JHSC
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Summary
"Jamie’s fairly certain at this point that it is the natural order of things: you have to go out and drag joy home by the ear if you want any. So, he’s got no problem with that, he never did really. It’s just, well, it’s been increasingly difficult to do that. Or to feel anything other than… He’s not entirely sure what to call the weight pressing down on his chest when he sits in the locker room before training, but it’s that. All the time. And it is fucking Zava’s fault."
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The evening before Richmond's last training for the Boxing Day fixture, Jamie feels so alone that he decides to go and buy a Christmas tree for the first time in his life. He gets in a car accident on his way there.
He's not sure how he could have alerted anyone of that fact with his phone gone and probably broken to pieces, but people seem weirdly mad about it. Jamie's convinced that's also Zava's fault.
Bookmarked by JHSC
15 Jun 2026
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Summary
There’s a tangle of roots inside Jamie that he got for his twelfth birthday.
Ragged robin, daffodil, and mezereon.
Jamie’s true love has always been football, even though it can’t love him back.
Series
- Part 2 of Hanahaki Drabbles
Bookmarked by JHSC
14 Jun 2026
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Summary
The ethics are doing Roy’s head in. It feels like one of the stupid philosophy dilemmas Beard trots out, which he appears to think are an appropriate substitute for small talk on a pub night. Add this to the list - trolley puzzles and Roy’s weird sex problems:
1. Is it okay if your boyfriend gets off to the thought of you doing something that he thinks you wouldn’t think is hot but actually you do think it’s hot but he doesn’t know that so he’s all fucked up over it?
2. Furthermore, is it okay if you tell him you think it’s hot too, even if you know it’s going to make his dumb little idiot brain explode for some reason?
aka how to get your boyfriend to let you call him a princess
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Summary
Roy shakes his head. What an arsehole, he thinks. Jamie fucking Tartt, the prick kissed by God. Roy prides himself on not being a repressed dickhead, but Jesus's fucking cock, he's been having all kinds of nasty thoughts about that twatty fuck. He can't even make sense of them.
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Summary
And Jamie likes free shit as much as the next bloke, especially free shit from Roy, whose attention he gulps down like fucking air, but it’s like — “Roy, mate. I’ve got me own money, haven’t I?”
(In which Jamie doesn't need a sugar daddy, but Roy just might need somebody to spoil.)