?” 

“Sure, why not?”

Joel gives her that look. That signature Joel Miller look that calls you out on your bullshit without him even having to say a single word. God, usually that look was reserved for Tommy and Sarah, mostly Tommy. It does not feel very good being on the receiving end of it.

“What? I need to get involved in the community if I want to stay.” 

“Sure, but it doesn’t have to be right away. “ 

(Y/N) shrugs her shoulders in what she hopes looks like nonchalance. Might as well rip off the bandaid, it’s not holding her bleeding wound closed anyway.

“You know you are allowed to be sad, right?” 

It’s weird hearing Joel say something like this. Joel who never talked about feelings or emotions or anything like that. Who was stoic and silent when it came to things like this. Not unemotional or anything like that, he just wasn’t raised that way. He let you know he cared in other ways. No words needed.

“About what?” 

“About what was taken from you.”

Snow crunches beneath their boots and the laughter of people grows distant. Silence wraps around them for a moment until Joel clears his throat and speaks up again.

“When I arrived here and Tommy told me about the baby I felt so angry. Not really at him. I was angry at the world. That he got to have this when it got ripped away from me. That in all this shitshow he got something good and precious and all I got was — just pain. I didn’t think it was okay to have a baby in these conditions but not because I didn’t want Tommy to have this, I was just scared that he’d have to go through what I had to go through. You get to be angry at life, you just can’t let it consume you.” 

In another time she would’ve commented on how weird it is to hear Joel open up and be vulnerable. This is not that time though. At this moment all she can focus on is that one word “Baby”.

They’re having a baby. 

“Are you okay?”

“Huh?” her eyes snap up towards Joel who regards her with concern. “Yeah, I — I’m good. Just tired and this is all so much all at once.” 

“I get it. But you get to sleep now. That’s your new house.” 

The house is a small one-story building that looks like it used to be painted a vibrant shade of blue once but has now faded with time. 

“I live over there,” Joel points out across the street and two houses down. “Tommy and Maria live around the corner, yellow house on the right.” 

“Thank you, Joel, for everything.” 

“Of course. You’re family. You always will be family, you hear me?” 

(Y/N) replies with a half-hearted nod which earns her a nudge against the shoulder. 

“I said do you hear me?  You know you will always be a part of this family, right?” 

“Yes, I do. Thanks, Joel.” 

“Sure. Now go get some sleep. You’re safe here. I promise.” 

Sleep doesn’t come to her though. Her body is tired, her mind is exhausted but sleep avoids her. 

When you’re always on the lookout for danger, never allowed to truly let your guard down, your body gets used to it. For a long time, she couldn’t afford to get a good night of deep sleep. Now that she can, her body has unlearned just how to do it, it seems.

So she makes herself a cup of tea, something they have here for everyone to enjoy in their own home, and sits down on that big comfortable couch in the living room with nothing but the ticking of the clock filling the silence and her thoughts keeping her company.

Tommy is going to be a dad. There’s no doubt in (Y/N)’s mind that he’ll be good at it. He is loving and fun but he can put his foot down when needed and he’s as protective as they come, both Millers are.

And yet — 

Back when they were just teenagers (Y/N) had this stupid little vision of a future, one where Tommy and her realized that they were meant to be. In that vision, they got married on her grandparent's farm. They moved into a house next to Joel and Sarah. They bought a dog — or maybe 3. And one day she’d wake him up with kisses and tell him that she felt off for a while and finally took a test this morning. In that vision, Tommy looked at her with his beautiful Tommy Miller smile and kissed her stupid. And they both cried from happiness about what their future would hold. A little baby equal parts Tommy and (Y/N).

She feels silly basking in that little teenage daydream right now. It’s not ever going to happen. That life is gone and buried. Time to write a eulogy to a life that never was. 

A quick knock pulls her from her thoughts and as she opens the door Tommy’s dark eyes look back at her.

“Hey, sorry did I wake you up?” 

“No. Can’t sleep.” 

Tommy nods as if he understands, she wonders if this place already existed when he arrived here or if he helped build it. So many questions and yet she feels like none of them matter at this moment.

She motions for him to step inside, desperate to close the door again and banish the cold from her house.

“Why’s that? Anything wrong with the house? The bed? We can get you relocated, get you a new bed if — “

“No, Tommy. The house is great, the bed is great. It’s none of that. I think it’s just me. My brain and body have not realized yet that this is a safe place.” 

“Oh, oh yeah. Sorry, It’s been a while since I was out there. I mean permanently. It must’ve been rough.” 

Rough. It was rough but at some point, you grow so tired and cold, it just is. You grow numb and maybe that’s the most dangerous feeling of them all.

“Mmh.”

They sit down on the couch and it feels strange. She hates this feeling. This man has been in her life since she was a teenager. They’ve been through so much together and yet, sitting here after all this time, it feels like they are so unfamiliar. Not strangers but close.

“If I had known you were still out there I would have kept looking for you. I — they said everything further north than — “

“Tommy it’s okay.”

“No! I need you to know that if I had even the smallest flicker of hope that you were still alive I would’ve kept looking. Every night for a long time all I could see when I closed my eyes was you. And I felt like the biggest coward on this planet because I loved you and I stopped looking for you. It’s just after Sarah, I didn’t have any hope left.” 

“You thought I was dead and you had to keep yourself alive. I don’t blame you for anything Tommy.” 

“Well, I do!” There are tears in his eyes threatening to fall. She’s only ever seen him cry one time and that was at his mom’s funeral. “If I would’ve just continued on I could’ve found you. I could’ve — we could’ve…” 

He trails off. (Y/N) wonders if he even knew where he wanted to go with that statement in the first place. 

“I loved you, (Y/N). So much. I just want you to know that. ” 

Loved. Loved. Loved. Past tense. 

Of course past tense you idiot. He doesn’t even know you anymore. It’s been too long. So long. It feels like another lifetime altogether.

“I know that Tommy, you told me every day on the phone.” 

She remembers those phone calls like it was yesterday. Her grandparents called her a loved-up teenager, and maybe it felt like it too. But that was more. That was Tommy. Her Tommy. 

Until the phones stopped working and death came knocking on her door.

“I’m just wondering what if — what if I just kept looking a little longer. I could’ve found you and maybe we’d — “

“Tommy, stop! Those what ifs, they ain't doing either of us any good.”

“Do you not think about it?”

How can he ask that? How can he not know that it's all she's thinking about?

“Of course I do. It’s all I think about. But if I let myself get lost in it then it'll kill me. What if I never went to Montana in the first place? What if I came back to look for you? What if you found me? What if what if what if. The truth of it all is that it didn't happen. You have a family now, Tommy. A wife and a  -  a baby. And it hurts to know that if things had been different maybe that could've been me you married and me you had a baby with. But it's not. And I do find comfort in the fact that you're happy. I just want you to be happy.”

Tommy smells like woodfire and winter as he wraps her up in his arms and buries his face in her hair. “I want you to be happy too.”

“And I will be. I am. I got you back and I got Joel. I got parts of my family back.”

“I will always love you, (Y/N). Even if I love you differently now. “

It's an unshakable truth. Love doesn't go away. It warps and changes but it never vanishes.

“I know that. I missed you, Tommy Miller.”

“Miss you too. Now … do you really hate the mustache? Does it really make me look like my dad?”

She hasn't heard her own laughter in so long. It feels magical. It feels like healing.

“Holy shit”.

“Told you they're going all out.”

The big barn is all decked out in string lights and candles. The round tables set up in circles around the dance floor all hold a beautiful floral centerpiece.

“Well glad to hear even in the apocalypse event management is still a booming business.”

Joel nudges her shoulder and hides his smile behind the rim of his beer bottle as he takes a sip.

“I wish Sarah could see this.” 

“Yeah me too.” Joel agrees, his voice sounding strained. Then adds: “You'd make her dance with you, huh?”

“Oh absolutely. And she'd pretend to hate it but that girl was a dancer at heart no matter how much she tried to deny it.”

The smile she gets out of Joel now is a different one. That one isn't brought on by teasing or a bad joke. That one is all love. Shared love for someone so deeply missed. That smile means a lot more.

Maria and Tommy make their way towards Joel and (Y/N), smiles on their faces.

“You made it! The boys weren't sure if you were up for it yet but I was hoping you'd show yourself.”

Maria's words never sound like there is any hidden meaning or agenda behind them. She's honest and true and just so straight-up nice it's hard to comprehend. 

“I'm not going to lie, it's a bit weird. Not you guys just … the whole situation.  Going from surviving day by day to a party with lights and drinks and music.”

“Is it a good weird?” Maria asks, a look of concern on her face.

“It's a great weird.”

“Good, I'm glad. Now I heard some stories about you back in the day and if I'm not mistaken someone here still owes you a dance.”

Back when they were just kids, Tommy and (Y/N) had planned to attend prom together. Just as friends, nothing more. Silent pining included. Unfortunately, his reckless driving landed Tommy at the hospital just a week before the big day. 2 days later he came limping out of that very hospital, a cast on his foot and crutches under his arms. 

“Sorry about that,” he said as he slid into the passenger seat of (Y/N)’s car. “I guess I owe you a dance, huh?” 

She has almost forgotten about that memory, it feels so distant. Like it happened to someone else and all she got to be is a voyeur in that person’s love story. The fact that Tommy remembers though, means so much to her. And not only does he remember, but he deems the memory so important he even told his wife about it.

“I guess so.” 

“I made sure he didn’t go slipping on any ice or falling off a horse before tonight. Won’t let him get out of the dance a second time.” 

Maria’s words make (Y/N) laugh. It feels so good to laugh. Maybe this can be a good thing. Tommy and Maria and Joel and the whole Jackson settlement. Maybe it doesn’t have to be all heartbreak.

“ Oh, come on. Is this how it’s gonna be now? You two are gonna team up against me?” 

“Three of us, actually.” Joel jumps in making Tommy scoff though a small smirk is pulling the corner of his lip upwards. 

“Whatever.” he holds out his hand towards (Y/N) and in his dark eyes the fairy lights are reflected like tiny stars in an inky night sky. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

There’s a man with a guitar sitting on the little stage at the other end of the room, and as Tommy and (Y/N) reach the middle of the dancefloor, his fingers begin to strum the very familiar cords of a song she hasn’t thought about it years. 

“Did you know he would play this?” 

Tommy doesn’t even try to hide his smirk. He even looks a little proud of himself. It breaks and mends her heart all at once. “Might’ve put in a request with him.” 

“They say that these are not the best of times But they're the only times I've ever known”

It’s a hit straight to the chest, hearing this song again. The last time she heard it was that fateful fourth of July. When life was easy and the earth was kind. 

These are not the best of times, Billy Joel is right about that, but as Tommy slowly sways them both to the melody, she thinks that maybe this isn’t all bad. She is here, she’s found him again and the love is still there. Even if it is different now. She has him back. Has Joel back too. And maybe as time goes by she can grow to see Maria as an extension of her little family. A friend even. She sure is lovable, that’s for sure. 

“In another life, we would’ve danced to this song at our wedding.” Tommy’s voice softly murmurs into her ear. “I would’ve loved to be your husband.” 

And while she wants to pull him closer and tell him that he still can, that she is here now and the future they imagined can still happen, the rational part of her knows that those dreams are officially dead and buried. With their loved ones and their old selves.

“And I would’ve loved to be your wife.” 

“I’m sorry we — “

“Tommy, it’s okay. I’m glad for that little time we got. And look, we found each other again. I got you back and I got Joel and maybe a whole new family too,” (Y/N) says, and lets her eyes wander around the room for a moment. “It’s not what I envisioned sure, but It’s more than a lot of people have. I think all things considered I am very lucky.” 

“It's either sadness or euphoria.” 

Maybe Billy Joel wasn’t completely right when he wrote that song, she thinks.

Within all the heartbreak of coming to terms with the fact that she will never have the future she wanted, there is hope and joy in knowing that she found a place where a future is possible. Not the one she thought she’d get but a good one either way.

Maybe Billy Joel was wrong.

Maybe there can be sadness and euphoria all at once. 

[inbloomwriting]

most important part of the writing process actually is when you loop a single song on max volume and stare at the word document and imagine the characters doing things for 14 hours. this is known as getting in the zone

[inbloomwriting]

You know what genuinely pisses me off?

The Ted Lasso finale that thought Roy would punch Jamie.

We’ve seen these two in each others faces, at each others throats, but it’s never been a fist fight.

Never true physical violence.

The threat of it, sure. But Roy and Jamie have never actually swung on each other.

And yeah Roy would need to learn to reign in his temper, and Jamie sometimes needs to learn how not to provoke, but a Roy Kent who saw James Tartt Sr go after his own son?

The Roy Kent who hugged Jamie tight because it was what he needed?

He would never and I mean never swing on Jamie.

Not even over Keeley.

(Which I maintain was an absurd and reductive idea in the first place)

Roy Kent would never hit Jamie Tartt, and he’d certainly never encourage him to forgive his abusive father (looking at you Ted you fucking idiot) and I’ll never forgive the finale for taking these two characters so far back they’re nearly unrecognizable.

[inbloomwriting]

Hi friends,

would it be okay for you guys if I posted a oneshot about a character not from Ted Lasso?

I will still write for our football boys, I just had a spark of inspiration for another character and would like to write that one first.

If you want me to keep this blog Ted Lasso focused let me know and i'll post it on a different blog :)

Love you♥

[inbloomwriting]

Just read the first two chapters of everything to me… can’t wait to continue this story!

Thank you so much for reading ♥

I am working on part 3 right now and I really hope to get it out quicker than I did part 2 :D

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 2

Chapter two - Blueberry & Kidney Bean

Chapter 1

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.6k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. I tagged everyone who asked me to do it when I posted part 1. Please let me know if you want to be taken off or added to the taglist. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

The store smells like dust and cardboard and old carpet. It's not necessarily a bad smell, it just doesn't live up to her memories.

She remembers the perpetual scent of menthol cigarettes and some kind of cheap men's perfume wafting through the air. The store used to smell like her dad and now it doesn't. And that just makes it all even more real.

Boxes upon boxes litter the room, filled with records. Some older, some newer. Guitars adorn one wall while the others are covered in posters from tours that happened long ago, some even before she was born.

There is something comforting about being here. It’s like stepping back into the past. Long nights watching Dad and his friends play their guitars after store-closing. Discovering new bands whenever a new shipment of records came in. And yes - she is the first to admit that in her younger years, she mostly chose the records by how cool the cover looked. 

It’s also memories of Dad getting caught up in the after-hours jam sessions and forgetting about her dance recital and that one time he threw a guitar at the window out of anger that a shipment of records got lost. It took him months to get the window replaced. She could probably still trace exactly where the crack used to be. 

Being here is very reminiscent in all the good and bad ways. But it’s a warped version of the past. One that’s laced with all the knowledge she has now. Like a movie that you’ve seen a million times.

“I don’t think pregnant women are supposed to be doing that!” 

Jamie’s voice cuts through the nostalgia-induced fog like a sunbeam through the clouds. And it also gives her a little heart attack as the only sound filling the room up until now had been her moving around and the soft tunes of an Eric Clapton record playing in the background.

“Jesus fuck! You scared me. I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to startle pregnant women either and give them heart attacks.” 

He looks at her with those big expressive eyes of his and a comically overdone pout on his lips. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But seriously give me that.” 

He’s so quick to take the box of records from her hands (Y/N) hardly has time to process what’s going on. 

Quite honestly, his worry is a bit misplaced here but she appreciates the sentiment even if he might be a little overly cautious at that moment. It feels nice to be cared for. 

“You know I’m pregnant, not sick, right? I can carry stuff.” 

“Yeah but why would you if you got me carrying it for you?” 

He has a point, she has to give him that. 

“Fair enough. Those go over there in the corner please.” 

Jamie follows her order without hesitation and, after setting the box down in its designated place, his eyes dart across the room and light up with childlike wonder and curiosity.

“This used to be your dad’s place, yeah? It looks really neat with all them posters and shit. Like stepping into an old person’s mind but like a cool old person that buys you alcohol when you’re 15 and lets you watch horror movies when your mum said no.” 

Of all the adjectives in the world, (Y/N) wouldn’t ever think of using the word “cool” to describe her dad. He was creative and fun and eccentric and stubborn — but cool? 

Then again he was her dad and no one ever likes to think of their own parents as cool. Oh god, will their kid think she’s uncool?! 

“Uh yeah, the shop and the apartment right above us. He owned it, now I do. I’m trying to get it all fixed up and ready to be sold.”

“What? Why?” 

There is something to be said about Jamie’s face and his absolute inability to mask his emotions. Everything he thinks and feels is mirrored twice as vividly on his face. He’s all furrowed brows and pouty lips. 

“I mean — it’s a record store. People don’t really buy records anymore. Be honest, when was the last time you bought one instead of just streaming the music?” 

“Like two weeks ago.” 

“Fuck off, no you didn’t!” 

“Uh — yeah, I did. Olivia Rodrigo if you must know.” 

A soft giggle falls from (Y/N)’s lips. How fitting for Jamie to buy an album full of teenage angst. 

“Well, you’re one of very few people though. In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to sell. I’d keep it open. Instead of selling instruments, it’d turn that part of the shop into a little stage with a coffee counter or a bar. Host open mic nights and shine a spotlight on undiscovered artists. But the world isn’t perfect and there is no way I can afford to turn that vision into reality so really there’s no use in letting myself get too caught up in it.” 

There is pity in his eyes and she hates it. She doesn’t want pity, not his or anyone else’s. Has seen enough of it, especially lately. If she had received just one more “Sorry for your loss” card in the mail from relatives she hadn’t seen in decades, she probably would’ve stabbed a fork in her own eye. Pity does no good to no one. 

“Anyway, Jamie. Not that I don’t enjoy hanging out with you, it’s kind of necessary if we want to get this whole beings-friends-thing right, but uh — what are you doing here?” 

“Jesus, can’t a guy just come around to say hi to his baby? “ 

She thinks the way he says the word “Baby” in his thick accent is surprisingly and undeniably adorable. As if it ends in an “eh” instead of a “y”.

“By the way, they’re as big as a blueberry now.” 

And the way he’s keeping track of the baby's growth gets her right in the heart. For some reason, this seems to come so naturally to him when it all still feels weird and foreign and surreal to her. As if it were happening to someone else and she’s just a mere spectator. The idea that something as small as a blueberry will one day turn into a proper baby, a child, a teenager … a whole ass adult - is so wild to her. Almost incomprehensible. A person with their own feelings and dreams and personality. (Y/N) wonders if at any point in this pregnancy, she'll wake up and it'll all just make sense or if that only comes once she's holding the baby in her arms.

“That's cute. Doesn't answer my question though. What brings you here?”

A shadow of something flickers across Jamie’s face. Something unreadable and unfamiliar. Something that makes (Y/N) feel a sense of dread bubbling up in her stomach.

“I uh — I can’t do this.”

And there it is. That unfamiliar shadow is now a metaphorical atom bomb, a mushroom cloud of all that could have been and won’t be.

“Oh okay. I mean no, not okay. This sucks actually. You said you wanted to be part of the baby’s life and now you’re bailing? That’s a shit move, Jamie. You’re a right prick for pulling that crap.” 

“What? Oh no!” his eyes widen as the realization sets in. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well then what did you mean? Cause you’re truly giving me a heart attack right now. Second one for today. You really need to start working on your conversation starters.” 

She had given him the chance to opt out of being a dad, to not be a part of the baby’s life. It seemed like the right thing to do and, foolishly, (Y/N) had believed that she’d be okay with him doing just that. In this very moment though, she feels everything but okay. The idea of Jamie changing his mind is terrifying. 

Sometimes you don’t realize just how much you need something — or someone until you’re faced with the possibility of losing them.

“I mean, I can’t do this alone. I need to tell someone. All I keep thinking about is the baby and I feel like I am going to explode any second now. I know we can’t tell everyone yet ‘cause of — well you know, things going wrong and stuff. But I need to tell someone. You got to tell Rebecca and your mum, I think it’s only fair I get to tell two people as well, yeah?”

A sense of relief floods her. Starts in her toes and fills her all the way to the top of her head. He wants this — wants the baby. It’s not just her in this. It’s nice to know you have someone in your corner. It’s also scary. Because he deserves to know just whose team he’s on. And being vulnerable fucking sucks. 

“Jamie, that’s fine. Absolutely you can tell your mum.” 

“And Simon? You got two people so — “

“I didn’t though.” 

“Uh yes, you did. I know you told Rebecca.” 

“That’s right.”

“And your mum too”.

The silence that follows his words is deafening. Being vulnerable means also admitting guilt. It means owning up to all of your mistakes. Though we are not the sum of our mistakes, they are what help shape the person we become. And (Y/N) really doesn’t think they make her a very good one.

“And your mum too?” 

More silence.

“You didn’t tell your mum? Why not? “

To his credit, Jamie looks truly surprised and confused. There is no judgment there, just absolute bewilderment and that signature softness that rounds out his features and settles in his eyes whenever Jamie talks to her about something serious. Granted they’ve not had that many conversations but she hopes that softness stays. She hopes that maybe their baby can have those soft, gentle eyes too.

“I’m not sure. I think I’m scared. My mum and I have a — complicated relationship. I disappoint her, she judges me. You know, the usual.” 

“You think she’ll be disappointed because we're having a baby? Is it because of me?”

(Y/N) shrugs, breaking eye contact and fixing her gaze on the old grey carpet with the ugly 90s pattern. What if those soft eyes can look straight through her, see all the ugly parts and the insecurities? That’s too scary for now. Too much too soon.

“No, it has nothing to do with you. Think she’ll just be disappointed I didn’t get pregnant according to the timeline she dreamed up for my life when I was like 2 years old. Had it all planned out for me and I never stuck to it.” 

Jamie is quiet for a moment but (Y/N) doesn’t dare to look back up at him. She can’t deal with any more pity.

“Well if you want to practice telling a mum, we can start with mine.”

“Huh?” 

“You can come to Manchester with me if you want. To tell my mum. We’ll have one mum down then, makes it easier to do it a second time. It’s science.” 

Jamie has the fascinating quality of making you believe in his words just by being so undeniably charming and because he believes in them himself. He makes it look easy when it is everything but.

“And if things don’t go well with your mum at least you’ll know you have at least one mum you can rely on, even if it’s not your own. She raised me pretty much by herself so she knows a thing or two about babies and parenting and stuff.” 

The mocking raise of (Y/N)’s right eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed by Jamie who opens his lips to a silent gasp and clutches his chest with an overly dramatic gesture. 

“What? You saying I didn’t turn out perfectly?”

“No,” she laughs, a lightness festering in her chest. Like the first rays of sunshine after a cold winter that never seemed to end. Like a glass of wine after a long day at work. Like your favorite song on the radio at the exact moment you need it most. “I think you turned out exactly the way you were supposed to.” 

“Thanks,” Jamie says with that cheeky smile playing on his lips that makes him look a little younger than he actually is. Then he dares to wink at her and it’s a little annoying but also insanely charming. “Not sure you meant it as a compliment but I am taking it. Now when are you free for a trip up to Manchester?” 

(Y/N)’s been on a lot of road trips around the country when she was younger. She’s even spent a whole summer traveling Europe, partially by train but most of the time was spent stuffed in a Fiat Punto with 3 of her friends and all their luggage. It was stuffy, it was chaotic and it was immensely fun. None of those road trips ever involved a shiny black Aston Martin Rapide though. 

Or a famous footballer dressed in the ugliest lime green sweater (Y/N) has ever seen. 

“That’s all the luggage you got?” Jamie questions as he moves the black shades off of his eyes and sets them on the top of his head, holding back some of his hair. It shouldn’t work so well but it does. 

“I mean, we’re only staying for a night right? Why? Should I have brought more? How much did you pack?” 

He glances at her, then towards the car, and back at her. A sheepish look crosses his face before being replaced by his childlike cheekiness. “That’s confidential. Don’t worry about it, yeah?” 

“I got my ginger lollies, that’s all that matters really.” 

“You feeling alright?” 

“Mh, I’m good. Just pregnant.” 

His eyes drop down to her stomach for just a second before he nods his head in what (Y/N) can only describe as a mix of pride and satisfaction. “Yeah, you are.” 

That’s new. Well not new-new but it hasn’t happened since the day of the funeral. That tingly feeling in her stomach that has fuck all to do with the baby and everything with how the baby got there. Yes, Jamie is hot and (Y/N) is the first to admit as much but there has been so much stress and chaos and she hardly had time to think about anything but surviving and making sure not to completely lose herself in bad visions of what-ifs that her brain has had no time to process any feelings of arousal or lust. That look he just gave her though, that one made her remember it for just a second.

“You sure you’re alright?” 

Jamie’s voice shakes her from her daydream and brings her back to the real world, her eyes focusing back on the obscene car parked in front of her tiny apartment building looking so insanely out of place.

“Uh yes, I’m fine. I just — sometimes I forget that you’re famous.” 

Jamie regards her for a moment before shrugging his shoulder and grabbing the bag from her hands. “I don’t. It’s fun. Now come on, let’s goooooo.” 

His voice is dipped in excitement and there’s a bounce in his step. If this is how the prospect of seeing his mother makes him feel and behave, she must be one lovely woman. Whenever (Y/N) thinks of her own mother her chest fills with tiny metaphorical icicles. Sharp and rough and painful. It’s all regret and judgment and disapproval. It’s “You gained weight”, “you look tired”, and “You should really look into getting a new job”. Daggers disguised as roses. Stabs right to the heart in the name of being honest. “I just care about you, because I love you, because I am your mother!” 

If there is one thing (Y/N) knows for sure, it’s that she will never ever find the need to resort to criticism and thinly veiled malice in order to show her child that she cares. They will know. Every single day. Because she’ll make sure to show them. Every single day in all the big and tiny ways a person can show their love. 

“Kidney Bean?”

“Kidney Bean. And apparently, the baby is sprouting webbed fingers and toes right now. Oh, and it’s starting to move!” 

“Can you feel that?” 

“No, not yet.” 

“It’s mental. Last week she was the size of a blueberry and now she’s a kidney bean. Kid’s growing up too fast.” 

It’s true. There is so much happening all at once and it’s almost impossible to really process it all. Suddenly there is a tiny spark of a human inside her. Not really a baby yet but a baby to her. And it's moving and developing and changing every second of every day. Fucking insane.

“Wait … you said she. You think it’s a girl?”

Maybe it’s the sunlight casting a glow through the windshield but (Y/N) is almost certain she can just about make out a blush dusting Jamie’s cheeks. 

“Dunno.”

“Jamie Tartt, do you want to be a girl dad?” 

He glances at (Y/N) through the corner of his eyes for just a moment but it’s enough for her to see the sincerity in him. This is something he’s thought about before. Learning new things about Jamie is fascinating.

“Ah,  it’s stupid, really. It’s — It’s dumb or whatever.” 

“No, come on, don't go shy on me now. Tell me.” 

He takes a deep breath. A moment passes then another. There is no rush. Sometimes silly thoughts are the result of harsh truths. 

“Told you my dad was a prick. Like the biggest piece of shit walking this earth, yeah? And I knew that all my life. Thing is I still tried to impress him. I just — I wanted him to like me so badly. Just felt wrong that me own dad didn’t care about me and that made me angry. And I kept that anger inside me for so long. Sometimes when I think about the baby and the future I am scared that if I have a son that anger will jump over to him. Like maybe all Tartt men are cursed or some shit like that. But if I had a little girl maybe that would make it easier for me to be a good dad. I don’t mind either way, obviously, but the idea of having a son scares me.” 

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been with her so far and by the way he clenches his jaw and grabs onto the steering wheel just a little tighter, (Y/N) can tell this isn’t easy on him. It means a lot that he shares this part of him with her anyway. It feels like they are actually becoming friends. So opening up to him in return is only half as horrifying. 

“When I was a kid, maybe 11 or 12, I wrote a short story for school and I won an award. They did this big ceremony thing where the 3 finalists got to read their stories out loud for an audience and then receive their prizes. My mum didn’t show up, not sure if it was because she stayed longer at the office and didn’t care enough to leave on time or if she just didn’t feel like getting out of the house. Point is, she wasn’t there. When I came home that night I was sad, obviously, and I was also pissed. Because why the fuck couldn’t she take one night off to come see me succeed at something even if it wasn’t something she deemed worthy of praise. 

So I yelled at her and I’m sure I said some hurtful things. But I was so devastated and angry and I needed an outlet for once. She called me ungrateful but I was used to that, she always called me ungrateful. Then she looked at me with that look of absolute resignation and malice and she said that she hopes I have a daughter like me one day and that she makes me realize how hard it is to love me. 

When I think of the baby, sometimes I see a little girl too. One that I will love so much she never has to doubt it for a single second. And I will also prove my mother wrong. Because it will be so easy to love my little girl and it would’ve been so easy to love me, her little girl.” 

It’s the first time she’s ever said those words out loud. Truly, (Y/N) had not expected for them to come out in an Aston Martin, on the way to meet her baby’s father’s mother but life doesn’t seem to care for plans very much these days.

Softly, as if to not startle her, Jamie places his hand on hers, squeezing gently.

“I think your mum is a right bitch.” 

“Thanks. I think your dad is a huge asshole.” 

“We’re gonna be better than them, right?” 

It’s not really a question. It’s more of a promise.

“We will. I know it.”

His hand doesn’t leave hers for a good long while. 

The nerves don’t hit her until they pull up to the quaint little house with the white front. There’s a rose bush to the side and some kids playing football just across the way. The nerves don’t hit her until Jamie puts the car in park but when they do, they hit her like a freight train.

“Woah, you alright?” 

“Huh?” 

“You look all pale and like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Do you have to puke?”

A chuckle falls from her lips at the absurdity of it all. In all honesty, she’s not met a lot of parents yet but the few she did meet were parents of actual partners. People she had been dating for a while. It was a natural progression of steps. This is all wrong and sideways and topsy-turvy. You’re supposed to meet the mum first and then get pregnant. 

Again with the life and the plans. 

“I’m fucking nervous.” 

“Hah,” Jamie laughs. The audacity of this guy. “You’re nervous to meet my mum? Why? She’s an angel.”

“Do you not know how intimidating that is? Like, if she was shit I wouldn’t care but she sounds wonderful and I want her to like me. No, I need her to like me. Desperately. And I can only imagine what she thinks of me already. Some floozy who gets knocked up and really just wants your money.” 

Before she even fully realizes what’s happening, (Y/N) feels Jamie’s hands on her cheeks, framing her face in warmth.

“Calm down, please. I promise it’ll be alright. My mum will love you, I know it. Probably more than she loves me. Actually no that’s a lie, but she will love you and she will love our baby. Promise.”

“She’s not gonna judge me for — you know. Getting pregnant even though we’re not dating or anything.” 

“My mum was married to my dad, worst person on planet Earth. Don’t think she’s in any position to judge you. It’ll be alright, trust me.” 

She hardly knows this man and yet she can’t help but do just that. Trust him.

The first thing (Y/N) notices about Georgie is her smile. A smile that is so familiar because it looks exactly like Jamie’s smile. Warm and radiant and true. A part of (Y/N) hopes that their baby inherits that same smile. Partially because it’s a really good smile and partially because maybe that could help Jamie realize that he is more than the sum of his father’s problems and mistakes. He is all his mother’s boy.

“Oh, I missed you, my baby.” 

Georgie wraps her arms around Jamie’s middle, getting swallowed by his frame for a moment. There’s no denying that part of (Y/N)’s heart breaks a little seeing how loving of a relationship these two have and wondering where she and her own mother went wrong.

And as it so happens with so many kids that have never been loved quite the way they deserved, (Y/N) can’t help but search for the problem in herself. 

“Yeah sorry for not visiting earlier. You know how it is with training and stuff.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I know my boy is busy being a star.” 

The words hold a slight mocking, never mean but in the way that only people who are close can tease each other. You know every word comes laced with deep affection, with pride, with love.

“And it’s so nice to meet you too. I’m Georgie.” 

It takes a second for (Y/N) to realize that Jamie’s mum is now talking to her directly.

“I uh — oh thank you. Nice to meet you too, I’m (Y/N).” 

Georgie smells like mint chewing gum and floral perfume as she pulls (Y/N) into a hug. She’s soft and gentle and it’s been the first hug from a mother (Y/N) has received in quite some time.

“Sorry, didn’t even ask if you’re a hugger.”

“Oh that’s alright, don’t worry about it.” 

She’s not a hugger, never really was, but there is something about Georgie granting her some affection that isn’t all that bad. Maybe their kid can have at least one grandmother who cares and who isn’t completely disgusted by the idea of showing any kind of positive emotions.

“Jamie never brings girlfriends around so I’m a bit out of my element here if I’m being honest.” 

“Mum we’re not — she’s not.” Jamie takes a big breath before starting again “(Y/N) and I are friends, yeah? Told you about it on the phone.” 

“Right, right. Well, you don’t bring around a lot of friends either so same difference, really. Now come inside will you, I’m sure we got a lot to catch up on.”

Oh if only she knew how true that sentiment really is.

There are pictures of Jamie staring back at (Y/N) from every corner of the house and Georgie leads them through the hallway and towards the kitchen. Every wall and every shelf holds a memory of him at one point in his life. Gap toothed with a football in hand smiling, surrounded by a field of tulips arm wrapped around his mother’s shoulder, his teenage self smoldering at the camera with an even more questionable haircut than the one he is sporting right now. Oh to be loved in a way that every past version of you is being remembered.

As they reach the kitchen a sweet scent fills the room when a man clad in an apron turns around and faces them with a huge smile playing on his face. He has a dorky kind of charm to him that immediately puts you at ease. Maybe it’s just the frilly apron, maybe it’s the big oven gloves, maybe it’s the smile. Either way, (Y/N) thinks that if they take the news well, her kid might have truly lucked out on one side of the grandparents department. 

“Jamie, welcome home.” 

“Hi Simon, thanks, mate. Glad to be back. This is (Y/N).” 

“The friend, right.” Simon says and shoots Georgie a look that neither of them misses. Subtlety doesn’t seem to be one of his best qualities. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you too. It smells amazing in here.” 

“I found this new recipe for honey blondies. Not sure if they'll be any good but I guess we'll find out. If you guys want to go have a seat, I'll come bring them over.”

“Actually,” Jamie speaks up while nervously fiddling with his hands. “I was hoping we could have a talk before we do anything else. There’s something I need to tell you both.” 

Imagining the hypothetical scenario of telling your mum you’re having a baby and actually doing it really are two completely different things it seems. Gone is all of Jamie’s confidence and replaced with a whole lot of anxiety. 

“You're worrying me, Jamie. What has you acting so serious? Did you get someone pregnant or something?”

Georgie's words are followed by a thick awkward silence. It's heavy and suffocating and it makes (Y/N) feel uneasy in both her heart and her head.

It doesn't take long for Jamie’s parents to realize what his silence means. Everything communicated by not saying a single word.

“Oh, fuck.”

And there's nothing to add to Georgie's reaction. It's the exact same one (Y/N) had when she first saw those faint blue lines.

Of all the possible outcomes and ways this day could’ve gone, (Y/N) had not expected to find herself staring at not only a curly-haired Roy Kent but also come face to face with two very persuasive arguments belonging to no other than Keeley fucking Jones. 

“This is surreal.” 

The posters stare back at her all crinkled paper and bleached ink, as if to mock her silently. 

“Ah, well I told them to redecorate when I moved out, think they just haven’t gotten around to it yet.” 

A light dusting of pink settles on the apples of Jamie’s cheeks as well as the tips of his ears. This man can’t hide his emotions for the life of him. It’s quite adorable really. 

“Do they know?” 

“Does who know?” 

“Roy and Keeley. Do they know you have their pictures up in your room?”

“Well no and It’s not my room anymore, is it? ‘S not like I have ‘em hanging at home. Put these up ages ago.” 

A giggle slips through (Y/N)’s lips at his desperate attempt to talk himself out of this situation. 

“It’s okay, Jamie. I won’t tell.” 

“There’s nothing to tell, alright?” he responds in mock offense before sitting down on his childhood bed next to (Y/N). “Just liked boobs and football and those two were the best those fields had to offer, yeah? Can’t really blame me.” 

“Not much has changed has it?”

He shrugs his shoulders in response “Nah. Still like boobs and football but no way I’d put up a poster of granddad’s ugly mug nowadays.”

From the few times they talked about his job, including his teammates and coaches, (Y/N) was able to gather that Jamie’s relationship with Roy is something special. Odd, but special. Maybe that’s what happens when you end up working with your childhood idol. Either way, no matter how much shit he likes to talk about him, it’s clear that Jamie respects and admires Roy a great deal still.

“And uh — and Keeley?” 

“What about her?” 

“Is she — are you — how are things?” 

She still remembers that crestfallen look on his face on the day of the funeral. That infinite sadness in his eyes. She hadn’t put two and two together at that moment but later that night it all clicked. Keeley was the woman he was in love with, the woman who did not love him back. And while (Y/N) knows that she and Jamie are only bound together by happenstance and fate — if one chooses to believe in that, and that there is nothing romantic about their situation, it does sting a little to know that the man you’re having a baby with is in love with someone else.

“We’re good. We’re friends, think that’s all we’ll ever be. Her and Roy, they’re happy and I don’t want to ruin it for either of them. Keeley and I just were not right together.” 

“And you’re okay with that?” 

He nods his head, a small smile playing on his lips “Yeah, I’m alright with it. If I hadn’t made a fool of myself at the funeral then you and I wouldn’t have — you know, and then we wouldn’t be having a baby. Little Kidney Bean.” 

“That’s true. Your mum seemed excited.” 

“Hah, sorry about her. She can be intense.” 

Intense might be the understatement of the century. It took her approximately 2.3 seconds to get over the initial shock of the announcement and really process it before Georgie let out a scream of pure excitement and joy and wrapped both Jamie and (Y/N) up in her arms. She didn’t fully let go for a good 20 minutes. It was intense. It was also phenomenal.

“Don’t apologize. I am so glad she took it so well, Simon too. At least now I’ll have the certainty that my baby will have one set of loving grandparents at least.” 

“Hey,” Jamie says and nudges her shoulder with his “We’ll sort out telling your mum next, okay. I’m sure it’ll go better than you think. And if not we can always call up my mum for some more hugs and a pep talk. Whatever happens, you won’t have to do it alone. I promise.” 

For what is probably the first time in her life (Y/N) lets herself believe that there truly is someone else having her back, undisputedly and all the way. It’s unfamiliar. It’s a little scary. It’s also wonderful.

“Thanks, Jamie. I appreciate it, I really do. Think so far we’re doing alright, huh?” 

“I’d say so. Two sexy parents and a little Kidney Bean.” 

Their laughter echoes through Jamie’s childhood bedroom for quite a while longer until at some point it stills and gives room to soft breathing and quiet snores. The bed isn’t meant for two grown adults and really Jamie truly meant to sleep on the couch but somewhere between talks of baby clothes and childhood memories, eyes grew heavy and tired, and soon enough both of them are fast asleep.

Just them and their little Kidney Bean 

— and a curly-haired Roy Kent 

— and Keeley’s boobs.

taglist (@ me if you want to be taken off or added): @captainfrisbee - @scaramou - @mischiefmanaged71 - @rexorangecouny - @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog - @tweasley20 - @dreamtrydoforkinggood - @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo - @heletsmelovehim - @snubug - @katdahlali - @oldglitterstory - @lalla-04p - @aiyaiy

[inbloomwriting]

It took me a bit longer than expected but chapter 2 is done. I still need to spellcheck but I promise to upload it tomorrow ... or rather later today as it's 1 am in Germany.

So see you in a few hours.

Get ready for 5.6k words of fluff and angst ♥

Hi friends,

Good news! I am making a lot of progress on chapter 2 of Everything to me. I am trying to get it uploaded tonight or tomorrow BUT that is not a promise. I am going to see if I can catch the Aurora tonight and tomorrow is mother's day so I will be a bit busy. That being said I am trying my best.

Bottom line is: I am writing again and it feels good ♥

[inbloomwriting]

Hi friends,

Good news! I am making a lot of progress on chapter 2 of Everything to me. I am trying to get it uploaded tonight or tomorrow BUT that is not a promise. I am going to see if I can catch the Aurora tonight and tomorrow is mother's day so I will be a bit busy. That being said I am trying my best.

Bottom line is: I am writing again and it feels good ♥

[inbloomwriting]

I Love You

I love you most ♥

[inbloomwriting]

I just wanted to say that your ted lasso fics are so beautifully written and so so amazing. Thank you for sharing them with us ❤️❤️

Sorry I am just now getting around to checking and answering my asks. Thank you soooo much. I truly miss writing for this blog more actively. I am trying my very best. I should be able to spend some more time on my WIPS coming may when I have a few days off. Work is kicking my ass rn.

Thank you for readying my stories and for letting me know you enjoyed them. It means EVERYTHING

[inbloomwriting]

Thank you so much for including me in this ♥♥♥♥

TED LASSO FIC RECS

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE. I AM NOT A WRITER. I MADE THIS SO I CAN EASILY GO BACK AND REREAD. I SIMPLY THINK THESE ARE WORKS OF ART AND DESERVE MORE LOVE.

(my beloved writers, if you do not want your work here please message me and I will remove it -- p.s.  i love you and i hope you know how talented you are <3)

Jaime Tartt 

About You   @buckychristwrites

Could this be   @buckychristwrites

Kiss Me   @clonecaptains

Ill still be right next to you my dear   @its-time-to-write

three times cause ive waited my whole life   @its-time-to-write

secret admirer   @its-time-to-write

Saved you a seat   @benedictscanvas

Standing Ovation    @rqgnarok

Sweater Weather  @alwritey-aphrodite

You can hear it in the silence   @1800grvy​

Distractions  @illiterateaffairs​

you can sit here  @hopefulromances​

in love with an idea  @its-time-to-write​

You dont want to know me  @its-time-to-write​ 

flipped the script  @its-time-to-write

a kiss that I kept @inbloomwriting

Updated: 12/15/23