QuikSun

Jamie is the most confident of the three and apart from the slip up in the final episode, the most emotionally mature, sincere and direct

He's not an insecure, submissive doormat that lets the other two play with him and do whatever they want without communication

If anything, he'd be the glue holding the throuple together

He's not an afterthought, something added on to Roy and Keeley together, something they can take or leave, something they can use as a sexual object and then throw to the side

(I've legit read posts saying "they would treat him like a dog 🐶 make him sleep at the end of the bed or on the floor if he misbehaves! nudging him with a heel if they want to play with him! so hot!")*

Jamie Tartt commands attention... and affection, and respect

(And the same applies to JamieXRoy, Jamie would not let Roy get away with any of his bullshit, but a big part of the fandom can't look at a mlm ship without applying hetero norms to it, turning Jamie into the most effeminate, submissive, emotional person (which is misogynistic and homophobic!), because "someone has to be the girl in the relationship", while Roy is the "manly man who makes the rules"; how about you let Jamie be Jamie? That man would metaphorically (or maybe even physically?) kick Roy's arse and then laugh in his face as they eat kebabs afterwards if Roy tried to pull any of his bullshit with him)

Remember Keeley talking behind Roy's back to his BOSS and COWORKERS and her ex, making Roy feel humiliated (I'm still not over the fact that at the end HE was to one who apologized????)

Remember Roy's self-sabotaging and jealous behavior (who the video was for is none of your goddam business)

Jamie would not let that shit fly.

Jamie "look I know you're upset about something and taking it out on me" Tartt who forces the scariest man in football to follow him around as he recites info about a foreign city and then forces him into a heart to heart after showing him the most wonderful sights and teaching him how to ride a bike in honor of his grandpa

Jamie "I just wanted to see how you're doing, man" Tartt who goes to comfort his historic love rival for his breakup rather than seize his chance with Keeley

Jamie "I'm glad you feel good about breaking up with me" Tartt who doesn't take insults personally because even when he was an absolute prick he wasn't unaware that he was an absolute prick, he was 100% conscious of his flaws

Jamie Tartt who loves therapy

Jamie Tartt who learned what emotional honesty is, and is never ever going back, even if it gets him in trouble

Jamie Tartt the leader, the conductor, who puts himself in the center rather than at the front because personal glory is not as important as your team performing the best they can, and your teammates expressing all of their talent

Jamie Tartt who's not afraid of calling out Roy on his bs

Jamie Tartt who inequivocably has the upper hand in his relationship with Roy, because he's honest and at peace with his wants, needs, emotions, while Roy panics at the first sign of friendship and intimacy

Jamie Tartt who doesn't play with people's feelings and is always honest and forward, and tries to think before she acts, evaluating the pro and the cons, and apologizing preventively when he knows what he's about to say is out of line, but honesty (the funeral scene with Keeley)

Compared to Keeley who sleeps with Jamie when Roy ghosts her, and then with Roy when Jack leaves her and Roy is being emotionally vulnerable, without thinking of the consequences, using people as emotional crutches, not changing in 3 seasons

Compared to Roy, who, bless him, hasn't had a single coherent thought throughout season 3, actively regressing after two years of development (not a critique of the writing, someone as emotionally constipated as Roy would definitely regress after massively self-sabotaging)

Jamie is the one helping Roy feel joy again

Jamie is the one comforting Keeley after the leak

Roy and Keeley are the ones fucking up with Jamie

And Jamie is the one mature enough to know that he is not the problem, he doesn't take it personally, "it's just poopeh, let it flow"

Like, come on!

.

me at 14: wow, protagonists in media my age! how relateable!

Then I see the client’s name.

Vi Larson, the file tells me, male, 32, computer analyst.

I close the manila folder, tossing it away from me. The whiskey sour’s gone warm in my hand, but I drink it down anyway, eyes distant. I don’t need to read any more of the file. I can fill in the gaps well enough.

Funnily enough, this betrayal is just as sharp and unpleasant as the first one, the one that got me into this business in the first place.

“You at least owe me a crime of passion, you bastard,” I mutter into my drink. I close my eyes and sigh, willing away the stinging in my heart. I knew that my relationship was in trouble, but this is just cold. 

 In a way, I can’t believe it. Is a divorce really that hard?  But, no, I know Vi. He’s methodical, analytical, and competent. If anything, hiring an assassin with a reputation like mine is right in line with his personality. Nothing but the best, even in the murder game.

I should be flattered, really. My rates aren’t cheap. Whatever I did to make him send this in–and he did, there’s his social security, his fingerprint, everything–it must have been killer.

I set my glass down on the counter and tuck the folder under my arm. I need to think and I do my best thinking in the tub. Vi won’t be back from his “business” trip for another three days, during which I’m supposed to kill myself.

As I head up the stairs, I can’t help but laugh. Finally, after three years of marriage, my husband does something interesting. And it breaks my fucking heart.

——————————————

He wants me to make it painless but horrific. There’s a script in the document, something that’s more common than people think, and it’s hard to read it, even surrounded by bubbles and soothing music.

“Your husband sent me. Said he needed to shed some dead weight.” I snort at the pun and close my eyes, resting the file against my face so it doesn’t get wet. Unfortunately, the tears do that anyway.

“Fuck,” I say. “You bastard.”

like— think for a second about how mind-bogglingly incredible it is that we know who osiris is? that somebody just made him up one day, and told stories about him to their kids, and literally thousands and thousands of years later we are still able to go “there was a god whose brother cut him into pieces”, it’s so arbitrary, it’s so incredible

that in talking about scheherazade and her husband, you are doing something that someone in every single generation has done since it was written— you are telling stories that have lasted an impossible amount of time 

can you conceive of telling a story, and then traveling into the future and hearing that same story told— with alterations, and through media that you could not possibly conceive of, but your story— in the year 3214?

the fact that we! as a species! have been telling the same damn stories for so long— the fact that we’ve seen homer’s troy and chaucer’s troy and shakespeare’s troy and troy with fucking brad pitt because we never fucking stop telling stories! never ever ever!

we never stop caring about stories, or returning to the same stories, or putting our own spins on stories. we never stop talking about the characters as if they were real, or asking what happened next, or asking to hear it again.

so I’ve been in a relationship for 5 years now. And I see a lot of posts about how people think relationships mean having butterflies forever, your heart beating faster when they walk into a room, about cuddling together every night, legs intertwined, that you’d be so happy to live together you’d sleep on a double bed with each other every night.

And its not really like that, at least not to me.

You stop getting the butterflies when you live together. Your heart no longer speeds up when you see them, but instead, everything calms down. When youre in the room with them, you feel calm, and secure. When you cuddle them you feel your heart beat slow, and the sound of their breathing carry you towards comfort. It doesnt feel like a roller coaster anymore, it feels like home.

You don’t sleep curled up with each other every night, legs twisted between theirs so tight its hard to tell where yours begin and theirs end.

Instead, you sleep comfortably, side by side, sometimes facing different directions. But every night, you find yourself scooting backwards on the bed so you bump into them. You snuggle against their arm, or stroke their hair as they fall asleep. There are nights when my boyfriend, in his sleep, reaches around me and pulls me to him, like a child with his teddybear, like I am his comfort.

 In the wee hours of the morning before the dawn breaks, when the world is blue and you see through cracked eyes, you curl into their chest and inhale their scent before drifting back to sleep. 

Kisses aren’t always romantic and firey anymore. But there are so much more of them now. There are cold kisses when you’re eating ice cream in the summer, and sticky kisses over breakfast pancakes. There’s “im leaving now” kisses, and “one more kiss before you go” kisses. There’s sleepy morning kisses before work, when you don’t remember the alarm going off but instead the press of their lips against yours is what brings you into the day.

There’s kisses before sleep, and, you are so sweet with the things you do kisses. There’s kisses because you treat animals so tenderly, and I’m so glad i’m with you and not someone else kisses. There’s quick kisses in the aisles of the grocery store, when its loud and you gravitate together, when instead of having your own personal space and their own personal space, its both of yours together, and you step into their chest to take up less area together. 

You don’t always text each other with confessions of love and care like you used to, because that’s a given now, and you’ve moved on to quirky inside jokes about the life youve built together. You share looks of exasperation and amusement in public, your own little world against the outside one. 

Relationships aren’t always a fairy tale. They’re not always fireworks and sparks, at least, after the start.

But they are a quiet rhythm and hum of love and care. It’s not a fire in your soul, but one in your hearth, keeping you warm and comfortable, comforting you as you drowsily drift into sleep.

(also i kind of intended this to be the start of a discussion? like i wouldn’t mind someone giving me their opinions over either of my opinions, whether they agree or disagree) 

(and don’t mistakes me i love both pairings but there’ve been some things about hartwin that bug me lately so i wanted to get into that a bit, i don’t mean to sound like i’m bashing if i come across that way) 

(also there’s not enough appreciation for merwin so i’m trying to convert people but w/e)  

but let’s start

one of the problems with hartwin imo is that it’s always eggsy who’s changing, eggsy who’s going to new events and learning and growing and we write harry as sort of the static, only-changing-emotions-wise-thanks-to-having-eggsy-in-his-life kinda thing