#Ted like yeah I said that… over two years ago??? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

its-time-to-write · 2 years ago

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This is NOT Jamie Tartt slander. This is two sleep-deprived people making dumb choices because they’re tired. Also, this is so. Freakin. Long. Apologies in advance. Warnings include swearing, fighting, pregnancy? Is that a warning? Basically reader is pregnant and it goes through the first pregnancy test to like when the baby is a month old. Anyway. I never know how to write these intros.

you’re losing me

You and Jamie are young. You are not old. Sure, you’re married after only dating for a year and being engaged for another half a year, but it’s not like much changed from how it was. That band on your left hands gives you both a sense of security, and it’s fun to be the hot young married couple around Richmond. It’s nice to be able to walk around openly and to be called “Mrs. Tarrt,” and to know that this himbo dumbass is going to be making you laugh till you’re old and gray. (Said himbo dumbass told you that’s his favorite nickname). You both excel in your various workplaces and because of that, when you moved into Jamie’s house you were able to keep your flat. It turned out to be a blessing when your younger sister moved to England from another country, so she can be close by without actually being in the same house as you.

All that to say, you were not ready for the little pink stick you were holding at 4pm on a Wednesday.

“Babe?” Jamie calls from the front door, “I’m home! You here?”

Your eyes are glued to those two little lines. “In the bathroom!” you shout. You hear Jamie’s footsteps coming up the stairs into your room.

“Oi listen, Ted told this joke today that went over me head, so I remembered it to ask you and…” he trails off. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

You turn to look at him, the same shock from five minutes ago still on your face. In an instant, Jamie is kneeling on the floor next to you cupping your face. “Are you alright? Do you need to go to the hospital? Do I need to call someone? Did something happen at work?”

You shake your head. “No, I’m fine, I just- look.” You halfheartedly lift the pregnancy test. Jamie looks down and his face shifts from concern to one of shock then back to concern.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly.

Wordlessly, you point to the sink where there are five pregnancy tests of different brands. All positive.

“Shit,” he whispers. Then: “Wait. Why aren’t you happy bout this? I thought you wanted kids?”

“I do!” you reply a little miserably, “I do, it’s just, we talked about it and I know you really don’t at least not till you’re in your mid-thirties, and I know I told you that I wanted to have them young that one time, but that was before we were dating and I didn’t want to pressure you and I don’t want you to think I did this on purpose because I didn’t but I’m actually really scared about what you’re going to think because I’m so excited, especially because I didn’t even think this was possible.”

You’re not looking at him anymore, but hugging your knees to your chest. You are excited for this baby. You didn’t think you were going to be able to have kids, based on personal issues and family medical history. Or at least, that it would take a lot of time and a lot of doctor’s appointments. The fact that you have a total of six positive pregnancy tests is a miracle in and of itself, but it’s not what you and Jamie planned. And sure, you’re married, but does that really mean you won’t split up? This is pretty big.

All these thoughts are swirling around in your head until-

“Hey.”

Jamie softly tilts your chin up. “Look at me.”

Against your will, tears have started to leak out of your eyes.

“Darling, I ain’t mad. I think mostly I’m just glad you ain’t dyin. This is amazing! We’re going to have a little baby Tartt, and I couldn’t be happier. As long as you’re alright, I’m happy.”

You grab his bicep. “Are you absolutely sure, Jamie?” You need to know.

He laughs. “Babe, yes. Yes I am. For better or for worse, yeah? Though this really is for better.”

You crack a smile. “Ok. Ok. Yeah, ok.”

Jamie twirls a strand of your hair. “We’ll be ok, yeah? Now let’s get off this floor and go get ice cream. Heard that’s a pregnancy staple. And, on the way, can you explain this joke Ted said? Everyone laughed except me and Will, so I was thinking it’s gotta be...” his voice trails down the hall as you head out the door.

—

Jamie is funny. Once he decides to do something, he’s all in. He wanted to start telling people the moment you stepped out the door for ice cream. You had to physically put your hand over his mouth to stop him from telling Mae, whom you bumped into on your way. To be honest, you’re sure she knows anyway because Jamie got out a few words and she gave you a knowing look, but she’ll keep it to herself. She’s a good one.

It was only a matter of time before Jamie insisted you start telling the team. He’d say, mid-breakfast, “Babe. You know who would be a great babysitter? Sam. Sam’s one of me best mates. Haven’t kept a secret from him in forever,” with a puppy dog face.

Or during MarioKart, “What do you think about having Isaac and Colin help with the baby’s room? Isaac’s good at all that construction shit and both you and Colin like to paint. You probably shouldn’t be painting anyway, what with all the fumes.”

Or your personal favorite, during a shower, “Babe. What about Roy and Keeley?”

You: “What about Roy and Keeley?”

Jamie: “They should know. We should tell them. Keeley would flip her shit and I want to see if Roy will cry.”

You: “That’s what you’re thinking about? Here? Now? Good lord, man, I thought you were debating which conditioner to use.”

To be entirely fair, it was about the time to start telling people. You had started stealing Jamie’s shirts claiming that they were more comfortable. They were baggier on you, so they hid the beginnings of your baby bump, and you explained away any questions by reminding people that you wore a lot of layers because you were perpetually cold. However, you were at the point where you were going to have to start telling people, which is how Roy and Keeley ended up at your house for your bi-weekly dinner that you had been delaying for two months.

You had taken approximately two bites of food before Jamie clattered down his fork and said, “We have something to tell you.”

Roy and Keeley looked at you expectantly. You reach under your chair for two bags and place them in front of their plates.

Roy’s face is saying what the fuck as he and Keeley remove the tissue paper and hold up two onesies. A black one that says, newest addition to uncle’s day and a light pink one that says, if you think I’m cute, you should see my aunt.

They look from the onesies in their hands and then back to you and Jamie. “Surprise!” you say in unison. There is a beat of silence and then Roy says, “That’s fucking great!” at the same time Keeley squeals, “Ohmygod, congratulations!” and then you’re all on your feet hugging.

“I fucking knew it,” says Keeley. She nudges Roy, “Didn’t I tell you Roy-o? I fucking called it weeks ago! You owe me ten quid.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roy grumbles as he reaches into his pocket, but that’s as close to a smile he’ll get. “Can’t believe you’re having a kid with this prick,” he says to you, but it’s prick (affectionate) as opposed to prick (derogatory).

You smile. “You’re the first people we’ve told, other than Jamie’s mum and Simon. You’re the closest thing we have to family here.”

Keeley goes, “Aw, babe,” and Roy just squints at you and lets out a grunt.

“She’s gonna have the coolest family,” Jamie says.

“She?” Keeley asks, “Are you having a girl?”

You roll your eyes. “We don’t know. We’re going to find out tomorrow, and Jamie has been insisting that it’s a girl. He says it’s his ‘dad sense,’ or something like that. I’ve given up telling him that’s not a real thing.”

Jamie shrugs, “I know what I know. Don’t get why we have to go to some bloke with that slimy gel to be told something I’ve been saying for weeks.”

“That bloke with slimy gel is my doctor and an ultrasound, you absolute himbo!” you laugh.

Roy finally cracks a smile, and you spend a comfortable evening together, thinking about how much things are going to change.

—

A week later, you’re at the Richmond pitch. You walked over from Mae’s, because you were thinking about her chips all afternoon. You ate at least three baskets and she made a sly comment about eating for two. She pinched your cheek as she walked away and then smacked Baz, who was trying to eavesdrop.

You walk into the locker room, coat still on and reach up to kiss Jamie. He’s still a sweaty from practice because none of them have gone to the showers yet, but you don’t mind.

“You ready?” he asks.

You give your arms a shake. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

You walk into Ted and Beard’s office, where you asked Rebecca and Higgins to meet. Trent is in there as well, and he looks up in surprise as you walk in.

“Good to see, Mrs. Tartt,” Ted says as he gets up to hug you.

“Hey Ted,” you smile back, going over to hug Rebecca. “How are you all doing?” “Oh you know, biting our nails for whatever it is you guys have to tell us,” Ted replies.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Rebecca interjects. “I simply cannot handle any more change around here.”

You shake my head. “No, no we’re not leaving. But this is about a change.”

Back in the locker room, the Richmond boys hear a big “WHAT,” from Ted and look over to see you and Jamie getting swarmed by him, Beard, Rebecca, Higgins, and Trent. Isaac looks at Sam and shrugs, bemused. You and Jamie open the door and walk out right under where the “Believe” sign used to be.

You smile and take off your coat, revealing a shirt that says “Tartt in the oven,” and an obvious baby bump.

There is silence as jaws drop and then Isaac says-

“I’m going to be an uncle?”

The locker room erupts in pandemonium with the boys slapping each other on the back firing rapid-fire questions at you and Jamie.

“How long have you been keeping this a secret?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Are you going to name it after me?”

“Can I be the favorite uncle?”

“Can we help decorate its room?”

Jamie is smiling as big as you’ve ever seen him.

“OI!” Isaac roars. “QUIET. Are we men or are we beasts? One at a time!”

Isaac looks at you two. “Boy or girl?”

Jamie’s eyes glow. “Girl!”

The room erupts once again as Jamie kisses you on the top of your head and pulls you close to him.

—

Labor was… not fun. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t great. There weren’t really complications except for the fact that Jamie was almost not there. See, it’s because your water broke when you were in the shower right before leaving to watch one of Jamie’s games. You looked down at the shower drain and felt your mind race through a million scenarios. Do you text Jamie and make him miss the game? Do you push through as long as you can? Do you have Keeley and Rebecca take you to the hospital? Do you go by yourself?

As you’re considering, you think of laying in bed the night before. The baby was kicking and Jamie was tracing patterns on your stomach whispering, “Baby Tartt doo doo doo-doo doo-doo.”

He would hate to miss this.

You make a choice and call Keeley.

Thirty minutes later you’re in Rebecca’s box waiting for the game to start. You have contractions, sure, but you’ve been having them for a while. The doctor said it was nothing to worry about, so you didn’t worry.

That means that Keeley and Rebecca don’t worry as you grip the arm of your seat and blow out a long breath.

Keeley absentmindedly pats your arm and Rebecca slings hers around your shoulders.

“Don’t go having this baby now,” she jokes, “Wait till after we’ve won.”

You force out a laugh. If only she knew.

You have to get up and walk after the first half because the contractions are starting to get closer together. Rebecca notices and gets up to come inside and see you.

“Are you alright?” she asks.

You look at her without saying anything and her eyes widen.

“Shit,” she says. “How long has this been happening?”

“Since right before I left,” you gasp out, “My water broke in the shower and I didn’t want- shit.” You bend over from a contraction before continuing, “I didn’t want to miss Jamie’s game and it’s fine, right? It’s not until they’re three minutes apart that it really matters.”

“And how long are yours?” Rebecca asks.

You don’t want to look at her. “Six,” you whisper.

“SIX?” she yells. “Darling, you need to go. I’ll call Ted, he’ll pull Jamie, and then you’ll go.”

Keeley has come in by this point and fully assessed the situation. “Babes, you can’t stick around till the game ends. You have to go.”

You hold up a hand. “I’m fine. Richmond needs Jamie. It can wait.”

Rebecca clicks her tongue. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but we’re up by two and also it’s just a football game. It doesn’t matter. You are about to have a child so let me get your husband for you.”

“Ok,” you say meekly. “Can I come with you?”

Rebecca calls Ted and you wait by the entrance to the pitch. Ted has barely put out the call to switch out number nine when Jamie is sprinting across the field to you. You’re at the hospital in record time, and that’s how Beatrice Georgie Tartt is born.

—

You and Jamie had a lot of conversations about what it’s like to be parents. You had the standard “What if I turn out like my dad,” chat (easily dispelled by the fact that he takes after his mum) and the “Baby comes before football,” chat which you needed to hear but definitely did not retain. That one was difficult for both of you, because you didn’t mind pausing your career for motherhood. You knew it would be waiting for you when you were ready to go back, but that isn’t really the case for Jamie. He’s in his prime right now, and it takes a lot of work. You had worked things out on paper, but life is never that easy. Newborns require a lot of attention, and neither of you were sleeping well. Jamie had taken two weeks off training but was back by the third. The only problem was, he was back to his regular 4am training. It’s easy to get enough sleep when you can pick when you go to bed, but not so much when your daughter needs to be fed, changed, burped, whatever every single hour.

In other words, you both were tired and snippy.

Bea was four and a half weeks old when the last straw came.

It was 2:30 am, and you was so, so tired. She needed a diaper change and you felt like you physically couldn’t get out of bed so you poked Jamie.

“Babe,” you say.

“Hm,” he groans, voice gravelly.

“Can you please change her? I can’t move,”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed babe, but I have training with Roy in an hour. I can’t get up every time she needs something. That’s your job.”

Instantly, you are wide awake.

You’ve never heard Jamie take that tone of voice with you before. Never heard it be that intentionally cutting.

You sit up. “Excuse me?”

He rolls over to face you. “You heard me. I don’t have time for this right now. It’s your job, you take care of it. This is not what I signed up for and anyway, you’re the one who wanted a baby, not me. You go deal with it.” He rolls back over to go to sleep and you just stare at him. You're too tired to fight but then Bea cries again and you say, “Jamie what the fuck.”

“Look, babe, I can always go stay in a hotel and get some sleep. You’re the one who wants me to be here with you,” he replies, voice muffled by the pillow.

“Don’t ‘look, babe’ me, Jamie Tartt,” you say, voice icy. “I’m not sure if you recall, but you were the one who told me that Bea would always come before football and you are the one who decided you wanted to get married and you were the one who made all those speeches convincing me that you’d be with me for better or for worse. Well I’ve got news for you: it’s worse.” You get out of bed. “I’m going to change our daughter, and I hope next time I see you, you’ve had an attitude adjustment.”

That must get to him because he sits up and goes, “Babe-” but you’re already out the door.

You end up sitting with Bea on her rocker until 5am, which means you hear Jamie get up to leave with Roy. It also means you notice that he doesn’t come in to say goodbye, just leaves. You stare down at Bea in your arms. She has his eyes and the beginnings of your nose. By 6am you’ve made another choice, and you call your sister to ask her to help move some of your things into your old flat.

—

You leave a note on the counter that says: Jamie. Bea and I are giving you space, and you’re gone by 1. You spend all evening looking at your phone, waiting for a text from Jamie, or a call, or something. Nothing. Your sister doesn’t need much of an explanation and it’s your flat anyway, so she was alright with you and Bea moving in. She made dinner and held Bea, then forcibly made you go to sleep. Her work is flexible, so she said she’d take care of Bea until she had to leave on a trip in two days.

Yet, although you finally had the chance to sleep, you couldn’t. You tossed and turned all night, periodically checking your phone for a text that never came.

—

A week and a half has gone by. Your sister is gone still, so it’s just you and Bea. She’s been crying so much recently, and the thought comes to you unbidden of every time Jamie has held her. She quiets down the moment she’s in his arms like clockwork. You’re running on no sleep and you need to go get groceries so that morning you pack up a diaper bag, put Bea in the car, and force yourself not to care that you look like absolute shit.

You’re almost done shopping when you hear a voice call your name. You turn, and there’s Sam.

“I thought that was you,” he says. “I’ve been meaning to check up on you so I went by your house yesterday, but Jamie said you and Bea were out and he didn’t know when you’d be back. How are you?”

You let out a snort. “Oh he did, did he? That’s rich.”

Sam’s face shifts to concern. “Is everything alright? I don’t mean to pry, but part of the reason I wanted to see how you are is that Jamie has been terrible. He’s been an absolute prick for almost two weeks now and we all just assumed it was lack of sleep.”

You smile, because right now your options are that or cry.

“I’m living in my flat right now. My sister’s on vacation, so it’s just me and Bea. It’s kind of a lot, which is why I look like garbage. I don’t have time to clean or anything either, otherwise I’d invite you around. Anyway. Thanks for asking. Good to see you, Sam.”

You walk away before you either overshare more or start crying, and in your haste you don’t see Sam watching you leave, concern written all over his face.

—

It’s the late afternoon when you hear a knock on your door. It’s Jamie your heart says, but when you open it, Sam, Dani, and Richard are standing on the step laden down with grocery bags, huge smiles on their face.

Before you can say anything, Sam says, “I hope this is not overstepping, but I noticed you had frozen meals in your cart this morning. I was thinking that we could cook you some meals to keep in the freezer, that way you do not have to worry about it.” You open your mouth to protest when Dani interjects. “Besides, we’re a family. Bea is my favorite niece and you are my second favorite sister. We should have seen if you needed help earlier.”

They look so sincere that you smile for the first time in a while and move to let them in. Richard goes to work clearing space in the kitchen while Sam and Dani organize their groceries. It looks like they’ve all gotten ingredients from their native countries, and Dani holds up a bag of chiles and says, “I brought these to make your favorite!”

You’re not sure how he knows of your love for chile rellenos, but he does and as you go to sit on the couch to feed Bea, you feel something close to relief.

Bea is done eating and the kitchen is filled with light conversation and music when there is another knock on your door.

You open it to see Isaac, Colin, Zoreaux, Bumbercatch, and Jan Maas all decked out in cleaning gear and rubber gloves, holding various cleaning sprays, brooms, and mops.

To say you are speechless is an understatement.

“Sam texted us,” Isaac says. “Said something about needing a cleaning service and a babysitter.”

You let them in without a word.

The flat is filled with chatter as they stand around the living room.

“Alright!” Isaac calls. “We’re going to divide and conquer! Colin, you’re on laundry. Zoreaux, you’re sweeping and mopping. Bumbercatch and Jan Maas, you’re on bathroom duty. Alright lads, let’s go!”

“Isaac,” Colin says, “what’s your job?”

Isaac looks at him. “I’m the captain, mate. I’m watching Bea.”

Groans go up from the boys and a chorus of “We want to hold her, why do you get to, I’m her favorite!” when Isaac silences them with an “Oi!”

“When you’ve finished your job and Bea and I have thoroughly inspected them, then maybe you can hold her after you’ve disinfected your hands and arms. Now get to it!”

“Isaac,” you say, pulling on his arm, “you don’t have to do this. Especially not the laundry or the bathrooms.”

He looks down at you, serious look on his face. “Is that for privacy reasons, or are you trying not to impose?”

You hesitate and debate lying. In the end, you tell the truth: “I don’t care about like privacy or whatever, it’s just gross. I don’t want you guys to have to do that.”

Isaac doesn’t respond, just says, “Can I wear the wrap?” so you go to get it and watch as he expertly puts it on and slides Bea in. She lets out a sigh and falls asleep on his chest.

“Right then. Now for your job,” he says to you.

You let out a singular laugh. “What do you have for me, captain?”

“I want you to go to your room, clear off the bed, close the door, and go to sleep. I’ll send Sam or Colin up to wake you if we need you. If you end up sleeping through then night, a few of us will stick around to make sure Bea’s alright. You still have Netflix, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to head down the hall then turn and say, “Isaac?”

“Hm?” he replies.

“Thanks. This means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

Isaac waves that away then points to your bedroom door.

You walk in and shut the door, then are lulled to sleep by the white noise of having half of the Richmond team in your house cleaning, cooking, and reminding you that you are not alone.

—

You’re woken up by Sam shaking your shoulder. It’s golden hour, so soft light streams through the room. The first thing you notice is how quiet it is. You sit up.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Sam says, but he’s not smiling. “We just need you downstairs for a minute.”

You follow him to the living room where the boys are standing behind a couch, arms crossed and backs to you, staring down something on the opposite couch.

Sam clears his throat and they turn to look at you. Bea is still passed out on Isaac in her wrap. They part slightly and you see what they’re looking at.

Jamie Tartt gives you a halfhearted wave from where he sits on your couch.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

Shit.

You sit across from him and just look.

He has the grace to look sheepish. “Look, d’you mind if we talk- like just you and me? Without-” he gestures to the boys.

“No,” Dani, Colin, and Jan Maas chorus, arms crossed, and Jamie nods once in a that’s fair type of way.

Jamie takes a deep breath. “Look, I- I was out with Roy today and we were training, and he called me a prick and he meant it, and maybe I was being a prick, but I shoved him and then he knocked me down and was all ‘what the fuck is wrong with you,’ and I said ‘none of your fucking business,’ and then he said something about a text from Sam and made me tell him what was going on. So I told him that you left and he said,” here Jamie does his best Roy Kent impression, “‘Did she leave or did you fucking kick her out because you were acting like a little bitch prima donna who can’t handle being a grown fucking man?’”

Jamie pauses for a moment. “So I thought about it, and I did fuckin kick you out like I was a little bitch prima donna. And the reason I didn’t text ya or call ya is because I thought you’d come back when you were ready, or maybe you left for good and I fucked something else up. And I didn’t want to be like me dad who was always showing up when my mum didn’t want him to, so I just stayed away. And I said that to Roy and he told me I needed to man the fuck up because I was acting like a whiny brat.” Jamie scratches the back of his neck. “I brought you flowers and came to apologize and tell you that I’m done acting like a kid.”

You squint at him and say, “Apologize for what, exactly?” because you want to know that he knows what he did.

Without hesitation Jamie says, “For telling you that Bea was your job and not mine, and for saying that I didn’t sign up for any of this and making it seem like I didn’t care and saying that I was going to sleep in a hotel by meself.”

Oh. So he does know.

There’s a ripple of whispered oh fucks and you realize that the lads don’t actually know what happened between you and Jamie, and this is the first time they’re hearing about it.

Before you can say anything, Jan Maas says, “How do we know you’ve changed?” followed by a chorus of “Yeah, that’s right,” from the boys.

“Eh, well,” Jamie begins before he is interrupted by a piercing cry from Bea. Isaac tries to hush her, but she just keeps going.

“There’s no way she’s hungry,” he says, “She just had a bottle fifteen minutes ago and I changed her five minutes after that.”

Jamie looks questioningly at you. “Can I-”

The whole team turns to look at you. You nod, and Isaac removes a still crying Bea and gently hands her to Jamie. She’s barely settled into his arms when she has gone completely silent, lets out a sigh, and falls asleep.

“I suppose that is that,” says Richard, and the rest of AFC Richmond shrugs.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say. Everyone looks at you again. “If you ever, and I mean ever pull shit like this again, I will fucking sic this entire room on you and I will call Roy and I will not care how long you end up in the hospital. I can’t raise Bea on my own, but it turns out that I don’t need you.”

Jamie looks like he’s about to cry a little and you soften.

“I don’t need you, but I want you. And- I do miss you.”

Jamie smiles at that and you get up to sit next to him.

The boys murmur amongst themselves, and Isaac salutes you as he herds them out. You mouth thank you to him, and he waves it away yet again, leaving the three of you on the couch in comfortable silence for the first time in weeks.

—

Marriage is not easy, neither is raising a kid. Things didn’t automatically go back to how they were, but you and Jamie did get better. You got better at talking about your struggles, decided 2:30am is not a good time to fight, and began working out a healthy football-life balance. He trains with Roy three times a week instead of six, and Isaac and Colin babysit Bea once a month so you can go out. They’re the only ones besides Rebecca who are allowed to be with her unsupervised. (Not because the others are untrustworthy, but because they don’t know what to do with a baby) so by the time Theodore Dani Tartt comes around, you’ve got this thing nailed.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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junikicker · 1 year ago

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The Proposal - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader (Part 1)

The Proposal Part 1 - Rebecca Welton x fem!reader

note: you want it, you get it. rebecca welton x reader au based on the movie the Proposal with Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock. also, this is pre ted arriving at Richmond.

warnings: language

The sun was shining through the curtains of your Richmond flat, coaxing you awake gently. Instinctively, you turned around to shut off the alarm that usually woke you at five every morning. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You groaned as you scrambled to get out of bed, the alarm reading 6:22 a.m.

After quickly getting dressed, you came rushing out into the streets with your tie loosely around your neck and toothbrush still in your mouth. You started running down King Street and Old Palace Place, discarding your toothbrush into the closest bin as the trees around you were blurry due to your fast pace.

It had barely been two months since Rebecca Welton took over AFC Richmond after her rather nasty divorce from Rupert. You had been Mr. Mannion’s assistant for three years and Ms. Welton seemed to like you at least to the point where she felt bad about firing you, so she let you keep your job. She also felt like she owed you for telling her about her, now, ex-husband’s affairs with other employees.

You reached Nelson Road just moments before Rebecca’s arrival, fixing your appearance in the first mirror you found. “Oh, Y/n. Great to see you!” Higgins greeted you as you rushed your way up the stairs to the office you were sharing with Rebecca until accommodations were made. “G’morin’ Leslie!” You greeted back with a smile. “Someone’s in a rush.” He stated matter-of-factly. “Consider waking up twenty-three minutes ago in a rush.” You agreed easily, trying to catch your breath.

Your conversation was then interrupted by the sound of heels echoing through the halls and then up the stairs. “Well, here she comes.” You said to yourself and Higgins shot you an understanding look.

“Good morning, Boss. You have a conference call in thirty minutes.” You informed her as she gracefully strode on into her office. “Yes, about the auctioning of the art Rupert, oh so graciously, left me. I know.” She replied and sat down at her desk as you rushed over to make her a cup of tea. “Staff meeting at nine.” You added.

“Did you call, uhm… what was her name again?” She asked you absent-mindedly, opening her laptop and typing away. “Janet?” You offered, placing the cup on her desk. “Yes, Janet.”

“Yes, I called her and I told her that if she doesn’t get her hands on the matter immediately, there will not be any matters for her to get her hands on in the future. Also, your lawyer called. The one you hired for the divorce. He said that it is imperative-” You informed her but she cut you off immediately.

“Cancel the call, push back the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets. And also get a hold of PR and have them start drafting an interview with Coach Lasso as soon as he gets here.” Rebecca ordered. She had always been quite distanced, it was just what you thought she was like.

“Nicely done.” You replied in a monotone voice. “If I shall want your praise, I will ask for it.” She replied coldly, picking the cup up and taking a big sip out of the mug. Her phone rang. By now you knew that if she was occupied, it was your task to pick up for her. “Morning. Ms. Welton’s office.” You answered. “Hello, Bob.” You replied at the sound of a voice that you were, involuntarily, very familiar with and rolled your eyes.

At you mentioning the name, Rebecca just waved her hand, but you knew her well enough to know what she meant by the gesture. “Actually we’re headed to your office right now… Yeah.” You hung up the phone before turning to your boss with a confused expression. “Why are we headed to Bob’s office?” You asked as Rebecca came to stand again. It never failed to impress you how she always seemed to have her shit together, acting rational all the time. She gave you a look. The look. The look that meant someone was going to get fired.

As the two of you left her office, you once again noticed that you had a hard time keeping up with her pace. “Have you looked over the list of international players in interest I gave you?” You asked her, continuing your walk down the halls. “Uh, I read a few pages. I wasn’t that impressed.” Rebecca replied, keeping up her pace.

“Can I just say something?” You asked her. “No.” She replied instantly as you came closer to reach Bob’s office. “I’ve been looking over hundreds of lists of players and this is the only one I ever gave to you. There are some incredible players on there.” You explained.

“Remember, you’re just a prop in here.” Rebecca reminded you. Ah yes, there it was again. As if you didn’t hear that at least twice a day from her. You opened the door for her to step in without knocking.

“Ah, our fearless leader and her liege. Please, do come in.” Bob joked, his American accent coming through as he got up from his desk chair, glasses on his nose.

“Beautiful shelve you got here, Bob. Is it new?” Rebecca asked, turning around, her face in disgust at having to interact with the man. “It is English Regency Egyptian Revival, built in the 1800s but, yes, it is the newest addition to my office. Rupert gave it to me.” Rebecca’s face seemed to scrunch up in disgust even more but she shook it off before turning back around.

“Bob, I’m firing you.” She then stated, getting straight to the point. The tall, tanned man looked at her as if she was delusional. “Pardon?” He asked. Rebecca sighed.

“I asked you more than a million times to get Chelsea to transfer us Reece James and you didn’t do it. You’re fired.” She calmly explained and you closed the door. “I have told you that this is impossible. James is not transferring for the next years.” Bob tried.

“Now that’s interesting, you see because I just got off the phone with Chelsea and he’s in. You didn’t even call them, did you?” Rebecca asked, walking up closer to the mahogany desk. “But-b.” Bob tried to find his voice again. “I know, I know. They can be a little scary to deal with… For you. Now, I am willing to give you a month to find a new job. And then you can tell everyone you resigned. Fine?” Rebecca offered. Oh, how she always knew how to play her cards.

And with that, the two of you left his office just the way you had come in. Rebecca didn’t bother to look around. “What’s he doing now?” She asked you and you turned around for her. “He’s moving, He has crazy eyes.” You observed, continuing to walk. Rebecca came to a stop and sighed.

“You poisonous bitch!” Bob yelled and suddenly all eyes of the people around you are on the three of you. “You can’t fire me! You don’t think I see what you’re doing here? Sandbagging me into this Chelsea thing just so you can look good to the board? Because you feel threatened by me! And you are a monster!” Rebecca remained calm. “Bob. Stop.”

“Just because you have no life outside of this office, you think you can treat everybody here like your own personal slaves! You know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you’re gonna have on your deathbed? Nothing and no one.” Rebecca took a deep breath in, she was acting like the words didn’t get to her before she formed a reply.

“Bob, I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened by you. And I don’t need to look good to ‘the board’ because I am ‘the board’. And I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent and you spent more time cheating on your wife than my ex-husband did, cheating on me. And if you say another word, Y/n here is going to have you escorted out of this building, hands tied to your back, alright?” Rebecca spoke, still somewhat calm as Bob went to speak again. “Another word and you’re going out of here with an armed escort. Is that what you want? Didn’t think so. Y/n. Spit spot, we’ve got work to do.” Rebecca said, spinning on her heel and walking back toward her office.

“Have security take his breakfront out of his office and put it in the conference room. And I need you around for this weekend to review his files and other work.” Rebecca informed you, picking up her pace from before. “This weekend?” You asked her, a frown on your face. “Is there a problem, Y/n?” She asked you, stopping in her tracks. “No. I… just my grandmother’s 90th birthday so I was gonna go home and...” You started but she already went back to making her way to her office. “...it’s fine. I’ll cancel it.” You unwillingly agreed.

Once you were back in the office, you called your family to cancel your visit. You tried your best not to let it get to you but were pissed, to say the least. “I know, I know. Tell Babcia I’m sorry. Okay? Satan is not gonna let me outta here for the weekend… No- I – Listen. I’ve worked too hard for this job to throw it all away, okay?” You Explained to your mother, starting to lower your voice as you heard heels clicking over the floor. “Oh, I’m sure Tata is gonna be pissed… but we take all of our submissions around here very seriously.” You hung up the phone as the office door opened and Rebecca walked in.

“Was that your family?” She asked immediately, standing next to your desk. “Yes.” You replied. “They tell you to quit?” - “Every single day.” The phone rang again. “Ms. Welton’s office, Y/n speaking.” You answered. “Oh… Yeah. Okay. Alright.” You replied before hanging the phone up again.

“Your lawyer is here and wants to see you immediately.” You told Rebecca who groaned in response. “Okay. Come get me in ten minutes. We have a lot to do.” She ordered and left again.

As she left the room, your eyes were trained on her hips, swaying as she walked. She definitely knew how to dress. Everything she wore looked perfect on her and fitted her body in a way that never ceased to impress you. You had caught yourself checking her out on more than one occasion but never really thought anything of it.

Exactly ten minutes later, you knocked on the door to the main conference room, before letting yourself in. “Excuse me, we’re in a meeting.” Her lawyer, a tall, blonde man, in his thirties, addressed you with disgust in his voice as he saw you in your suit. “What is it?” Rebecca asked in a displeased tone, playing her part as perfectly as always.

“Marina Granovskaia from Chelsea’s office just called. She’s on the line.” You informed her. “She needs to speak with you right away, I told her you were otherwise engaged.” You rushed out, eager to get Rebecca out of whatever this was as fast as possible. Her eyes lit up at your words and she silently urged you to come in with all sorts of weird hand gestures.

“Uh… Mr. Swan, I understand. I understand the predicament that we are in. And, uhm… And there is, well… I think there is something you should know.” Rebecca stuttered, getting up from her seat at her desk, walking over to you. The way she stumbled over her words seemed suspicious to you. What was going on? “We’re...getting married.”

“We’re getting married?! What the fuck is going on?! You’re my boss!” You whisper-yelled once her lawyer left and you closed the door behind him. “What?” She asked, sitting back down at the table all calm and collected. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Relax, this is for you too.” She stated as if it would explain anything that had just happened. “Do elaborate.” You joked. “They were going to sell the club.” She started. “So naturally I would have to marry you.” You deadpanned.

“And what’s the problem? Like you were saving yourself for someone special?” She asked, looking down at some paperwork, green eyes skimming over it. “I’d like to think so. Besides, isn’t that illegal?” You asked. “The point?” She shot back, looking up at you again. “We’re no terrorists.” Her eyes went back to the paper in front of her.

“Rebecca.” You tried again. “Yes.” She sighed. “Rebecca, I’m not gonna marry you.” You told her sternly, standing straight. “Because of what? You don’t ‘fancy the ladies’? Because you obviously do. The amount of times that I catch you checking me out is higher than the amount of looks any man, including my ex-husband, ever gave me.” She smirked up at you, leaning back in her chair. “I- I do, in fact, ‘fancy the ladies’…” You agreed under your breath. “Sure you are going to marry me. Because if you don’t marry me, your dreams of becoming our transfer manager will be shattered into pieces.” She stated, pleased with herself.

“They’re gonna fire you the second I’m gone. Guaranteed. That means you’re out on the street, alone, looking for a job. Which means all the time that we spent together, all the tea cups, all the canceled dates, the midnight Tampon runs, and all the shit you did under Rupert, were all for nothing, because he won’t take you back after telling on him, your dreams are gone. But don’t worry after all this is settled, we’ll get a quickie divorce and you’ll be done with me.” Rebecca explained and it started to make at least some sense to you. “But until then, like it or not, our wagons are hitched to the other’s. Alright?”

#gxg #wlw #fem!reader #lesbian #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso #the proposal #hannah waddingham #junikicker

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thetarttfuldickhead · 1 year ago

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”I talked to Southgate yesterday.”

The sun is not yet up; Jamie is dutifully stretching his legs in the cold yellow of a streetlight when Roy suddenly speaks. It’s the first thing he’s said all morning, except for gruff commands of run and ten more and fucking higher, Tartt.

“Yeah?” Switching legs to work on his other calf, Jamie tries for a casual tone, fails, and doesn’t much care. “What about?”

Roy gives him a look: the fuck do you think? There’s no heat in it, though. Rarely is these days, and that thought is a glowing ember in Jamie’s chest, equal parts joy and amazement.

For a moment, Roy doesn’t say anything else. Jamie completes his stretches and straightens. Waits, with heart hammering hard, hard beneath his hoodie.

“He got in touch two years ago,” Roy finally offers, seemingly adressing the streetlight. “Before the Euros. Asked about you, what sort of player you were.” He glances at Jamie then, face carefully blank. “I told him the truth.”

That… hurts, unexpectedly. Not because Jamie is surprised, really, or because it is unfair, because he isn’t and it’s not, but still. It stings, though not as bad as it had back then, and for different reasons.

He wants to make a joke, say something glib to chase the taste of resigned dismay and shame away: he opens his mouth; closes it again. Looks away from Roy and is grateful that the other man seems content to leave it at that rather than going into the details of just what he’d told Southgate. Fair or not, Jamie thinks he can do without hearing it. He can imagine it well enough.

Roy is studying him, like he’s expecting Jamie to protest or complain. It feels a little bit like a test, maybe. Jamie remains quiet. Fiddles with his sleeves for something to do with his hands as the silence grows longer and the morning colder around him.

And perhaps it is a test after all, because after a moment Roy nods slowly before starting to talk again. “Anyway, yesterday I called him up to let him know that those things I said two years ago weren’t true anymore, and that I didn’t want any of that to be held against you now.”

Jamie’s eyes snap to Roy’s face and he opens his mouth to speak, but Roy holds his hand up, forestalling him. “Now, I have no idea what’s going to happen so I don’t want you getting your hopes up, but I’m telling you this because if he calls I want you to be prepared, because he’ll be asking about that stupid shit you pulled, what the fuck you thought you were doing, and I need you to be on your best fucking behaviour, okay? Don’t grovel, but none of that fucking cocky bravado or defensive bullshit either. You were a prick, you understand that now, and you’ve worked fucking hard at being better. Got it?”

Jamie nods, quickly, eagerly, because yeah, yeah, he can do that. Would probably be up for a bit of grovelling too, if it increased his chances of being called up. Fuck, he’ll say whatever he has to say, spill his whole fucking heart if need be to prove that he can be the best fucking—

Suddenly, he frowns. Roy notices and raises his eyebrows. “What?”

“Should I… “ Jamie pauses, uncertain. “Should I tell him, you know, about me dad? I mean, if he asks why I left City to do a TV show, what do I say?”

Roy considers that for a bit. It occurs to Jamie that Roy probably doesn’t actually know why Jamie ran out on City the way he did; Jamie certainly never told him, and he doubts Ted did either. But he can probably guess the rough shape of it anyway.

“Gareth’s a good man,” Roy offers at long last. “You want to tell him the truth, you tell him the truth, he won’t say a word. Don’t try to use it as an excuse though.”

“I won’t,” Jamie says with a small scowl and a flash of annoyance, because when has he ever?

Maybe Roy realizes as much, because his face softens into something almost apologetic. “I’m just saying, because I don’t want any of that old stuff getting in the way of you being called up now.“ He pauses, like he’s hesitating over whether to keep on talking or not. Settles for keep on talking, apparently, because he adds, without looking at Jamie, “You deserve it.”

Three words, and enough for the ember in his chest to roar into open flame. Jamie can feel the heat of it reach his face; gentle warmth in the February chill. “Thanks, Coach.”

---

The call comes two days later. Taking it has Jamie running late for training and when he finally rushes into the dressing room Roy lays into him with enough venom to make the other players carefully back away from them. Still, Jamie can’t do a thing to quell the grin on his face.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” Roy snaps.

“Southgate called.” He’s a little surprised to hear how dazed he sounds. Feels like he could fucking fly, but the words come out almost hushed.

Roy immediately stills. “And?”

He should savour it, perhaps, the triumph of this moment. Take a second to marvel at the sight of Roy – Roy fucking Kent – holding his breath as he waits for an answer, but he can’t, he can’t, it’s too big, to happy, too fucking good, and he can’t hold it in. “He’s calling me up.”

#was trying to rewrite my old ficlet locker room conversation II to better fit with what we got in canon #that didn't work and this happened instead #apparently i’m stupidly obsessed with how this whole thing went down #and what part roy played in both then and now #i want ALL THE VERSIONS #what little i know of this process i know from #The (in)Complete Guide to Britpicking and Finer Football Details #by scoatneyhall and belmottetower #whatever i mucked up i mucked up on my own obviously #jamie tartt #roy kent #pre 3x10 #roy & jamie #ficlet #my stuff

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gurugirl · 2 years ago

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Could you please write something with Professor Harry telling the reader off or hurting the reader and then comforting the reader

A/n: Thank you anon for the idea! I know you asked for this over a month ago so I'm sorry for the delay! I hope you enjoy!! 2k words

Pairing: Professor!Harry x College Student!reader

Warning: Angst, fluff (no smut in this one you guys)

Professor!Harry masterlist

You really felt like you and Harry were becoming a little more serious. He wasn't sleeping with anyone else, though he'd occasionally invite your friend to join you two, he wasn't going to anyone other than you.

So when you suggested that you and he go to the beach for a night one weekend at your aunt's beach house, you figured Harry would be on board. That he'd want to spend some time with you away from the campus and his house, lying on a beach where no one would spot you. Plus it would only be for one night.

"Are you fucking insane, Y/n? Why would I do that? Go find your little friends and take them with you. Or some other guy you can bother with that bullshit."

You were stunned. Yes, Harry sometimes would talk to you like this but it was usually when you were being naughty and he was punishing you or degrading you during sex. Not like this. And what he said hurt you. Some other guy you can bother?

"I... why would I find another guy? I thought you and I were sort of..." you swallowed your words when Harry lifted his glasses off the bridge of his nose and looked up at you.

With a laugh he spoke, "You thought we were what? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Baby, if you thought that you're dumber than I imagined."

You just stood in his home office with your mouth dropped open. Not twenty minutes earlier he fucked your brains out and held your hand while he sucked your clit, and now this?

Wrapping your arms around your middle you turned and felt your tears burn down your cheeks. You were embarrassed. You had been wrong about his intentions and well, if he wanted you to find some other guy to take to beach, perhaps he had been sleeping with others.

You grabbed your sweater and your bag and slid your shoes on and left. Walking back to campus would only take thirty minutes. You'd rather walk yourself than ask Harry to drive you. You were too embarrassed to show him how upset you were and the tears he'd pulled from you with his careless words.

That evening was strange. You hadn't felt so out of it and sad in a long time. Harry had really done a number on your confidence with what he'd said. You had some soul-searching to do. It was still early so sleep wouldn't find you to put you out of your misery just yet. You made tea and took a shower and cried. But you couldn't stop thinking about what Harry had said.

When you put your moisturizer on your face and body and wrapped your wet hair up in a towel you sat by your window that faced the courtyard. The sun had gone down but there were still some students milling about. The more you thought about what Harry had said the angrier you got. It was laced with sadness, but now anger was the forefront emotion. Yeah. You were pissed now.

You got dressed and blow-dried your hair and decided you were going to the college bar down the street. You knew some of your friends were there tonight. You were going to live your life and move on from Harry.

You never needed to drink much to get tipsy. When you arrived Shay had already ordered you a mojito (they were on special). You danced with your girlfriends and drank a little too much but you had a good time. There were even whole minutes that would go by that you weren't thinking about Harry.

When Ted showed up you immediately gave him a drunk-girl hug and pulled him to the table where you were with your friends. Ted had been a long-time friend. He was attractive and outgoing and kind. He even asked you on a date last year but you declined for some one reason or another. And now your drunk mind was buzzing with the idea that he could be the one you bring to your aunt's beach - like Harry told you.

So in a moment of alcohol-induced clarity, you texted Harry, who had not once reached out to you after you left his house, by the way, to tell him you took his advice and found the perfect guy to take with you to your aunt's beach house. Then you sent him a photo of a selfie you'd taken of you and Ted together. The one where Ted was kissing your cheek and had his arms wrapped around your middle holding you tight.

Of course, the truth was, that you hadn't actually asked Ted about that yet. You just thought you'd let Harry know. Drunk clarity and all.

The night ended not long after. Ted did ask to see you again and this time you said yes, of course, though official plans weren't made, you told him you'd call him and set something up.

The following day was Monday. You dragged yourself out of bed and realized your hangover wasn't that bad. A glass of orange juice, a warm shower, a large coffee, and some sunshine, and that was all it took to feel okay by your first class. You also wore a cute little revenge number to get Harry's blood boiling. You would ignore him when you got to his class and leave without staying behind like you normally do.

Harry's class was the final one of the day. You walked in and took a seat toward the front, so he could see your outfit. A short light blue dress that hugged your middle and your breasts and showed plenty of thigh. You had your hair in a high ponytail and wore white Keds. It was actually a really simple outfit but this dress was cute and you knew Harry liked it.

You crossed your thighs and swung your leg and kept your eyes on your book as Harry entered the class. You pretended you didn't care about his presence. Normally you'd be sitting up straight and watching him closely with a small smile and waiting for his eventual glance at you. Not today.

The interesting thing was, that when you were feeling sassy and tried to act casual in class to pretend you didn't care about what Harry had said to you the night before, your note-taking skills were impeccable. Hell, you remembered the lesson and everything. When you weren't fawning over the hot professor, you were actually paying attention.

When the bell rang you stuffed your notebook into your bag and made a beeline for the door, not even once looking in Harry's direction.

"Y/n... come here, please," Harry spoke loud enough that you'd hear him before you could step out of his class. You stopped in your tracks as other students pushed passed you to exit. When you turned to look over your shoulder at Harry it was the first time you really looked at him. He wore a frown on his face but you were trying to stick to your resolve.

You sighed and turned to walk to his desk. You stood a few feet away and raised your brows at him, but didn't speak.

Harry sat at the edge of his desk and crossed his arms over his chest, "Are you mad at me?"

You huffed and rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest to match his body language. You responded with sarcasm, "No. I'm fine, professor. Why would I be mad?" You were fuming. You knew he knew and it was dumb to address it.

Harry chuckled and shook his head as he looked around the class, "Don't lie to me, Y/n. I can see right through you. Let's go to my office and talk."

You shook your head, "No. I'm busy. Can't," you stood up straight and felt your heart beat wildly. You didn't want to talk to him alone. You knew you'd buckle and forgive him or cry and embarrass yourself. You didn't want to give him a chance to see you cry or find out how weak you were.

"Yes, you can. I know your schedule. Let's go," Harry stood up and plucked up his cell phone and a notebook and took you by your elbow, and led you to his office.

Once he closed the door he walked across the room to sit in his chair at his desk. You stayed by the door and put your hands on your hips. You were trying so hard to be tough and appear unbothered.

"Sit down, Y/n. Stop playing this game. We need to talk. Don't be stubborn."

You shook your head and took a deep breath. You could already feel the warm tears trying to break out of your lash line.

Harry shook his head and sighed as he got up from his chair and walked to where you were standing.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said to you yesterday," Harry kept his arms at his sides as he looked at you, only a few feet away.

You bit your lips into your mouth and looked down. You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying. You hated how big of a sensitive wuss you were. His apology shouldn't have made you feel so warm and so tingly but it did. You hated how he had so much power over your emotions.

"Hey, look at me. Please, Y/n," Harry's hand found your fingertips and he softly brushed the pads of his fingers over yours.

You refused to open your eyes for concern of the tears you knew were about to spill out. Also, just looking into his clear green eyes was like looking into a clean soothing brook that made you feel safe and calm. You didn't want him to evoke any more emotions in you than he already had.

You heard Harry sigh again and his fingers dragged up to your wrist and he pulled you gently toward himself. He wrapped his arms around you and suddenly your cheek was pressed into his warm, wide chest where you could hear his heart beating and smell his cologne.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I mean it. I don't know why I said what I said. I think I'm just worried about what's going on between us. You're my student and we've crossed so many lines but things are deeper than just sex, aren't they?" His hands moved up and down your back in soothing touches that were eating away at your determination to keep him at arm's length. To keep mad at him.

When you still didn't respond he kept going, "I'm scared that I'm in too deep and that you're going to realize I'm too old for you and move on as soon as I'm no longer your professor. That the magic will wear off for you."

You felt your tears raining down. There was no stopping it. His deep, slow voice and the way he was holding you against his chest had completely erased the anger you felt toward him.

"I don't want you going to the beach with anyone but me. I didn't like seeing that photo last night, but I guess I deserved that."

You hummed and nodded, your first real response to him.

Harry kissed the top of your head, "Are you really going to the beach with him? Did you replace me already?" His arms were tight around your body, he squeezed harder after he asked if you'd replaced him.

You sniffled and shook your head, "No."

It was quiet for a moment. Harry's strong arms around you and his hands rubbing over your back had you melting completely. You had totally surrendered.

"Baby, look at me, please," Harry loosened his grip and looked down at you. You slowly tilted your head back to finally look up at his eyes. The ones that you knew would pull you right back in.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said yesterday. That was my insecurity speaking. Okay?"

You nodded and let yourself smile the smallest smile before you put your face back into his chest. You were relieved and the ache you'd felt since he told you all those awful things the day before had completely vanished.

Harry kissed the top of your head again and squeezed you tight, "Let's go to the beach together. You and me. I love that idea."

You nodded into his chest and smiled, your tears still wet over your cheeks. Harry hummed into your hair when he felt you nod.

"Good girl. C'mon. Let's sit and make plans. I want to make our beach getaway a good one."

Feedback/Thoughts | Support Me | Main Masterlist

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @michellekstyles @ssaama @sombrioinvernoemveneza @golden-hoax @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @yousunshineyoutempter @the-gardener-31 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @dancinsunflowerkiwi @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @harrys-foxy @dirtytissuebox @closureesny @lhharrylilpumpkin @evelynlarue @chaptersleftunwritten @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysmimi @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lllukulele @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @anothermannharry

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #professor!harry #professor styles #college student!reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #firstpost

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creativecuteness · 2 months ago

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Okay you guys are not going to believe this or maybe you will believe this maybe I'm just slow and this is common knowledge in the fanbase. However, I was doing my yearly mbav marathon and last night I watched The Brewed; I've always been curious on the timeline of each episode and when they take place during the year I'm a stickler for it because of my fanfiction series I always thought the gang face off against supernatural forces pretty much every week I mean the show is a monster of the week format so in my eyes it makes sense.

However, I do like to think there are slow weeks or months where nothing happens but for the most part, I like to think the gang deal with supernatural problems pretty often. And I was under the impression that season one went from late September to early November or December and season two is pretty much the same timeline unless they went back to school early since it was still warm enough to have pool parties who knows I don't love in Canada.

What I'm trying to get at here is in the Brewed Hick's said he got Latta Latte to Celebrate 100 days until Summer Vacation I've always been intrigued with that line I tried to search for an estimate of the date before a few years ago but found nothing until today.

100 days until summer vacation puts the episode in around February which is kind of insane to me but makes sense, since in the same episode Rory takes his zombie mask from the teacher's lounge and said Hick's took it from him back in September notice how he says September not last month or two months ago. (Yeah, I know that's a stretch but it's still interesting to me, let me cook.) Still the point is from the way Rory spoke it seems like he got that taken away a good while ago which was always odd to me if the episode took place during the last half of the year. But wait there's more, I found out when the gang's midterms most likely took place for episode 13.

According to Goggle, again this could be for the US only but I'm rolling with it. Midterms normally take place mid-October to mid-March (Yes, I know this should be common knowledge to many, but I've been homeschooled my entire life don't @ me.) It couldn't have been in October since the gang just stopped Jesse about a month ago and the school year would've just begun for them for the most part. Plus, in Three Geeks and a Demon which takes place a good few days before the season finale. Benny says they owned an evil tree last month referring to episode 8 Die Pod. So that puts episodes 8, 9, and maybe 10 around January to February I already established episode 11 takes place in February as well; but episodes 12 and 13 takes place in March or around that time. In other words, their adventures are a lot more spread out then I originally thought and more importantly how much supernatural insanity took place behind the scenes.

I don't know if this is entirely accurate since it's a tv show and potholes pop up all over the place if there are any inconsistencies that you can debunk let me know I'll revolute everything.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

TLDR: While doing research for future mbav fanfic entries I discovered that episode 11 takes place somewhere in February and freaked out because I thought the first season's timeline was September to around November to December. I could be super wrong though.

#mbav #mbav stuff #my babysitters a vampire #my babysitter's a vampire #timeline #trying to figure out an accurate depiction of the mbav timeline #timeline woes #also fanfiction woes since I like staying as accurate as possible when it comes to these things #fan theory #timeline theory #my ramblings #ramblings #mbav timeline #this took me so long to write out

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thebibutterflyao3 · 9 months ago

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Day Thirteen - Prompt: Necklaces @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 797 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Evan toyed with the layered necklaces that he always wore as he waited for the next customer to sit down. Just like yesterday, the tattoo shop was packed with people taking advantage of holiday time off. There was nothing quite like the high of new ink to brighten their drab lives. Evan knew that better than anyone.

The bell over the door trilled to announce yet another new customer. He leaned up in his seat to see if it was one of his regulars. It would be nice to see a familiar face.

He registered the faded green tips of the bloke’s hair before anything else and immediately ducked back into his cubicle. Evan cursed under his breath as he busied himself with straightening up his supplies. The last thing he needed today was to deal with Barty.

“Frank? You want to see Frank?” Emmeline said, sounding puzzled. “Alright, but you’ll have to wait a bit. He has three people ahead of you.”

“That’s fine. I’ll wait.”

Evan ground his teeth together in annoyance. He should be glad that Barty requested Frank. It saved him the humiliation of refusing to serve the prick. Barty wasn’t known for taking rejection well, as was evidenced by his confrontation with Pandora.

“Do you know what you want?” Emmeline asked.

“Nah, he can pick. You know I don’t care, Em.”

“Yeah. I assumed as much, but I had to ask.”

Emmeline wandered through the cubicles on her way to Frank. She aimed an apologetic smile at him as she passed his stall and mouthed “sorry.” He shrugged and feigned indifference.

As she delivered the message to Frank, Evan’s hands balled into fists in his lap. He needed to pull himself together. This was completely normal for Barty every time he came in. He never asked for anything specific or even bothered looking through the idea books on the counter. It was always, “whatever you want.”

Besides, he was Barty’s flatmate. It made perfect sense for him to request Frank. They were barely friends, from what he’d seen. Definitely no chemistry between the two of them.

I don’t care if they did have chemistry. That’s not my problem anymore.

Except, he did care. Too much, probably.

Emmeline leaned into his stall on the way back. “Are you alright? Do you need to take a break?”

“I’m fine. Just give me something to do, Em.”

“Do you want a big piece? I have a bloke waiting that wants a dragon.”

“Yes, I’ll take it,” he said eagerly.

She nodded curtly and disappeared. “Tonks? Are you ready? Stall two.”

When the man appeared in his doorway, Evan smiled politely and offered his hand. “Evan Rosier. Nice to meet you.”

“Ted.”

“What are we doing today, Ted?” Evan settled onto his stool and gestured at the table. “Emmeline mentioned a dragon.”

Ted nodded as he pulled off his shirt. The outline was already placed and trailed from the top of his spine down to the small of his back. It was a detailed piece and appeared to be custom-made.

“Is that one of ours?”

“No, my daughter drew it,” he answered, grinning as he plopped on the table. Ted turned to let Evan examine the piece. “Pretty good, right? It’s a surprise.”

Evan studied the design carefully. It was intricate, but large enough that he shouldn’t have any trouble with it. The dragon’s scales were hinted at with a few small sections instead of the entire animal, which was doable.

“Colour and shading or line work only?”

“Line work. I figured I’d let her colour it in when it heals and take a picture, so you can see how to finish it later.”

“That works. Is this your first tattoo?” he checked.

“Yes.”

“This will probably take a few multiple hour-long sessions. Is that alright?”

Ted glanced back at him and nodded. “I can handle it. Don’t worry.”

Evan patted his side with a grin. “Just making sure you’re prepared. How’s your pain tolerance?”

“Good. I broke my arm two years ago and didn’t know it.”

“Nice. Go ahead and stretch out on your belly for me. Try to relax and let me know if you need a break,” he advised, turning to gather his supplies. “Music preference?”

“Nah, whatever is fine.”

Evan picked up his phone and opened his favourite playlist. “This one’s a mix of genres, so I’m sure there will be a few you like.”

As the opening notes of Mr. Brightside flowed through the speakers on the counter behind him, Evan bobbed his head. He tucked a clean cloth in the waistband of Ted’s jeans to protect them from the ink and give him a comfortable place to rest his hand.

This is great. I’ll be too busy to even think about him.

Next Part>>>

#barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan x barty #barty x evan #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty jr #evan rosier #rosekiller #rosekiller microfic

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oh-surprise-its-me · 1 year ago

Note

Roy/Jamie fic idea: Instead of hate, what if when Jamie first comes to Richmond it is love at first sight between him and Roy. Like Jamie's always loved Roy since he was a kid and is starstruck at finally meeting his fav while Roy has to battle to keep up his gruff and grouchiness when all he wants to do is gawk at the gorgeous new striker who walked through the door and immediately looked at him like he's hung the fucking moon. How differently would things have played out if Roy took Jamie under his wing, Jamie stopped being so much of a prick because he wanted to be a good teammate and please Roy too, and then when Ted Lasso himself arrives, Jaime and the boys soak up his positive ethos quicker and start winning?

AWWW I LOVE THIS

(Also are you a mind reader I was literally thinking about this last night)

Roy knows he needs to stop looking at Jamie.

He hasn’t had a problem with keeping his eyes to himself for years. Why is this kid any different. But the way Jamie is practically bouncing in place with energy, his eyes, his ass. Roy normally hates when new players say they loved watching him growing up but Jamie? Jamie saying it made Roy feel special.

They are the only two in the locker room at the end of the day, Roy has been debating this for the last 15 minutes but fuck it. He taps Jamie’s shoulder, “wanna come over and eat? I’ll cook. Give you some advice.”

Jamie blinks at him for a second like he can’t believe Roy is real. “Uh yeah sure mate that would be incredible.”

Roy nods. He takes Jamie’s phone from his hand, he typed in his house number into Jamie’s map app. “Come over whenever, I’m going straight there.”

Jamie nods. “Yeah fab I’ll be there.”

—————

It’s been about six weeks of the them getting to know Lasso, Roy’s gotta say he’s impressed. Jamie works like magic under him, even dropped a bit of the prick attitude.

They still have dinner together almost every night. Roy every once and a while asks if Jamie has been on any dates. He selfishly hopes he hasn’t because that means he’ll be Roy’s more nights.

Jamie doesn’t really seem to date. Roy figures he’ll drop the fact he’s bisexual tonight just to see how Jamie reacts.

•

Jamie is sitting on Roy Kent’s kitchen counter. Fuck if 17 year old Jamie could see him now he’d be crying.

Okay lie.

He’d be asking to blow Roy under the dining room table they eat at some nights. But that doesn’t matter because Roy is straight and Jamie just needs to adjust his love for Roy to a more platonic intentions.

He’s swinging his legs when Roy drops the biggest bomb of all times. He’d asked Jamie if he’d dated recently. No. The answer is always no. Why date when he could be here with Roy. He returns the question to be kind, but prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that the answer is no.

“No no dates since a failed date with a guy two months ago.”

Jamie slams his foot into the cabinet. Shit.

“You’re gay??” Roy freezes. He spins and looks at Jamie, “no bisexual. Problem?”

Jamie can’t shake his head fast enough, “no god no I mean same, me too, I’m. Uh. Bi. First time I’ve actually said that out loud. To someone it actually could effect.”

Oh goddamn it Jamie you really fucked it. Your goddamn big mouth wouldn’t shut up.

Roy clicks off the stove, he sets down the whisk with such care that the whirl of emotions Jamie sees when he turns is shocking.

Roy steps over in between Jamie’s legs, shit.

He slowly places his hands on Jamie’s thighs, “tell me if I’m wrong but I think we both want to kiss each other.”

Jamie frantically nods, he reaches and holds Roy’s face.

They kiss.

Once Jamie needs to breathe again he pulls away, shit. He loves Roy. “Shit I might love you.”

Jamie goes bright red. Cool great fabulous this was nice. Time for him to go die of embarrassment.

“Think I might love you too Jamie.”

Scratch the dying he’s about to become a fucking God. “Seriously?” Roy kisses Jamie’s collarbone, “yeah. Guess love at first sight does happen.”

“Shit Roy you are literally never getting rid of me now.” Roy laughs, he leans in and kisses Jamie again. “Wouldn’t want to get rid of you anyways.”

(They move in together in two months) ((and are extremely but healthfully co dependent))

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #roy kent #jamie x roy #royjamie #fluff #jamie tartt x roy kent #roy kent x jamie tartt #thanks for the ask !!#this was super cute I loved it #hope you like !!

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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 2 months ago

Text

The Fox

Season One Masterlist

Machismo

Natural Born Killer

Summary: There is an unsub killing families of a mom, a dad, a son, and a daughter in Maryland and Virginia who were thought to be on vacation before being found dead in their homes.

Warning: References to the death of children; Talk of unchild-like behavior; Mention of Emily Prentiss; Reference to Season Twelve Arc, Zoe being kind of mean to Garcia

"You will catch the fox with cunning and the wolf with courage." — Albanian Proverb

Doctor Thomas Fuller wrote, "With foxes, we must play the fox."

Jack Hotchner (even though Hotch had stated he didn’t want his son to have the same name as a serial killer but chose the name of one of the most infamous) was born October nineteenth, 2005, exactly nineteen days ago, the first (known) child of the BAU since Zoe and his birth had been far less scary than her own, twenty years ago. He was finally meeting his BAU family. He seemed to be so sleepy as Hotch held him.

"He's so gorgeous." Zoe said, showing a whole new side to her.

“Thank you.” Haley said, beaming with pride.

“If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive.” Spencer said.

“Look at his little witty bitty nose.” Garcia cooed.

“He is so cute. Cuter than I ever was.” Zoe said.

“Zoe, you were a cute little baby.” Alexander scolded his youngest.

“No. Zarah was the cute baby. I was the baby that everyone was concerned about and the stillborn.” Zoe deadpanned.

“Briefly! They resusitated you! Before I had a heart attack at twenty-one. And I mean, yeah, you said your first word at six months old and by nine months, you could speak full sentences. And by three years old, I found out Rossi let you interview Ted Bundy.” Alexander had to agree that Zoe did cause quite a bit of worrying with her unchildish-like behavior and fascination with true crime and serial killers.

“Well, he was being executed in January.” Zoe deadpanned like she didn't see what was wrong with that.

Garcia changed the subject as Morgan approached and JJ looked at Zoe, incredulously, “Don’t you want one of these.”

“Mm. I’ll just stick to practicing.” Morgan snarked.

"Zoe?"

Zoe looked at Garcia with an initially incredulous look that slowly formed into a deadpan look which usually meant Garcia was being unintentionally insensitive. In this case, the man who killed her mother got off on killing both pregnant women and their unborn fetuses

Elle came over and said, "Congratulations.

"Thanks. She's amazing. I'm a little terrified." Hotch said.

"Rightly so." Zoe said, obliviously, adjusting the

"Zoe." Alexander scolded his youngest.

"What?" She asked, still oblivious. "Shush! He'll get cold! Speaking of cold, colds in newborns are not usually serious but it can develop into more dangerous conditions if left untreated. A fever of 100.4 or higher under three months is considered an emergency and should go to the hospital. And babies can suffocate in unsafe sleeping positions, the safest sleeping position until age one in on their backs, this can refuse the risk of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome by up to forty-five times and gravity makes it harder for spit up to enter their airways, which can prevent choking. And infants have a higher percentage of body water than adults and since they can't communicate their thirst, they're espeically suspceptible to dehydration.

Spencer nodded in approval, not realizing how horrified they were making everyone else. Haley looked espcially horrified.

"Are you trying to give us both heart attacks now?" Hotch deadpanned.

"Maybe." She said. "Ever heard of paternity leave?"

"Zoe."

"What? I was last BAU child, and I was a disaster." Zoe said.

"You'll be fine, Haley." Alexander reassured her. "I raised two girls who were too smart than any baby should be that their age."

"We should get going." Haley said, seeing Elle had cases in her hands.

"A pleasure seeing you, Mrs Hotchner." Spencer said, formally.

Haley put baby Jack back in the stroller and rolled him into into the elevator.

"Sudden Infant Death Syndrome?" Hotch asked Zoe.

"What?" She asked, incrediously.

Elle handed out the files with a heavy sigh.

"Bad?" Hotch asked.

"The worst." Elle said.

They arrived to the briefing room where Gideon had put up the photos of the crime scene and victims on the board. "Crawford family. Murdered three days ago."

"I saw it on the news." Morgan said, entering.

"They were found in the basement of their house." Gideon said.

"Bags packed for a vacation they never took." JJ added.

"Reporter said it was a murder-suicide? The father stabbed them all and then shot himself?"

"That's the conclusion Maryland State Police came to. The gun was found next to the father, he had gunpowder residue on his right hand."

"That's usual. Two different weapons in a murder-suicide." Zoe noted, frowning. She personally knew a person or two connected to a murder-suicide... or attempted one.

"And now you must have some compelling reason to think that Chris Crawford didn't off his family?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah. Another murdered family, the Millers, found a month ago." JJ said and put down a photo of a family. "The mother, Reese Miller, her two children and her new husband. Again, they were found in the basement, and like the Crawfords, their suitcases were packed for a vacation."

"Both cases, the bodies were discovered five days after their vacations were supposed to have started." Gideon said.

"Yet the coroner determined that they had been dead only twenty-four hours." JJ added.

"So, for four days both families remained in the house." Spencer noted.

"Location of the bodies in both cases, the basement. That indicates a level of organization." Gideon said.

"With a quick but disorganized application of overpowering force." Morgan added.

"If these aren't murder-suicides, someone's doing a damn good job of making them look like it." Spencer said.

"Possibly this man, Eric Miller." JJ said, holding up a mugshot photo of a man. "Biological father of the Miller children. Arlington PD issued a BOLO for Miller after the bodies were discovered."

"Ex-wife Reese Miller had a restraining order against him for domestic violence." Gideon said.

"When did she get remarried?" Morgan asked.

"The week before they were killed." JJ said.

Morgan sighed and said, "Violent husbands believe their wives and children are property. Reese Miller getting remarried possibly made him snap."

"I don't know." Zoe muttered, her instincts told her it was just too easy.

"Well, the Virginia cops finally located Eric Miller last night responding to a drunken disturbance at a motel, where Miller had been hiding out." JJ said. When they found him, they discovered blood on his black leather jacket. It belonged to his children."

"Was any of his DNA found at the Crawford house?" Morgan said.

"No." Gideon said.

"Did he know the Crawfords?" Morgan asked.

"If he does, he's not saying. In fact, he hasn't said a word since his arrest." JJ said. Spencer picked up the suspect's photo and raised his eyebrows in surprise at the look of the thuggish-looking man. "The Arlington PD have asked us to interview him."

"Oof, if anyone could apply overwhelming force, he's your man." Spencer commented.

"I want you and Zoe to find out. Talk to him." Gideon said,

"You-you want us to, uh, talk to him?" Spencer stuttered.

"Yeah, you've both done interviews before with other agents running point. You can do it together." Gideon said.

"Yeah, the last time, I was up close and personal with a criminal, he kicked my ribs in while saying some very inapporate words in Russian. This should be fun." Zoe deadpanned, causally.

"You interviewed multiple serial killers and cult leaders since you were three." Alexander deadpanned. "You spoke to Ed Kemper multiple times that you had such a rapor that he often complimented your intellect."

"And bombers and arsonists and kidnappers and terrorists. What's your point?" Zoe said with a defensive tone at the mention of the example.

"Did she just say terrorists?"

"Well, it wasn't so much an interview as them punching me and shouting at their professional torturers." Zoe said, again with that casualness.

—————————————————————————————

Spencer awkwardly fumbled with the door handle as Zoe watched before he finally opened it.

"You know, a door." She snarked.

He gave her a look before turning back to Eric Miller.

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid and this is Doctor Zoe Noble-Valdez. We're from the FBI." He said as he opened the door for Zoe and closed it behind her.

"We'd like to ask a few questions, if you don't mind." Zoe said with a polite smile.

"You two got something you wanna ask me?" Eric spoke in a gravelly voice, "you look me in the eye, and you ask."

Zoe sat down as Spencer took his bag off and followed suit, sitting next to Zoe.

Spencer cleared his throat and looked through the file, "Three days ago..."

"You're not looking at me." Eric said.

Spencer looked him in the eye, still anxious and spoke, "Three days ago, the Crawford family was murdered."

"Is that right?" Eric said, passively.

"Did you know them?"

"What are you getting at?" Eric asked in a soft voice that Zoe recognized not only from that of roughened criminals but of her own. The kind that foreshadowed a danger in them. The want to be intimidating to survive.

Spencer opened the file and took out a photo of one of the Crawford family's bloodied hand from the morgue, peeking under the sheet.

"They were killed in the exact same way that your family was killed."

"And?" Eric asked, "I've been slapped around all night by every cop in Virginia. What makes you think a damn photo is gonna scare me?"

Zoe noticed he was cynical that they would actually get anything done. And as she knew from his profile, he had a long history of violence that stemmed from his childhood of near constant abuse, added in that he was an African-American in Virginia where at best he was two times more likely to be pulled over just for driving and his ex-wife, her new husband, and his children were found dead and he had their blood on him. From the look at it, his injuries weren’t just from the brawl but agitated police too.

Spencer looked down thinking and Eric hit the table abruptly with his handcuffed hands, making Spencer flinch. Zoe, however, didn't react at all, she just looked at him with the same professional, near apathy, she almost always had. "Is that what this is about, hmm?" He was getting angry.

Zoe didn't see sociopathy in him though, she saw hurt only caused by the heartache of a parental figure. She remembered that look from her childhood when Alexander would talk about Zelena. She remembered that look during the amount of the investigation for her sister after she had come back in her dad's eyes. The look in her dad's eyes when they told him that the kidnapping of Zarah Noble-Valdez had been marked a cold case. And every day since. The grief of a father.

Zoe briefly glanced down at Eric's handcuffs hands. They were brusied from throwing punches and... he was still wearing his wedding ring.

"You think I'm crazy? You think I suddenly snapped and I slaughtered my own wife and kids?" His voice broke with rage and mourning and exasperation. "You think I did this? Huh?" He slammed his fists back onto the table, making Spencer flinch again, albeit less violently as Eric furiously stood up. "IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK!?"

The guards restrained him as he stood up, making Spencer stand up, more out of fear of being attacked as his professional facade cracked as Zoe remained as calm as ever, staring up at Eric with no fear, showing more how that prison had traumatized her than at first glance. She had learned not to flinch long since before that, now it wasn't even an instinct to flinch.

Then Hotch, Elle, and Alexander came in, "Mister Miller, sit down now."

"IS THIS YOUR DADDY!" Eric shouted.

"Actually, I'm her's." Alexander said, placing a hand on his daughter's shoulder. “Agent Alexander Noble. Don’t you dare yell at my daughter.”

"I'M DONE TALKING TO YOU PEOPLE!" He shouted.

Zoe finally spoke, speaking as calmly as she usually did, a stark contrast to Eric's emotional screams just a moment ago, "We don't think you're crazy. We work with the Behavior Analysis Unit, we're trained to study the neurological reasonings of criminals. We are psychological profilers." Zoe nodded at Spencer, "Doctor Reid, here, is extremely socially awkward... like there's socially awkward and then several levels up there's Doctor Spencer Reid."

"Zoe." Spencer hissed.

She looked at him and nodded at Eric like, do your thing, superbrain.

"You don't have to talk. Just listen.” Spencer said, “on the—on the occasions you assaulted your wife, you were intoxicated, once the effects of alcohol wore off, you were overcome by feelings of remorse.”

“Which indicates that it’s less of what you truly wanted and more of habitual tendencies you picked up as a child.” Zoe added.

“I’m gonna tell you this just one time, you two shut your mouths!” Eric shouted at them.

“Genetic factors contribute to alcohol stress interactions. Your-your mother was an alcoholic, and she was often too drunk to stop the beatings that your father gave you."

"I think we should stop this." Elle suggested.

"They're not finished." Hotch said.

"They know what they're doing." Alexander said.

"Age six, you were orphaned to a family where the abuse continued, only..." He faltered slightly before continuing, "this time it was sexual."

"None of this was your fault but they made you feel like it was and like you were crazy if you even considered otherwise." Zoe said.

"You both shut your mouths or I'm gonna rip your faces off!" He snapped.

Alexander tensed, giving him a glare at the threat against his "surviving" daughter.

"The abuse continued well into puberty..."

"You became an angry young man, history of violence, drugs, and drinking." Zoe added.

"But my..." He glanced at Zoe, "but our one concern is, Eric, did you or did you not continue the cycle with your own children?"

Eric who had been on the verge of tears this entire time, seemed to be on the verge of breaking down now as he looked at Spencer as if the thought both horrified him but had been one he thought about much too often.

"I never laid a hand on my children. YOU HEAR ME!?"

Spencer nodded and said softly, "I hear you."

"You can't imagine what I saw." He still wasn't opening up. "You can read what I've been through but you can't understand the pain."

They were almost there, Zoe could see it. They just needed one more push. If there was one thing she understood more than criminals or mental health, it was pain caused by trauma and the darkness it inflicts upon someone.

Zoe took a deep breath and leaned forwards, placing her intertwined hands on the table. She spoke calmly but her words were filled with horror and trauma. "My twin sister was born in a hospital three days before me because a deranged madman, that my parents were chasing down, threatened to kill my newborn twin sister, forcing my dad to flee with her, and he kidnapped my mom while she was still in labor with me. He tortured her for days while she was still in labor and then he killed her, just because he could. Because he knew she would put her unborn child with no life above hers. He got off on that kind of thing. Killing pregnant women, letting their fetuses slowly die inside them. My dad found her barely alive with multiple axe wounds to the chest and I had to be delivered via emergency C-section before I died in her womb. Fifteen years later, my dad was a highly esteemed FBI agent and an UnSub who had become obsessed with me kidnapped both me and my sister and put us in different locations. So we would cooperate, becuase he knew we were smart enough to fight back but if the other was on the line, we wouldn't. We'd take whatever he did for the other. I certainly did. He killed people in front of me, he tried to brainwash me, he tried to break me. I managed escape after nearly a year but my sister hasn't been seen since. Every time I look in the mirror because I am nearly identical to her. I see my reflection and all I see is the fact that she's out there and all I have to keep me going is my twintuition that she's still alive which doesn’t exactly appeal to those who aren’t twins or the cold case intuitive or the police, still bound, still gagged, still tortured, waiting to be saved despite being marked a cold case two years ago, and I'm trying to get justice for other families before they end up like my sister, like your wife and kids, to appease my guilt of being the 'lucky' twin. I do know trauma, sir. I do know pain and darkness and heartache. I have been pushed to the brink by murderers and rapists and arsonists and professional torturers. I have been cut, stabbed, burned, starved, drugged, psychologically tortured, physically tortured, and beaten within an inch of my life. I have had every charge of assault committed onto me more times than you dare to believe because of nothing but sheer sadistic enjoyment, they weren't compelled to do it because of a mental illness, they were just sick in the head and misogynistic. I am trauma. I am pain. I am darkness. But most relevantly, I am not like most cops, I don't assume because you're a scary black man with a bad past of abuse and violence that you committed the crime, or that you're about to, while it's not great you were found with the blood on your jacket, you may still be innocent. I know people that are living proof of breaking the cycle of child abuse." Hotch and Alexander. "I just need to hear your side of the story. Your word may allow us to get justice for your children and while we cannot bring them back, we can stop any more children from dying.”

It was silent as everyone but Alexander looked at Zoe in horror and shock at her words as she stared down Eric with intense eye contact that said as much as her words did.

She had sympathy and remorse in her eyes but she kept her facial features calm and professional. Eric could see it. The darkness that infects someone's soul when someone is mercilessly cruel to them even though they had done nothing to deserve that. The darkness that corrupted an innocent life. The pain that remains. The scars that remain on someone's soul long after the physical wounds heal and the physical scars fade. Yet there was light. It was like light shining through cracked glass but it was there because she resolved to remain a good person who was pure at heart but remained a warrior on the outside to keep from getting hurt again.

"I found them like that." He confessed, he dropped his head down as he finally allowed his tears to fall, "Dead. Bloodied." He looked up as his voice broke, "My babies. My sweet, little babies." The guards let him sit back down, "I-I was crazy out of my mind. I didn't know what to do. And I knew the cops were gonna blame me, and they have."

Alexander was behind his daughter again, pulling her into his chest as a hug, holding on tightly to his last baby as if fearful someone would rip her out of his grip.

"So you ran?" Spencer asked.

“Of course he did, his wife had a new husband and the kids had a new father, he had a history of violence including assaulting his wife while intoxicated, they were divorced, he had their blood on his jacket, he has a history of violence before he even met her and he’s an African-American, he's three-point-five times more likely to experience police brutality than white people. Even if the evidence hadn't been stacked against him, he'd be the first one they'd suspect. It's his natural instinct to run from the police even if he didn't do anything wrong. That's why they never caught the Zodiac Killer. They drove past him, assuming that the Zodiac was a black man."

"So what have I got now?"

"You have your innocence. For the sake of your children. I believe that they, at the very least, deserve the truth." Spencer said and he closed the file.

"I can't get the image of my dead children out of my mind." Eric said as Alexander's grip tightened around the only daughter he had left, "Ty, my little boy, he was clutching a-a piece of paper. I think it was a drawing. May-maybe a painting. Please, I'd love to know what he painted, Doctor Reid, Agent Noble-Valdez."

Zoe nodded and followed Spencer out of the interrogation room, walking quickly past him, trying to swallow the emotion she had been holding back down until she nearly walked into a wall, catching sight of herself in the mirror. Of the image of her sister.

Spencer, Hotch, Alexander, and Elle caught up with her, her father pulling her along to walk with them.

"Interesting interrogation techniques." Elle told the young geniuses, "What did you two hope to accomplish?"

"Well, he was closed off, defensive, hostile." Spencer explained. "I needed a way in."

"And you?" Elle asked Zoe.

"He didn't believe we understood his pain, only that we knew of it. He's right, we can't understand his pain, we can only understand our own. He needed to hear my pain. My past. My trauma. He needed to see that I understood pain, that I sympathized with his pain by explaining my pain to him so he could sympathize with me. He needed another broken soul of abuse, trauma, and assault to empathize with him."

"He's suffered a breakdown, but I don't think he killed his family and I know he still loved his wife." Spencer continued as Zoe refused to look at them.

"Why do you say that?" Hotch asked.

"Even though, they were divorced, he still wore the wedding ring." Spencer said.

"And he never said 'ex-wife', he said 'wife'." Zoe added, "And the murders were meticulous and organized depsite the disorganized force. That is due to some aftermath to a delusional, possibly. That man has no delusions. He's been the jail, he's hurt, he's broken, he's a cynic. A realistic cynic. Like I said, police will naturally blame him, he's a black criminal with a history of violence. Any crime he's committed are disorganized and violent in the moment. But he's not broken enough to kill his kids."

—————————————————————————————

Spencer, Alexander, Elle, Morgan and Zoe sat back in the office, staring at the whiteboard with the crime scene photos on it as Gideon stood in front of it, staring at them.

"I believe the UnSub had control over this family. He may have separated each family member. He tells the mother, 'If you scream, I'll kill your children'. He tells the children, 'If you cry, I'll kill Mommy'. The suspect found a way of restraining them without leaving marks." Gideon said, turning back to the team.

"Based on lividity, the ME estimates that the father was the last to die."

"Which means he witnessed the whole event." Alexander said with a heavy sigh, he reached over and stroked his youngest daughter's hair. He wasn't sure he could take that.

"If he did spend time with both families, he must have known he had the time to spend with them." Morgan said.

"Because he knew they were going on vacation." Spencer added.

"Look at travel agents, relatives, work colleagues, contract workers, children's tutors." Gideon said.

The speaker phone beeped and Hotch's voice spoke through it, "Gideon, we've been looking into the Crawford financials."

"Allison Crawford spent way more money than Chris could afford." Garcia said, "They were in major debt."

"And Chris Crawford wrote a number of cheques for a series of visits to a therapist." Hotch added.

"She had two cell phone accounts. One of them billed to a separate address in Southeast Washington, D.C." Garcia said.

"Did you get that?" Hotch asked.

———————————————��—————————————

They kicked open the door of the address, very loudly. Hotch and Elle shouted, "Federal Agent" and Morgan shouted "FBI".

The place was a mess but it was familiar. It was familiarly messy. Her mind immediately went to noting a note of neurodivergence. It was the kind of mess her father would create when he would slip from his medication or when the depression would be too much, if he hadn't had Rossi, or Gideon or their significant others, it would be a lot like this.

"It's the cleanest thing in here." Elle said, referring to a blue dog bowl.

Gideon went to a framed drawing on the wall and he took it down.

"What's that?" Elle asked.

"It's a child's painting. It's a colonial house. Mom, dad, two children out front holding hands." Gideon said.

"And a big dog." Zoe noted.

"I think this is the Crawford house, it's signed by Emily.

"Strange." Spencer mused.

"Yeah, Eric Miller said he found his son clutching a painting." Zoe said. "He wanted to know what was on it."

"What was on it?" Elle asked.

"His son's blood." Gideon said.

"Well, I can't tell him that." Zoe said, irritatedly.

There was a sound of nearby clattering and then the sound of presumably Morgan kicking down a door, followed by the barking of a large dog.

"Hey! Hey, don't shoot the dog!" Zoe shouted, running down the hall.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, easy..." A voice said and whistling, calling the dog over.

It was a big man, standing where the shadows covered him.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe say next to Gideon in the interrogation room across from the man they apperhended, Frank Fielding who Zoe deduced had Bipolar disorder.

"Why am I here?" Frank asked.

"I think you know why." Morgan said.

Frank pointed to the drawing, laying on the table, "That's mine.

"The colors indicate a self-confidence with an outgoing personality. It shows an above-average intelligence. The child that painted this was left-handed. Emily Crawford was left-handed." Gideon deduced.

Morgan tossed a paper wad to Frank and Frank instictively caught it with his right hand. "You're not."

"How'd you get the painting, Frank?" Zoe asked and Frank slowly put the paper wad on the table. "Did you forget to take your meds today, Frank? For a severe manic-depressive, that's not good. My dad has it too."

"They make me feel wrong!" Frank protested.

"Wrong enough to kill the Crawfords?" Morgan asked.

Frank looked up and then back down. He seemed... hurt.

"Frank?" Zoe asked.

I-I did a-a bad thing." Frank stuttered.

"What did you do?" Zoe asked.

"I shouldn't have gone to the house. Allison told me not to. I would never, never hurt Allie. She's the only family I've got." Frank said.

"Family?" Morgan asked.

"She's my sister." Frank said, his voice broke as he repeated, "She's dead. She's dead." He was clearly in mourning. "He killed them. Chris did. I know he did it.

"What bad thing did you do?" Zoe asked, gently.

"The rule was, I was never supposed to go to the house. That was the only rule. Allison said if Chris saw me he would never let me see her again. He was gonna lock me up in the loony bin." Frank said. "He never liked me.

"You went to the house."

"She said she couldn't visit me any more. I just wanted to see her. Seeing Allison made everything better. But they cut my phone off that day. The day I went to see them, they cut my phone off!" He started to get angry, "I never would've gone to the house if they hadn't cut off the phone!"

Behind the glass, Alexander said, "Sounds like Zelena's family." Some hadn't liked him very much due to his disorder.

"There's no way this guy could've gotten into the house without a key. Knowing how Chris Crawford felt about his brother-in-law, do you see him having one?" Elle asked.

"No." Hotch said.

"Frank, you went to the house. What did you do?" Gideon asked Frank.

"It was dark and cold. I went around to the side, to look through the window. My breath steamed up the glass and I wiped it clean. And I could see them sitting down for dinner. I saw Emily and Sam... and Sam was crying. I guess he was in trouble."

"Did you see Allison?" Gideon asked.

"Yes. She was saying grace over the table and then... she looked up and saw me and she mouthed something at me. I think it was, 'Get the hell out'. So I left."

"Did Chris see you?" Gideon asked.

"No, he wasn't there, but a friend was at the head of the table." Frank recalled.

"You said, a friend?" Morgan asked.

"I saw someone." Frank nodded.

"What did this person look like?" Morgan asked.

"I didn't see their face, but tiny, really tiny."

"White or black, Frank?" Morgan asked.

"I don't know, but..." Frank said.

"What?" Morgan said, urgently.

"The hair, it-it-it was red." Frank recalled.

It wasn't Chris at the table.

If Frank saw them that day, it wasn't Chris Crawford at the table. She wasn't saying, "Go away." She was saying, "Help me."

Frank seemed to realize this too, "It-it wasn't a friend."

"Frank." Zoe said, gently.

"It wasn't a friend at all. It was him. He's the one who killed them." Guilt overcame Frank at the realization he could've helped.

"Frank."

"I-I-I-I..."

"Frank..." Zoe said, getting up, sensing a meltdown.

"No! No! No!" Frank started to hit himself in the head.

"Frank, stop." Gideon said.

"Frank, Frank." Morgan said.

Quickly, they pushed Frank against the wall and Hotch came in to help.

"No, No! No!"

"Frank!" Zoe grabbed onto Frank's arms, shouting louder than the team had heard before. "FRANK! CALM DOWN! CHILL THE EFF OUT!" She pushed him against the wall, her being the youngest, still really a child, at barely twenty years old, calmed him down slightly, enough to look at her in shock as she spoke loudly on the verge of yelling, saying each word slowly but not in a patronizing way like most people did but so it could sink in and calm him down, "Calm. Down. You hitting yourself in the head is not going to do anything. There was nothing you could've done. You didn't know. We can still catch that bastard and give Allison, and Chris, and Emily and Sam the justice they deserve and keep this bastard from hurting anymore families. He will pay for what he did to your family."

He started to sob, brokenly.

—————————————————————————————

Frank was committed out of fear of further self-harm and possible suicide due to the realization and him not taking his medications.

"Both families had a dog and both houses had a dog door." Morgan said, pointing to the board."

"Fielding said that the person he saw was small.

"Yeah, well, in order to get through that door, you'd have to be five-four, tops and real thin." Zoe said, shrugging but didn't say anymore as that was classified.

"When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Gideon quoted.

"Sherlock Holmes was a fictional character. Whoever did this isn't."

"Sherlock Holmes was based on a real person." Zoe said, "We can be pretty sure he's probably found himself another family by now."

When they left the room, Zoe was holding Emily's picture, looking at it.

"You okay?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, just... I know an Emily." She said.

"Oh."

"Doctor Joseph Bell." Zoe said suddenly.

"What?"

"The person Sherlock Holmes was based on. Gideon read them to me when I was a kid. This guy's no Moriarty." Zoe said. "And isn't that quote just behavioral profiling in a nutshell.

—————————————————————————————

"He's been looking at those pictures all morning." Elle said, referring to Gideon. She looked at Zoe at her desk who was staring at pictures of Emily Crawford's drawings with headphones on, somehow simutaniously lost in thought and fully focused "And so has Zoe."

"Well, I sure hope they see a connection, because I've checked doctors, lawyers, travel agents, tutors, contract workers... I got nothing." Morgan said.

"Why target those families?" Elle asked.

"Well, to know that, we have to know how." Hotch said. "Reid, tell Zoe to pause her audiobook."

"Why do I have to do it?" Spencer frowned.

"Because last time Morgan did it, she nearly broke his wrist." Hotch deadpanned.

Spencer took a piece of Dove chocolate—Zoe had gotten him a giant bag for snacking since he often forgot to eat and threw it at her, it missed by a foot but her hand still shot out and she grabbed it. She looked up and he motioned for her to take her headphones off. She did so.

"All right, we know organised killers are often skilled workers with above-average intelligence." Morgan said, getting up from his chair as Zoe unwrapped the chocolate, "A high birth status, and in most cases, male. In the workplace, he's socially confident. And with women, sexually competent. Every offence is pre-planned. Targeting the victim is almost as pleasurable as the actual kill. These guys, they're meticulous. It's a compulsion. Everything has to have its proper place. They do exhaustive amounts of research on their victims. They watch their every move. Every last detail is observed. Everything has to be written ever so neatly in a book or possibly a journal. Like when the kids are coming home from school, when Daddy will be home. Playtime, suppertime, bath time, bedtime. Plan the work, work the plan. This is the way that he maintains control. It's also how he personalises his target. So, nothing's left to chance and absolutely nothing is left out of place. Ever. So, he plans the work. And when he's good and ready, he works that plan. He takes great pride in his job." He sat back down. "I think the workplace has to be the connection."

Gideon came up to them, holding two pictures of a house they had found one with no color in the Crawford's house and one with color they had found in Frank's possession.

"Both are by Emily. Painted months apart. This one... is full of color, life. The one I found at Emily's house has lines, dimensions. No color. I believe Emily was coerced to make this."

"It's a point of view." Zoe realized, kicking her wheelie chair over to him to take the colorless picture, too lazy to get up. "It's his point of view. It must be where the killer stood and just watched the family."

She gave the picture a rather disturbed look, like she was remembering something unpleasant. She was. So Alexander took it from her, she shook her head and rolled back to her previous spot.

Hotch spun a wedding ring on the table, "each of the dead husbands was missing his wedding ring. This is the UnSub's trophy."

"He targets a family because he lost his own." Alexander realized. "For a few days, he gets to play daddy."

"And he can do whatever he wants because no one's gonna come lookin' because they're supposed to be on vacation." Morgan added.

"Let's get forensics to check the inside of Chris Crawford's clothing. The suspect may have worn the father's clothes to..." Gideon scoffed at the word, "Complete the fantasy."

"But why kill them?" Elle asked.

"'Cause the fantasy can't last." Zoe said, darkly.

"What did you say about Miller having no delusions?" Hotch asked.

Before Zoe could reply, Spencer spoke in automatic monotone 'And the murders were meticulous and organized depsite the disorganized force. That is due to some aftermath to a delusional, possibly. That man has no delusions'."

"Zoe, you saw it."

"When the delusion breaks, it can anger them. Make them kill."

"Do we know anything that actually helps us identify this bastard?" Elle asked.

"Wait a minute," Morgan said and looked at a picture of the deceased Crawford family. "Chris Crawford worked for the I.R.S. and Reese Miller was a secretary at the GAO."

"That makes them both government employees."

—————————————————————————————

Zoe and Spencer went to Garcia's lab to assist her.

"We've got to stop meeting like this, Reid. People will talk." Garcia teased. "But then, talk is cheap."

"Yeah, I hear H.R.'s considering another sexual harrassment meeting based off your banter with Morgan alone." Zoe deadpanned.

She pulled up a chair with a big bag of chocolates in her lap.

"Talk's not cheap when you're talking to a therapist. The Crawfords made twelve weekly payments to the Applewood Family Center. What about the Millers?" Spencer asked and took a chocolate that Zoe was offering him.

Garcia brought up the Millers' bank records, "No, nothing here."

"How about pharmaceuticals? No one gets therapy these days without a healthy dose of medication." Spencer said.

"What're you implying, Reid?" Garcia asked.

"That everyone is medicated." Spencer said, blankly.

Garcia just looked over, "Did you just make a joke?"

"No." He said, blankly, "Statistics. They show that..."

"Reid, next time, just say 'yes', okay?" Garcia interrupted.

"Well, he's right before you so rudely interrupted him. After I was kidnapped, Dad tried to make me do children's therapy and but I instead defied everything the therapist said and Gideon's wife suggested PTSD medication."

"You were kidnapped when you were twelve?" Garcia asked, aghast.

"I don't remember any of it. And it's not the time for me to remember it." Zoe said, sharply as if trying to drill that into their brains and she didn't want to talk about it.

"Now, medication normally requires a reimbursement from the HMO and since she works for the government like we do, we share the same health care provider." Garcia said as Zoe took out her phone and started to hack Garcia's computer as ease.

"Are you hacking into the government's HMO database?" Spencer asked. "Is that legal?"

"Of course not. We'll both go to prison and you'll be someone's bitch." Garcia said. Oh, how she will regret that in twelve years. As a certain someone really rubs that in.

"Really?" Spencer asked, blankly.

"Mmm. If that ever happens, I think you'll feel like the bitch yourself. Having been to prison myself, I know you wouldn't last a week, Garcia. That's why you took this job. They don't allow unicorns." Zoe deadpanned and then she slapped Garcia's hands.

"Hey!"

"I'm a medical doctor, Garcia, unlike Mister three-PhDs here. I have access." Zoe said, typing on her phone and it brought up the HMO database on Garcia's computer.

"How'd you do that?"

"I hacked into your computer." Zoe said, blankly.

"When?" Garcia asked, seeming floored.

"Uh, like twenty seconds ago." Zoe said, "You are aware I'm the one who caught you and made the profile when you were a criminal and goth, right?

"No! How'd you do that so easily?"

"I'm a better hacker, I guess. And who do you think was the technical analysis before you? Only you get paid and as I was a child, I was not. I know these computers as well as a UnSub's mind. Look."

Zoe had been controlling the computer remotely and Garcia saw it and chose to let go for the time but to complain about it at length to Morgan later.

"Good call, Reid. Mrs. Reese Miller, Diazepam."

"Who prescribed the meds?" Spencer asked.

"Doctor R. Howard at the Applewood Family Center. Let's find out what he looks like. Here we go." A picture of a woman came up. "Doctor Howard isn't a 'he'."

"Thanks, Garcia." Zoe said, sarcastically.

"Well, how about I hack into your file!" Garcia said, pettily and then attempted to but like with most of the FBI files, they were wiped clean. "What!? How!?"

Zoe patted her on the head and walked out of the office. Spencer watched her walk out.

—————————————————————————————

Hotch, Morgan, Alexander, and Gideon went to Doctor Howard's place of work and learned the the UnSub's name was Karl Arnold.

"Of course." Zoe sighed.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"He was the child therapist I went to. He had me draw houses but there was something off about him. So naturally I sassed and defied him as much as I could. I kept drawing upside down houses or ones from books or H.H. Holmes' murder hotel. " Zoe said.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe met up with Gideon and Morgan at the next family's house, the Dunkins, on her motorcycle. The SWAT used a thermal camera to see into the house through the closed curtains. "We've got three adults and two children sitting at the dining room table. They moved in, stealthily and they kicked the door in.

"FBI! FBI!"

Jackie, the young daughter ran into the mother's arms and the mother cried, "He's got my baby!" The father was all bound and gagged.

"Ma'am, is he alone?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, he is!"

"Where's the basement?" Gideon asked.

"Under the stairs!"

Zoe took off running even when the lights went off, Karl's doing no doubt. She opened the door beneath the stairs and walked down without the flashlight. There was enough light coming through the window from her. Gideon and Morgan soon followed

"Karl? Karl, it's the FBI." Morgan called through the darkness.

He nearly jumped when he shined it on Zoe's face.

"What the... why didn't you have a flashlight?"

"Don't need it." She said, moving through the darkness of the basement.

Suddenly she clicked the flashlight on and spun around, shining the light on Karl Arnold who shushed them as he swaddled the baby, smirking.

"Karl, why don't you give me the baby?" Zoe said, calmly, approaching as she was the smallest, youngest, and less intimidating-looking, it had been years since she saw him. She saw him when she was twelve but he had creeped her out so she left to return to Harvard where her best school friend had helped more than any therapist had, and you couldn't really argue with her because she was held captive for eight months

"Karl? Please."

Karl glared at her as she approached slowly, side-stepping, he recognized her but she had to try.

That's odd, she noted, the baby wasn't crying. Her eyes darted down and she spotted him smothering the baby. He was suffocating him.

"Karl, get your hand off the baby's mouth." She said with more authority, a note of danger in her tone.

He slowly did so and the baby started to cry.

"Okay, good. Karl, look at me. I'm gonna put my gun away... and I want you to hand me that baby." She said gently as the baby screamed and cried.

Karl slowly stood back up as Zoe holstered her gun at the same speed and held out her arms, approaching slowly. "Give me the baby."

Then he got a deadly glint in his eyes and threw the baby at them.

"NO!" Zoe screamed and caught the baby as Karl went to fight. He brandished a knife at Morgan as Zoe handed the screaming baby to Gideon and she took out her gun.

BANG!

The bullet grazed Karl's neck.

"The next one stays in you." She threatened.

"You look familiar." He said with a somewhat mockingly curious lilt of his voice.

"Stay there."

"Have I treated you before?" He pretended to remember, "Xiomara or are you Zarah? Both left the house in February of 2001, didn't come back home to your FBI daddy."

"Shut up." She growled.

"You showed up eight months later, thinner and paler than you were before, cut and bloodied but your sister... never found. You never accepted that she was dead because of you."

Morgan slammed Karl against the wall by the throat, "You move or say one more word to her and I will break your neck."

—————————————————————————————

Zoe arrived back at the BAU before them in time, to set up the board just as Gideon had asked and wait for them.

Morgan angrily clutched the chained Karl's arm as they directed him out of the elevator.

"How'd you get here so fast?" He asked.

"Motorcycle."

"You shouldn't ride a motorcycle. They're death machines." Karl said with mocking sincerity.

"Shut up!" Morgan hissed at him, yanking him past Zoe who followed.

He was friendly to everyone he saw as if he hadn't just tried to smother a baby but they all stared at him. When he got to the glaring JJ he asked, "How are you?"

"Keep it moving." Morgan said, pulling him past JJ and Zoe and Gideon stopped

"Did he say anything?" JJ asked.

"No." Gideon said.

"Nothing helpful." Zoe said.

"Can we tie him forensically to the other crimes?" Gideon asked.

Negative on foreign DNA. He must've washed Crawford's clothes." JJ sighed.

"Then we'll need a confession." Zoe said.

"Can you get one?" JJ asked.

"Did you do what I asked?" Gideon asked Zoe.

"Yeah. He won't be able to help himself." Zoe said and went to join Morgan.

—————————————————————————————

Zoe and Gideon sat across from Karl in the interrogation room while Morgan stood.

"Emily Crawford was a very talented and gifted girl. Her brother Sam, a bright, energetic child. You watched them from the yard for days, maybe even weeks. You learned everything about them. You studied their every move and then you wrote it all down." Gideon said but Karl seemed more interested in staring at the board Zoe had set up.

"May I have a glass of water?" Karl asked.

"Something wrong?" Zoe asked with no politeness in her voice.

"No, I'm just thirsty."

"Water, please." Gideon told Morgan.

Karl held up his shackled hands, "could you remove my shackles? I'm clearly no threat to you."

"Do you think we're stupid? They stay on. You just killed two families and were about to kill another and you threw a one-year-old baby at us." Zoe scoffed.

A uniformed officer handed Morgan a cup of water and he placed it in front of Karl.

"You chose families that reminded you of the one you lost." Gideon said as Karl drank his water.

"You stalked them. You bound them. You terrorized them. And once you knew if they weren't seen soon, people would get suspicious, so you killed them, one by one, making the dads watch so they would suffer, watching their families leave them like you did. " Zoe said, "We have your journals. Your serial killer memoirs. You aren't the only one who learned about me during our sessions, even at twelve I was a pretty damn good detective."

"It's my job..." Karl sighed, "to write everything down. To get to know them. I can't help them solve their problems without knowing background. And I make home visits... sometimes without their knowledge because people lie. You, of all people, should know that."

"Yeah, well, you're supposed to talk with them until they understand their emotions and open up to you, you don't stalk them. Sometimes people aren't aware of the psychological trauma and toxicity families can inflict on one another." Zoe said.

Gideon held up a picture of the Miller family and then of the Crawford family.

Karl nodded and looked pointedly at the first family he had killed, "Eric Miller was a terrible husband and father. Allison Crawford hemorrhaged money her husband didn't have. It can strain any marriage."

"That doesn't mean they had to die." Zoe said, darkly.

Gideon held up a picture of Karl with his wife and his kids, he got a somewhat annoyed look in his sociopathic eyes like, are we really bringing my family up? Isn't the psychology of what I did and its connection to my family close enough.

"On the surface, this looks like any family, USA. Two parent households, two kids, a boy and a girl. If you look a little closer, you'll see their body language tells a different story." Karl seemed to be increasingly annoyed at them pointing out the flaws of his failed marriage, "the woman and children are distant from the man. Their smiles are stiff. Their eyes are frightened. Every hair is in place, wearing their Sunday best, their own private hell being memorialized on film."

"Eric wasn't perfect at being a husband but he grew up with constant abuse from his biological and foster parents. That normalized violence in his subconscious mind and only came out when he was drunk. Sure, it's a shitty thing to do but that's what therapy is for. Not with therapists like you, good ones who didn't murder people because he judged them. He never hurt his kids. He loved his kids and because of you, not only did he grow up with constant abuse and feeling no love but he's forever traumatized with the images of finding his son and his daughter's bloodied bodies. You put him through what you went through but worse. Your children are still alive but you hurt them with your obsessiveness and need for control." Zoe monologued, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"What about your mother? You never had a mother figure."

"I don't hold a family hostage to make up for the mother who died because of someone like you."

He looked at the photos and squirmed uncomfortably but not from what he had done but from what Zoe had done... with the pictures.

"You okay?" Gideon asked.

"It isn't right."

"What isn't?"

"YOU'VE GOT THE PICTURES MIXED UP!" He screamed. "The one in the middle. That is Sam Crawford's. It should be Ty Miller's! You need... to swap them. You need to make it right."

Zoe recalled Clara's OCD and how Karl's matched up with the symptoms just as she previously theorized.

Gideon stood up and pointed to the picture of Sam Crawford's corpse's child-like foot. "This one here?"

"What the hell have I been trying to tell you?" Karl scoffed as if they were the insane ones when he held families hostage, pretending to be their "daddy" to compensate for the marriage he screwed up.

"You're right. They're switched." Gideon admitted with more calmness than Karl. "This is Sam Crawford's foot with the Miller family. But how did you know that, Karl?"

He looked at Zoe who gave him an innocent look. She had switched them, knowing he would have the near uncontrollable urge to correct them. He had confessed to the crime because they had no concrete proof that he had killed the Crawfords and Millers as he was going to do to the Dunkens. So he explained as they recorded him.

"And I watched them for a number of days, always at night. Saw how they lived. How they loved. I would keep them apart... until the last night. Till the last supper. Then I would bring them one by one. Down to the basement." As he spoke J.J. switched the photos on their board, according to the serial killer's confession, "The youngest first." He looked at Zoe, who had been the youngest of her family before it got messed up. "The father last."

"Why, Karl?" Morgan asked.

"So he could see..." His voice broke but not out of remorse but out of hurt of the ending of his family, "What happens to families when the head of the household... isn't strong. Wives wither. Children perish." JJ and Gideon started to pack up the crime evidence. "But me? I'm an excellent father.

"One family member isn't the strongest. There is no Alpha. They're strongest together. Strong where they're weak, Karl. Omegas don't last long alone but as a pack, that's how they're at their strongest." Zoe said.

—————————————————————————————

Hotch had found tapes of more than the two families, not only were there the Miller family, the Crawford family, but also the Ness family and the Linford family, and the Kegan family.

In a rusted box were the trophies...

They all sat at a table that the box laid on and Gideon emptied the box onto the table, revealing eight wedding rings. Six families they weren't aware of. This comes out to thirty-two victims if he kept the same M.O., and half of them were children.

—————————————————————————————

*Sorry, this is super late to my like zero fans of this work but I like this story and Zoe will evolve as a character and so will her relationship with Spencer... very slowly. At first, I was nervous about this chapter, I guess because of the content, this was the first Criminal Minds episode that really affected me because I had watched crime shows before but like, Lucifer, the Flash, etc. When kids were in danger, they always survived in the end but I guess that's one of the things that makes Criminal Minds different. Then I had to email my college because I hadn't been accepted yet and by the time he had accepted me, it was too late to enroll so I took another class at community college and then that class started but then a few weeks in, I was dropped because the financial aid study thing I was taking, general had been recently dropped and I had like no warning about it. Then we decided I'd just do other things for class like online and then the Mothman Festival came up and I had tickets to go see Watcher Ghost Files Live and that was just a few days ago. I've continued writing, I'm almost done with Unfinished Business and then I just forgot I hadn't been posting them. *

#the eccedentiast #david tennant #selena gomez #criminal minds #spencer reid #2005 #valentía #zoe noble-valdez #aaron “hotch” hotchner #derek morgan #Karl Arnold #The Fox #Penelope Garcia #jason gideon #November 2005 #Xiomara Noble-Valdez

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hello-nichya-here · 1 year ago

Note

I know you ship Barney and Robin (I do too), but don't you think Ted has the right to be uncomfortable with the fact that one his best friends slept with his ex (that he clearly still has feelings for) when it hasn't even been that long since they broke up?

As usual, let's break this down by parts.

Ted being uncomfortable with the situation

That one would be totally valid. The fact that his ex is in his friend group could have already led to plenty of drama, and if she starts getting involved with yet another person from the same friend group, things will just get more messy. There's a reason why when they became friends, Lily full on said to both of them "If you sleep with Robin, you have to marry her" because if the relationship doesn't end, then there's no drama.

However, Ted is not uncomfortable. He is ANGRY. Like, downright furious. He stops being friends with Barney, and it takes the dude nearly dying after getting hit by bus that he didn't see in his hurry to see Ted at the hospital and make sure he was okay. THAT is how pissed off he was - and as I'll explain in great detail bellow, he has exactly ZERO right to be.

Barney is one of Ted's best friends

Is he? Is he though? Because I remember Ted saying shit like "I have no idea why I hung out with Barney" just because the guy suggested that they *gasp* went to a different place than the bar they usually went to. Seriously, I'm autistic and hate change, but the way Ted will act like Barney is personally wronging him and being super selfish when he finds legitimatelly cool things for them to do together makes him sound the most boring, ungrateful person EVER.

And let's not forget the constant "Marshall is my best friend, not you." Like, I get that is closer to Marshall than to Barney, but Jesus, he was always SO mean to the guy for no reason. He could have at least said something like "Hey, Marshall is my best friend too" or "Come on, man, just cause Marshall is my best friend doesn't mean you're not important to me." But no, it was always in a rude way that fit way too well with "urgh, why am I even friends with Barney?" Again, it took the guy nearly fucking dying for Ted to say they were not just friends, they were brothers.

To me THE proof that Ted is in the wrong in this whole conflict is that he never cared about any of Barney's shenanigans - yet the series uses the ONE time Barney broke the bro code as justification for Ted ending their friendship. They try to excuse it with "Oh, but Ted never broke the code", but let's face it, the man never even read the freaking code.

He was ALWAYS disregarding Barney, acting like they were barely even friends and like he was just an annoying dude he couldn't get rid of. And then as soon as the guy slips up and is feeling super guilty over it even though he shouldn't, SUDDENLY they're the best of friends and "How could you do this to me?"

He still has feelings for Robin, and their break up wasn't that long ago

If I'm remembering it right, it has been nearly a whole year since their break up. And even then, they've done the whole "post break up tension" thing. Sulking, being jealous (though that one was mostly Ted), hooking up only to realize they really are better off as friends, and finally Ted has gone back to his default state of meeting a new potential "The One", and just a few episodes later he propose to Stella, his girlfriend - because yeah, he has a girlfriend. One he claims to be pretty serious about. One he all but claimed he fell in love with at first sight.

One could EASILY assume he was over Robin by that point - hell, I did the first time I watched the show. And Ted's supposed "feelings" for her are not nearly as cute as the show likes to pretend they were.

Ted's obsession with Robin

This man legit saw her from across the room, and was about to say "Hey dude, see that girl over there? I'm gonna marry her" before Barney, the much more sane of the two, interrupted him with a "You know she likes it dirty" (God bless Barney for figuring that woman out in two damn seconds). He said both "I'm in love with you" and "I love you" on the first damn date. He decided she was the love of his life without knowing a single thing about her, and just never admited that he was wrong, even after they broke up over wanting completely different things in life.

But let's not forget HOW they got together in the first place. Robin turns him down after the "I love you even though I just met you fiasco", so he makes up not one, not two, but three parties just so he can "invite her over as a friend." This goes wrong, obviously, and Robin turns him down again because she just wants something casual. Later, when she changed her mind but he is already with someone, Ted lies to her about having broken up with his girlfriend so they can sleep together. When Robin finds out about it, he blames it on "Nothing good happens after 2 am" and never apologizes for lying to her, yet the show makes her forgive him for it anyways.

He then tries to go after her AGAIN, and when she tells him to slow down and, ya know, actually date before they do the whole "Romantic vacation where we promise to spend the rest of our lives together", he says that she's "too scared of anything real" because apparently no romance is real unless the people involved are ready to get married immediately. He then tries, rather pathetically, to make it rain so she won't go on a trip with a guy that is into her, and once it does rain they finally get together. The show claims that's romantic, but I'm once siding with the actual sane man of this story, Barney: This is funny. And it's still funny. And it's still funny... aaaand now is just sad.

Ted is not in love, he obsessed. That's why he is mad that Barney and Robin slept together - and why he is only mad at Barney, but not at her. He thinks Robin is his. He thought so both before and after their relationship, and he doesn't like it when anyone shatters this illusion. And the show validating that, making both Barney and Robin almost/full on "confessing" what they did even though by this point I'm wondering WHY either of them still puts up with Ted, just makes this look worse in my eyes.

Everytime I think of this plot, I think: Fuck off, Ted! You're just mad Robin didn't have to pretend that knee-rubbing was a super hot part of sex, or cover his face to pretend she was fucking someone else like she did with you! (I am not even kidding, this legit happened - good for Robin for finally getting a guy that knows what he's doing and that she's actually attracted to)

The "Barney is a bad person" excuse

The show REALLY wanted us to side with Ted on this one, didn't they? Well, too bad, because they gave us plenty of reason not to.

Barney has done some awful shit, but I do NOT buy that this was just the last straw for Ted instead of a result of him being possessive over a woman that could not be less interested in him.

Ted is very quick to talk shit about Barney when he does something awful. He is even faster however, to either join him on the fun at the expense of others, or even leaving Barney out-matched.

This is Ted Mosby we're talking about, people. The guy who didn't know the difference between getting to know a woman and stalking her. The guy that thinks harrassing a girl until she agrees to date you is romantic. The guy who said to Victoria that they should try long distance dating, only to start ghosting her, and then nearly sleep with someone else the first time she isn't able to return his calls - and again, the girl he almost slept with thought he was single because he lied to her face.

The guy who taught his children "That's how you turn a no into a yes." The bastard that broke up with a girl on her birthday through an answering machine, went after her years later, convinced her to take him back, and then a month later dumped her on her birthday a second time. The creepy dude that was waiting to make his move the second a girl he deemed "perfect" and "the one who got away" was single again - going as far as to have her neighbours spying on her for him. The guy who thought the perfect way to fix the issue of his bride not wanting his ex at their wedding because "exes around makes old feelings ressurface" was to bring her ex along, and could not fucking understand that this will just make her even more uncomfortable.

The dude who tried (and sometimes succeeded) in trying to win over women that were married/about to be married not once, not twice, but FIVE FUCKING TIMES! And in two of these times, the innocent groom/husband thought of him as a friend, only to be stabbed in the back so horribly.

THIS Ted Mosby is throwing a fit because Barney slept with his ex one time and felt super guilty. This asshole thinks he has the moral highground here. The dude that would have the nerve to say "Robin shouldn't be with Barney, she should be with me" and even declare his undying love for her on the morning of her wedding to Barney even after he has given their relationship his blessing and claimed to be over her about 50 times. If Barney had done this, show would have treated him like the fucking antichrist.

And let's not forget Ted EXPLICIT justification as to why this "terrible" action was the final straw: because this one affected him personally instead of happening to a stranger. I am not even kidding, he full on said that. Dude, if you legit think this guy is an awful person, and you have zero problem with it as long he is nice to you, you DESERVE to have him screw you over (just like he deserved to have Stella leave him at the alter after he was stupid enough to think inviting her ex to their wedding was just the perfect idea).

Conclusion

We are supposed to side with Ted, even though he is worse than Barney, a hypocrite, would not do more than give him a slap on the wrist if he had slept with someone else's ex, AND what Barney did wasn't even that serious. Even though he is a creepy stalker that cannot wrap his head around the fact that Robin is not his property, and is taking this whole thing as Barney "stealing what's his." Even though he will do WAY worse to his supposed friend years later, without a shred of remorse, still be talked about as the good guy, AND the show will screw Barney and Robin (and the Mother) over just so he can get what he wants in the end.

Sorry, but it's not gonna happen. This is not the rare "Ted has a point" moment, like when he called Lily a bitch. This is another case of him being entitled, possessive, and hypocritical - and yet more reason for me to look at that goddamn finale and think "I can't wait until Robin inevitably has an affair with Barney and then marries him again so Ted finally faces some much deserved karma"

#asks #anti ted mosby #fuck ted mosby #anti ted x robin #swarkles #robin deserved better #barney deserved better

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hopefulromances · 1 year ago

Note

maybe prompt 43 “You always come here when you’re upset.” with jamie? like him and reader have known each other for a long time and she follows him throughout his career and he goes to one of their favorite places maybe either after jamie has his encounter with his dad or something that happened to the reader and she goes that somewhere instead? (and my pronouns are she/her) also i love your writing so much it’s amazing

Thank you so much <3. I think I know what you're asking for! I hope you enjoy!

Also I cannot stop myself from putting Taylor Swift references into everything I write I'm sorry.

43. “You always come here when you’re upset.”

You kicked the grass in the open field, aluminated by the tall stadium lights in the corners of the field. It'd been a while and you weren't sure if Jamie would show up. It had been a few years since you'd seem him last.

You grew up in Manchester, just down the street from Jamie's house. You'd been there for him everytime his parent's fought or his dad came home drunk. At one point, you'd even convinced him that his house was haunted, and that was why his dad was always mad. The two of you would hide in the closet and pretend to fly away to India or some other country that seemed so far away when you were young.

As you grew up, you remained close and soon found a place outside of the house to run to when something happened. An old abandoned pitch just a few miles from town. It hadn't been used in at least a decade but the lights still turned on every night for the ghosts of football games that came to life under the stars.

But Jamie was different recently. He had been since he'd been picked up at Manchester City. He'd gotten arrogant and rude. He was acting just like his father. And you'd told him as such two years ago. That was the last time he'd talked to you. But you'd read the news. He was being sent back to Manchester from Richmond, where he'd been playing on loan for a while.

Ted Lasso. Who knew someone so different could make such an impact on a team. But he was the first person to bench Jamie since... well maybe ever. Something had to have shifted in him. But being sent back to Manchester. Back to his father. It had to have hurt him. If your intution was right, and you hoped it was, he would make his way back here tonight.

It was getting late, and you were chilly. You were about to give up when you saw the headlights you'd been waiting for all night. Jamie got out of the car and leaned against it.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" He grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

You shrugged, approaching him slowly. "You always come here when you're upset"

He scoffed at you. "You think you know me?"

"I think I do," You shot back. "I think you're afraid to go back to Manchester. Cause your dad is going to be sitting there waiting for you."

He snapped his head over towards you. He was angry. Angry at you, angry at his dad, angry at the world.

"Oh, fuck off," he spat, pushing himself off the car and turning on you. "I'm pissed off, cause I played Lasso's stupid game, burnt my mum's boots, and actually felt like I was making a difference at Richmond and what the fuck did it do?" I didn't really know what he was talking about but I didn't care, at least he was talking. "It did fuck all. He still sent me away. Just like everyone else in my life."

You let the statement hang in the air for a second. Waiting to see if he would continue or say anything else.

"I didn't send you away," you said quietly. "You left me... if you'll remember."

"Yeah, fucked that up too, didn't I?" he muttered.

Against your own will, you felt your feet moving you forward, lurching in Jamie's direction. When you reached him, you took his face in your hands.

"You didn't fuck that up? Okay," You shook his head gently, making your point. "You didn't fuck that up. I'm here, Jamie." He grabbed onto you, wrapping himself around you tightly. "You didn't fuck that up." You kept repeating that, over and over, as he held onto you like a lifeline. "I'm here, Jamie... I'm here."

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt fanfiction #drabble night #drabble

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elileram · 11 months ago

Note

Henlo:3

Maybe a blind date with schlatt and it’s about how you two met and how your relationship started

Hello Anon! :D

Ooooo this is such a good idea :0 Maybe they were both setup by Ted or someone else? hehe

✰*☾ It was about Two or Three years ago, the setting was quite the Fancy Restaurant. A loud sigh could be heard from a man, sitting at a Table of two by himself. "When will she be here?" He groaned to himself. He watched the front door of the Restaurant for minutes, as he looked at his watch it was 9:16... She was 6 minutes late, which wasn't bad but made Schlatt worry that she was a No Show, until he watched a Dashing girl enter the place, wearing a Shirt, long skirt, and a cardigan over the Shirt. Her Hair softly resting on her Shoulders.

✰*☾ As Schlatt noticed her walking over there, he knew it was his Date, his heart skipped a beat for a moment, 'Damn Ted really set me up with a beautiful girl..' Schlatt thought as she sat down, "Wow your Stunning.." Schlatt mumbled to himself, Y/n quickly looked at Schlatt then said cheerfully "Thank you!" Schlatts face turned red as he realized he said that out loud. "I'm Y/n, and I guess you're Schlatt?" Schlatt stayed silent for a moment before realizing she was talking to him, "O-Oh yeah I am him! and might I say Y/n you truly are Beautiful" Y/n's face went to a soft pink "Well thank you" her eyes fluttering abit.

✰*☾ As a waiter walked over they ordered there drinks, "So what are you interested in?" Y/n spoke softly, as her round eyes stared into Schlatts. "Well I like Gaming.. n'Stuff" Schlatt said a tad bit embarrassed before looking up at Y/n's Shocked face. "No way me too!" Y/n said excitedly as she looked at Schlatt "Really?" Schlatt said shocked, Y/n nodded fast out of excitement. As the waiter brought them their drinks, about a hour past, they ordered there food and talked and bonded more.

✰*☾ As the clock began to reach 11:00Pm Schlatt noticed how late it was getting so he then payed the bill as he saw Y/n walking away he then spoke, "Hey you don't have a ride?" looking at Y/n blankly, "No.. I sorta walked here I don't really have a car", maybe that was why she was late, Schlatt looked at her for a moment before softly speaking, "I mean if you want we can go to my house and you can stay there for the night instead of walking back to yours" Schlatt offered. Y/n's face lit up "Really?" She spoke, Schlatt nodding. 11:17, They were both getting ready for bed, he let Y/n borrow one of his Sweaters and shorts, as they both layed down, Y/n used Schlatts chest as a pillow, making Schlatts face turning a bright red. He planted a soft kiss on top of her forehead before they both fell asleep.

EEEEEEEE I had such fun writing this!! :D

#writing #fluff #jschlatt #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #writing requests #Blind Date #Schlatt x y/n #Schlatt x Reader #Schlatt x You

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yourlastbraincell-kiwi · 7 months ago

Text

A/N: This a Bill and Ted story I wrote a couple years ago. I changed up some of the words and everything, and thought it would be good to post it. Enjoy!

The story starts off in the third-person, but switches to the readers pov for the rest!

This also has mention of the events of 2020/2021, if that is something you don’t wish to read about please skip over this one.

Pairing: Ted “Theodore” Logan x Black!Fem!Reader

——————🫶🏽——————

"Ooo, what about here?" Ted picked up the book that said Circuits Of Time and went to the very back of the book and read a number, and pushed the buttons on the dial.

"Ooh, nope. Nope," Rufus said, moving Ted away from the buttons. "Do not. And I repeat, do not push those buttons." Rufus said hanging up the phone.

"But I just wanted to go to the year 2020, we've never heard of it before." Ted said.

"Yeah, why can't we go there?" Bill asked.

"It's best, if you don't know, what happened in that year." Rufus said putting the book down.

Ted looked at him, confused before smiling and taking the book back into his hands. "What about this one?" Ted said reaching for the buttons, that was supposed to take them to 2021. "I’m sorry, did you not hear what I said?”

"I did, but I don’t remember what you said.” Ted responded and Rufus sighed and put his hand on his head. “So… Can I press it?" Ted said reaching for the last button, with Bill looking over Ted's shoulder as equally intrigued as him.

"Of course not! You're here to learn about subjects, that do with your history report." The both of them looked at Rufus trying to make puppy dog eyes, trying to convince him.

"Look, I don't know what those faces were, but they were not convincing. Now let's go to-"

"Come on, please Rufus!"

"Yeah, come on!" The both of them begged and pleaded.

"Fine! But do NOT, mess up that timeline." They both did an air guitar and Rufus pushed the last button and they began to travel to the year 2021.

—————

"Hey, have you seen my phone? I've been looking since yesterday." I said asking my friend, Tiffany, as she painted her toe nails.

"No, maybe you left it at that dudes house." She said with a smirk.

"Oh, please. I distinctly remember, putting it in my- Oh! Here it is!" I said with a sigh of relief, one because I didn't have to go to school without it, and two, having to call 'him' up, to see if he had it.

"Saved by the bell this time, I guess." She said blowing on her toe nails, to dry them faster.

"Most definitely." I said grabbing my stuff, before walking outside. And then something that looked like an off-brand TARDIS, popped up in front of me. I was going to scream, until three guys walked out. One older than the other two, and the two looked real young.

"Woah.." Said the both of the younger ones. "This is totally bodacious." Said the shorter one.

"Hey, do you know when the Mongols ruled China?"

"1297? I'm pretty sure."

"Woah… Thanks, dude!"

"Wait, what was that, that just happened?" I asked as the older guy, named Rufus, explained to me everything. I was still trying to wrap my head around this, but I just went along with it.

"So what are you guys doing here then?"

"They wanted to know what 2021, was like."

"Hey, can you tell us what happened in 2020?" One of them had asked and I avoided, both the of their eyes. "Or not?" Ted said.

"I apologize on their behalf, what's your name?" Asked Rufus.

"(Y/N)." I replied plainly, still trying to process all of this.

"Nice to meet you, as you already know, I'm Rufus, and this is Bill," He said pointing to the shorter guy. "And this is Ted." He finished motioning towards the taller guy.

"Hi!" They said in-sync.

"Hi." I said admiring Ted, and his facial features.

"(Y/N)! Your forgot your...who are they?" Tiffany said trailing off as she handed me something.

"Bill, Ted. This is my roommate and best friend Tiffany. Tiffany, this is Bill and Ted, and that's Rufus, over there." I pointed and introduced them, as she admired Bill.

"Look, I'd really like to stay and chat, but I've gotta- SHIT! I'm late!" I said rushing to get into my car. "Tiff!" She didn't respond, still ogling Bill.

"TIFF!"

"Huh?" She said turning towards me.

"Keep them here! I'll be back in a couple hours! Bye!" I said driving off to class.

—————

"Now, that we've established what is happening, the question is WHY, it's happening now can anyone-" I barged into the room, disrupting the lecture.

"Look, who it is." I heard one of the girls, in the mid-row say. I rolled my eyes and quietly walked past.

"Miss. (Y/L/N). See me after class." I sighed nodding and walked over to my preferred seat in the back, as the lecture continued.

A couple minutes into the lecture, I took out my phone out of pure boredom. Making sure it was on silent and the brightness was down.

"Miss. (Y/L/N)!" I looked up immediately, and people started to laugh. "Can you answer the question for us, please?"

I looked around as someone tried to mouth the answer to me, I looked at them like 'I can't understand you.'

"Miss. (Y/L/N). Do you have an answer?"

"No, sir." I said looking down.

"Well then maybe you should start paying attention to the lesson, and not your phone, if you will." I nod. "This is college, not high school." I nod, putting my phone away and he resumed the lesson.

————

Ding!

I looked towards the direction of my phone and tried to cover it up, but there it is again.

Ding! Ding!

Practically everyone was looking at me now. And I knew my teacher was on his last straw. I took it out and tried to see why it was dinging and my eyes widened.

'It's not on vibrate. I switched it off of vibrate..' I mentally wanted to slap my self across the face, as my teacher gave me the look he's given previous students in the past for disrupting his class.

He didn't even have to say a word and I just got up and gave him my phone. No words needed. This caused some of the girls laughed and pointed at me. As I sat down, someone barged into the room, that person being Ted.

'Ted?! What on earth?'

I packed my things and grabbing my stuff and running towards him. "Where are you going, class hasn't been dismissed yet?!"

"Sorry, but I gotta go!" I exclaimed grabbing my phone from his desk, on the way out.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Bill and Riff-"

"Tiff."

"-her. They’re doing they're own thing and Rufus left, so I thought I'd look for you." He said, scratching the side of his head. I smiled and walked over to my car.

"Well, that was nice of you to do. And I needed the break from school anyway." I said putting my stuff in the the car, before getting in. Ted just stood there, not knowing what to do. "Come on!" I said, and he instantly had that wide grin on his face and got in.

I started to drive off. "Where are we going?" He said, and I felt my smile grow wide. "I'm going to take you to best places, in the city!"

"Excellent!" He exclaimed, doing an air guitar, and I drove off.

#x reader #wattpad #fluff #black!reader #black!fem!reader #black!writer #fluffed up #all inclusive #cute imagine #bill and ted's excellent adventure x reader #ted theodore logan #ted logan x reader #ted logan

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spider-mancan · 2 years ago

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beta testing

Peter presented as an alpha when he was seventeen. Tony had whisked him and his aunt away to a trip to Maldives as soon as Peter's rut was over, to celebrate. Presentation was like turning twenty-one; Peter had tried to convince his aunt to let him drink a little, but he was still one-year off from the drinking age on the islands.

That was two years ago. Since then, Tony has managed to destroy his life in most ways, save the universe, rebuild his life from scratch, move to Malibu, and move back to New York. He won't pretend Peter calling him from his old lab with tears in his eyes on Christmas hadn't been a reason to return to the city.

Peter and Tony are closer than ever. Peter underestimates the strides he's made for science just by giving Tony someone to bounce off of that isn't a metal arm in a dunce cap. On his own merit, Peter is busy revolutionizing the textile industry. His webbing formula is extremely flexible, pun intended, and he's been working on a variant that could be used instead of Kevlar. Tony has the patent paperwork ready whenever Peter says the word.

MJ and May are both alphas, and Peter's friend Ted is an omega. Tony remembers the first time Peter came to the lab with scent strain -- super senses suddenly surrounded by pheromones? Recipe for disaster. "I'll be okay, Mr. Stark," Peter had said, even though his face was green. "I just, you know, need to get used to it, like before."

Tony is just a beta, much to his father's chagrin. He'd held out a hand and said, "come here, kid," with his wrist pointed upward, bare. Neutral. Just sweat and oil and cologne and whatever personal smell lies dormant on most beta's skin.

It had been the right move; Tony knew that as soon as he saw Peter's shoulders sag with relief. Peter surged forward like Tony was offering him water in the desert. Instead of scenting Tony's wrist, Peter had wrapped his fingers around Tony's wrist and used the hold to pull Tony up and out of his seat, a little closer. Buried his nose in Tony's neck, where the tie was loosened and the button of his dress shirt popped. Breathed.

Tony had let him, mostly out of shock.

But then Peter said, breathlessly, "thank you, Mr. Stark," and Tony said, predictably, "anytime, kid."

For some time just after his presentation, Peter would set his bag down and pet DUM-E on the head and pull Tony in close to clear his nose of the smog of the city and Tony thought, yeah, this is normal. It was normal because they both made it normal. If there's one thing Tony learned in his life, it's that it's only weird if you make it weird. Peter needed a palette cleanser made sense, and Tony would give Peter the whole world. What's a little scenting between friends?

The rest of Tony's friends had some things to say about it. "Watch yourself, Tones," Rhodey would tell him on the odd nights he had free to sit and watch a game and try to keep Tony from self-destructing. "You're great at managing a crisis but you've never been great at seeing them coming."

Tony wasn't worried about it. At his worst, Peter Parker was still one of the best people Tony had ever met.

This strange new tradition continued long after Peter got a handle of the rest of his new heightened senses (again) but what was Tony supposed to do when the few times Tony didn't immediately offer his hand Peter's eyes got wide and sad? What is Tony supposed to do? He's just a man.

The scenting also seems to remove whatever barrier was left between them. Peter took the opportunity to shift himself from mentee to friend as best he could, considering he was nearly thirty years Tony's junior. Tony has always been a tactile person; now, Peter felt confident returning small gestures. A clap on the shoulder, a on the hand on the hip, a tug on the sleeve. There aren't many people around who can sate Tony's need for physical connection -- there aren't many people around at all -- and if Peter needs the same thing, it works out for the best.

The touching bleeds out of the lab without Tony noticing. Peter started coming over outside of his lab days with a movie or a craving for a restaurant and Tony loves indulgence. He loves indulgence even more when they're someone else's. He took Peter to Thailand for a weekend, spent another with Peter's feet in his lap while they watched Star Trek from the pilot. He started booking larger hotel rooms when he had to travel for work and invited Peter every time. Peter never said no, but eventually Tony stopped booking the rooms with two beds.

That's another large difference, but this one Tony notices; Peter starts sharing his bed.

In an innocent way, of course. The first time they were in England and the heating was terrible and it was freezing. Peter never dealt well with the cold to begin with, and he'd looked so shy asking to sleep next to Tony. He'd smelled nearly panicked, so much so that even Tony could tell, but Tony didn't need to be an alpha or omega to tell how relieved Peter was when Tony simply rolled over and held the sheets up for Peter to crawl inside.

After all this time, Tony has finally realized that if he gives Peter an inch, Peter will take a mile.

It started in hotels, but Peter has effectively moved into the Tower since then. Even though he has his own room, decked out in everything a nerdy college student could possibly want, the bed goes mostly unused. It started with Peter bodily carrying Tony to bed when he went on a work bender and staying so Tony wouldn't sneak back to the workshop. It started with Peter knocking on Tony's door, shaking with remnant nightmares, and letting Tony pet his hair until they both fell asleep. It started with...well. Tony isn't sure when it started.

"He's already living there, isn't he?" May asked, when Tony asked permission for Peter to officially move in. "What's the difference?"

"Well, I know I'm not family--"

"--Thank god." May rolled her eyes. "I trust him with you. Why wouldn't I? It's not like you're a prowling omega in the shadows or anything."

Tony is just a beta. Alphas don't really need betas -- not the way Tony needs Peter.

It's been two years since that weekend in Maldives. Tony knows because FRIDAY had sent some of the photographs to his tablet, and with that comes the question of why Peter is in his bed and why has no one mentioned to Tony that he's in too deep?

(People have. Rhodey, for one, and then Happy, and also May Parker, albeit Tony had been uncomfortable so he hadn't really been paying attention.)

Right now, it's Pepper in the doorway, dressed tidily and sighing heavily when she opens Tony's bedroom door. She thinks Tony has bedded another pair of hot legs in heels, but Tony sees her eyes widen the moment she realizes it's Peter.

Peter is clinging to Tony, his face buried in Tony's neck, dead to the world. Despite the danger sense, Peter sleeps like the dead unless something tells him he shouldn't. Right now, Tony feels the heat of his breath against his bare skin.

"Oh, Tony," Pepper says, shaking her head. "You don't have to hide anything, you know."

"I'm not." Tony is awkwardly propped up on his pillows, the tablet settling now on Peter's back. "There's nothing going on."

"Sure." Pepper turns on her heels, flicking her ponytail over her shoulder. "Paperwork will be on the island. Tell Peter to call more often. Try not to do anything you would normally do."

"I'm just a beta!" Tony argues at her back, a loud hiss, but Peter lightly pulls out of sleep anyway. Tony stays still until Peter settles back down, the pads of Peter's fingers pressing into the dips of Tony's collarbone. "I'm just a beta."

Peter has talked about omegas almost non-stop since he went to college, mostly the pretty and talented Gwen Stacy or the pretentious Harry Osborn. For once, Tony wishes he were an omega so he could tell whether Peter was spending time with them, with anyone else. An alpha, of course, would also be able to tell, but...

Tony clears his throat.

"Good morning," Peter says, not long later. His lips press into Tony's neck like a kiss. He smells like sleep, his bare chest warm against the rucked-up tank top Tony usually wears to bed. He yawns. "Whu' time issit?"

"Late." Tony bonks Peter on the head with his tablet -- he's managed to close out two projects in the interim -- and Peter rolls onto his back with a groan. It's suddenly much colder. "Pepper wants you to call her more."

Peter freezes. "Was she here?"

"For a minute." Free of his leech, Tony throws his feet over the side of his bed and stretches, all the bones of his spine popping back into place.

"Was she..."

Tony looks at Peter over his shoulder with a questioning eyebrow.

"Was she surprised I was here?" Peter asks finally.

"No." Tony frowns. "Well, a little. You know how she is."

"That's a non-answer."

"Does it matter?"

"Did she say anything bad?"

"About you, kid?" Tony laughs, rolling his head on his neck. "Never."

When Tony goes to stand up from the bed, he feels a slight tug on the back of his shirt. Peter is leaning over, Tony's shirt in one hand, his gaze down on the covers. "Mr. Stark, I...uh."

"You can call me Tony, you know," Tony says, for the millionth time. "We've been over this."

Peter frowns, and when he looks up at Tony he's chewing his lip to shreds. "Tony..." A thick swallow. "My, uh, my rut..."

Tony jolts. "It started!?"

"No!" Peter's eyes widen, and he lets go of Tony to shake his hands frantically, no, no, no. "It's soon. Uh, maybe in two weeks or so."

Very soon. "Does your aunt know?" Ruts only happen once a year unless they're triggered by a heat, and the last one Peter spent at May's. Tony had missed him terribly. "Should we get stuff moving?"

"I was, uh..." Peter runs a hand through his hair. "She's out of town! This...uh, this whole month. I was thinking about just, you know, spending it here."

Tony frowns. "Wouldn't it be better if she was gone?"

Peter pales. "No," he says. "I will not elaborate. And uh, can I have it here?"

Tony pauses. There's no...there's no reason Peter can't have it here. Tony can't smell the rut scent, and there's plenty of room. Peter's guest room is still there, although most of his clothes and personal items are strewn about Tony's room. But Tony can hear just as well as anyone else, and the idea of Peter going through a rut only a few rooms away is...

Peter is already rambling. "My ruts really aren't that bad, you know? Because of the spider bite, like. You'd think it'd be worse because everything is, just, more but I don't know. It's like I'm so used to being overwhelmed and controlling myself, it's really not bad? And it's even better when I have a, um, a partner."

"A partner?" Tony balks. "You want...a partner? For your rut?"

"Uh." Peter blushes, pressing his lips together. "Yeah."

Tony sits on the thought and finds it rather sour. He licks his lips, wipes a hand down his mouth and chin, thinking. "Do you want me to leave, then?" Leave Peter here, to be taken care of by some omega. Someone else, when it's Tony's job to take care of Peter. Not that...god.

Tony is so fucked up.

Peter makes a small, confused sound. "No--no. You don't have to leave. That's not--"

"I don't know if bringing a stranger in here is the best idea," Tony says, standing up. The first thing he does is take off his reading glasses. The second thing he does is put on his watch. Both of these things are written into muscle memory, and he can do them without seeming bothered. "But let's stick a pin in this. I need coffee, pronto."

"Yeah." Peter deflates. "Yeah, we can talk about it later."

Sure.

Tony is halfway through making a pot of coffee when he comes to two separate, terrible conclusions.

He would 100% help Peter with his rut if he could. and

He can't.

Tony is just a beta.

By the time Peter gets out of bed, Tony is long gone and the pot of coffee is done brewing.

Unknown to Tony, Peter grumbles, pours himself a cup of coffee, and plots how to get Tony in his bed -- biblically -- within the next two weeks.

#omegaverse #starker #ironspider #drabble #i might make a little drabble collection on ao3 so if i ever wanna come back to these i can #i was gonna write the full conclusion but then it got long #everyone makes fun of me because i can't write short things TT

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