#I think if he and Ted are on separate teams ted WILL be mouthing at him across the room

[coachbeards]

afc richmond trivia night do we think people fight over having beard on their team or is he banned out right

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

Currently rewatching cm rn and i saw that you requests are open and i honestly love your blog and your writing so i decided to make a request.So i was thinking,spencer is in jail and when reader goes to see him she tells him that she’s pregnant (yk that scene where jj shows him henry draw?Instead is reader showing him the ultrasound)sorry if this doesn’t make any sense,hope you have a great night/day🩷🫶🏻

i was trying to find that scene you were talking about but couldn’t, but i get what you mean. liaison!fem reader

spencer was being framed and you haven’t seen him in a month. the team kept work on his case while dealing with the active ones, whenever there was a spare moment you’d look over the files collected and try to see if something might stick out to you. you weren’t a seasoned profiler, but you’ve been around them for ten years that bits and pieces get picked up.

you needed spencer, you needed his arms wrapped around you so you could sleep soundly. you needed his random facts so you could always ask him more questions. you needed his sweet kisses and delicate hands leaving you dreamy and breathless.

you needed your husband so you didn’t have to raise your child alone. a palm rubbed over your small bump, one of spencer’s sleep shirts swallowing your figure. “i’m gonna bring daddy home. don’t worry.” whispering choked as you were hunched at your dining table with the scattered files staring up at you.

tomorrow was your day to visit spencer. you’ll bring the ultrasound picture with you so he could maybe sneak it onto his person. you wanted to give him another reason to keep himself safe as the days tick by.

there were many different families in the visiting room, young children were even sat at the cold metal tables. your knee kept bouncing from anxiety and your fingers held onto small photo, you tried not to bend or curl it.

you perked up when one by one, inmates were escorted to their tables. the officers reminding everyone, “no physical touch from inmate or visitor.” you took a shaky exhale when spencer’s tall figure entered the room, he looked unharmed.

he sat down across from you, his messy curls starting to grow longer. “hi honey,” eyes getting watery at the forced separation. spencer’s smile wobbled, “hi love.”

“i- i brought you some news, it’s not for the- the case. but it’s good news.” you slowly placed the photo on the table and slid it towards spencer then pulled back, just feeling his fleeting warmth as he pulled the paper closer.

he stared down at it, mouth slightly agape. “is- is this real?” he asked quietly. his eyes looked to you and you nodded with a few tears sliding down your cheeks, “i’m three months along.”

spencer licked his lips then dragged his palms down his face, “holy shit.” you heard his whisper. you stuffed your hands under your thighs, “are- are you happy?” voice cracked on the word happy.

spencer was quick to snap his eyes to you, his eyes softening and brows pinching. he started to reach a hand out, but pulled it back to the photo. “of course. this is the best thing to happen to us, i’m just- i’m just worried. emily said it might be awhile and im worried that i’ll miss so much with you and the baby, they might not even know who i am when i’m released.”

you didn’t want to get his hopes up, you didn’t want to get your hopes up. “we’re working on it twenty four seven. it shouldn’t be long before you’re free, and i always play the recording of your ted talks or lectures when i go to sleep. it calms both of us.”

you always made sure to talk about spencer with your growing fetus. making sure you constantly remind them, “your daddy loves you. he’s just somewhere for the time being, but he’ll be home soon.”

the guards reappeared and told everyone their time was up. “keep it,” you jerked your chin at the photo. spencer quickly slipped it into his uniform pocket and stood from the table, hesitating for a moment. “i love you. i love you both.” he said before leaving the room.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 30/? Word count: 2603 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 28. A True Leader

"Two secs, Ted, we have a board radio from Matilde Jørgensen coming in," Crofty said. He, just like everyone else in the world, heard the words from the Ferrari team principal and he looked at Martin Brundle. "Did she just say that they are on their own?"

Brundle squeezed his eyebrows together and processed the moment. Right on that moment, Matilde appeared on the TV: she was leaning back on her chair and her arms crossed in front of her chest, really taking her hands off the leadership. "She did," he said speechlessly. "Can she do that?"

"She just did," Croftly uncomfortably chuckled. "Has someone ever done that before?"

"No, I don't think someone has ever done that like that." Brundle took a deep breath. "I really hope that this is the right decision; otherwise, we can say goodbye to her."

"I don't even want to know what is happening at Ferrari now," Ted said chimed in. "Wow, what a move."

The move left people stunned. Commentators were at a loss for words, uncertain about how to react or what to anticipate next. The board was standing in the garage, shaking their heads and preparing for the immediate dismissal of Matilde Jørgensen. Twitter exploded with a flurry of comments, debating whether Matilde's decision was a bold move or the potential end of her leadership in Formula 1.

There were fifteen laps to go and the tension hung thick in the air, intensified by Matilde's unprecedented decision to release the control and leave it up to her two drivers. There was silence within the team, no more words were shared. Only when crucial information had to be shared, there were people talking. No one understood the decision, it only created many questions and judgements.

Max was still leading, but Charles and Carlos were also fighting for the lead, each driver pushing their car and abilities to the limit. It was Max who held the lead for most of the race, his competitive Red Bull car slicing through the air with precision. However, Charles and Carlos, fueled by a newfound sense of determination, refused to let Max pull away.

With each passing lap, the tension intensified. Nothing really happened after the odd move by the Ferrari team principal, but Charles and Carlos began to close the gap on Max, inching closer with each passing lap. The crowd held its breath as the Ferrari's came closer to Max; the Ferrari duo hunted down the leader.

"Leclerc is making a move on Verstappen!" Crofty yelled in excitement. "Leclerc is taking the lead in the Italian Grand Prix!" He almost couldn't believe it when he saw the red car passing the blue car in the first corner. "Monza goes wild! Wow!"

But the drama wasn't over. Because Max had to defend his position, he lost some time. Carlos plotted his move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It took some time for Carlos to find the perfect moment.

"Sainz moves out and has to go round the outside of Verstappen! Can Verstappen hold the second position? No! He can't!" Crofty yelled in one breath. "Ferrari did it again in the same corner!"

The Monza crowd erupted into cheers as the Ferrari cars were leading the Italian Grand Prix, their favourite drivers displaying a level of skill that left fans breathless.

"That move from Matilde Jørgensen did something," Brundle then said. "It's like she pulled out the power of these guys to create the best battle of the year." He covered his mouth with his hand. "Brilliant."

The tension in the Ferrari garage was palpable as the last five laps began. Engineers and team members watched with bated breath, their eyes glued to the screens as Charles and Carlos battled for the lead. Matilde's decision to relinquish control has sent shockwaves through the team, but now, as they watched their drivers for victory, there was a sense of unity and purpose. So far.

As the laps dwindled down, the tension reached a fever pitch. Max fought hard to retake the lead, even making one last desperate attempt to overtake, but Charles and Carlos held firm, their defensive manoeuvres denying him any chance of retaking the top spot. Carlos did an excellent job; he was defending his position from Max, but also trying to pass Charles to lead. It was a battle of wills, a clash of titans that had the entire world on the edge of their seats.

Charles crossed the finish line. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he realised what just happened. The loud cheers of the fans filled his ears and he couldn't stop smiling. A happy and relieved cry left his mouth and he laughed in disbelief.

Just a few seconds after that, Carlos crossed the finish line. He immediately looked in his right mirror: Max didn't pass him. Even though he couldn't do better than this, Charles was better during the last stint, Carlos felt like the second place was bittersweet. However, he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. A 1-2. At Monza. They did it. They managed to do it anyway. The roar of the crowd echoed in his ears, making him grin and cheer.

In the Ferrari garage, cheers erupted as everyone embraced each other, overcome with emotion at the realisation of their victory. At the beginning of the race, it looked like they didn't even have a chance to win. Everyone was extremely focused on the agreed strategy, but adjusting and customising the strategy during the race, was the key to this victory. This was the victory everyone worked so hard for.

Matilde's eyes glistened with tears of happiness as she watched her drivers bask in the glory of their achievement. She raised her arms up in the air; a victory. She turned around and looked at the garage: everybody was so happy and celebrating the win. Her smile told stories; this was exactly why she worked so unbelievably hard. Despite the doubts and uncertainties earlier in the race, her decision to trust her drivers had paid off in the most spectacular way.

Abele was the first mechanic to walk up to Matilde and hugged her. "You are so brilliant, Matilde," he laughed. "You are unbelievable."

A laugh rolled over her lips. "The team did it," she said. 

He couldn't stop smiling when he pulled back. He patted her back and walked back to his fellow engineers.

Matilde stayed seated behind the pitwall, processing the moment. All the engineers behind the pitwall congratulated each other. Matilde's cheeks started to hurt because she couldn't stop smiling. She relaxed her shoulders and bit her lip. The cheers and thankful words of the boys filled the radio.

"Matilde, go to the podium," the chief mechanic mentioned.

Her eyes widened and she looked around; everyone at the wall looked at her; they wanted her on the podium. She pushed the button to open the line. "This is one of many," she said. "Maybe next time."

"Really?"

"Really." She didn't want to be on the podium of the first win, not of the second win (home victory), but during the championship winning race.

"Sure," the chief mechanic said perplexedly. "Abele, the podium is yours!"

Matilde took off the headset and got up, looking towards Parc fermé; the place was already filled with friends and family, team members of Redbull and the team members of Ferrari. She decided to stay at the pitwall, since she got a beautiful view of the podium. And she would congratulate Charles and Carlos after. And she would give a speech in front of the entire team. There was so much happening that Matilde didn't know where to look, where to put her attention, who to talk to, what to do or what to say.

"Matilde!" Someone shouted. Matilde looked confused around her, looking for the person in question. "Here, above you!"

Matilde looked up. "Oh, hi," she said and a smile came on her face.

"Come here!"

A few people from Ferrari were hanging on the grid wall - and yes, they were allowed to now since the race was over. Matilde left the headset at the pitwall and climbed up, hanging next to her colleagues, having even a better view of the podium. She looked around; so many fans were running over the grid to get the perfect spot to see the podium. The smile on her face didn't get washed off. 

Max was the first one to enter the podium. Casual cheers filled the grid. When Carlos entered the podium, a chorus of cheers and applause that seemed to envelop the entire circuit. Fans and crew members couldn't stop cheering, their faces alive with excitement. A proud emotion flowed through Matilde's veins when she saw one of her drivers smiling widely. Then Abele walked on the podium; Matilde and her team were cheering extremely loud for their mechanic. But then... Then Charles walked on the podium and the roar of the crowd echoed through the air. This had to be one of the loudest cheers the team had heard in years. Charles waved and couldn't stop smiling. Memories were made and captured.

Matilde looked around, feeling a surge of emotion wash over her. She had never experienced something like this before. Her heart swelled with pride as she watched the scene unfold before her. There were so many fans standing on the grid, so many were cheering and many were waving Italian or Ferrari flags. Matilde looked to the pitlane; she had never seen so many guests and teams watch this podium. It was a moment she had dreamed of, worked so hard for, and it was finally here. Her drivers stood tall, their faces alight with joy as they waved to the adoring fans below.

The Monacan anthem was blasting through the speakers at first. As soon as the Italian anthem began, the Italian started to scream the words. Matilde's jaw dropped, goosebumps spread over her arms. A massive smile came on her face; she got blown away by this moment. When overseeing this moment, it was a moment of profound pride. Pride in her team, who had worked tirelessly to achieve this moment. Pride in her drivers, whose skill and determination had brought them to this podium. And secretly, most of all, pride in herself, for leasing her team to this incredible victory. They have made endless kilometres to get to this point.

Amidst the cheers and applause after the national anthem and receiving the trophies, everyone of the Ferrari team felt a sense of gratitude. Gratitude for the opportunity to be part of such a remarkable team. Gratitude for the massive support of their team principal and colleagues. And gratitude for this moment.

When the ceremony was over, Matilde carefully stood on the ground again and accepted some celebratory words from guests and former teammates. Then she spotted her family in the crowd. She walked over to them, well, jumped. She fell in the arms of both her brothers and they all jumped around while laughing.

"What the fuck, man," Lars said, stopped jumping and held his little sister in front of him by holding her shoulders. "You have so fucking much courage to do this," he smiled. "Well fucking done."

"You really said: fuck them all," Jens added and laughed.

Matilde laughed in disbelief; she was lost for words. Even though this was her second win as team principal, this victory felt more legit because the entire team worked together. The first win in Miami felt like a one-sided win, and this was a team-sided victory. "It's because of you," she said to her big brothers. "You came to the race."

"You did it on your own, Tils," Jens replied. "You can say that. Go to your team, celebrate this victory with them. We will see you later."

Matilde nodded, greeted the rest of her family and she made her way through the crowd towards her colleagues, exchanging hugs and high-fives with them, each congratulating her on the team's incredible victory. When she saw Charles and Carlos in her eyesight, she walked, well, again, jumped over to them in excitement.

"Oh, my god, you were amazing," Matilde excitedly said and hugged Charles, not minding the sweat and champagne on his body. "Well done. Couldn't be more proud."

Charles wrapped his arm around her waist. "Thank you," he laughed. "You were brilliant." He pulled back and scanned her face; the smile on her face said everything.

She let go of them and stepped towards Carlos. "Outstanding," she smiled. "You drove so unbelievably strong, Carlos. I'm so proud of you," she said and hugged him. 

"Thank you," Carlos gratefully said. "You have to explain the decision to me because I need to know your thoughts," he said.

They all looked at each, smiling like crazy idiots.

"Sorry, I don't know how to act," Matilde then said and laid her hands on her cheeks. "I forgot how to act like a team principal," she chuckled uncomfortably.

In the meantime many post-race shows started. The drivers who weren't on the podium, were already standing in the media area for the interviews. F1TV was standing in the middle of the paddock, having a beautiful view of the winner. Will Buxton and Luca Filippi were observing Ferrari, looking at them while hosting the post-race show.

"It's just beautiful to see all the emotions, the joy, happiness..." Buxton said. "They have worked so hard for this victory. What do you think of the decisions that have been made throughout the race?"

Filippi nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. This victory is not just about crossing the finish line first, it's about the decisions, indeed. I think it was a brilliant decision to let Leclerc and Sainz race on their own."

"It was a shocking call. Was Jørgensen even allowed to make the call?"

"Well, it's all about the reason behind the call. In this case, the strategy wasn't working anymore. And the team already did everything according to the strategy. There was nothing the team could have done for Leclerc and Sainz - only if there was a safety car. It was a risk to make this decision, but are you a driver, strategist or team principal if you don't take the risk?" Filippi reminded everyone. "I think Jørgensen wanted to give Leclerc and Sainz the confidence, freedom and opportunity to let them show how good of a driver they are. This call was a push into victory. And it worked, they both passed Verstappen and brought this iconic way home." He smiled. "A team principal would never let her or his team down. Never. This was just a psychological push into the right direction."

"It certainly worked. I think no one thought Ferrari would win this weekend," Buxton admitted, speaking for a lot of people. "As team principal, Matilde Jørgensen has been a guiding light for Ferrari for the past few races."

"Absolutely. And this race showed something: the trust Jørgensen has in Leclerc, Sainz and her team. A few months ago, there was no trust within the team and they showed it to everyone. With this kind of trust, they can challenge Verstappen and Red Bull easily. Isn't it wonderful to see how the dynamics are changing within Ferrari?" Filippi looked impressed, his expression serious. "They can beat Red Bull by using the right philosophy. And they used the right philosophy today."

"I think we can all agree on Matilde's leadership being instrumental in Ferrari's comeback this year. It's safe to say she is not just a team principal; she's a motivator, a visionary. And above all, a true leader," Buxton smiled.

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u@sltwins @heart-trees

[babytarttdoodoo]

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

[believesthings]

Lose Your Mind // Ted lasso x reader

Summary: just a quick little fic while I work on some bigger projects. inspired by @my-soupy-brain’s “Together At Last” fic. Basically, Ted asks you to come to nelson road early before everyone else has clocked in, smut ensues from there.

Warnings: smut smut smut.

You’ve never heard the office so… quiet before. The sound of your footsteps is the only thing in your ear as you pace down the hallway to Ted’s office.

You were practically galloping.

Ted had been gone with the team for a stint of away games while you had stayed back with Higgins to take care of some Admin tasks.

As ridiculous as it probably sounded, it was the longest you’ve been away from Ted since you started dating and you missed him terribly.

When you got a message from Ted asking you to meet him early at Nelson Road this morning, you wasted no time.

“Ted?”

“Well, hey there sugar plum.”

God, he was a sight for sore eyes. His hair was slightly disheveled, stubble growing where he hadn’t shaved in a few days, his sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms.

“Hi.”

He’s leaving against his desk, folding his arms over his chest. “Sorry to bother you so early, I just - we’ve been so busy and I haven’t gotten to see ya and I just wanted a little time for us, sorry it has to be like this.”

“That’s alright. God, I missed you.” You sprint to him, wrapping your arms around his middle and burrowing your face in his chest.

“Me too, sugar. You have no idea.” You can feel the vibrations of his chest underneath you when he speaks. His hands are reaching up to rub your back.

“You know, this is the longest I’ve gone without kissing you.” Ted says.

“Oh yeah? How you holding up?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “Not well. I’m all upside down and sideways. I almost put shaving cream on my toothbrush this morning.”

You looked up at him, taking his chin in your hand and running your hand over the stubble forming there. “Well, thank goodness you made it back to me in one piece. We should probably take care of that kiss situation before anything bad happens to you.”

You lean up and begin pressing kisses to his jaw but he quickly grabs you face and lifts your head up to his lips. Thank god no one is here because you’re practically moaning into his mouth.

He turns you over and lifts you up onto his desk, reversing your positions. He stands between your legs, running his hands up your thighs while you undo the buttons of his shirt. The cold, hard wooden desk wasn’t exactly the ideal spot for this, but at the moment, neither you really seemed to care. Once you had undone all the buttons you were pushing the fabric off his shoulders, you dip down and kiss the sensitive spots of his neck, whimpering while you writhed beneath him. Ted was losing his mind at the sensations you were creating. Your mouth was sucking at his pulse points, body pressed up against his. With your legs wrapped around his lower half, you’re pulling his growing erection closer towards you, Ted was acutely aware that only a bit of fabric separated him from your sweet pussy.

Fuck it, he decides. Your dress has already risen to an obscene height and he guides the material up your body, encouraging you to lift your arms and remove the garment completely.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers against your mouth.

You move your hands to undo his belt. Ted always takes such care to make sure that you’re satisfied and you really want to make this one about him. You were pushing his khakis off his body but once you started to go for his boxers, he grabs your wrists.

“Honey…” he warns, he is still kissing on your chest but he is acutely aware that you’re in public and while your both here early, that didn’t mean that someone couldn’t show up at any moment.

“No sex, Ted. Not right now. I don’t think we’re gonna have time for that this morning. But, you’ve been away and I want to make this good for you.” Even though you are the only two there, you’re still whispering like someone could bust in at any moment. “Don’t worry about me. Just let yourself enjoy it.”

He lets out a whimper at your words and nods letting you continue pushing off his boxers. You can feel his erection buck forward towards you once you completely get his clothes off. Reaching down, you push your panties, leaving you both completely naked. Ted could feel himself getting impossibly hard. He hasn’t really anticipated things going this far but he trusted you enough to do as you said, to just let his body react and enjoy your movements. He loved the way you felt moving underneath him. He leaned you back onto the desk and took in the sight you pinned beneath his body. You took his cock in your hand, stroking him, seeming to take your time over every ridge and groove as if you weren’t already intimately familiar with it. He moaned out in response to your movements.

“Oh my god - honey.” He croaks out.

Your other hand crawled up to the back of his head and you pull him down into a hungry kiss, quieting his moans with your own mouth as you continue to stoke his cock. Ted’s breathing is getting heavier when he begins to feel you position the head of his cock just outside the center of your pussy.

He tenses up, you break the kiss and force him to look at you. “Relax, baby.”

He nods although he really wasn’t sure what your were about to do.

“Look at me.” You whisper. He fought to keep his eyes open and focused on you. When he felt you take the tip of his cock and grind it against the wetness of your pussy, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“Oh god”. He moans out. It takes every ounce of self control he has to keep from thrusting his hips forward and entering you. He knows how tight you would be and being away you from you for so long, he wants you badly, more than he wants his next breath.

You’re far from unaffected yourself. You were naked. He was on top of you. His chest on perfect display for you, his cock positioned at your entrance, teasing your pussy, causing you to practically drop onto the surface of his desk.

It wouldn’t have taken much. All you would have to do is slide your body a few inches down and he’d be inside you. But you knew this wasn’t the place for it. People would be filing in any minute, if they haven’t already. You can feel your self control beginning to slip so you decide to reposition yourself so that temptation wasn’t just a breath away.

Ted groaned at the loss of sensation, but there was also a sense of relief since he wouldn’t have to fight with his body to remain in control.

Truthfully, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would have been able to hold out. To compensate for the loss, you tighten the grip you had on him and watched his eyes fall shut. You wrapped your legs around him tightly, maintaining smooth, even stokes on his cock.

It wasn’t sex, but it felt amazing. Ted looked down at you, his lips brushing against yours as he continued to thrust into your hand. The sounds of your moans and the feel of your body, naked against his own, was enough to send him to the brink.

He began to move harder and faster against you, his breathing growing more erratic, until with one final push, he finally reached his release. He collapsed against you, trying to catch his breath. Once he finally did, he rolled off you.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” He whispers, kissing the side of your head.

“Geez, sorry honey. It looks like I made a mess of you.”

You give him a shy smile as you start to clean yourself off and get redressed, “don’t worry about it.” You assured him. Ted retrieved his boxers and khakis and put them back on. You sneak into the bathroom to finish cleaning yourself up and make it look like you hadn’t just been engaging in incredibly naughty behavior in the workplace.

Once you return, you see Ted with a sheepish expression on his face, holding up a cup of coffee. “Sorry, darling. I bought this for ya this morning but I guess I got so wrapped up in our activity there that I forgot to give it to you. It’s probably cold by now.”

You take the cup from him anyway. “That’s alright.” Truthfully, after what you just did with Ted, you didn’t really think you’d need it.

You could hear the chatter of voice down the hall coming closer. Ted did a quick inspection of the office to make sure you hadn’t left behind any evidence of this morning’s events.

Ted gives you one final kiss goodbye. When he pulls back he whispers, “we’ll um - finish up the rest of this tonight?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Coach.”

He groans. He can’t tell if you genuinely don’t know how much it turns him on when you call him coach or if you do know and you do it anyway just to get a rise out of him.

“Love you, honey.”

You quip back, “I love you more.”

He grins at you, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“I guess that’s just something we’ll have to settle tonight too.”

You give him one last kiss and you’re out the door, on the way to your own office before he can even process your words.

Glancing at the clock, he wants to scream at the amount of hours that stand between him and the promised tonight. He loves coaching. His loves this team. but god, he couldn’t stop thinking about you and what you had in store for him.

If he knows you as well as he thinks he does, he was sure it was bound to make him lose his fucking mind.

[scenetocause]

can i ask about grid boy oscar please?

ofc. grid boy oscar my beloved.

basically: the fia brings gridpeople back as a concept but they're there all season and it's an excuse to put oscar in a skimpy leotard, as well as various situations like having to participate in an FIA litterpicking initiative and endorse synthetic fuel as part of the "grid for good". all of this happens in front of a particularly half-drowned cat lando who's desperately lonely and kind of falling apart. also logan is lando's teammate (bc if no oscar he would have won f3, etc) and they are quite fun to write together.

lando basically falls in love with his hot, slightly awkward grid boy and keeps giving oscar his coat or hoodie and things when he's cold or his umbrella when it's hot and oscar's a bit bemused about it but not arguing because he only took this job to try and make contacts with teams about an engineering internship. except there's this cute, weird driver who keeps asking him to hang out and keep him company at dinner and falling asleep while oscar's sitting on his bed and lando sometimes looks so pathetically needy. oscar has no idea what he could do to help him out but he wants to.

so lando sort of staggers through the season, with oscar as more and more of a support and they're both a little bit lost but helping each other enough and then perhaps they have a lovely little snog when they realise they're going to be separated and oh, maybe they won't be, then.

snippet under the cut

“What do you think about the grid girls - well, grid people?” Lando is not expecting Ted Kravitz to ambush him, Notebook mic in hand, while he was trying to re-do his shoelace under the only bit of rain cover near McLaren’s hospitality in Suzuka.

“Uh.” He blinks, water dripping in front of his eyes. “They’re uh, they’re very nice?”

Ted gives him a look like that’s not the right answer and Lando’s mouth panics before his brain has time to catch up. 

“Nice people, you know. They clearly have lots of passion for Formula 1 and they-” there’s rain running into his mouth, off his hood. Has to pause to swallow and shake his head like a dog. “They’re here, you know, because of that.”

“Oh, right.” Ted nods. “Yes, it’s good for them, isn’t it?”

There’s a note of concern in his voice that says he’s not totally sure what they just had was a coherent conversation but it’s the Notebook so. Whatever. Lando shakes himself again, water spraying, as Ted burbles away from him and he finally gets the sopping wet lace on his team trainers into something approaching a knot that might hold to the car park, at least.

Logan catches up to him with a papaya umbrella halfway there. “Dude. You’re soaked.”

Ok, yeah, Lando probably should have thought about an umbrella himself. He’s a bit out of sorts, lately - Jon used to handle all that sort of thing for him and he’s actually fine coping on his own and it’s ok for Jon to be home for a few races and Lando’s an adult, yeah? He’s leading the team, Logan doing well enough but the points gap between them clear, Lando getting asked about executive-level decisions in the group like he’s one of the real grown ups, lately. 

So he’s doing fine, alright? Just, like, a bit wet. On this particular occasion. Sometimes he’s also thirsty and can’t find his water bottle or hungry and hasn’t remembered there’s a wrap ready in the fridge but he’s basically alright. His back hurts more but he’s fine, it’s only a few races. He can do this.

“Where’s the - team car or whatever, anyway?” Now he’s under the umbrella it’s obvious quite how bad it was, water sluicing off the spokes like it’s out of a tap. 

“I dunno.” Logan sighs, heavily. “I just figured Zak’d probably have another reason to fire me if I let you drown.”

[bbymunsonx]

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Four

chapter warnings: language, implied sexual content, sexual tension hehe

word count: 2.4k

After embarrassingly crying to Ted about my sex life, I quickly had to run back to my flat before I embarrassed myself even more. 

When I get back to my flat, I took out my laptop and started to Google all the players on the team. Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent, Sam Obisanya. I even decided to Google Ted, purely out of curiosity. I thought I'd get a bit more caught up before our first official day of work. 

Jamie's results were what I expected. I'm definitely gonna have to work on his branding, I thought to myself.

Roy's results were pretty clean. Most of the articles just talked about how he should start to think about retiring because of his age and his supposed knee problem. 

Sam's results were about how he came to England from Nigeria to play for AFC Richmond. In every interview he does, he mostly just talks about how much he misses home. 

Ted's results made my heart drop. There were some positive things about him, but most of the things that people were saying about him online were sickening. 

Ted Lasso: Richmond's New Hillbilly Coach. 

One of the links had a video of Ted with the Wichita State Football Team. It looked like the team was in the locker room after winning a game, where they were all dancing with Ted. The football players all honestly looked like they adored that man. One of the football players in question, Julian Silva, my lovely ex-boyfriend. 

After getting to know Ted better, seeing footage of him and Julian together is enough to make my stomach churn. They are complete polar opposites. Knowing Ted, he was probably way too kind to him. A lot kinder than he deserved. 

***

The next day was our first "official" day at AFC Richmond. Naturally, Ted welcomed me at my front door with a coffee in one hand and a box of fresh made biscuits in the other. 

"What's this?" I asked while taking the box. 

"Just a little something. You gotta let me know how they are before I give 'em to the boss. Just take a little nibble." Ted eagerly waited for me to take a bite. 

"Holy shit-" I said with a mouth full of biscuits, "This is delightful. How the hell do you know how  to make this shit?"

"Google... and baking shows, of course." Ted answered. 

"The Great British Bake Off baby," Coach Beard chipped in. 

"I'm telling you, you two become more and more interesting by the day." 

When we arrived at the stadium, we all went our separate ways. Ted went to find Rebecca to give her his homemade biscuits, Coach Beard went out on the pitch, and I found my way down to my office. 

Being logged onto Richmond's socials and keeping an eye on all the comments, especially the comments revolving around Ted, was quite exhausting already. People on the internet could be so cruel. After moderating their socials for a bit, I found a livestream from Richmond's official page that they were doing a press conference, right now.

Shit, Ted probably had no idea they were dong this, I thought to myself. After reading the comments, it seemed like probably one out of ten people had something nice to say. Then it went down to zero after Ted had accidentally spit on the entire audience of journalists. Today was going to be a long day. 

After closing my laptop for a quick breather, someone knocked on my door. "Anyone in here?"

"Yeah, come on in." I responded. In came a girl that I thought looked vaguely familiar. She looked around my age, maybe a little bit older than me. Where have I seen her before?

"Hello! I just wanted to come and meet you in person! I'm Keeley Jones!" She came running up to me and giving me a hug. 

"Hi! I'm Lacy." I hugged her back, why not?

"I know! God, you're fucking fit." She took a step back and really stared at me for a second. 

"I'm not really sure what that means, but thanks!" I awkwardly laughed. "So what do you do around here?"

"I'm kinda famous for being almost famous, if that makes sense. I was with Jamie Tartt for a little, but we actually broke up a few days ago. I do a lot of PR work for the team, too, yeah?"

"Oh shit," I exhaled. Now I know where I know her. She came up when I was looking up Jamie earlier. Thank God I'm not a homewrecker. 

"But I'm not taking your job or anything. You're actually way more qualified than me." Keeley laughed. "We'll be working together, if that's alright. I do more of the 'getting them sponsorships' and shit and you're more of their public image of the players and the overall club. I have a feeling we're gonna be great friends, Lace." Keeley smiled.

"Me too, Keeley." I smiled back. 

***

"Lacy, come in here a second, would ya?" Ted called from his desk to mine. I'd been splitting my time evenly between being on the pitch with the coaches and the players and being in my office. I wanted to make sure I knew what they were doing, but I also wanted to make sure I was doing my job and moderating their socials. 

"Yes, Coach?" I said with my voice slightly raised and my lashes fluttered, obviously being facetious. Why not have some fun and spice up the day?  I decided to get comfortable and sit atop of his desk. 

After clearing his throat, visibly affected by my comment, Ted managed to say, "I wanna throw a birthday party for Sam. He's just feeling a bit homesick at the moment and he needs to know that we're on his side. So are you free tonight?"

"What makes you think I'd literally be doing anything else?" I raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, I didn't know if you had plans with a certain Mr. Ja-," Ted laughed as I cut him off. 

"No, Ted. I will be there."

"Great, see you later," Ted got up and touched my arm before leaving the office, causing my heart to almost fall out of ass as I looked over at Coach Beard, who of course, had his head in a book and didn't witness any of what happened. Ted always touches people in their arms when he talks to them. That's just his thing. 

"Are you gonna go to the party tonight, Beardo?" I asked. 

"Beardo?" I finally got him to put the book down.

"Is that alright?" I questioned. Maybe Ted touching my arm is causing me to act all weird. 

Beard took a second to think before responding with, "I'll allow it." He then got up and left the office, leaving me just sitting there on Ted's desk, all alone.

***

 After going back to my flat and getting ready for the party, I settled on a little cocktail dress that Rebecca put in my closet. 

Ted Lasso: You ready, spaghetti?

Lacy Watson: As ready as I'm gonna be.

Coach Beard: Can I bring a girl I met today?

Lacy Watson: When did you meet a girl? You were at work all day?

Ted Lasso: We're just gonna keep tonight a work casual thing. If she's like any of your other gals, we don't wanna scare Sam. Maybe next time, Bud. 

Coach Beard disliked " We're just gonna keep tonight a work casual thing. If she's like any of your other gals, we don't wanna scare Sam. Maybe next time, Bud."

Rhythmic knocks rapped against my door. "Come in!" I yelled down. A few sets of footsteps came up my stairs when suddenly Ted and Coach Beard rounded the corner into my living room. A part of me panicked realizing this was their first time in my flat. 

"Look at you!" Ted called out to me, causing me to roll my eyes. 

"Let's just go." I groaned. 

I wore my sneakers during the walk so I wasn't suffering in my heals. When we arrived at the stadium, Ted had sent Coach Beard in while he helped me change into my heals that I brought in my bag. Ted, being the gentleman he is, knelt to the ground to help give me some balance. 

"Are you nervous about seeing Jamie? You didn't really see him today at training." Ted questioned, while letting me hold onto his shoulders while putting on my heals. 

"I'm not that bothered by it. Either way, tonight is all about making Sam feel at home. I have to put my stupid boy drama aside for the night."

"Panda?" Ted looked up at me. There was just something about this man knelt before me, looking up at me, that made my stomach do acrobatics. 

"I think we should choose a different word. There's just something about a grown man saying the word panda that's just a little funny," I joked to change the subject. 

"Whatever you want." Ted looked down and smirked. Just as he was about to say something else, Coach Beard came running outside, huffing all out of breath. 

"There you guys are! I thought you got lost!" He exclaimed. 

"You're such a smart-ass." I laughed. Ted got off his knees and escorted Coach Beard and I into the stadium. 

Football players were standing all throughout the locker room with drinks in their hand, deep in conversation. The locker room was filled with balloons, streamers, and miscellaneous birthday decorations. "Who did this?" I questioned. 

"Oh, that would be me." Nate came out of nowhere. 

 "You did an awesome job, Nate-dawg. It looks great." Ted slapped Nate on the back, to which he smiled. 

"Yeah, this looks awesome, Nate." I smiled at him. "If you'll excuse me, real quick. I'm gonna go find Sam."

After looking around the locker room, I found Sam deep in conversation with Colin Hughes. "Hi, Sam! Happy birthday!" I went to shake his hand since I didn't formally meet him yet. He pushed my hand away and gave me a hug. 

"Thank you, Ms. Watson! This is such an amazing surprise. It's been really hard being away from my family, so thank you for helping me feel less alone."

"Of course, Sam. And please, I'm only four years older than you. Please just call me Lacy."

"Yes, Lacy." Sam smiled back. 

"Enjoy the party." I gave Sam a side hug as he continued his conversation with Colin. As I went throughout the locker room, looking to see if Keeley had showed up, I saw the last person I wanted to see, Jamie Tartt. 

"Hi, Jamie." I decided to be civil, especially if I have to work with him. 

"Hiya, Lacy. Nice party." He took a sip of his drink, probably his second or third drink of the night. 

"Hm." I just nodded in response, not really knowing what to say. 

"Let's get you a drink." Jamie took my hand to get me a drink. I didn't really feel like a drink tonight, especially because I wanted to get some work done when I got back to my flat. 

"That's alright, Jamie. I don't really want to." I looked to my left and saw Ted staring daggers at Jamie. He was on the complete other side of the locker room, so he couldn't even possibly hear what we were saying. 

"Cmon, just one drink. For old times sake," Jamie winked at me. 

"How can that possibly be for old times sake, that was three days ago." Sometimes Jamie genuinely confused the fuck out of me. 

"Just have one drink with me and I'll leave ya alone, yeah? Let's just be civil." Jamie continued to persuade. 

As soon as I saw Ted start to walk over to us, I heard a deep voice come from behind me, "She's not having the fucking drink, so get the fuck out of here." Roy Kent. 

"No one's talking to you, Grandpa." Jamie looked behind me and stared down Roy. 

"Is there an issue going on here, fellas?" Ted finally made his way over, standing directly next to me. 

"No one's talking to you, wanker. I'm trying to give Lacy an opportunity with a real man, yeah?" Jamie laughed to himself. 

"I think you've had too much to drink tonight, Jamie. How about you just go home before we all do something we regret." Ted sternly said to him. If looks could kill, Jamie would be dead on the floor. 

"This party fucking blows anyway." Jamie threw his drink on the floor and walked out. Tears started to form in my eyes. I really wanted to be civil with Jamie, but he may be making that impossible. 

"Come here," Ted took my arm and I went with him but stopping him before we got too far. 

"Wait a second," I pulled away for a moment to turn around to Roy, "Thank you, Roy." I gave him a tiny hug, to which he grunted and walked away. I was gonna break through him. I could feel it. 

I ran back up to Ted as he was talking to Beard, "I'm just gonna take her home. You've got it from here?" 

Coach Beard nodded. 

***

It was a very silent walk back home with neither one of us knowing exactly what to say. 

Ted broke the silence first, "Do you want me to say something to him tomorrow?"

"No, Ted. It's alright. He was drunk. I don't think he's a bad guy, just stupid." I laughed a little, to which Ted nodded. 

"Alright, then. Just give me the word and he'll be off my team." Ted responded sternly. No hint of a joke behind his tone. I just nodded. 

When we made it back to the flats, Ted stopped at the foyer and as always, asked if I wanted to join him inside for a drink. 

"I think I'm gonna call it a night. I gotta catch up on all our socials and I don't even think I have the energy to do that." 

"Well, don't work too hard," Ted pointed a finger at me. 

"I make no promises. I gotta prove to the boss lady that I'm worth keeping around."

"Touche. Well, have a good night, Lacy Loo."

"Goodnight, Teddy."

He walked into his flat the same time I walked into mine. After the door shut, my back pressed against the door as I felt it difficult to catch my breath. All I could feel were the butterflies in my stomach, trying to pull me into his flat. Though it's only been three days, I had to stop lying to myself. I wasn't just being flirty for the hell of it. I didn't reject Jamie Tartt because he's not a good looking guy. 

No. I was falling for Ted Lasso. 

Fuck. 

authors note: these next few chapters are gonna get sooooo good I love writing jealous Ted and I wanna keep writing more of him hehe I cannot wait to write the gala ep I'll leave it up to your imagination for now. also!! lacy and roy's friendship is gonna be the end of me I swear <3 im gonna try to have a chapter out every other day :)

taglist: @nerdgirljen

[flashyourgreeneyesatme]

Paris - A miniseries Jamie Tartt x F/Reader

Hi, babies I was inspired to write this mini-series because honestly, I was looking for Jamie Tartt smut and couldn't find any I was desperate. Then saw this post by @yungbludz expressing exactly how I felt. So took matters into my own hands. This is one of 3 installments leading up to you guessed it smut! Jamie Tartt, baby girl I’m sorry for what I’m gonna put you through in this series. I love you I promise.

PARIS - CHAPTER 1 (DID YOU SEE THE PHOTOS?)

Warnings for this chapter: So many swear words I’m sorry I belong on a sailors ship with my mouth most of the time, Adultery!, honestly dickhead boyfriend, I DON’T THINK THE READER SHOULD BE FEELING THIS OKAY SHE’S BEEN MANIPULATED INTO FEELING THIS! Rugby players? The sun. The media. Jack Grealish (yep he gets his own warning), talking of sex. No use of name or y/n. *Iain Stirling impression* A relationship hits the rocks.

Context: Okay so the reader is currently dating Sebastian Love a fake rugby player I’ve made. Very much inspired by that episode of Ted Lasso where Keeley and Ted have that article scare. Also, any political stances are jokes. This chapter is really short sorry. Seb is a dick.

"What the fuck?!" Sebastian yells as he slams our front door open, okay mate we get it you're a rugby player but please don't break the only entrance to our home. This could be a reaction to a bad practice or something has gone down, either way, this will come back onto me and will not end pretty.

"You alright?" I ask as he storms into the room to stand directly facing me with only the crappy coffee-stained table separating us. Stupid question, regretted asking it almost instantly but words are said and you can't rewrite them just because later on you wish it'd been something different. His eyes are so big and bright right now and not in like the way they usually are, almost doll-like in nature little shimmer, no now there was no little shimmer, no light to be seen at all in those soulless eyes. 

"You tell me. Huh? Tell me all about your new little boyfriend." His fucking teammates I swear to god they know not to wind him up it will end badly and he’ll believe it. 

"What’s happened, Seb? Tell me. You can’t come in here yelling at me, accusing me of cheating so use your words. Who would I possibly be cheating on you with?” God, I sound a bit patronising, he is a grown man, not a child.

“Okay gonna play dumb then? Let me give you a hint. Footballer, messy hair, talks like a twat.” He counts these adjectives on his fingers. Oh, surely he’s not talking about.

“I ain’t fucking Jack Grealish!” Ain’t even met the man, he is on the list though, gotta thing for footballers who I’ll never have a chance with.

“Jamie Tartt,” I BEG YOUR PARDON? Oh god, he knows I don’t know how he knows but he knows that Jamie tried to kiss me 3 months ago. I’m gonna die alone this is him breaking it off, he’s only just moved in 2 weeks ago.

“I ain’t fucking him either! You need to stop listening to guys on your team y’know they’re doing it to wind you up.” 

“Explain this then.” He dramatically slams down a newspaper with the front page displaying the headline ‘SEBASTIAN'S LOVE NOW JAMIE’S TARTT’ This is the Sun. Aka one of the most biased shithole of a paper. I say these exact words to him. “Oh so you’re calling me stupid now are you?” I don’t like this. This isn’t a comfortable feeling. I want him to leave. “You gonna say anything bitch?”

“Get out.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

“What?” His voice is the polar opposite of mine, ear drum bursting, heartbreaking.

"I said get out. If you want to choose to believe this newspaper instead of your actual girlfriend then I choose to kick you out."

"But I live here." Hah, not for long.

"For like 2 weeks, you haven't even got to help out with rent yet so really you have no jurisdiction here" Big word for me. "So get out or I won't hesitate to call the sun up and say so much worse." I redact my comment earlier he is a child as he storms out with a pout on his face and a huff. "I'll drop your stuff off on Friday." A little wave goodbye and a door slam later and I am on the sofa shell shocked.

He was a dick. Like damn, I stayed with him for 2 and a half years and he's only just moved in? That was a red flag. I just feel stupid for delaying it this long and letting this be the final straw.

Tonight. Who needs a man when I can read porn and drink wine.

6 glasses of wine and a message from Jamie Tartt reading ‘Drinks tonight?’ later and well you’ll have to wait to hear the rest.

A/N:

Holy crap I did it, I know its short but this is just a buildup to the good shit. And what fanfic of mine would it be if it didn’t relate just the tiniest bit back to Taylor Swift. Well I hope to see you again when I update next which will hopefully be Friday! Glad you read. If you have any critics or stuff you think would be cool to add either comment of dm me I want as many minds on this as possible. 

AL

[daydreamgoddess14]

Noisy

Roy Kent x F!Reader - smutty one shot based on the prompt above originally sent to @onceuponaoneshotfanfic. A somewhat sequel to Complaints Procedure

MASTERLIST

~~~~~

Remarkably, being bent over your desk by Roy Kent hadn't made things weird. He'd been courteous and gentlemanly while you got straightened out and went to the bathroom to clean up, he'd been polite and kind when you'd both left work at the same time, and he'd instigated nothing since. He'd nodded hello if he passed you in the corridor or car park and it was as if nothing at all had ever happened. He'd looked a little shocked when you'd first crossed paths and you'd continued exactly as you had before, as if he thought you might be awkward, but once he realised that wasn't the case, everything was as it was before. You hadn't stumbled across him alone again, but you hadn't sought him out either. You'd mostly expected him to be joking about it happening again, you definitely weren't counting on it. You were busy with the contract for the team's newest player, Dani Rojas, signed, sealed and media appearances all accounted for, you just needed to make sure that Dani had a copy for his own records. It was late enough in the day that the team had finished up, so you took the contract to Ted. You made some small talk about Jamie and his behaviour, and told Ted his options on the best course of action. You were heading back to your office for the last hour of the day when a hand shot out of the boot room and yanked you inside by the wrist. 

"Oh fuck!" You squeak, startled. 

"Oi, you better watch your fuckin' mouth," Roy growls, his voice near your ear in the darkness. Your body aches suddenly for him, the no nonsense tone already putting you in a spin. He turned you to face him, not letting go of your wrist. "Miss me?" He says quietly. Once again, you know there is no point in hiding the truth. He can practically feel you vibrating with anticipation. 

"I think this is not the recommended complaints process, Mr Kent." He chuckles, backing you into the door.

"You gonna tell me off?" 

"Depends, are you gonna behave?"

"Me? I'm always on my best behaviour." He leans down to kiss you, his arms looping around your waist. As he deepens the kiss, his hands move to push your skirt up your legs to bunch at your hips. The better access means he can lift you up and press you fully against the door. He's rock hard against your core, separated only by the thin fabric of your knickers and his jogging bottoms. You clench your thighs, gasping when his hips buck against you. You moan, quietly, letting his kiss swallow the sound. "No one's here, we can be as loud as we want." He tells you, rolling against you again. You shake your head, 

"Oh god, Roy," you need to let him know that Ted's still around, preferably before he has you screaming his name, "no, Ted's still here."

"He doesn't fucking count. Unless you want him to hear what I'm doing to you?"

"Don't you fucking dare." You warn, "you're good, Roy, but I'm not some dumb little tart who'll do anything for it." You've got his chin gripped in your hand and he mirrors it, his hand resting lightly between your chin and throat.

"You look good with my hands around your throat." He says gruffly. You grind your hips against him, feeling him harden even more as you do so. 

"Are you going to fuck me, or shall I just go ahead and sort myself out?" You bring your hand from his chin, down between your bodies where you can just about graze a fingertip over your clit, you circle it lightly over your underwear, shivering in his arms. His grip around you tightens, pinning your arm in place, his eyes dark.

"Do it." He challenges. You circle again, letting your hips roll and your core press against the length of his cock. Your breath quickens, 

"God Roy, you've got me so wet again." 

"Let me hear you babe," With your back against the door and your body fused to his, there's hardly any space to move your hand, but the friction does most of the work for you. You come quickly, and he wastes no time in dragging his joggers just down enough to free himself. He pushes into you, pausing just slightly as the door knocks in the frame at the motion. You kiss just under his ear and whisper, 

"Fuck me, Roy." He braces a hand on the door to dull the sound and thrusts into you over and over. It's not long before you're rambling his name, each stroke sending you deliriously close to the edge. His fingertips dig in where he's holding you up against the door, and the little pinch of pain is exquisite. Sensing that you definitely won't be able to stay quiet, he kisses you hard as you both come. You're not sure he was quite so successful in stopping the door from rattling on its hinges, though. Your head falls onto his shoulder, both of you breathless. He leans into you, his head on your chest, and lets the door and his body hold your weight so he can give his arms a break. You run your hand through his hair, "need to move babe, you'll get hurt if we stay like this." Reluctantly, he helps you down and pulls his joggers back up. He gets a towel from the shelf behind him and cleans you up as much as he can in the dark, pulling your knickers off and your skirt back down into place. You hold your hand out for your underwear, but he shakes his head with a little laugh and pockets them. 

"Maybe next time." He kisses you lightly and leaves the boot room, whistling. 

no ones here we can be as loud as we want + you better watch your fucking mouth & you look good with my hands around your throat and with my man Roy Kent 😏

I’m looking for filth lmao 🤣

Thank youuuu🩵

AHHHH ��

Sooooo I literally just posted my first real attempt at spiciness and it was pretty tame imo, so this ^^^^ is a bit out of my wheelhouse 😵‍💫

Although I hope someone who's good at smut sees this and writes it because I want to read it

[softsliders29]

I Thought You Hated Me (Jamie Tartt x gn!reader)

When the reader is forced to share a bed with Jamie feelings are shared.

Rating: T

Warning: small angst

A/N: Wrote something up for Jamie and will probably write something for Sam as well. But if you have any ideas or requests please send them my way!!

You were sort of Keeley’s assistant. That was your unofficial title. So you joined the team on away games. And usually you got to share a room with Keeley. Most hotels had two beds per room so you each would take a bed and stay up talking and watching tv. She was a great friend to you so you quite enjoyed the away games.

But ever since she’d started dating Roy she usually slept with him. You understood why of course, but you usually ended up bunking with whoever didn’t have a room. Sometimes it was Ted, sometimes Rebecca, sometimes it was a player. All of the time it was purely professional and nice. You each went to your separate beds and got good sleep.

But of course this time a wrench had to be thrown into the whole system. First off, you were stuck with Jamie. Sure, he was better nowadays, but you couldn’t help but still have a bit of a bad taste in your mouth when it came to him. He was a prick to you. He hadn’t been recently, but that still didn’t matter. And on top of that he had the audacity to be attractive! The nerve of that guy.

Second off, the room you got stuck with only had one bed. Well, that was just great. Everyone else had two and Ted offered to change with you, ever the gentleman, but you didn’t want him to have a hard time sleeping. He was the coach after all. You could afford to not get good sleep.

No, you just sucked it up, making your way to the room. When you walked in, Jamie was on the floor.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

“Getting settled for the night.” He said as if it was obvious.

“No, this isn’t going to work. You should take the bed. You have to play tomorrow.” You were surprised he hadn’t already taken the bed. But apparently he was reformed. This was slowly starting to make you think he was.

“Slept in worse conditions.” He shrugged. Knowing a little bit about his dad, you felt bad for him.

“That doesn’t change anything, get on the bed.” You said. He smirked.

“Are you propositioning me?”

“I’m surprised you know that word.” You said sarcastically. He only laughed but made no signs of getting up. You sighed and shook your head. “Stop being dumb. I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” You said, taking your night stuff into the bathroom.

When you exited the bathroom he was still on the floor. He got up though, but headed for the bathroom, not saying anything. You saw this as the perfect opportunity. When the door shut, you laid on the ground in the spot he’d previously been. Now he had to take the bed.

When he made his way out of the bathroom and saw you, he gave a small laugh before walking over.

“Get your ass up, we’re both sleeping in the bed.” He said, accompanying it with an eye roll. You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you sure? That wouldn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“It’d make me more uncomfortable knowing you were sleeping on the ground. Now come on, I don’t have all night.” He said, offering a hand to pull you up. You accepted it and took the pillow with you.

“If I wake up in the middle of the night and you’re on the ground I’m dragging you back up here.” You threatened, though you knew that was probably impossible. He was a professional football player and you? Well, you weren’t.

He laughed but shook his head, moving the covers to get in after turning out the light. You joined, keeping as much distance from him as possible. He seemed to notice.

“I’m not gonna bite or anything. You don’t have to fall off the bed or anything. Or am I just that revolting to you?” He said jokingly, but it didn’t sound like he put much effort into it. You rolled over to face him.

“I don’t think you're revolting. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Would you be uncomfortable?” He asked. You thought for a moment but shook your head. “Alright then. Neither would I.” He said, gesturing for you to come closer.

You finally relented, scooting closer, but only by a few inches. He didn’t seem like he was going to say anything else on the matter.

But he wasn’t done talking.

“I know this isn’t ideal for you but it’s just for a night.” He said. You were confused at this.

“I mean, yeah, this wasn’t what I had in mind for tonight. But I wouldn’t say it’s not ideal.”

“You practically hate me. I get it, don’t get me wrong, but I figured you’d object more to this.” He said.

“I don’t hate you. I’m actually really proud to see you aren’t a prick anymore. But you were rude to me and I can’t help but be a little suspicious about the whole thing.” You said frankly. He sighed. “I know. And I’m sorry. There was no reason for it except that it made me feel a bit better. Only for a second and then I’d feel like complete shit again. But I never intend on doing that again. I’m trying to be better.”

“I can tell. I’m glad you’re trying. I’d say it’s a success.” You said with a small smile.

“I’m happy you think so.” He smiled back. You laid like that for a moment until something hit you.

“So is this ideal for you?” You questioned. He seemed to not hear at first and you were about to ask again until he finally spoke.

“What? I mean, it could be worse. I don’t mind who’s with me.” He said with a shrug. “Just thought the first time we’d share a bed would be under other circumstances.” Your eyes widened but he shook his head. “Shit sorry. Force of habit.” He quickly said.

You stayed silent for a moment and he scooted away, adding more space between the two of you. You spoke up suddenly, heartbeat running wild.

“Have you thought about that?” You asked, looking anywhere but him.

“Yeah, but I’ve thought about it with pretty much everyone. Except Ted.” He said and you laughed, though you were a bit disappointed at that.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” You tried to keep the disappointment out of your voice. But he seemed to catch it anyway.

“I keep coming back to you though.” He said and you met his eyes.

“Why is that?”

“Because I think you’re amazing. And funny. ...And fit.” He admitted. You laughed at the last bit. But it did make your face heat up. You hoped he didn’t notice in the darkness of the room.

“High praise. Thanks.” You said. “But I think you’re amazing too. You’re strong, not just physically, but mentally too.” You said. “And you’re not bad looking either.”

You could see his smile in the darkness, brighter than before.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked. You nodded, moving closer.

He cupped your face and kissed you. It was passionate, laced with words unspoken. Feelings just now realized. It was breathtaking.

You both pulled back after a few moments, but neither of you moved too far away from each other.

“I really like you. After the game can I take you on a proper date?” He asked.

“I’d love that.” You said.

You kissed a few more times before sleep took you both. You woke up to his arms around you. You wouldn’t mind waking up like that more often, you thought to yourself. And you couldn’t wait until your date.

[mikkomacko]

Sweet As Honey 18

Hello everyone! Here she is! Thank you all so much for being so patient with me and this chapter. I hope it lives up to the hype and the wait lol. I'd also like to say that I will still be writing and finishing this series as well as my other in progress ones. However, I'm currently feeling like I'm not that interested in Harry right now and I feel like it's mostly all the drama and everything going on with him right now so updates will be slow. Also I've changed my theme to a Marvel x One Direction theme because I've decided to take one of my Bucky Barnes plot and actually publish it. I'll still post Harry because of course I love him but he won't be the main focus of this blog anymore.

Thanks for waiting and reading. Hope you enjoy the chapter! X

Harry's good under pressure. At least looking from the outside in, he is. It's a skills he's picked up from boxing. Always pretend you know what's going on. No surprises, no shocks. If he's in a fight and his opponent is stronger or faster than he originally thought, he doesn't show it. Acting like it was expected, like he planned it rattles others and helps him maintain his grace.

He keeps that same approach when it comes to interviews.

Liam meets him outside the gym, waving with a bright smile that Harry just smiles at, shocked to find his trainer in the parking garage rather than the ring.

"What's going on mate?" Harry greets, trying to step around him to get to the stairs but Liam halts him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Gotta reporter here who wants to chat with you about recovering from your concussion and reaching the finals."

His tone is laced with hesitance, lips pursed in suppressed grimace and Harry doesn't blame him. Liam knows how much Harry hates interviews. They're his least favorite part of the job. He's here to box and get paid, to provide for his family, not to tell the world every detail of his life.

"Oh," Harry mumbles, shrugging and stepping up to the door. "Alright. Only for a few minutes though, wanna get home a little early today."

If Liam is surprised by Harry's ease he doesn't show it. "Got something going on?"

Harry follows Liam inside, nodding to Mark at the front desk. "Y/n has just been exhausted lately and Arlo can't spend a second alone without screaming bloody murder. Just want to be there to make sure she's resting and Arlo's not being a pest."

"He's your son, of course he's being in a pest."

The comment leaves too much pride in Harry's chest for him to even care that Liam just insisted he himself is a pest. Besides, Harry knows he's clingy and a little too attached but that's just how his relationship with y/n is, and they love it.

In his private locker room,Harry finds the reporter, a young girl who can't be too far out of undergrad with dark hair and a bright red lips. She's sat on the bench, a notepad on her thigh and her phone resting next to it.

"Hello Mr. Styles." She greets, shaking his hand when he approaches her. "I'm Rebecca Weese."

Harry takes a seat next to her, nodding. "Nice to meet you. I don't have a lot of time today but I can answer a few of your questions if we can make it quick." He smiles guiltily, hoping to not come off as rude.

She nods, immediately glancing down at her notepad and crossing some things out. Harry assumes they're questions she's decided aren't important enough. "Is it ok if I record this? Just sound of course."

Again, he nods, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie as he waits for her to begin. Tapping at her phone, she places it between them to catch both voices and then scans her notes again.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but you've only been boxing for a few years, right?"

Harry shrugs. "I trained a lot when I was teenager, worked under Ted until he decided to bring me up to the pros. Was about 20 I think when that happened." He tries to stay vague, knowing he can't tell the public that his "training" was an illegal boxing ring.

"Five-Six years is a short amount of time to be included in a tournament like this one. Most contenders are well into their careers before being qualified to participate. What do you think has been the main factor in your success?"

Routine question, and he's got a routine answer. "I was fortunate enough to figure out early on that boxing is what I wanted to do and I think that helped out a lot. I also got a very good team behind me. My trainer, manager, my wife, they're all the main factors in my success. I'm very grateful to have them."

Rebecca smiles a bit, jotting down a few words. "Does your wife work in the industry?"

It's her casual tone, as if she were a friend just wanting to hear him brag about his lover that has him answering so honestly.

"No she works in design but I met her early in my career and she's always supported me. Takes care of me after bad matches and whatnot, always comes to my fights even if it means being on her feet for hours. Which isn't exactly her favorite thing at the moment with the baby-"

Harry stops, eyes widening a bit at what he's just revealed. Part of him wishes desperately that Rebecca didn't hear him but he knows that's impossible.

"I didn't know you're a father," she says kindly, sensing his panic. "Do you want to talk about it more or should I scratch that part?"

He doesn't know what makes him say it. A year ago he'd have fled the room if he were questioned about his family. Harry likes to keep them separate, to keep his kids away from his boxing. It's possibly a small part of him that's conditioned to keep his work a secret from his family even if he doesn't have to. But Rebecca's offer to drop the whole topic is what breaks him.

"S'ok," he says "I've got a son that's about a year old and another on the way."

Her eyes light up, beaming at him and he grins shyly but somehow proudly at the same time. "That's awesome. Congrats. I know your son's young but does he have any part in your career? Influence maybe?"

"He doesn't watch any of my fights or anything. Too young to be around violence like that but he does affect my fighting in a way. I used to go into boxing with just the mentality that I'm doing something I love, but now I've got the added success. A win means more support for my family and I want them to always have what they need so I've got sort of an edge there."

"Like having something to fight for?" She confirms, and Harry nods immediately.

"Yeah. I'd do anything for them and I think that makes me a bit dangerous in the ring."

No matter what, he'll always be fighting for them. Everything he does is for y/n and his boys.

~

The house smalls of tomato sauce and pasta when Harry walks in, mouth instantly watering and stomach rumbling. He had a light breakfast this morning before going to the gym and now that's he burnt off all that energy he reckons he could eat a horse. Dropping his keys on the table in the entryway, toeing off his sneakers, and dropping his gym bag to the floor, Harry makes a beeline for the kitchen. He's so caught up in wanting to eat he doesn't notice the TV playing a Disney movie or the two figures sprawled out on the couch until one of them is calling for him.

"Daddy!" Arlo's head pops up over the cushions, dimples sunk into his cheeks and eyes bright. Harry immediately changes course, coming up behind the couch and meeting Arlo's outstretched arms.

"'Ello bug," Harry greets, smacking a kiss to his cheek. Arlo coos happily, curling up against Harry's shoulder. Y/n is watching them with a small smile, a hand resting easily over the stretched fabric of his tee-shirt she's wearing. "And hello darling." He leans over the back of the couch to press a crooked kiss to her lips.

"Hi baby," she sits up, smiling dreamily at him. "How was the gym?"

Harry shrugs, adjusting Arlo on his hip. "Was good. I had an interview today about finals and....stuff." Her eyebrow quirks up at his hesitancy to continue.

"What stuff?"

Gnawing on his bottom lip, Harry drops his gaze to Arlo. "You, Arlo, the baby." She doesn't respond immediately and he knows it’s because she’s trying to analyze him. He's fairly private about his family, especially his children and the only reason he'd informed the world of Arlo was to get people off his back about leaving y/n, so he knows she's probably confused by his ease with talking about the new baby.

"How'd it go?" She asks, pushing herself up from the couch with a hand on her belly. Without hesitation Harry reaches out to place his free hand over hers, moving her with him towards the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"M'starving darling," he says and his stomach grumbles in agreement, making Arlo gurgling back and nudge his foot into Harry's tummy. "But interview went well. Announced the pregnancy."

"You did?" She questions, perching herself on the counter stool with wide eyes. "Seems a bit early compared to Arlo's announcement."

Managing as best he can with one free hand, Harry retrieves a bowl from the cabinet and serves himself a heaping mountain of spaghetti. "Just came out if m'being honest," he shrugs, settling into the stool next to her with Arlo still glued to his lap. "'sides it's different this time. He was my first baby and I was scared."

He doesn't realize that she's fallen silent until he's slurping back noodles and she doesn't scold him. Curiously, Harry rotates just enough to look at her. Y/n is staring at him, eyes big and moony when he mumbles a suspicious "wha'?"

"You were scared?"

Swallowing down his food, he nods. Her intent gaze brings a blush to his cheeks and he has to drop his eyes to peer down at Arlo. "Y-yeah. Didn't know if he'd like me as his dad, ya know?"

Harry's never said those words out loud, now that he's come to think of it. Whenever something's pertained to Arlo, Harry was always the positive reinforcement, the one reassuring y/n about them stepping into parenthood. He never really told her how much it scared him because he didn't want to scare her.

"I-I didn't know that," she mumbles. "Why didn't you say anything?"

He shrugs, lifting his gaze from Arlo to y/n. "Because I wanted to be a good dad. Ya know, like the kind that can kill spiders and scare aware bad dreams.....Just wanted to be strong I guess."

He doesn't say it, but he knows she's picked up the fear he won't acknowledge. He doesn't want to be his dad. His father was great but the sad thing is, everything great about him was brought out by alcohol. Des needed that poison to combat his own fears and insecurities, and Harry doesn't want to be like that too. He doesn't want to leave his kids the same way he was left.

"Being scared doesn't make you weak Harry."

She leans over to press a tender kiss to his jaw, belly brushing against his side, and he thinks about those words for the remainder of the day.

~

Crouched down, Harry steers the shopping cart with one hand and guides Arlo along with the other one. By the way he's trudging along, Harry knows Arlo is getting tired of walking. It's good for him to practice though, so Harry leads him along for another few minutes before scooping him up in one arm.

"Did so well bug." Harry compliments, pecking Arlo's cheek. The toddler curls up into his chest, yawning. It's a bit difficult steering the cart with one hand but Harry manages, steadily making his way up and down each aisle. He gets baby cereal for Arlo, a couple bags of puffy hot Cheetos to stash in the cabinets, and he's stocking up on y/n's latest craving (spaghetti-o's and meatballs) when a familiar face rounds the corner.

Zayn is pushing a cart filled groceries, eyes scanning up and down the shelves and Harry curses under his breath. The last person he wants to see right now is Zayn. Last time they had a run in he said something that bothered y/n and Harry never wants anything to bother his girl.

In an attempt to hide, Harry pulls his hood up over his head, shrinking into his pullover and craning his neck to not make eye contact with his old friend. Grabbing a few cans of the fake pasta y/n is living off of, Harry sets them in the cart and quickly walks down the aisle. A man who looks a few years older than Harry moves towards him, stepping around Zayn and in front of Harry's cart.

"Excuse me," the man stops him, gaze dropping to the boy against his chest for half a second before regretfully meeting Harry's eyes. "m'so sorry to bother, didn't notice the little one-"

"It's fine." Harry cuts off, glancing at Zayn to make sure his back is still to them. It is and Harry relaxes a bit at that, but his curiosity grows. "How can I help you sir?"

The man smiles, grateful. "I just wanted to tell you that m'son and I are big fans and we're excited for your fight this weekend."

Harry knows he has fans, he's run into a few around the city but they're usually teens and kids that want an autograph. He's never had a grown man approach him about his career and it's odd. Flattering, but odd.

"Thanks man. I really appreciate your support." Harry says sincerely, smiling. The man nods in response, taking a step away from Harry. He moves to leave but stops last minute, turning back to Harry.

"Congrats on the baby news too." He says quickly, almost shy or embarrassed. Before Harry can even thank him, the man is rushing out a "have a good day" and then he's moving down the aisle.

Confused, Harry stands there for a moment trying to figure out what happened. He knew announcing the new baby would bring more attention to him in the media and he's not surprised that that man, who's clearly a fan, had already heard it. He is surprised that the man seemed almost scared to admit to Harry that he knows.

"Harry?"

Fuck.

He looks up, meeting the golden eyes that could only belong to Zayn. Harry doesn't even bother trying to smile at his old friend as he stands in front of Harry's cart. A lady maneuvers around them, murmuring a soft "excuse me sir." Harry scoots his cart over, smiling apologetically.

"How have you been man?"

Harry's gaze returns to it's impassive expression, glancing over Zayn's too-bright presence. "I've been good." Harry responds, moving Arlo to his other arm when he starts to lose feeling in his fingers. The movement draws Arlo out of his nap-like state, the toddler now noticing Zayn standing in front of them. Immediately his face scrunches into a look of annoyance.

If Zayn notices, he must not care because he smiles at Arlo, teeth dazzling. "That's good to hear. Congratulations on the baby, by the way! Saw the article up front. S'amazing!"

Article? Harry lips are just starting to form his question when his phone rings, the tune specific to y/n. "Sorry, gotta take this." Harry says in Zayn's direction, digging into his pocket and retrieving his phone. He hits answer before Zayn can even respond.

"Hi darling."

Harry wiggles Arlo into the basket. "Hi H. You still at the store?"

He pushes the cart down the aisle, not caring that he's left his old friend hanging. "Yeah I am. What's up"

The sound of a running faucet comes through the speaker. "Forgot to add yogurt bites to the list. Arlo ate the last of 'em last night and ya know how he is if he doesn't have any before bed."

Harry snorts, steering towards the baby food aisle. Arlo has fallen in love with yogurt bites and they've become his snack before bed. Harry thinks he shouldn't be having them every night and he'd tried to tell Arlo that two nights ago, but Arlo is a stubborn thing. He screamed his head off, ignored Harry's attempts at giving him fresh fruit instead, and then only calmed down after y/n nursed him.

"I'll grab 'em darling. No worries." He assures, tossing a couple bags of the bites into the cart. "Anything else?"

"Do we still have the old flower vases from our wedding in the garage?" She asks.

"Umm, I think so. You expecting flowers from a secret lover or something?" Harry jokes, eyes catching on a pack of bibs hanging in the aisle.

"Not unless you've got a trick up your sleeve Styles." She retorts.

He tosses a pack into the basket. "Buy you a whole flower shop if that's what ya want darling." Arlo grumbles from the baby seat of the cart, tiny fingers coming up to play with the rings on Harry's fingers that are locked around the steering bar.

"Don't worry about that, we've got enough flowers." Y/n laughs and he can hear her moving around the house. "Three bouquets just arrived with congratulations cards."

"What?"

"Guess the baby announcement was well accepted." She says. "We're getting lots of flowers for it."

Pushing towards the checkout, Harry frowns in confusion. "Got stopped by a fan today for the same thing. Can't believe it's such a big deal."

"Well you're more known now than when we were having Arlo." She reasons, and Harry hums his agreement. He passes the self checkouts, freezing when he spots numerous copies of his face on the ends of the aisle.

"Holy shit," he breathes, not even thinking about the innocent ears before him. Y/n gasps through the phone, scolding him for his language. "Sorry darling, s'just I'm bloody plastered all over the grocery store."

He reads over the cover of the sports magazine. It's got a big photo of him in the ring, gloves held up to his chin and jaw tight around his mouth guard. Next to it is a photo of him and y/n leaving a big fight awhile back. She's got her head down, hand snug in his as he leads her along. And written in bold yellows is "Harry Styles Expecting Baby #2 As He Prepares for Biggest Fight Yet!"

"They put me on the front page." He tells her, not bothering to flip open the article before he's quickly moving away from the display. "Why would they do that?"

When he did that interview, he thought it'd be a small, breezy section in the magazine. If he had known he'd be getting stopped in the grocery store and flowers sent to his house he wouldn't have said anything. As previously mentioned, he's a private guy, so having this detail projected in a way he wasn't warned about makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

"It's alright Harry," y/n says reassuringly, knowing that he's become anxious at the publicity. "No harm done. It's just flowers bub and as long as we've got those vases in the garage, everyone will survive."

He chuckle weakly at her joke, picking an aisle so he can quickly checkout and go home. "Don't go digging around for them by yourself, don't need ya falling and getting hurt. I'll help ya when I get home."

"Aw my hero." She coos, and he knows she's teasing but it still makes him blush. God he loves her.

~

"Those bloody things are making my nose itch." Harry grumbles, aggressively rubbing the palm of his hand into his burning nostrils. He glares at the bouquet of peonies on the dresser, a gift from y/n's co-workers, and moves towards the bed.

Y/n is propped up against the headboard, a pair of his pajama bottoms on her legs but her shirt has been abandoned on the carpet by the bed. Arlo is attached to her hip, mouth latched to her nipple and she's stroking through his soft hair while he breastfeeds. Harry's heart throbs in his chest, warmed by the sight of his wife coddling their baby, and he's so fucking in love with her he's anxious to get Arlo into bed so he can have his way with her.

"I can't just throw them out, H." She sighs, pulling her gaze from the television to his pouty face. He huffs, running the damp towel in his hand through his hair one last time before haphazardly tossing it towards the closet. Kneeing his way up the bed, he curls into y/n's side and smiles when she tucks her arm around him.

"Stroke my hair too?" He mumbles, peering up with puppy eyes and she giggles before threading her fingers through his hair too. Arlo gurgles around a mouthful, bright green eyes opening to look at Harry. He worries for a moment that Arlo is going to get fussy and kick him away, but the toddler just blinks at him sleepily.

"Tha's ma boy." He coos fondly, squirming a hand over to pat Arlo's full tummy. Y/n giggles and continues to stroke his hair, Harry watching Arlo slowly be soothed to sleep. "Lemme get him to bed darling."

Grunting, he pushes himself up from the mattress and too his feet. Y/n transfers Arlo to his awaiting arms, swiping at the milk that dribbled out of his snoring lips and onto her skin. Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Wanna have a shag when I get back?"

A shocked laugh bursts out of her, Harry's face lighting up at the sound as his heart swells. He was trying to be a bit silly, not enough to have her eyes crinkling like that, but he's happy she finds him funny.

"Sure baby." She breathes, still grinning. His stomach flutters, excitement bubbling in his belly and he nods quickly before moving across the room.

Arlo stays cuddled into Harry's neck as he flicks on the nightlight in the nursery and adjusts the blankets in the crib. Theo watched Harry from his bed in the corner, sleepy puppy eyes following his every move. He lays Arlo down, gently shushing him when he store and tucks Bunny into his side. With a peck to his head and a quiet "good night bug," Harry partially shuts the bedroom door and rushes back into the bedroom.

Y/n has already kicked off her bottoms, leaving her naked on their sheets and Harry groans as he works to catch up with her. His shirt is playfully tossed at y/n's grinning face, Harry laughing as he wiggles out of his sweats. Naked as the day he was born, Harry jumps onto his knees at the bottom of the bed.

A laugh bubbles out of y/n when the whole bed shakes under his weight, clearly amused at how excited he is. She must be just as excited though because she quickly leans forward to cup his face, attaching their lips and bringing him back down to the pillows with her.

"Wanna be on top," he mutters into her mouth, ghosting his hand down her tummy and tickling his thumb over her clit. "f'that's ok?"

"Mmm," she hums, happily "too tired to top anyway."

Harry seals their lips together again, using his knees to spread her thighs a bit further apart for him. Her palms smooth down his sides and around to his back, a breathy moan interrupting their kiss courtesy of his fingers. Harry utilizes the chance to break away and snag a pillow from his side of the bed, urging her hips up by tapping the fluffy thing against her side. She lifts, and he settles it under her lower back and bum to prop her up. Luckily for him, he's had a lot of practice getting around a baby bump for a shag.

Settling between her thighs, Harry giggles when she wraps her legs around his hips and tugs him closer. His body hovers over hers, love-sick smiles a breath away from meeting each other, and he drags his fingers through her folds, groaning at how slick she's become.

"Don't even have to try anymore do I?" He teases with a wolfish smile, capturing her lips just as she rolls her eyes. Giggling, he leaves soft kisses across her cheek, heading towards the base of her jaw.

"S'the baby's fault honestly." She argues, her fingers disappearing into the damp locks sticking to the back of his neck.

He hums, smirking against her skin. "Is it?"

With a small tug she's pulling him back up to her mouth. "Yeah. Gets me revved up all the bloody time. I don't know what you're putting in there mister but it's exhausting."

Harry laughs quietly, nipping at her bottom lip. "Don't worry baby, I'm gonna take care of ya. S'my problem after all, isn't it?"

Y/n nods, biting back a grin as Harry grips his cock with the fingers that had previously been fondling her. Chest to chest, Harry smiles at the feeling of their stomachs pressed together as he guides the head of him into her slit.

The sigh that puffs out of her chest sends a zip of pleasure up his spine, as if she'd been partial without him and the pure relief of just having him in her is all she could ever want. Harry hums appreciatively, eyes fluttering shut as he basks in how warm and gooey she is for him. He'd almost forgotten how it felt to have her this desperate for him and his touch.

"Oh it's so good darling," he mumbles to her, dropping his head into the crook of her neck. He pulls his hips back, breath stuttering when he easily slips forward again.

Y/n moans softly, dropping one hand to the small of his back as if guiding him. "So so good H." She confirms in a whisper, her voice tickling his ear and he squirms with a small laugh at the sensation.

Harry's soft with his movements, cautious of the baby between them and the one sleeping down the hall. Even the kisses he places on her jaw and lips are tender, small brushes between their confirmations that he "feels so good" inside her and she was "made for being wrapped me huh?" And Harry thinks nothing ever been truer. Her arms were made to hold him, her hands were made for pulling him closer and closer, and her heart was made to completely consume his.

Y/n reaches her high before him, rolling her hips up to try and quicken his but he maintains his sensual thrusts, stroking her temple as she trembles and gasps, clinging to him in every way possible. There's something about how quick she falls apart for him when she's pregnant and how utterly earth shattering it is for her, that it completely obliterates any sense of stamina Harry's ever had. He couldn't care less when he follows shortly after, grinding down into her heat as his cock twitches and buries deep in her walls. She's the one stroking his temple this time, and he knows she's watching his eyes scrunch shut and his gaping mouth curl into a breathy laugh as he comes.

Maybe it's the lingering anxiety that washed over him at the grocery store, but when y/n kisses him and gently nudges him off of her so she can go pee, Harry's desperate as he grips her hand and pouts, practically begging when he asks "can I get back in ya after? Just to fall asleep darling?"

Of course she nods, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead to soothe him and just like that he already feels lighter. He never has to sorry with her, because they were made for loving each other.

~

"Oh fuck!"

"Would you stop being so loud! It's 8 in the morning!"

"Can't help it, darling."

Harry tightens his hold around y/n's thighs, dipping his tongue back into her slit and groaning loudly despite the warning she's already given him this morning. She tugs on his hair scoldingly, drawing a pained hiss out of him. Harry brings his teeth up to her clit, nibbling in retaliation. A pained hiss of her own leaves her lips, cut off by a soft moan as he soothes his tongue over the spot.

Grinding her hips up into his mouth, Harry can't help but push his own into the mattress and a deep groan escapes him as he does so. Huffing, y/n scolds him again for being too loud when they've got a sleeping child one room over.

"Stop yelling at me so I can make you cum." He purrs, lips brushing over her clit. Their eyes meet over the curves and dips of her body, Harry smirking when she raises a prodding eyebrow at him. He kisses her thigh just once, lapping his tongue through her slit and he's just reaching her most sensitive spot when the beginning stirs of Arlo waking up break through the baby monitor.

Simultaneous groans leave both their mouths, this time of frustration. Harry pouts, knocking his forehead on y/n's hip bone and shaking his head.

"I told you Styles." Y/n teases, stroking through his hair for a second. He can't even think of a rebuttal before Arlo is calling out softly for her, and she's pushing up from the bed to get dressed.

"Take care of that while I take care of this." She calls as she disappears through the door, snickering softly and leaving him there desperate for her. But then again, when is he not desperate for her?

~

Hey man, hope I'm not being a bother. I was just wondering if you wanted to go out for a drink Friday or something?

-Z

Harry stares at the message, wondering why Zayn would sign it when the Instagram handle is clearly him. He also wonders why the hell Zayn is trying to hang out with him now.

It's a sunny day, the air outside relatively warm for March so Harry slipped a sweater on Arlo and brought him out to the backyard to play. They're sat in the grass, Arlo between his legs as they teach Theo to play fetch. Arlo's gotten good at tossing the chew toy himself, so Harry used the free time to start clearing out the congratulations messages he's received on Instagram.

"What's the matter H?"

Harry locks his phone, tilting his head up and squinting into the sun as y/n stands over them. She's got a bowl of puffy hot Cheetos in her hand, cradling them as if they were a precious gem as she settles into the grass with them.

"Nothing," he mumbles, pecking her temple when she leans into his side. "just got a weird text from Zayn. He wants to hang out."

Crunching through a chip, she hums. "Did you know he lives here?"

She lifts up a Cheeto, offering it to him. Harry gladly takes it between his teeth, pulling it from her fingertips and crunching down on the puffy chip. Swallowing, he shakes his head.

"Ran into him at the store once around Valentine's Day," she says, eyes watching Arlo dig his stubby fingers into the dry grass. "Was trying to talk to me about you I think but your son threw a fit and I was too busy to care honestly."

"Really?" Harry asks, perking up at the idea of Arlo throwing a tantrum to keep people away from y/n. That's the only time he'll agree with such actions. "Taught him well then haven't I?"

Rolling her eyes, she elbows him. "If you're son grows up to be rude I'm going to kick your ass Harry Styles."

Laughing, he steals a chip from her, locking his phone and dropping it to the grass. Arlo, interested in the device, crawls over to pick it up.

"Wouldn't expect anything less darling." He says, reaching over to swipe his phone to the camera so Arlo can snap random pictures.

"What are you going to do about Zayn then?"

"Suppose I should see what he wants, yeah?"

Y/n shrugs but Harry can read the look on her face easily. She's always silently encouraged him to face things that need mending or fixing, and his past with Zayn is one of those things.

"S'done then," he laughs, pinching her side affectionately. "I'll figure out why he's so obsessed with me."

She laughs, throwing her head back and scrunching her nose in the way makes him want to stare at her forever. "Think it's that one he's obsessed with. Look how cute he is."

Harry follows her line of sight, smile growing at the sight of Arlo making faces at himself in Harry's camera.

So bloody cute.

~

"Are we gonna be besties? I think we're gonna be besties." Niall states, swinging an arm around y/n's shoulders. He's on his third beer of the night already and Harry hasn't even made it to the ring yet. Y/n just laughs, continuing to maneuver tape around Harry's fingers but he's not as kind.

Casting a glare at the Irish man, Harry calls out to Gemma. "Get your leprechaun off of my girl before I use him to warm up."

Niall isn't really phased by the words, only pouting softly at Harry's steel gaze but Gemma is quick to rush over and pull Niall up from the couch by his hand.

"Come on babe, let's go find our seats." She coos to him, sending Harry an apologetic smile. He waits for her and Niall to turn their backs before chuckling softly. Y/n pinches at his wrist.

"Be nice to Niall. I really like him."

"Oh you really like him, huh?" Harry huffs, nudging his knee against hers. She rolls her eyes, giggling when he slips his free hand around her waist and pulls her into his lap. "Please tell me how much you really like Niall darling." He requests, shoving his face in her neck and playfully biting at her throat and shoulder. Just as he'd expected, she giggles and squirms, Harry having to wrap her up in a bear hug to keep her from sliding right off his thigh.

"Harry! Stop!"

He laughs with her, moving up to bite at the apples of her cheeks and her nose, growling as if he were a rabid beast. His freshly taped knuckles ache under the tightness of the wrap as he grips her flailing legs but he ignores it in favor of listening to her laugh.

"I like you more! I swear!" She shouts between laughs, wiggling a hand free and gripping the back of his neck. Pleased with her words, Harry pants out a laugh before sealing his mouth to hers.

"Tha's good because I like you more than Niall too." He mumbles into her lips.

"You like me more than you like everyone." She chuckles, stroking her thumb along his jawline. Harry's eyes shine with delight, proud that she knows her place in his heart, but he still teases.

"Mmm almost darling. Quite like my son, ya know that?"

She rolls her eyes but looks at him fondly, pinching the meat of his cheek. "Cute," she murmurs, "now go get ready for your fight baby. Want everyone to see my husband's gonna be the national champion."

Her words bring a rush of blood to his cheeks (and his cock if he's being honest), but he nudges her onto the couch next to him. "Just need two more wins." He whispers in her ear, pecking her temple.

Just two more wins.

~

There's good fights and there's bad fights. Everyone knows that. But not everyone knows that there's good wins and bad wins. Harry's experienced a few of those bad ones. Wins that he probably shouldn't have gotten because he certain his opponent had landed more punches and the judges miscounted. Or it was clear the other fighter wasn't into it and let him win.

Harry thinks tonight is his worst win ever.

The fight had been good. Trinsky, tonight's opponent from New Jersey, was short and stocky but strong. Harry was quicker than him though so they'd gone back and forth for a few rounds. Nothing two rough, just enough punches to have bright red welts on his torso and an ache in his jaw.

He fought through it though, fueled by the sounds of y/n and Niall cheering for him. Win this fight and he's onto the championship match. So he went at it with all he had left, charging Trinsky just as the man knocked his fist into Harry's temple.

It felt like a lightning bolt of pain zapped through his brain, shaking his core and causing his feet to stumble. Trinsky slid to the right as Harry crashed into the ropes, blinking furiously as the room around him spun. He was still in a daze as his body moved on its own, quick enough to uppercut his left fist into Trinsky's chin. The man crumbled to the mat, out cold, and Harry's dizzy head brought him down as well.

There's cheering and an announcement of his name, declaring Harry the winner but he can't seem to focus on it. Trinsky is being moved from the ring by his team, Harry falling to his bum on the mat as he rips at the velcro of his gloves with his teeth.

The room is coming back into focus, someone is calling him from the side of the ring but he doesn't recognize the voice so it goes ignored. He gets his hands free, rubbing his fingers into the tender spot on his head and wincing. He needs to take some Advil and ice it.

Harry climbs to his feet, a bit disoriented as he ducks under the ropes to leave. He knows he's got a team here somewhere but his mind can't seem to recognize what they look like or how to find them.

"Man, what are you doing?"

He turns, confused to find two men watching him like he's grown a second head. Harry feels like he knows the warm brown eyes of the taller man but he's not sure from where. Smiling uncomfortably, he motions behind him.

"I n-need ice or something." He says, excusing himself with a shrug and turning back to the locker room. He doesn't like the way his stomach twists or how his chest is telling him he knows those men when he couldn't even tell you there names right now. His heart thunders in his chest, panic seeping in and he's desperate to find something or someone that'll just help him out.

"Harry baby," she says calmly, a hand rubbing up his bare back comfortingly. "you okay?"

Y/n appears at his side, head tilted so she can meet his nervous gaze. Almost immediately he latches onto her hand, shaking his head. Her eyebrows crease, lips frowning as she reaches to cup his cheek.

"What's going on H? What's the matter?"

"M'head hurts," he answers immediately. "I-I think I forgot my team."

A trembling breath leaves his lips, tears stinging behind his eyes when he sees the concern on his wife's face. She brushes her thumb over his temple, the one she knows got hit the hardest, and then brushes a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead to place a tender kiss there.

"Let's get you to the locker room babe."

He follows like a lost puppy, trailing behind her through the back hallway and into his locker room. Y/n closes the door behind him before anyone else can enter, twisting the lock. Harry sits in the closest chair, fiddling with the tape on his fingers as he tries to calm down.

"Do you want to talk to me bub?" Y/n asks quietly, pulling up a seat directly in front of him. He nods, lifting his gaze from his hands to her face.

"I don't know what happened. It's like I got hit in the head and everything got shook up." He explains, frowning. He hates the way this feels. Hates that his body is screaming at him to just remember but his brain refuses to accept the message. "I know them, I know I do but s'like their names and stuff are just gone."

Y/n inhales sharply, biting nervously at her bottom lip. Harry's not even sure what to say and that makes him feel so much worse. He doesn't even feel like he has a concussion, not really. Everything else is still there, still in the forefront of his mind. His wife, his boys, Anne and Gemma. And he faintly remembers sitting at bars with one of the men from his team, remembers crashing on his couch late at night. But the soul of those memories are gone.

"I'm gonna get you some painkillers and water okay babe? Then we'll figure out what to do."

He nods, smiling wetly when she kisses his forehead. Watching her move around the room to gather water and whatnot, Harry wills himself to just think. He knows these men, he's just gotta focus on it. A memory stands out, one of the three of them in a car on a road trip. His trainer is driving, his manager in the passenger seat and he knows this is a trip for a match. A recent match too because he remembers saying goodbye to Arlo and y/n, kissing her swollen belly before he went.

Y/n returns to him with a bottle of water and a couple pills, watching him cautiously as he squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to just think. Recalling conversations from the car, remembering the screen in the front of the vehicle that reads Connected to Liam's iPhone. Liam. Almost instantly Nick's name floods his brain again and he feels his whole body tremble with relief.

Harry takes the medicine, gulping it down and slumping into his seat. "Nick and Liam," he finally murmurs, voice thick. "I couldn't remember darling. They were right in front of me and I couldn't remember their fucking names."

A silent tear trails down his cheek, Harry sniffling as y/n wipes it away with a tender touch he's only felt from her. "Its ok Harry. We'll figure out what happened. At least you remember now baby." She tried to comfort, but Harry's heart still aches.

"What if-" he peers up at her through wet eyelashes. "what if it had been you? Or Arlo? Or all three of you? What if I-"

He can't even finish the thought before he's shaking his head, more tears slipping down his cheeks and jaw. What would he have done if he'd looked at y/n and not remembered her name? Not remembered the beautiful son they created? Or the one she's growing now?

"It wasn't Harry," she stays sternly, cutting into his spiralling thoughts. "it wasn't and even if it did happen, it wouldn't change a thing. You're not getting rid of us."

Trying to smile, he nods and takes a deep breath. He trusts her, more than anyone, and he's never known someone that fights as much as she does. He knows, no matter what, that she'll always have his back.

[certifiedceraunophile]

For the Would You Ever Write ask, because I want to see your angry/controversial opinions: would you ever write AU/AH? Klaus can't be a criminal. They have to both be normal people. He can't stab or eat anyone. (And if you would write this, what would the set-up be?) Also, because I know the answer, but I want to see you foam at the mouth: would you ever, under any circumstances, write Caroline as meek?

Firs of all. It’s 9 fucking am in the morning and I hope you’re happy that the first thing I did today was curse your cursed name; I went: Jenn. That Fucking Bitch.

But anyway, Here’s the thing: I actually have this one very specific AH/AU where Klaus and Caroline are Not Murder-y. W i l d as shit I know, I’m entirely sure you’re disappointed in me. BUT! it’s like this very very very Niche trope that I will actually K I L L for.

I have an unhealthy like truly unhealthy obsession with football players [not the bs American kind, get the game’s name out of your damn mouth] but Actual football, like I cannot explain it, I was actually texting Kelly a while ago about how Football players are just a separate brand of HOTNESS, And we’ve both come to the conclusion that like it’s definitely some primal response that makes them so attractive to me, and like evolution of all things is the only thing that can explain why I go feral for them lmfao, and also Ted Lasso [a show entirely about a football club] is my favourite fucking show atm so all of that combined, I would literally die and kill for a Football AU with Klaus as a big mean arrogant and  temperamental football captain playing for one of the giants in the premier league and then Caroline comes along and he like trips down the metaphorical stairs of life and falls face first for her when Caroline is like being her usual snarky mostly tactless borderline bitchy sunshine self, basically Caroline is mean to him and Klaus melts. She does not hold back on letting him know what an absolute jerk he is and Klaus is like “well problem is sweetheart, I want to be your jerk” lmao. Like I imagine Enzo is part of the team and is the biggest lil shit and Caroline and Enzo hit it off as besties and Klaus is just F u m i n g in the sidelines and is like constantly growling beneath his breath about how men who are, biologically speaking, more closely related to the domestic canine species than most people should not have the right to breathe in the same air as His Angelic Caroline. 

OH and Caroline is the team’s  sweetheart and hypewomen, I’m thinking she does PR for them, but basically she’s loved by all [as is law] and Klaus really reallly grapples with his cavemen tendencies to just throw her over his shoulder and go around growling Mine. 

aaaaaaand at one point, in the future, Klaus wants his last name in the jersey changed to FORBES lmao if you know what I mean.

So basically yeah this is the only AH/AU I will write myself where Klaus can’t like Kill and have tea parties with the dead bodies, and it is a Sacrifice I am willing to make only for this one AU because the sizzling Hotness of a Football Player™ is just goddamn irresistible GAH.

Like I’ll be honest, excluding the above AU, I think the best I could do AH/AU wise where Klaus can’t be murder-y will still be a Crime AU, like he’ll have to At Least be a Pretentious Brilliant Thief or Conman or some sort of criminal who maybe doesnt kill but like he HAS to be a Bad Guy™, I mean I can’t possibly imagine myself writing an AU where he isnt criminally fucking shit up as is his calling on Earth.

THAT BEING SAID I LOVE READING HUMAN AU’S WHERE HE’S LIKE NORMAL AND NOT MURDER-Y AND AM GRANDLY ENETRATINED BY THEM, IT’S JUST THAT I  DONT HAVE THE TALENT TO WRITE THEM MYSELF AND ALSO MAKE EM INTERESTING BECAUSE MY INTERESTS AND TALENTS LIE IN MAKING HIM AS LOVABLY DEPLORABLE AS POSSIBLE.

And now as for meek Caroline.  putting this under a cut cuz this shit gets violent.

You’re such a Bitch.

OHMYGOD do you *want* me to go off? do you want me to sit here and yell about all the different torture techniques I will sit through before writing three words that may or may not compound to portray Caroline as this Person who is like Pure [gag] sweet [gag] Do No Bad [gag] and will take all the categorically terrible shit thrown her way cuz that is Grace™, because Lemme tell you I’d rather fling myself into the sun or choke on petroleum before doing that. 

ALSO BEFORE EMBARKING ON THIS RANT I WOULD JUST LIKE TO SAY THESE ARE JUST *MY* OPINIONS THESE ARE BY NO MEANS THE TRUTH OR THE ONLY VALID SET OF OPINIONS; I DONT CLAIM THEM TO BE SO, SO PLEASE DONT ASSUME THIS IS AN ATTACK ON ANYONE WHO HAS A DIFFERENT SET OF OPINIONS WHICH WILL ALWAYS BE JUST AS VALID AS MINE.

Now with that out of they way:

If you write Caroline in a naturally violent/ high stakes/ Dangerous AU where Caroline herself is understandably allowed to be violent, and her immediate response to being wronged isnt Fire and Fury and Vengeance in a stunningly calculated and shrewd fashion, honey sorry to say you’re doing it wrong. Like if Caroline is wronged by Anyone, she will pay them back in kind and she will Not be holding back her punches. 

Caroline takes no shit, from anyone but like least of all from Klaus, and if he fucks up even just once (1) there is no going back Until Caroline has exhausted every last drop of Anger in her. 

Like I simply don’t get how a Caroline who is meek and forgiving and accepting of other people’s wrongs against her can exist? LIKE SHE’S A WHOLEASS BITCH IF YOU HAVENT NOTICED AND SHE’S GONNA TURN AROUND AND FUCK SHIT UP FOR YOU. I cannot understand how Caroline can be written as someone who just conveniently rolls over and takes shit? I mean omg any response to being severely wronged that isnt an immediate thirst for blood, or at the very least, ANGER within Caroline is, as viewed by me, pathetic. Like I’ve read soo many fics [was even forced to read one against my will so my saltiness to an extent, regarding this subject, is valid] where Caroline is supposedly this pure Good Girl™ person who can do no wrong and take no revenge, because vengeance and anger is not only beneath her but reacting violently [aka appropriately] to her being Grossly Wronged would somehow taint the ✨light✨ in her, and now folks We Do Not Want That, because HOW IMPORTANT IS A WOMEN’S LIGHT!!! You gotta be pure Saintly white in all your doings to be able to shine like an LED bulb!!! which btw is a super valid goal you can have!!! Because somehow when Rihanna said “Shine Bright like a Diamond” in the fine print under the Terms and Conditions section it was Clearly stated: Only applicable if a terribly wronged women denounces murder, revenge, vengeance, anger, blood thirst and everything else fun and happy that makes life worth living in the name of Retaining her ~~purity~~ 

 LIKE HONEY STFU AND LET SOME HEADS ROLL. 

Like a Meek Caroline can be written a hundred different ways and all those hundred different ways infuriate me like hell but there are two instances that make me violently froth at the mouth:

One is when people are out here writing Caroline being wronged so G R A V E L Y by Klaus and her response to this is somehow: He’s a Dark Man, I’ve known this All along especially before letting him make Me the final resting place for his dick! so honestly speaking W h o ‘s fault is it?? like omg I wanna bite and chew paper when I see bs like this.

And the other is when it isnt Klaus wronging her and someone else being a bitch I’ve seen ff’s do something Even Worse and get Caroline to outsource the revenge taking part of business to Klaus LIKE TF DOES KLAUS LOOK LIKE, an Indian?? [listen I’m allowed these racist jokes bc I’m Indian] Like BABE NO put that knife back in Caroline’s hands let her stab who ever she wants herself! 

And also the idea of Caroline being generally meek, regardless of being wronged, is like huh??? to me, no like seriously did we watch the same show??? this girl literally Bullies Klaus and Klaus melts for her, that is like their whole dynamic, she’s mean as shit to the BIG BAD VIOLENT ALMOST GODLY POWERFUL WOLF and he’s like That One....that’s the Woman I want to spend the rest of eternity with. There isnt even One (1) Canon scene where Caroline lets Klaus get away with his BS, each time every time she holds him accountable and let’s him know what a bitch he is, AND KLAUS LOVES THAT [well not exactly but that’s one of the things that makes Caroline so irresistible to him], So honestly w h o are you doing favours by writing Caroline as someone who just looks at Klaus being a Giant Jerk and goes, it’s ok baby I understand :))))))

But also Caroline in general is a sassy bitch through out the show, like forget Klaus, just by herself she’s mean and catty much like Rebekah or Katherine, Sure she is an adorable sunshine baby who is kind and loving to the people she cares about, is loyal with the strength of the Himalayas and takes it upon herself to pour her love without any restraint over anyone she decides to commit to either platonically or romantically, but like this why we have multifaceted female characters who are bitches while being good lovable people too man. Like honestly fics where Klaus falls for Caroline bc she’s characterized as pure and good and kind or whatever 2-D bullshit makes no sense to me. 

ok so I’ve rambled on a lot but tldr: IF CAROLINE AINT OUT HERE GRABBING MEN BY THE BALLS AND TWISTING THEM LIKE DOORKNOBS FOR BEING JERKS as brought to you by Wherewith to Sate It’s Malice by Jenn RIGHT FROM THE GET-GO [Like I remember Caroline doing that to Klaus during their meet cute lmao because he barged in to her place and was being his usual arrogant dick self] THEN I DON’T WANT IT. 

lmao But also if making Caroline forgiving and small is your thing, you do you babe, just make sure to tag it as Caroline is Everyone’s Lil Bitch on ao3 so I can stay tf away from it.

but ok ok all jokes aside, please if I offended anyone with this post and if some author reads this and thinks it’s directed at them please know it isnt, [it most definitely isnt like I assure you] it’s just me airing my opinions that are as valid as ones that are directly opposite to mine, regarding the subject, and I mean no harm by this post. so please dont be mad lmao.

[ficsinhistory]

So, we have a promo, huh? #2

The third season is coming up and we have a promo, this one:

So I'll do what I do best, analysis! We have some important points that are:

The clip begins with the image of Baymax and cuts to the gang flying around the city, where we see the scene of a promotional image:

I thought this could be the art museum, but it turns out it's not. I don't think it's the bank, SFAI, either. Maybe it's Fred's mansion. My guess is that this scene is not an action scene in itself, but that maybe you're preparing for a battle they don't have. After all I think things calmed down quite a bit after the second season.

We then go on to Fred talking that to a very important thing, which I believe to be from the episode “Mayor For a Day". And we have Baymax and Mini-max in a ep I think is “Trading Chips”. And it's when we go through a series of very interesting scenes like Hiro, Fred and Baymax fighting and others that I'll talk about separately that I think happens in the same episode, more specifically these:

Oh, boi! That's very, very, very interesting. Here we clearly have the Mad Jacks!

 Which I admit, I missed. And with that, we have an important detail: the Mad Jacks are hired mercenaries. And I don't think they would go after the gang for pure revenge, after all the fight they had wasn't personal, they were just following orders for Obake. Which makes me believe someone sent them to this time go after Big Hero 6. And since they had history, they more than agreed. The point is, maybe the person in charge is the real villain of the season. Which implies that this person has a lot of information about the team.

In addition,:

MOMAKASE IS BACK!

I love Momakase and all the vibe she brings. She is struggling with Wasabi which can mean an episode of focus, more than deserved, for him. I want to know how Momakase is going to see the team now, as she has shown a certain attachment to Hiro in "Hiro The Villain" and I dare say that maybe she has a way of redemption for her.

Already while to this…

I have so many questions. I'm low - key scared and, call me crazy if you want, but or Mini Max is in love with this robot or he is fighinting like in “Fear not”.This scene with him dancing with the Rose in his mouth reminds me in the episode of “Fear not " where he's dancing tango, and it's happening here too. If this animatronic is from the NBB family, it could be from the episode "Mini Noodle Burguer Max", but also can be in the frist one when the gang goes to the new pizzeria... this season will be wild.

Now these scenes, which are obviously from the first ep of the season reveals interesting things:

Here we have the scene of the ferris wheel, where everyone is together but not united. As the episode's synopsis spoke, here it says the team is "short-handed" and maybe that's why. After graduation, maybe they have kinda distant a bit and Fred (the only one excited about the ferris wheel) want everyone back as they were before.

In these other two scenes, maybe we have the progression of the climax: the ferris wheel breaks and maybe it only has Baymax and Hiro in place, then  the team arrives and this final hug is that time when everyone resolves.

Anyway, that was my Meta Analysis. You can leave your opinions if you want. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk ᕕ (ᐛ) ᕗ

[where-the-ligtning-strikes]

Okokok I only have, like, 3 followers (thxs ya’lls! Love ya) but my family is done with my star trek bullshit and I have shit to DISH OUT, especially with the alternative movie series. I get that it still made some people happy and it introduced a lot more people into star trek and I Respect that but GOD. What The Fuck. What the fuck? 

For example, movie 1 AOS, (spoilers, I guess) I really, REALLY fuck’en hated about how Kirk, motherfucken, CHEATS on the test and Spock is the one who looks like the one wrong in this??? Like I know Kirk’s whole reason was about how immoral it was to send a Bunch Of People on the command track with the training and expectation to Die if shit gets too tough but it was just how it was done in the movie that really Jars my Pickles. Because he betrays a fellow officers trust, cheats from the get-go as soon as he finds out its rigged and then the writers were like “BTW, kirk was totally right about cheating lol.” NO. Did you know what I saw kirk as? I saw him as a spoiled asshole who couldn't lose. And thats not the kirk I’m supposed to see! Thats not the kirk I want to see. It could’ve been handled so much better.

Like, alright. Lets say that I’m a Star Trek writer for these new movies (sweet). The writing team and I want these things to happen;

1) Kirk takes the test.

2) Kirk loses

3) Kirk cheats.

4) Kirk was completely right to cheat.

Ok. Cool. So instead, this is what happens. Kirk studies and he studies hard, he does everything right. And He Loses. Again. And again. He’s done different things in different ways and the crew, even if only artificially, die. In the last (2nd to last really) try, he kinda just trying to do whatever, and then one of the people in charge come to him like, “hey you finally passed.” And kirk, rightfully, is very confused because the end result is the same to Every Other Damn Time He Took The Test. And the guy giving him the results just kinda laughs and goes “Oh no honey, its rigged to lose.”

And Kirk goes, “Hey. What the fuck.”

But then!!! Then kirk goes to the people in charge of the test, he goes to them and tells them, “Hey what the fuck. this shits messed up.”

And the people in charge of test goes “yeah, but its the Council‘s choice, some of us think the test is valid for X and Y bullshit reasons, also fuck you.”

Kirk basically goes. “Wow. Alright.” And after such goes to the council and is like, “Hey. Uh. This test sucks ass because telling people to expect to die rather than, you know, doing shit is really, extremely, fucked up.”

And the council goes “Didnt you pass? We’re dicks, fuck you.”

And kirk, well. Kirk aint going without a fight! No sir-ee. Nope. The issue isn't getting enough attention, no one is taking Kirk seriously or giving him the time of day. Except for Bones, whos reluctantly but an absolute bro, BUT kirk remembers a bunch of stuff about the office/lab whatever of the pepes who made the test and kirk decides that hey, if no one is gonna give him the time of day then he’s gotta force their hand by cheating because with cheating theirs a court and with a court there's Media and they cant just kick him out because they have to decide and agree if Kirk Actually Cheated and if or if not he gets to stay at the academy. If kirk wins, they’ll have to change the test. If not... well, he leaves in disgrace. And he’s, obviously, taking a huge risk because he doesn't want to get kick out and the last thing he wants to do is to stick out like this but he really does believe that there is no such thing as a no-win situation, he really believes in this, and he’s going to fight for it. 

And so, he tries one more time and he cheats. he makes it to where no matter what, he wins and he WANTS everyone to know that he cheated. So he doesn't try to make it subtle or make it look like there was a bug that just Happened to Let Him Win. No, its obvious and as clear as day that James T. Kirk cheated. Everyone knows, their grandma knows, and Spock knows. Spock charges him on such and the movie proceeds.

2nd movie! Star Trek Into Darkness! What gets under my skin is that Kirk! Lies! And he’s all, “ Dur Dur Spock you betrayed me for telling the admirals the truth in the report.” Even though??? Spock and kirk never discussed it? To lie??? He wants Spock and his CREW to put their careers ON THE LINE??? Also just to lie is, extremely, fucked up that does not vibe with me and it does NOT have me like kirk. And I want to like kirk! So, once again. I’m a writer for Star Trek Into Darkness, me and the writing team want these things to happen;

1) Kirk saves Spock from a volcano.

2) Kirk breaks the prime directive to do it.

3) Spock ‘betrays’ kirk and 

4) Kirk is justified in feeling betrayed.

5) Fuck it, for shits and giggles, lets say that kirk also still has to lie and gets demoted

So, the mission to stop the super volcano is going well, everything goes right and they should be done soon. Sweet. But wait, what the fuck. Spock’s equipment bugs the fuck out and Spock, is still, in a fucking super volcano.

What the fuck.

So, kirk is doing mental gymnastics in his head trying to see if theirs a way to save Spock without getting seen by the natives. And finds that, there isn't. It’s violating the prime directive, or losing Spock, which, its not even a competition. So kirk goes to the crew and is like “Hey. I’ll take the blame, but we’re going to have to violate the prime directive cuz we’re already low on officers thanks to that huge attack Nero did and at some point we’re going to lose everyone if we keep leaving people behind and Spock is an extremely talented officer that we can’t afford to lose. He’s also my friend And I love him.”

He’s the captain and people are more likely to listen this time cuz he saved the world, so the crew goes. “Ok so Spock is the bitch who’s a terrible loser, strict as fuck and wouldent know ‘fun’ if it ran up to him naked and slaped his ass, but he’s our bitch so we’re in.”

And kirk goes, “Sweet.” 

They save him, but Spock gets into a Huge disagreement Publicly On The Bridge as soon as he’s back cuz he went through the mental gymnastics too and knows that theirs no way he could’ve been saved without Jim violating the Prime directive and, for a legitimate reason that would be Bad because lets say that the Klingons and the Federation are in a Cold War like state and one of the agreements they had so that 2 halves of the known universe wouldent blow out each others brains was that Nobody could find new planets and manipulate them to fight for “their side”. Not only would this risk a galactic war with a race itching for an excuse to fight and come out on top with an already weakened Federation, even if Jim didnt leave or actually do anything other than accidently show his ship to the natives. 

And thats completely excluding the fact Jim can lose his captaincy and spock could be separated and lose jim. So Spock Loses His Shit (In his Vulcan way, naturally) And Jim is hurt and betrayed by this because he just risked everything and thats ok but Spock all but verbally slaps him in the face with consequences he’s already well aware of and does so Publicly in FRONT OF THE CREW. And a captain and a 2nd in command is supposed to Agree on stuff, 2nd in command can make all the corrections and adjustments needed but its a thing in Star Fleet where 2nd in command is supposed to ultimately have the captains back even if the captain in question is Wrong. 

Everyone is upset and everything is dicey at best.

Kirk and Spock dont write a report yet, they call the admiralty and tell them what happen. No lies, completely truth. The admiralty basically say all the stuff Spock says and they can’t afford to give the Klingons an inch and Kirk didnt… actually violate the prime directive, not the spirit of it. He didnt introduce himself to the tribes as a Star Fleet officer, he didnt accidently nor purposely leave any futuristic tools or weapons to be found. He didnt try to influence the culture, at all. The only thing that happened was that the tribe accidently saw the ship saving Spock. 

So, grimly, the admirals have it where Kirk and the crew lie in the reports. The mission succeed. Completely. The Klingon ambassadors, nor anyone else not even by word of mouth can ever find out about this and because its not recorded or on paper in any way it and it Did Not Happen. There's a lot of political tension at the moment and this was a huge stunt that Kirk pulled and he took the blame like he said, so he’s demoted on the spot, and his last moments as captain was Spock, publicly, ripping him a new one. The rest of the movie happens. 

I’m just-  this is just 2 things. Legit, it doesn't even change the movie but I’d feel so much better about kirk if it went like this or something like this and IM SO BITTER These movies could've been SO GOOD and had so much potential and so much Good Shit and they Ruined it! I couldn't even bring myself to watch the 3rd one. Anyway, Thanks for coming to my ted talk

[citrinekay]

hi! i've got kind of a prompt: bill and holden have been seeing each other for a while and they're doing a decent job at hiding it, but then one day one of them slips and says something that to anyone listen might seem like harmless banter, but wendy notices something else is going on and finally confronts them

This was actually really fun to write! Thanks for the prompt 💕

Holden tilts his face toward the gust of warm, summer air through the half-open window as the dull, gray edges of the Quantico building emerge from the treeline up ahead and the extended Memorial Day weekend fades into the past. He closes his eyes to cling to the relaxed state of mind he had sunken into over the three-day break for a few more seconds before they’re thrust back into work. 

“Ugh, I can feel the stack of requests growing from here. Why can’t we have one more day off?” He complains. 

Bill’s hand squeezes around Holden’s where they’re attached on the seat between them. 

“That’s life. All good things must come to an end.”

Holden frowns, and casts him a coyly petulant gaze. “You sound like my mom.”

Bill chuckles, and guides Holden’s hand up from the seat leather to press a quick kiss to his knuckles. “Well, not everything.”

Holden bites back a smile, feeling himself blush. 

When they pull into the Quantico parking lot, Holden takes off his seatbelt. 

“I’ll go in first.” He says.

“Okay.” Bill says, pulling his cigarettes out of his pocket. 

Holden interjects his hand before Bill can put the cigarette in his mouth. “Kiss first.”

Bill’s mouth tugs with a slow smile, and he leans over to capture Holden’s mouth in a firm, simmering kiss that lasts much longer than is probably safe. Holden leans into it, breathless and willing, before grudgingly pulling back with a sigh. He quickly glances around the parking lot, but there’s no one within their vicinity to witness the exchange. 

“Fuck.” He mutters, exhaling a slow breath past pursed lips. 

“What?” Bill murmurs, though his eyes are glinting with mischief. 

“You know what.” Holden says, “I’m really going now.”

“I’m five minutes behind you.”

“Okay, see you in there.” 

Holden climbs out of the car, and scans the parking lot again before heading for the BSU entrance. The mild breeze cools the flush on his cheeks, and by the time he makes the long walk and the elevator ride down to the basement, he’s managed to rearrange his expression into one of nonchalance. 

When he arrives at his desk, the case files that he’d been complaining about are stacked about a foot high in his incoming tray. The outgoing tray is significantly smaller, a daunting discrepancy that speaks to how the rest of the week is going to go. 

Bill comes in five minutes later just like he’d said and walks behind Holden’s desk to get to the coffee stand in the corner. His hand discreetly grazes the width of Holden’s shoulders, sending a delicious buzz through his veins that makes his knees go weak. Holden shoots a stern glance over his shoulder, grateful that he’s seated. Bill’s mouth purses against a devious smile as he pours himself a cup of coffee, and heads into his office. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Holden turns to the incoming requests. It takes him close to an hour to get his thoughts in order and focused on the task at hand while his mind and leaping heart keep wanting to sift back through the warm, sunlit memories of the long weekend. 

Six months. He reminds himself. It’s only been six months. 

He knows he shouldn’t be entirely getting his hopes up about the longevity of this relationship, especially when their close working relationship could be irreparably damaged in the fallout should things go wrong. They should be taking it slow. Neither of them have dated another man before, or even attempted to hide a relationship from nearly everyone in their life. They’ve been doing a pretty good job of concealing it in Holden’s opinion, but the task is growing more difficult with every day that passes. It’s nearly impossible to focus on work when the object of your affection is just across the office, a perilous distraction of longing gazes, secretive smiles, and whispered exchanges when no one is looking. 

Two hours later, Holden has the mountain of requests separated out into three categories: urgent, escalating, and minor. He carries the stack of urgents into Bill’s office. 

“I’m done sorting.” He says, entering without knocking. 

“Okay, let’s take a look.” Bill says, waving him closer. 

Circling the desk, Holden sets the stack in front of Bill, and perches on the edge of the desk. 

“I’ve identified the most urgent, and we have two cases here that I think require on-the-ground assistance.” Holden says, taking the two folders off the top. “You and I can take one, and Gregg and Jim can take the other one.”

“Sounds good.” Bill says, taking a drag of his cigarette and perusing Holden’s position on his desk with a contained smile. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. You just look good up there.”

Holden glances away, blushing again. He can’t help it. Bill’s appreciative gaze triggers instant heat, a warm flood that journeys from his belly and outward. 

“Where are the cases?” Bill asks, clearing his throat. 

“We’ve got on in Michigan and another in Florida.” Holden says, “Miami, actually.”

“Mm, Florida golf course.”

“Florida hotel room.” Holden adds, flipping open the Miami folder with a disinterested gaze. “Ocean views.”

Bill’s mouth seeps with smoke. “You got something again Michigan?”

“The beaches aren’t as great.”

“We’re supposed to be there working.” 

“Says you, talking about golf courses.”

Bill takes his reading glasses off, and sizes Holden up with a penetrating gaze. “Who says we’re going to have time to visit the ocean?”

“I don’t know. Once the case is over? We could take a few extra days. We deserve a vacation every once in awhile, don’t we?”

“In Miami?”

“Sure. Why not? Some place you’d rather be?”

“Not necessarily.” Bill says, leaning forward to tap ashes into the tray. He lowers his voice, “I don’t care where it is as long as the bed is comfortable.”

Holden shifts on the edge of the desk, feeling his veins going warm and tingly. Their gazes hold, both of them knowing they shouldn’t be talking like this at work yet unable to quell the teasing affection. 

“So, you don’t care?” Holden whispers, his voice slightly trembling. “Miami or Michigan?”

Before Bill can answer, a sharp knock on the door jolts them both out of the suggestive layers of conversation. Holden glances over his shoulder to see Wendy leaning in the doorway, and quickly hops off the edge of the desk. 

“Sorry. Was I interrupting something?” Wendy asks, her eyebrow arching. 

“No, of course not.” Holden says, feeling his face grow hot again. “We were, um … we were just discussing the urgent cases.”

“Care to share it with the rest of the team?”

“Yes. Let’s get everyone in the conference room.” Holden says. 

Wendy gazes suspiciously at them for a long moment before leaning away from the door frame. “All right. I’ll get everyone together.”

“Thanks, Wendy.” Bill says. 

When she walks away, Bill shoots him a glare. 

“What? You were the one facing the door.” Holden says, gesturing vehemently. “How long was she standing there for?”

“I don’t know. You were the one sitting on my desk.” 

“Let’s just go.” Holden says, shaking his head. 

In the conference room, their other co-workers provide a conversational buffer, but Holden can feel Wendy assessing them critically from across the table. He feels sick. 

Wendy is smart, intuitive; if anyone was going to figure out what’s going on between him and Bill based on behavioral clues alone, it would be her; but she’s also the last person he would want to expose himself to, aside from perhaps Ted or someone in upper management, because she’s the most honest and exacting. He values her opinions and respect, and he has no doubt that she would highly disapprove of an office romance. 

The next day, Holden expresses his worries to Bill over lunch in the cafeteria. 

“What if she knows?”

“Look, Holden. I’ve known Wendy a long time. She isn’t going to say anything.” Bill says, “She’s not a tattler.”

“Doesn’t it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yeah, but it’s nothing she can prove.”

The conversation does little to ease Holden’s nerves, and ends up being entirely insignificant. Two days later, everyone is packing up to leave for the day when Wendy sticks her head out of her office, and asks for Bill and Holden to come in for a moment. 

They exchange anxious glances before Bill rearranges his face into superb composure, and nods for Holden to follow him. The last intern exits out the exterior door just as they slip into the office. 

“Shut the door.” Wendy says, though no one is around to hear them.

Bill eases the door shut. “What’s this about?”

Wendy sets aside the transcript and notebook in front of her, and turns to face them both directly. 

“We’ve all worked together for quite some time now.” She says, her tone calm and steady. “I’d like to think that means we all trust and respect one another to some degree.”

“Of course.” Holden says. 

“Wonderful. Then, I’ll just ask this question directly, and expect an honest answer.” She says, spreading her hands benevolently. 

Bill and Holden trade nervous glances. Bill’s jaw clenches and his hands clasp tightly behind his back as he turns his gaze back to Wendy. 

“Okay. Ask away.”

Wendy leans forward to lace her hands in front of her, and gathers a deep breath. When her gaze rises back up to shift back and forth between them, her expression lacks any type of nonchalance or levity. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” She asks. 

Holden feels his stomach drop. Despite his years in hostage negotiation and behavioral science, he can’t conjure a quickly manufactured expression of calm or a believable lie. He’s sure he’s already given away the answer by looking away from her decisive gaze, fidgeting with his hands, and turning red. 

“Going on?” Bill echoes, managing an attempt at evasion. 

“Yes.” Wendy says, coolly. “Romantically. Sexually.”

Holden almost chokes. “Wendy, this is …”

“Inappropriate?” She finishes, her eyebrow raising. “More inappropriate than the two of you spending more time staring at each other and talking than actually working for the past few months?”

“Jesus, Wendy.” Bill curses, quietly. 

“That wasn’t exactly an answer.”

“We’ve all been working hard.” Bill says, “We’re busier than we’ve ever been. I find it a little insulting for you to imply that we’re not pulling our weight just because we’re …”

Holden lifts his gaze from the carpet to stare at Bill agape. It isn’t an affirmative, but it’s close enough. He hadn’t expected Bill to give up the truth so easily. 

“So, there is something going on.” Wendy concludes. 

Bill sighs, and rubs a hand over his forehead. “Yes. Happy? Is this interrogation over?”

“Not quite.”

“C’mon, Wendy. Our personal life isn’t really any of your business.” 

“It is my business if it affects my job - all of our jobs.” Wendy says, her tone softening. “I’m not angry.”

“Well, thank God for that.” Bill says, putting up his hands. “That’s the all-clear I was searching for.”

“Okay.” Wendy says, her eyes narrowing. “Before you start getting defensive, I’d just like to say, I care about both of you very much.”

Silence settles. Holden can see Bill’s prickling posture relax a bit, and feels his own stomach ease its churning. 

“In fact, I want you to be happy.” Wendy continues, “If that means with each other, fine. I’m simply concerned.”

“Concerned?”

“You know my stance on sexuality. I don’t discriminate, but other people do. A lot of people here at the FBI do, in fact. I don’t think I need to tell either of you what would happen if someone other than me found out what was going on.”

“We don’t need to be lectured.” Bill says, “We both know what the stakes are.”

“Then, consider being more careful? More discreet, perhaps?”

“Discreet?” Holden says, “I thought we were being …”

Wendy casts him a dubious gaze, and his throat knots.

“Careful.” He finishes, weakly. 

Wendy chuckles softly, her rigid facade cracking to expose amusement. 

“What?” Bill demands. 

“I suggest you try harder.” She says, rising from her desk and gathering her things. “If I had to guess based solely on your behavior, I’d say this has been going on for five, six months?”

“Six.” Holden whispers. 

“Hm.” She murmurs, her mouth tipping. She swings her gaze over to Bill. “And you, Bill - I expected more from you.”

“Me?” 

“Come on, you made it easy for me. Obvious, actually.” She says, patting him on the shoulder as she walks past him toward the door. 

Bill sputters for a moment before pressing his mouth shut. His brow pinches with an irritated frown. 

Wendy pauses with her hand on the door knob. 

“Truly,” She says, casting a fond glance over her shoulder at both of them. “I’m happy for you. Just, please, be more careful.”

Before either of them can conjure a response, she slips out of the office, and lets the door swing shut behind her. 

Bill shifts his gaze to stare at Holden disbelief. 

“Did that just happen?” Holden whispers. 

“Yeah, I think it did.”

They stare quietly at one another for a long moment until Bill starts to chuckle. 

“What?” Holden demands. “You find this funny?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“You’re unbelievable. What if she had been angry?”

“I told you she wasn’t going to tell anyone.” Bill says, reaching over to catch Holden by the wrist and reel him in. “You know what this means though?”

“What?” Holden asks, scowling as he braces his hands against Bill’s chest. 

“No more coming into my office and climbing up on my desk.” Bill murmurs, leaning in to kiss him slowly on the mouth. 

“Hey,” Holden protests, tipping his mouth away from the tender gesture. “No more of that either.” 

“Nobody’s here.” Bill says, snaring Holden’s lower lip in a kiss. 

Holden resists for a moment before melting into the kiss. Their lips stroke both and forth for a long moment, and he’s rendered dizzy again. They break apart with a muted gasp from the back of his throat, his lips prickling with friction. 

“Come on.” Bill murmurs. “Let’s go home.”

[iol247]

Flashback: Unabomber Publishes His ‘Manifesto’

Ted Kaczynski was a madman who killed and maimed innocent people – but did some of his worries for the future come true?

By 2017 standards, a bearded man ranting in his manifesto about how “one of the most widespread manifestations of the craziness of our world is leftism” might, at best, have a chance ending up name-checked by Alex Jones. Most likely, he’d become the hero of a thousand faceless message board posters. His 35,000-word diatribe against technology titled “Industrial Society and Its Future” might be suitable for a personal blog, but a national newspaper? Surely not.

Of course, more than 20 years ago, when Ted Kaczynski mailed out what would come to be known as the “Unabomber Manifesto,” it was huge news. After over a decade spent living as a recluse without electricity or running water in a cabin in Montana – sending mail bombs to university academics and corporate airline executives – Kaczynski sent letters to the New York Times and the Washington Post demanding they publish his manifesto and agree to print an annual follow-up for three years. If they did, the bombings would cease. If not, the Unabomber hinted at more bombings to come. 

It had started in May of 1978, when a package exploded and injured a Northwestern University security officer. A year later, another bomb was sent to the same college, injuring a graduate student. Also in 1979, Kaczynski snuck a bomb into the cargo hold of an American Airlines flight. It went off mid-flight, causing an emergency landing and afflicting 12 passengers with smoke inhalation. In 1985, he switched things up, and sent a shrapnel-loaded bomb to a computer store in Sacramento, California, claiming the owner as his first victim. By the mid-1980s, the Unabomber had become a real-life American boogeyman. A killer who would strike without warning, and without much reason. Why was he doing what he did – and when would he do it again?

The publication of the manifesto would end up being his undoing. Members of Kaczynski’s family had a slight suspicion Ted could be the person behind the terror campaign. His brother David was one of the thousands of people who called the FBI tip-line after the manifesto was published and a million-dollar reward was offered for information leading to the capture of the Unabomber. After a long search, FBI agents arrested an unkempt Kaczynski in his Lincoln, Montana cabin on April 3rd, 1996. They found bomb making components, over 40,000 journal pages and the manifesto’s original typed manuscript.

There’s no defending the actions of a person who mails bombs with the intent to do serious harm. But Andrew Sodroski, executive producer of the new Discovery mini-series, Manhunt: Unabomber, thinks there is plenty to take away from Kaczynski’s words. As he said in a phone conference with reporters leading up to the show, “What the manifesto has to say about our relationship with technology and with society is more true right now than it was when Ted published it.”

Not many domestic terrorists convicted of murder get called prophetic by television producers – and there are scholars from different sides of the political spectrum who agree that the the Unabomber’s anti-technology stance was ahead of its time. “His work, despite his deeds,” wrote Dr. Keith Ablow, a psychiatrist and member of the Fox News Medical A-Team, “deserves a place alongside Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley, and 1984, by George Orwell.” Ray Kurzweil, noted author, computer scientist and futurist, quoted a passage from the manifesto in his 1999 book, The Age of Spiritual Machines. Some believe he’s a murderous modern-day Henry David Thoreau, while others say he’s a genius and a prophet. So what, exactly did he get right?

Kaczynski opens his manifesto with, “The Industrial Revolution and its consequences have been a disaster for the human race.” The technology he goes on to rail against, keep in mind, was mid-1990s – before smartphones, before Twitter, before “Likes” on Facebook and algorithms helped pick out things for you to buy and experience. Although the word “dystopia” never shows up throughout the essay, Kaczynski believed (and you have to assume still does so from his prison cell) that the future wasn’t some Philip K. Dick or Handmaid’s Tale scenario; the dystopian future started happening a long time ago. Computer networks, the mass-communication media, the modern health care system, pesticides and chemicals, all products of the Industrial Revolution, are destroying the planet, he writes. As one portion of the manifesto is sub-titled, “The ‘Bad’ Parts of Technology Cannot be Separated From the ‘Good’ Parts.” 

In point number 49 the manifesto, Kaczynski writes, “In the modern world it is human society that dominates nature rather than the other way around, and modern society changes very rapidly owing to technological change.” One of the big problems, he believed while writing his manifesto, was the inevitable growth of artificial intelligence and how humanity will cope with it. “First let us postulate that the computer scientists succeed in developing intelligent machines that can do all things better than human beings can do them.” As one Wired article explained in 2015, “A manufacturing device from Universal Robots doesn’t just solder, paint, screw, glue, and grasp – it builds new parts for itself on the fly when they wear out or bust.” From checking you out at the grocery store to flipping burgers, robots are being designed to integrate into the labor force and cut costs.

He goes on to write in point number 172, “In that case presumably all work will be done by vast, highly organized systems of machines and no human effort will be necessary. Either of two cases might occur. The machines might be permitted to make all of their own decisions without human oversight, or else human control over the machines might be retained.” When Kaczynski’s thoughts were published, we were still dealing with the Terminator version of the robots overtaking humanity and destroying it – it was a nightmare scenario, fiction. But Kaczynski wasn’t writing speculative fiction; he was stating, from an academically-trained point of view, where he saw technology headed.

Technology overtaking humanity was only one of the scary possibilities. The rise of the “one percent” super rich and corporations controlling everything, was another. “Human freedom mostly will have vanished, because individuals and small groups will be impotent vis-a-vis large organizations armed with supertechnology and an arsenal of advanced psychological and biological tools for manipulating human beings, besides instruments of surveillance and physical coercion,” he wrote. 

Tech companies have untold amounts of data on every person that logs online for everything from shopping for cat litter to ranting on Twitter. How to understand that data – and what to use it for – is an industry in itself. Could it be used to manipulate us? See the 2016 U.S. election and the rise of fake news spread through Facebook. “Hyperpartisan Facebook Pages Are Publishing False And Misleading Information At An Alarming Rate,” as one 2016 BuzzFeed article put it, showed up in feeds even if the people didn’t follow those groups. Some of the false news was spread the old-fashioned way, through word of mouth; but, as John Herman of the New York Times explained, misinformation on the social media service thrives or dies, “at least in part, on Facebook’s algorithm.” As Kaczynski believes, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. All of this seemed farfetched when Kaczynski’s words were put in front of a mass audience. In 1994, audiences were being told suave cyberterrorists like the ones in the movie The Net were the ones looking to steal your information online and do whatever they please with it.

After all this, however, calling Kaczynski a prophet might be a stretch. He’s a highly intelligent person who wanted to try and stop where he saw humanity headed by any means necessary – including murdering people. Yet he routinely points out throughout his manifesto that there very well might be no stopping the inevitable. The entire point of his manifesto, as he states, is revolution, anarchy: “Its object will be to overthrow not governments but the economic and technological basis of the present society.” Kaczynski, who has stated admiration for the eco-anarchist movement (“but I think they could do it better,” he also said in an interview in 1999), takes aim at both leftists, including “socialists, collectivists, ‘politically correct’ types, feminists, gay and disability activists, animal rights activists and the like”). He also writes, “conservatives are fools,” and that they’re, “just taking the average man for a sucker, exploiting his resentment of Big Government to promote the power of Big Business.” Kaczynski even engages in some gaslighting: “Feminists are desperately anxious to prove that women are as strong and as capable as men. Clearly they are nagged by a fear that women may NOT be as strong and as capable as men.”

All of this reiterates the point that Kaczynski is no hero whatsoever. The person who wrote “Industrial Society and Its Future,” is a fanatic. And as is sometimes the case, fanatics can take things to the tragic extreme. Yet there is something to be taken away from his words if you read closely; it’s that we give up a piece of ourselves whenever we adjust to conform to society’s standards. That, and we’re too plugged in. We’re letting technology take over our lives, willingly. It’s the sort of thing that doesn’t take a madman dressed up like a prophet to tell us; it’s all too evident. Kaczynski, to steal a phrase from the tech world, was just an early adopter of these thoughts. Yet his warning will probably forever go unnoticed because of the horrific deeds he carried out to get his message across.

https://www.rollingstone.com/culture/culture-news/flashback-unabomber-publishes-his-manifesto-125449/amp/?__twitter_impression=true