#if ted agreed with it or believed what he had to say

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

(via @medecineformelancholy ) Wrong time to open tumblr I already cried too much today - but I was thinking about just that. Specifically Trent finding something he cares about (he obviously cared about the club and sport as a whole, but that was intertwined with the less appealing and sometimes cruel aspects of journalism) - and pouring his whole heart into it - for Ted to act like none of that mattered (obviously not Ted’s fault, and that could be fixed so easily if they talked after/if Ted only realised) I also have feels about Trent being a pretty pessimistic/melancholic person (with regards to himself anyways), and the total football scene and him being so excited and believing in something for once, knowing it will all work out (both figuring out the book’s narrative, but also seeing a hopeful future for the club, for Ted). And then it all crashing with Ted treating himself like he doesn’t matter. Help😭 Oh also - SORRY - but something that’s always on my mind and I can’t write to save life so here. Trent has spent all his life growing this hard shell to protect himself, and then it must have been so hard to open up. So I have this image of Trent being hurt by the laugh police, and then even more by Ted asking to change the title, and then him coming home with the manuscript and thinking “I want it back” (with regards to his hard shell - whatever he did to make it through life before) But he’s unable to get it back. It’s going to hurt - he let himself be vulnerable and it led to this. (I’m so sorry😭 both for flooding your comment and the angst)

do not apologize. i am weeping

YES. YES LIKE. something about trent finally finding something to care about and pour his passion into and feel safe with and then have the very person who gave him that, who trent respects and deeply wants to like his work (like him) just. reject it. obviously, not ted’s fault, etc etc there’s stuff going on with him, but fuck. trent genuinely getting his hopes up in a way he never does (bc god yeah pessimistic and melancholic is a good way to put it) and then ted, completely unintentionally, knocking his feet out from under him. even if from ted’s perspective it’s self-deprecation wrapped up in folksy wisdom, for trent, a huge part of his point, his message, was that ted did this. “the lasso way”. and for ted to dismiss is own role as unimportant he’s also dismissing trent’s hope and a huge part of the point of his book.

and YEAH. YEAH. IM. trent building up walls and then finally, finally taking them down, letting them in, opening up, and especially with ted, finding a community, yes, but also a person, who makes him feel safe, lets him feel like he can be himself and open up, and then. then the laugh police scene. and then just. that hurting, the idea that maybe he’s been annoying ted this whole time, maybe he really shouldn’t be opening up and being ‘himself’, maybe ‘himself’ is obnoxious, and then getting that note and just. it hurting even more. both for ted (does he really believe that? that it wasn’t about him at all? is it even trent’s place to try and convince him otherwise, especially in light of this?) and for himself (he’d wanted so badly to be liked—not just his work, although that was true, he’d wanted ted to like it so badly, but himself, wanted ted to like him to a degree that was embarrassing, that felt pathetic now, and now it felt like he’d achieved neither. he can’t even keep up a smile at the little mustached doodle ted left, because all he can think is he failed. that it hurts.) and he just—he wishes, at least part of him, he could go back to before. not that he’d never met ted, but that he could still have those walls up, that he could just. not be hurt. if he’s going to feel lonely and rejected anyway, then maybe he was right all along, to stay alone. to let people hate him. because this is worse than being hated for his aloof, standoffish persona. this hurts so much more

but he can’t go back. there’s nothing he can do. he let himself be vulnerable, and now this. the hurt won’t go away. and it just—it feels like a mistake. he’d thought he’d finally gotten it right, but maybe he’d never gotten it right at all

and he has a community now, support, but. maybe he begins to pull away, to withdraw. the opposite of what ted had intended. not because he doesn't believe in that community, but because if he was wrong about ted, or about himself, then how can he trust this? what if he's annoying them, too? what if he doesn't belong here at all?

of course it's another story if they'll let him pull back too much and even more of another story if ted will stay away, but.

hey consider. trent's book essentially being about what ted's done and the effect he's had on all these lives and on the team and yes, it's his philosophy, but it's also him, so persistent and kind and sincere and brave, because maybe anyone could have done it but no one ever did, no one ever has, and even if trent doesn't directly say it in the book about how ted's changed his life, changed him, and how ted--not just his ideas, but ted--changed lives and changed nelson road for the better. and even if those ideas can persist after he's gone, even if it's a seed that once planted can flourish on its own, ted still planted the seed. and then the only feedback ted leaves him is that it's good, but it was never about him. it's good, but he disagrees with a fundamental pillar of the thesis. it's good, but trent's wrong. and trent, who wants him to like it, who cares about his opinion, who wants ted to like him and wants ted to like what trent has to say about him and what trent's written about him, trent who had said they could offer criticism so trent could tell them how they were wrong... takes the criticism. changes the title. out of respect or just because ted asked, and trent's helpless to refuse him. for ted. ted reads the book trent desperately wants him to like, that trent's spent all season writing, that trent's poured his soul into, and casually tells him he disagrees with a huge part of it. and trent takes it to heart.

[m00neroni]

@wolfstarmicrofic || 2nd Dec || Father Christmas || 626 words

"Da! Come on!" Hurry up! Teddy shouts, tugging his father's hand so they can reach Father Christmas' stand faster. If they don't move quickly, the other children will ask for the best presents before he has the opportunity to do so.

And that simply can't be!

He is a man on a mission!

"Teds! Slow down!" Da protests, but Teddy ignores him, because he can already see Santa's House and there is no queue!

Without listening to the adult's complaints, the child frees himself and sprints as fast as he can, stopping right at the entrance and looking up so he can greet the elf.

"Hi!" Teddy pants as he tries to catch his breath. His cheeks are too warm and he is sweating under his jumper, but he doesn't care. "I'm here to see Father Christmas!"

"Of course you are, sweetheart." The pretty elf chuckles and extends her hand so he can hold it. She has bright red hair under her green hat and looks around his Da's age, even if he knows she is magic and probably way way way older. Her smile is very pretty too. "You're very lucky. Father Christmas was about to take a very long break, but he's gonna make time just to see you!"

"Excellent!"

It's not ideal, because he would've liked to be the first one who spoke with him, but having Santa's undivided attention sounds good too!

Teddy grins excitedly as he approaches him, and wow, who knew Father Christmas was so amazingly cool! Because he has tattoos! Teddy can see them under the big white beard, right on his neck. And he is so tall! More than his da! And that's a lot! Oh, Vic is not gonna believe him when he tells her how cool Father Christmas is!

"Hello, little man!" Santa greets him as Teddy sits on his lap, feeling really excited. The man's voice is low and strong and it would scare Teddy if it wasn't because he is smiling broadly at him. "What's your name?"

"Edward Remus Tonks Delacour Lupin!" He announces, solemnly. "But you can call me Teddy!"

Father Christmas laughs loudly at that, almost like a barking sound, which makes Teddy's smile broaden even more. "That's a very amazing name, Mr Teddy."

"Thank yous!"

"Alright, you're my very special guest today. What can I do for you?" Father Christmas finally asks the most important question. It's his moment!

"This year I just want one present! Because it's very very big and Mami says I can't ask for many big things even if your elves can do it because if I do it other children won't get their presents!"

"Yes, Mami is definitely right." Santa nods, and Teddy notices he likes to smile a lot, like his da, because he also has those lines around his grey eyes. It is so cool! "So, tell me, what do you want?"

"A second dad!" The child announces very loud. "Mami and Mum are already together and Da is very very very lonely. He just reads and reads and reads, and watches films with that red drink Teddy can't have because it's for grown-ups! But Mami and Mum are very happy together, so I think I should get another dad so Da doesn't feel lonely and sad."

"Oh…"

"Look! That's him!" Teddy cuts him, pointing at where Da is waiting for him with that expression he also wears when he is constipated and his tummy hurts. His ears are very red and they can even see it from here. "I think another daddy would make him super super happy, don't you agree?"

"Well," Santa replies, tilting his head to one side as he looks at his Da. "Maybe I can do something about it."

(When I finished writing it, I've realised I had been very inspired and influenced by Teddy in @languagelessonswolfstar's latest fic, so credits where they are due! and please, go and read it!)

[somewhereincairparavel]

Dam being a Jason Grace stan in the fandom is a fucking tragedy lol. Not only do we have to deal with him being screwed over by uncle Rick, but we have to deal with the fandom hating him aswell lol, i feel like Jason Grace slander wouldnt affect me half as much if his character had gotten a happy ending. I just saw an Instagram reel about a "character's povs you skipped through'' and the comments were flooded with Jason Grace just like I'd expected lol 😭 like blud has no mercy there.

It took all my will power to not defend him under a comment that called him "homophobic", I cannot believe that comment had 4 people agreeing aswell like- did we read the same books? Did they completey skip over the coming out chapter in HOH where jason was literally the first person to tell Nico not to be ashamed of liking guys and that no one would judge him? the guy is legit one of the least problematic characters and does nothing mean, how is he even CONSIDERED in the homophobic area anyway? (he also gets slandered for being "too nice" aswell lol) so seeing him wind up in such a contradictory accusation just screams tone deaf and anti-jason bias tbh, Nico legit said he considered jason as one of his first friend/supporter (apart from his sisters) in TSATS :') its like ppl keep throwing in these false stuff bc they WANT to find a reason to hate him. (dont take this as me saying you are not allowed to hate him or something cuz that would be quite hypocritical of me, wouldnt it? i just hate that ppl make up problematic hcs of him and push them as canon, it would taint non-reader's perception of him because of false info, what if a non reader stumbled across that comment and immediately figured that jason was indeed homophobic even when he wasn't?)

Also, can we please normalize NOT judging a person for their character preferences? I like jason and i am aware that its an unpopular take, but that doesnt make me any less of a pjo fan. The fandom seems pretty aggressive when we dont follow the popular opinion. i have seen multiple ppl pretend to hate jason simply bc they WANT to fit in and "look cool", since the fandom has a tendency to use Jason as a punching bag to insult like "he's a knockoff percy" or "he thinks he's so cool but he's not". or smth, so when people do claim jason as a favourite, a huge chunk of the fandom start belittling them and go like "really? Out of all characters, why jason?" Or "Percy/Leo is better, I don't understand why you like Jason"

okay thanks for coming to my ted talk. i am aware that i was yapping here. unfair Jason Grace slander does that to me.

[batboyblog]

https://x.com/magi_jay/status/1812914966560973238?s=46&t=9ilK5pqP73XDblTtTbb4Qg

This post motivated me to try something different: namely, name a good quality about the Democratic Party and its candidate.

Biden’s most admirable qualities are his general wisdom and steadfastness in the face of great challenges. While I might not always agree with EVERY choice he’s made for a number of reasons, I do think he’s shown that he’s much smarter than people give him credit for.

Furthermore, he’s very firm without being either too standoffish or trying too hard. One of the things I hated about his predecessor (I refuse to name him) was just how anxiety inducing and chaotic he was, something that sucks for me since I’m a very skittish person even if I try not to be.

Biden is steadfast and (media aside trying to make a conflict on him) has never made me feel like I’m on unstable ground. He’s like a rock in the storm:

Stand by him, and we’ll weather through the chaos.

I mean in part thats why I do my weekly lists of what Biden et al are up to, because every week, EVERY single week its something huge and transformative, for the first time in my lifetime people can write "The Case for Climate Optimism" we have a government pledged to ending hunger in this country reduce homelessness by 1/4th by next year we are doing big things in this country

a few political speeches are the pole stars of my politics, the center of what I believe in.

Harvey Milk's Hope speech "I know you cannot live on Hope alone, but without it, life is not worth living" tells me and teaches me to always be for something not just again stuff, and to always be the happy warrior, gotta give 'em hope.

Ted Kennedy's 1980 DNC speech "the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die." to always get back up and get into the ring, its not never over till you give up, the Dream Shall Never Die how ever dark it gets if you hang into it with both hands

but most importantly is Ann Richards 1988 DNC Speech, if you've never heard it, you should:

I’m a grandmother now. And I have one nearly perfect granddaughter named Lily. And when I hold that grandbaby, I feel the continuity of life that unites us, that binds generation to generation, that ties us with each other. And sometimes I spread that Baptist pallet out on the floor, and Lily and I roll a ball back and forth. And I think of all the families like mine, like the one in Lorena, Texas, like the ones that nurture children all across America. And as I look at Lily, I know that it is within families that we learn both the need to respect individual human dignity and to work together for our common good.  Within our families, within our nation, it is the same. And as I sit there, I wonder if she’ll ever grasp the changes I’ve seen in my life -- if she’ll ever believe that there was a time when blacks could not drink from public water fountains, when Hispanic children were punished for speaking Spanish in the public schools, and women couldn’t vote. I think of all the political fights I’ve fought, and all the compromises I’ve had to accept as part payment. And I think of all the small victories that have added up to national triumphs and all the things that would never have happened and all the people who would’ve been left behind if we had not reasoned and fought and won those battles together. And I will tell Lily that those triumphs were Democratic Party triumphs.

It is always worth it to fight, however hard it is, however bitter it may feel in the moment to take half a loaf or a part payment, it is always always always ALWAYS! better to take a half step forward than not to move at all, because its not chess, its not a game, its people's very lives

as to what I like about Joe Biden? I could say a lot of things, he's a guy the world has knocked down a lot of times, a lot of struggles and personal tragedies that in someone else could make them hard hearted and cold, but I see a guy who always takes the time to listen

thats who is, always to see Joe on a rope line talking to people is to understand their cares are truly his, he truly and I promise you this wants what's best for people.

and just for a second remember who he's running against, who that guy is on the most basic level, saying he couldn't have raped that woman she's too ugly

so do you want a President who stops everything to tell a kid its gonna be okay, that that kids can do anything, and gives him his phone number and calls him to help, or you want the guy who tells your kids "when you're famous they let you do it, grab 'em by the pussy" up to you.

[freakenomenon]

okay hereeee are some ted opinions that i feel as though i should share before i explode with frustration.

teds paranoia is due to AM of course, yes. this is horribly tragic and what AM has done to the survivors is HORRIBLE. but.... it doesn't excuse the CLEAR misogynistic bias ( and possible racial bias STAY WITH ME HERE IM BLACK I AM THE MOST CERTIFIED TO TALK ABOUT THIS. ) ted displays towards ellen. when talking about the others he doesn't make derogatory statements towards their gender identities or their choices within their past lives. especially with benny being gay he only states that AM had sexually humiliated him because of it, which does not mean he agrees with it. but then when he shifts over to ellen it's so OBVIOUS how victim blamey and sexist his words are. implying that she enjoys servicing them and that AM had given her pleasure despite her clearly not wanting any of that. he doesnt only just GLOSS OVER the sexual humiliation of benny, he uses it against ELLEN. paranoia does not CAUSE bigotry to sprout, as someone with paranoia if anything it's more offensive to IMPLY that it would cause saying something that horrendous to a SEXUAL ASSAULT VICTIM. ( not only talking about the elevator here by the way, ellen being forced to service the others can genuinely be considered proximity assault and COERCION but whatever ) yes, i do feel bad for ted in the aspect that he is a torture victim and he's gone through so much and that he has genuinely been driven mad. but bigotry within madness cannot be justified in ANY right. it's also very insulting to his character to imply that his ONLY personality traits are being a douchebag. yes it's a big part of him because he is ,,, a douchebag. but to truly understand why you shouldn't like ted as a PERSON ( not as a character, he's very well written do whatever you want ) you have to peel away exactly at what makes his actions unjustifiable in the end.

moving on, his portrayal in the game is both interesting and completely absurd and horrendous. let me start this off by saying. Ted. Does NOT. love ellen. Ted is not ACTUALLY in love with this woman. He's just clinging to whatever he can for validation and he believes that he is ENTITLED to her validation because of his isolation and belief that the MEN hate him. not to mention his warped view on sex due to him being groomed may have led him to believe that sex = love. the short sporadic and awfully humiliating sparks of passion between ellen and ted during those intimate moments, especially for a grooming victim. may be incredibly confusing and conflicting. which of course is not at all teds fault, he's a victim. i don't blame him for that. teds character in the game in some aspects couldve been a beautifully done portrayal of how "love" and a want for it can bring out the worst in someone. that having trauma doesn't always make good functioning morally correct members of society. in other aspects. it's. bad. God fucking. JESUS it's bad i don't even want to talk about how horrendous he is written in the game christ on a celery stick. I can't even say this is because of my personal disliking of ted. all of the characters are so STRANGELY written in the game that is actually absurd in resemblance to their characters in the short story. but whatever.

rant over.

[itsclydebitches]

Don't mind me, everyone, just gonna slip on my Tedependent conspiracy hat for a bit...

Okay, for real though, can we talk about how Trent's backstory in 3x06 completely re-contextualizes his dinner with Ted in 1x03? Based on my own interpretation, the implied timeline is that Trent was married to a woman, attempted to come out to her and was dismissed (perhaps in large part because they were married: what do you mean you're gay? You can't be. You love me, etc.), either having his daughter forced Trent to become more honest about what he and his family needed, or they had her in an attempt to "fix" the marriage, she gets caught in the crossfire of all this, Trent comes out again, this time his wife believes him, they divorce, are still good friends, and their daughter is happier than ever because she has two loving parents who are now living their best lives.

Given her age - 3 at the start of the series, about 6 now - that means there's a decent possibility that Trent was still married at the beginning of the show.

And that his dinner with Ted is one of the things that pushed him to try coming out again.

As his core Ted is someone who is authentic and that authenticity is what catches Trent's interest. He's dismissive of it at first, literally thinking it's a "fucking joke," only to later end up with the revelation, "You really mean that, don't you?" - that Ted honestly enjoyed spending time with him. AKA, Ted says and does what he means, even when it seems completely unbelievable. How freeing must that be to see? I'm just imagining this interview-turned-dinner through the eyes of a man who is still unhappily married, mostly closeted, and struggling to help his daughter through the stress of that dynamic. Then he meets this sunshine of a coach who is so authentically himself that it initially comes across as an act, an exaggeration, a joke. But Ted never wavers, simply refuses to be anything other than himself. Soon he's doing even more than that, breaking down gender norms by characterizing the masculine, aggressive Roy Kent as the "little girl" from A Wrinkle in Time, burdened with the responsibility of leadership. He turns what should have been the end of a horrific day of shadowing into a dinner date and Trent finds himself answering the hard-hitting questions instead of his interviewee. Ted brushes off his accusation of greed with, "Wait, I'm supposed to be getting paid?" but Trent is completely caught off guard by Ted's "What do you love?"

The textual answer is "writing" and the fun fandom answer is "you," but if this is a Trent who still hasn't fully come out yet that's! A hell! Of a question!!! A closeted, queer individual's mind is going to jump to their biggest secret and, when offered an out, they're going grasp at it, so Trent eagerly agrees with Ted's guess of "writing" the same way Colin eagerly pulls the 'This is a gay bar? Haha, my mistake' card and makes a run for the door. Reading this interaction as Trent not just being gay, but potentially being closeted and unhappily married makes it less about the journalism (this strange coach likes me and thinks I can be a good person despite my invasive career choice) and more about his sexuality. Oh, no big deal, just having an intimate dinner with another good-looking man who's questioning me on love of all things and slowly inspiring me to be the best version of myself, which would require coming out to my wife again. This is a totally normal and not at all life-changing night! I definitely don't need to run away now!!

Via this reading Trent's article feels so loaded. Ted is "out there in the community" either "bravely or stupidly facing the music." That sounds a hell of a lot like a parallel to literally coming out and facing the music of a community's potential rejection, with Ted's American background/inexperience/unique personality acting as a stand-in for sexuality; the reasons he's labeled a "wanker" before anyone actually gets to know him - as the pub trio does while those very words are narrated by Higgins.

And then we have this:

"If the Lasso way is wrong, it's hard to imagine being right.... and though I believe that Ted Lasso will fail here... I can't help but root for him."

There are other elements at play here, like the football's celebration of ego and the threat of the club being relegated, but underneath it really sounds like a still-cynical Trent wanting to see the kind of changed world that those like Ted could bring about, but not really believing that it's possible. Given his history, is he really just talking about football when it comes to "the Lasso way"? I doubt it. Trent is potentially feeling trapped at this point in time, pessimistic to the point where yes, he still thinks that Ted will fail at football and creating a more inclusive, accepting community... but even still, Trent can't help but root for him. Of course he can't. He wants what Ted is offering. He needs it.

But then, of course, Ted succeeds! Not just in doing well by the club, but by the community as a whole. He maintains that inspiration and hope until, potentially, Trent felt like he could do something about his own situation. He found the nerve and strength to try again. So he comes out to his wife, they divorce, their daughter is happy, he goes on a date with a mustached man at the local pub, ditches him to try and 'interview' Ted, blows up his career because he realizes that his job is undermining the very thing he's been rooting for and he can't not give Ted a heads up, begins shadowing Ted as he looks for something "deeper," and then comes out to Colin, gazing wistfully across the water as he imagines being able to kiss a man after a win...

I'm not saying Ted Lasso is going to go there - and I'm DEFINITELY not saying there should be ANY accusations of queer baiting if/when they don't, because we've absolutely built the majority of this ship in fandom spaces - but I AM saying that if Trent's potential intersection of his history with Ted's influence and Ted's desire to shake things up while imagining bisexual triangles actually led to something... it would be a damn well done setup!

[its-time-to-write]

What about Jaime liking someone who works at/owns a flower shop so he keeps making excuses to come in and get flowers? Richmond is real confused about why he’s giving away so many bouquets all of the sudden

(Ps I love love love your work! I’ve got it so I get an alert whenever you post because of how much I love it!)

this one turned out SO CUTE I hope you like it!

wishing on every one

You know you’re fucked as soon as he walks through the door of your shop. 

Then he tells you he’s looking for flowers for his mum who’s visiting him for the first time, and you know you’re extra fucked. 

He’s absolutely gorgeous, especially in the soft light streaming through your flower shop windows, framed by the vibrant hues of the plants lining the shelves.

Then he says, “I’m Jamie,” peers at your name tag, and tells you that you have a lovely name. You’re blushing the entire time you lead him around the shop, answering each one of his questions as best you can without stuttering. He cracks jokes, picks out a nice bunch, and leaves you one flower for yourself on his way out. 

And then, the next week, he comes back. 

Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond’s star footballer, comes back to your shop and flirts with you again. 

Of course you know who he his, you knew the moment he stepped through the door. You live in Richmond after all, and you agree with the great Dani Rojas that here, football is life. It’s just hard to believe that your favorite footballer is back in your tiny little store and maybe sort of kinda definitely flirting with you.

You don’t let it get to your head (much). It’s Jamie Tartt, you’ve seen him on Lust Conquers All. To him, flirting is like breathing. You also don’t tell anyone, although you feel like you’re bursting inside. Your flat mate notes that you’re smiling more and that you always seem to be humming, and could you please maybe be careful when you’re skipping around because she just mopped the floor and doesn’t want you to slip. 

But Jamie Tartt keeps coming back; first once a week, then twice, then about every other day. He follows you around as you help him choose flowers for all kinds of occasions, and then he’a gone again, leaving you to wonder which time will be the last. 

—

At Nelson Road, things are in chaos. 

Ok, maybe chaos is too strong a word. Things are… out of the ordinary. 

Well, but things have been out of the ordinary ever since Ted Lasso showed up. 

Things are… weird. Yeah, that’s a good word. They’re weird. And “they,” refers to Jamie. 

It starts off simple enough. It's Sam’s birthday, so Jamie shows up with some flowers. He heard Sam say they were his favorites, so it makes sense that he’d bring them. No one notices anything. 

The next week, he’s brought some for Ms. Welton. 

“It’s for all the shit you do that we don’t know about,” he explains. “Didn’t want you to think we didn’t notice.”

Rebecca doesn’t comment on the double negative, just smiles and says, “Thank you, Jamie,” as Keeley sits forward on the couch in a slight state of shock. The Jamie she was with had never done something like that for her romantically, and here he is doing it platonically. Holy shit, he really has changed. 

Rebecca also doesn’t take the flowers to mean something they don’t. She knows that the team looks to her with the same respect they would afford an older sister or even a mother (although she is not old enough). Strangely, she doesn’t mind. It makes her feel loved in a way she’s unused to, and the flowers from Jamie hang upside down on her wall so they can be immortalized. 

Barely a week after that, he’s gotten some for Keeley. “It’s to make up for the ones I never got you,” he tells her. They’re all bright pink with fluffy petals. Keeley wraps her arms around Jamie with a squeal of delight. Roy grunts angrily, so Jamie pulls out a bunch of dark red and black flowers. “Didn’t leave you out, grandad,” he grins as Roy pretends to hate the bouquet. But even he isn’t cold-hearted enough to hate flowers.

Suddenly, people are getting flowers every other day. It’s become Jamie’s thing. Ted gets some sunflowers when he seems like he’s missing home a little extra. Will gets a bunch of sweet-smelling flowers that Jamie doesn’t know the name of, but he knows that purple one’s lavender because he remembers how you told him it reminded you of growing up. Dani gets a bundle of tulips and it almost makes him pass out from excitement, but luckily Isaac is there to catch him. 

Dani is firmly seated on the bench in the locker room and Jan Maas has removed all tulips except one, and now Isaac has the chance to turn to Jamie and ask the question that’s on everyone’s mind. 

“What gives, bruv?”

Those three words make Jamie turn bright red, but he shrugs it off with a laugh. 

“What, can’t get me best mates flowers?”

“It is a little better than the PS5s,” Richard says. There’s a chorus of agreement, much to the surprise of Coach Beard. 

Jamie thinks he’s in the clear and his face isn’t red anymore but then Dani says, “Jamie Tartt, why did you decide to give us flowers and not some other expensive gaming device?” and Jamie knows he’s completely and utterly fucked. He did not think this far. He has no excuse, no lie, so what comes out of his mouth is, “The flower shop girl’s fit,” and then the locker room completely descends into chaos. 

The boys are firing questions at Jamie faster than he can even understand them, and Ted’s just laughing at the pure pandemonium. He remembers similar moments when coaching other football teams, American ones, and the good feeling that comes along with “boys being boys,” in the way the phrase was originally intended. 

All pertinent information is successfully extracted from Jamie before the team heads home, except your name and which flower shop it is. Colin says that’s the most important bit, but Jamie refuses to tell them more than the fact that your laugh makes the sun shine brighter. Isaac nods thoughtfully and Roy shakes his head, but it’s with a fondness he reserves only for his team. 

It could be any shop, really. There are conversations across the parking lot of the best way to figure out which one it is and Jamie’s getting nervous when he hears Ted’s voice call his name.

He turns, and Ted hurries over to where Jamie’s car is parked. 

He carefully places a hand on Jamie’s shoulder (softly, unlike the crushing grip of his father) and looks Jamie straight in the eye. 

“Jamie, life’s too short to beat around the bush. You like her. I think it would be best if you rose to the occasion and just asked her out. I be-leaf in you, son. You just gotta get clover it and do what you gotta do.”

Jamie doesn’t pick on the flower puns until about the third one. He’s laughing a little bit and Ted is too, all while regarding Jamie with a soft look that Jamie always wished his father would give him. Ted pulls Jamie in for a hug and says, “In all seriousness man, we’re rooting for you.” 

Jamie gives him a look, which makes Ted hold up his hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I’m done,” he says. “For now.” Then he winks and headed to meet Coach Beard. 

—

It’s the middle of the afternoon when the bell on your door jingles, and you look up from the register hoping to see Jamie. 

Instead, you see a middle-aged man with a mustache smiling at you. 

He says, “Howdy,” in a way that is so very American, that you can’t help but break into a wide smile. 

“Hi!” you reply, “How can I help you?”

“My name’s Ted Lasso,” he says walking toward you. “I coach football here in Richmond.”

You’re still grinning. “I know who you are, Coach Lasso. I’m a big Richmond supporter. Have been since I was a kid.”

“Just Ted is fine,” says Just Ted. “I usually don’t like to introduce myself along with my job title because it makes me seem all uppity, but I thought it might make more sense if I did.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion so Ted says, “You were expecting to see Jamie today, is that right?”

You nod. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Jamie’s coach is in your flower shop and he knows that you like him and he’s probably going to tell you you can never see Jamie again because that’s the only logical reason he’s here, right? Maybe Jamie’s been skipping practice to be here with you and that all has to end now because football is life and you of all people should know that. Shit. 

Ted must be able to see the panic on your face because he shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry darlin’, it ain’t anything bad. I’m only here to let you know that boy’s got it down bad for you.”

Wait, what?

“Oh,” you reply. 

“Yeah, oh,” Ted chuckles. “Why’d you think he was here all the time?”

“I- I don’t know,” you say. “He flirts with everyone. I’m nothing extra special.”

Ted shakes his head again. “There’s where you’re wrong. You’re somethin’ extra special. Did you know I found you based on the way Jamie talked about you alone? He didn’t even give your name, but I’ve been in here once or twice myself and I must say, he was right when he said the sun shines a little brighter when you smile. I figured it had to be you the moment he said that.”

You’re smiling again. Jamie said that about you? To his coach?

Ted’s talking again. “Listen,” he says, a little more serious, “Jamie’s like a son to me. And sometimes dads need to give their sons a little push so they can get rid of their training wheels and just go for it, you know what I mean?” 

You’re at a loss but Ted just grins. “I got here exactly three minutes before the boys take a break for lunch, which means that Jamie should be in here-” the bell at the door jingles “-right about now.”

“Coach?” Jamie asks, looking very adorable and very confused. “What’re you doing here?”

Ted shrugs. “Sometimes dads gotta take things into their own hands. Give you a little extra boost, as it were. Figured you’d be in here forever before you got the guts to make a move and by then Nelson Road would be completely overrun by flowers. Not that that’s a bad thing,” he says with a glance to you. “Anyway. I’ll be on my merry little way. Beard’s saving me a seat at our favorite lunch spot.”

Ted waves a two finger goodbye and pats Jamie on the shoulder as he heads out the door, bell ringing behind him. 

“So,” you say, making your way around the counter over to Jamie. 

“So…” he replies, looking down at you. 

You take his hand. “Heard from a reliable source that you have a crush on me.”

Jamie grins. “Ain’t a crush babe, I’m a grown lad.  Think it’s somethin’ a little more real.”

“Uh huh,” you say, smiling back at him. “Well it just so happens that I also have a crush on you as well as a thirty-minute lunch break that starts right about now…”

[wlntrsldler]

now i see daylight | part ii: treacherous

song: treacherous by taylor swift

series description: set after lust conquers all, jamie returns to richmond and takes accountability for treating you like shit.

warnings: language-- it's ted laso, what did ya expect?; bff!sam, touch starved jamie and reader, A LOT OF ALCOHOL, richmond himbos

pairing: jamie tartt x f! reader

word count: 2054 words

series masterlist | main masterlist

When the whistle was blown for full time, the cheers in the arena were deafening. You couldn’t hear yourself think and everything seemed to slow. You stood behind Roy, clutching your camera, as you watched the sea of red and blue storm the field. You were only snapped out of your thoughts when Will jumped on your back, hugging you from behind. 

“We’re moving up!” Will screamed behind you, beaming from ear to ear. “Come on, Y/N, let’s celebrate!” 

You placed your camera on one of the seats under the tent and tossed a jacket over it. You followed Will into the middle of the field where all of the coaches, players, and fans were celebrating. 

“Dani Rojas you legend!” You yelled, running toward Dani. He grinned at you, picking you up by your waist to spin you around. “I am so fucking proud of you!” 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he put you down, holding you by your shoulders. “You will come to the after-party, yes?” 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” 

You made your rounds with all of the players. Most of them were so excited, they couldn’t say anything but, “Let’s goooooo!” Colin threw an arm around you and walked you over to Sam, who you still hadn't seen because of the chaos. When Sam saw you, he ran to you, smiling so wide you were sure his cheeks hurt. 

“Y/N! Can you believe it? We are back in the Premier League!” 

“I believe it. I knew you guys could do it.” 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he hugged you tightly. “Are you coming to the after-party? Please tell me you will. I can pick you up.” 

You tutted, “Samuel, I will be there but you are not driving tonight. You deserve to get absolutely trashed.” 

“Agreed, mate.” 

There was that accent again. You turned around to see Jamie, glowing under the lights. Ever since the day he cornered you in the hallway, he made do with his promise. He didn’t bother you again unless it was for work. You’ve been more courteous to him. You no longer ignored his “good mornings,” or “how are ya’s,” but you still kept your distance. However, your resolve was slowly fading. Being around him again made you remember why you were so drawn to him in the first place. With him being a different version of himself now, it increased that attraction tenfold. 

Sam looked between the two of you and smirked, walking away discreetly. He’s noticed the small smiles on your face whenever Jamie would come around. You tried to hide it, but Sam knew you too well. 

You turned your body to look at Jamie, shyly looking at him. Jamie met your eye, eyes twinkling in a way that you haven’t seen since the last night you shared with him. He had a boyish smile on his face. You pursed your lips, trying not to let a smile slip, but you were unsuccessful. Jamie’s eyes got brighter, which you didn’t realize was possible. 

“Great job, Jam.” 

Jamie let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding at the sound of his nickname leaving your lips. He bit his bottom lip, stretching his hand out for a handshake, “I appreciate it, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes and smacked his hand away. You walked toward him and pulled him into a hug. Jamie froze in your arms for a second before melting into the hug and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You didn’t realize how much you missed him until you felt his arms tighten around your torso. It was like you finally got a taste of the thing you were craving for months as if there was nothing else in the world that could’ve made this moment sweeter, better. 

Your hand made its way to the back of his neck, where you cradled the back of his head, fingers softly tugging on his hair. It was muscle memory, how you used to cuddle him on his couch all those months ago. Jamie sighed into your skin, his warm breath awakening you from the trance you were under, causing you to pull away. 

Both of your faces were flushed when you pulled apart. Jamie cleared his throat, looking down at his feet, before vaguely motioning somewhere as if there was something requiring his attention. You did the same, leaving to go in the opposite direction as him. 

You turned around and saw Keeley with a smirk on her face, arms crossed with a knowing look. “World must be ending, I suppose?” 

Blushing, you shoved her lightly, “Shut up.” 

In true Captain fashion, Isaac rented a giant party bus for all of the players and a few special guests, including you, Keeley, Roy, and Will. The bus was taking all of you to a club in London that Isaac bought out for the night to celebrate the win and promotion. Roy, who should know better now that he was a coach, denounced his coach-ship before he stepped foot on the bus, stating that tonight he was “going to have the fucking time of my life!”

When you walked into the bus with Sam, you were hit with the sound of a club beat. Players were already a few drinks in from the bottles of beer and liquor scattered around the bus. Jan Maas was holding onto the pole, laughing as he fist-pumped to the song. Richard had a bottle of red wine in his grasp, which you later saw had a sticker on it that said “Property of Richard Montlaur.” Colin and Isaac were in the corner singing into a bottle of gin when “Hotel Room Service” by Pitbull started playing. 

Sam was pulled from you by O’Brien who made him take shots. With you both being the last two the team was waiting for, the bus lightly jerked as it began its journey to London. The entire team cheered, raising bottles in the air. 

You laughed as you tried to make your way around the bus, trying to find a friendly face that wasn’t too far gone. You knew all of them would regret this in the morning. You turned to your right and found Jamie and Dani sharing a bottle of tequila, laughing at something that you’d later learn was not that funny. 

“Y/N!” Dani yelled when he saw you. He scooted over on the leather bench, leaving a space next to Jamie for you to occupy. “You are here!” 

“I am!” You replied, shaking your head at how far gone the boys already are and you’ve barely even left Nelson Road. “How you guys feelin’?”

“Fuckin’ fantastic,” Jamie replied, taking another sip from the bottle. He handed it to you, which you took. You drank some and grimaced when the strong taste hit your tongue. 

The two boys laughed as you passed the bottle to Dani. Dani stood up, holding onto the pole that Jan Maas was holding earlier, and began to make his rounds in the bus. He kept offering the bottle to anyone he saw. You couldn’t help but laugh at how they all took the bottle from Dani, despite not liking tequila. 

“‘M glad you’re here.” 

Your attention focused back on Jamie, who was staring up at you. His eyes were clouded, eyelids droopy. You playfully punched his shoulder, “How are you already drunk?” 

Jamie furrowed his eyebrows, “You and Sam were so late. We had to get started without you lot.” 

“We were thirty minutes late.” 

“A lot can happen in thirty minutes.” 

You snorted. It made Jamie smile. He bumped your knee with his. You looked at where your bodies touched. Your breath got stuck in your throat. You swallowed, “I guess I need to catch up.” 

“Damn right,” a lopsided smirk graced his lips. He dug behind him in the ice bucket and pulled out a bottle of Clase Azul. He handed it to you, “Go on then.” 

“Menace,” you replied, grabbing the bottle from him. Your fingers brushed, sending shocks throughout your entire body. “You know I can’t say no to good tequila.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I bought it,” he shrugged, opening a beer. “I bought it for you. Nearly broke Bumbercatch’s arm when he tried to open it earlier.” 

“Jamie, this is an expensive bottle of tequila.” 

“Yeah well, Coach wouldn’t let me buy the whole team PS5s as a sorry, but he didn’t say anything about buyin’ you expensive liquor.” 

You were sure that Jamie was only saying this because the alcohol was clouding his better judgment. He probably won’t remember this in the morning, or at the very least, he’d wonder whether or not this was real life or just something his mind made up. You opened the bottle and took a long swig from it. 

As good as the tequila was, you still grimaced, frantically searching to find a chaser. Jamie, who remembered your drinking habits, held out a cup of Diet Coke. You downed the entire cup, sighing in relief when the taste of tequila was masked by the sugary drink. “Thanks, Jam.” 

“Missed you callin’ me that,” he admitted, a look of longing on his face. “Missed you in general, to be honest. Been hell without you in my life.” 

“Jamie,” you started, turning your body to him. “You’re drunk so I suggest you stop talking.” 

“Am I makin’ you uncomfortable?” Jamie asked, concern on his face. He sobered for a moment, blinking back as if he was trying to figure out what he just said. 

“No, no,” you assured him, placing a hand on his thigh. He tensed under your touch, letting out a shaky breath. You were really close to each other now. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to say anythin’ you’ll regret in the morning.” 

“Don’t think that’ll happen,” he said, nonchalantly. He took a sip from his beer, trying not to move too much in fear that you would remove your hand from his thigh if he did. Hesitantly, he started drawing figure eights with his pointer finger on your hand that was touching him. He let out a breath when you didn’t pull away. “Been regrettin’ not saying anything to ya. Should’ve told you how I felt that night. Or any night after that, really. I was just bein’ a prick ‘cause I was hurt that Richmond let me go.” 

You stayed silent. You didn’t know what to make of his words. Was he talking about the night you told him how you felt? Surely not. What does he mean by tell you how he felt?

Jamie continued, “And the thing was, I knew Richmond had no say in whether or not I was goin’ back to Man City, but it still hurt, I guess. Woke up to a text sayin’ I had to go back to Man City from my agent. Not even a text from Ted, or Keeley, or you. Thought I didn’t mean nothin’ to any of ya, so I just shut everyone out.” 

“And it’s real shit of me to do, ain’t it? Especially how I treated ya. I don’t blame you for not forgiving me or giving me a second chance.” He stopped drawing on your hand. He drank from his beer again. You looked at him. He had a small and nervous smile on his face. Testing his luck, he brought a hand up to touch your face. “Shame I fucked it all up really ‘cause you’re the only person I ever actually wanted to spend the rest of my life with.” 

“Jamie–” 

“Come on, party animals!” Isaac yelled from the front of the bus. Somehow the top five buttons of his shirt became undone during the drive. He slung an arm around Will, who had a tie wrapped around the circumference of his head, “Let’s get iiiiiittttttt!” 

The bus erupted in hollers as players trickled out of the bus. Sam, who was giggly under the influence, found you next to Jamie. Jamie, seeing that Sam was there to walk you out of the bus, waved goodbye to you and caught up with Bumbercatch. You held the Clase Azul bottle close to your body as you threw on a fake smile, walking off the bus with Sam.

--

part i: don't you

part iii: daylight

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 7

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, mentions of cartels, grief, smut

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: The chapter where we find out why Ted is on Beau's punch list aka The One With Ted... 😂

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 7: Storm Coming

May 2021

“I sold the house,” you said, your voice ripping through the quiet of the car during another starry stake-out night.

“So you’re homeless now?” Beau joked and peeled his eyes away from the front window view and glanced at you from the driver’s seat, his hand resting on the steering wheel, the other one in his lap.

You chuckled. “Yup, but I got a hot plate now in my motel room and one of those Italian moka pots. So, you know, some would say I’m living the dream.”

Beau snorted in amusement before he pensively rubbed his mouth with two fingers. “You didn’t have to sell the house, you know?”

You heaved a sigh. “Yeah, I kinda did, though… I didn’t like staying in there anymore. It’s just… too many memories, I guess? ‘Sides, I’m always down here anyways. Actually considering moving here.”

Beau frowned at you, his nose scrunching. “What, to Mexico? Are you nuts? Over my dead body are you doin’ that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had a say in it,” you retorted rather playfully and put a shocked palm on your chest in mock.

“Damn right, I do,” Beau scoffed his reply with a teasing grin. “Who do you think is lookin’ out for ya, huh?”

“Wait, you think you are? That’s what you believe?” You snorted a laugh, entering banter territory with him.

It was usually how you passed your time during most of these stake-outs – laughing, teasing, and the occasional talking about your problems. You’d never known Beau like this before. He was your husband’s best friend, but he had been more of an acquaintance to you. Now, after months of spending close to every day together, it felt like he was your best friend. Since Randy’s death, he’d been there for you, even if it was mostly out of guilt.

“Yeah, what d’you think?” Beau countered challengingly.

“Oh sweetie, you’re not looking after me. I’m looking after you,” you stated confidently. The smile that twitched on his lips seemed to actually agree with you. “Out of the two of us, you’re the way bigger wreck. Some would even think it’s your husband who died, not mine.”

“Are you calling me a girl?”

You coolly shrugged your shoulders. “Either I’m calling you a girl, or I’m calling you gay. I’ll let you pick.”

Laughingly, Beau scoffed and muttered, “You wish I was gay.”

However, you still heard his mumbled reply and responded, “Actually, I wish you were a girl and that I was gay.”

Beau stared at you and leaned back against the door for a better view of you, his brow raised and the corners of his lips drawn slightly upwards in amusement. “What are we even talking about?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted with a shake of your head.

The two of you then burst into loud laughter that filled the entire SUV. For a moment, all your sorrows and hardships seemed to be forgotten, carried away to the desert with the nightly breeze. Then, the familiar and comfortable quiet took over the car again.

“I’m moving out of the house, too,” Beau said, his eyes focusing on the barren landscape and desolate road ahead. “I’m giving it to Carla. I mean, she didn’t ask me to. God knows she can take care of herself… But I want Emily to keep living in the home she grew up in, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. That’s really nice,” you said quietly. Your soft smile then morphed to a grin. “So you’re homeless, too, huh?”

Beau laughed, throwing his head back into the seat. “Yeah, guess I am. Maybe we should live together?” he suggested half-jokingly.

“Like roommates? Ugh, God no!” You scoffed in abhorrence. “We’re way too old for that. You’re over forty, I’m barely in my thirties–”

“You do know I know exactly how old you really are, right?” Beau teased.

You decided to ignore that jab and continued, unbothered. “It would be seriously so sad. The Widow And The Divorcee – sounds like the worst sitcom on the planet. ‘Sides, it’d be super awkward if one of us starts dating again.”

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” Beau relented with a soft chuckle and then glanced at you sideways. His heart gained speed in his chest. “You ever think about it? Dating? Gettin’ out there again? Been nine months.”

You twitched your shoulders, choosing not to look at him. “I don’t know. Is nine months long enough after your husband died?”

Thoughtfully, Beau licked his lips and let out a small sigh. “I don’t think there’s a timeline, or a right and wrong. I just think it’s one of those things that when you’re ready, you’re ready.” “Well, consider me not ready then, I guess,” you replied honestly.

“Alright,” Beau accepted, bobbing his head. “But I still think you should try again at some point, you know? You shouldn’t be alone for the rest of your life. First of all, it’d be a total waste, ‘cause, I mean, look at you. And secondly, you’re barely in your thirties, after all,” he repeated your earlier joke with a soft grin.

You felt the heat creep to your cheeks in the moonlight. As you looked at him, you could see his smirk, making you laugh. “Noted,” you replied and were thankful for his pep talk. “I mean, there’ve been offers.”

Beau quirked one eyebrow, a hard lump forming in his throat as his chest tightened. “Offers? Like plural? Who?”

“Well, just some of the guys from our team. Cody, Jordan, Ted…” you named a few. “Also a few locals. Remember those guys we played pool with a few weeks ago? Two of ‘em asked for my number.”

“Huh. That is plural…” Beau pursed his lips and couldn’t keep his brow from wrinkling, his grip on the steering wheel stiffening. “Well, you know, when you’re not ready, you’re not ready. Shouldn’t force anything. No rush, darlin’.”

Smooth, Beau thought wryly with an internal sigh.

“Right, I know,” you agreed. “I do miss sex, though. Getting kinda bored of my vibrator.”

Beau choked on his spit. “Jesus…”

“What? Am I not allowed to talk about it? I thought we were friends. You’re supposed to care about my well-being and happiness,” you argued, frowning.

“I do care. Just… Can we please not talk about that?” he begged and exhaled a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his freckled nose.

“Fine. I miss having women around…” You shrugged and muttered, “Didn’t peg you for a prude.”

“Okay, let’s just get one thing straight – I’m not a prude,” he clarified in defense, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

“Alright, also noted,” you quipped, smirking to yourself. Sometimes you enjoyed making him a little uncomfortable. His blushed cheeks could be quite cute. “What about you? Have you still not talked to Carla? I’m sure you can win her back if you tried. You’re a lot better now.”

“Well, thank you for the, uh, vote of confidence, but it’s really over, I guess. We just talked about all the divorce proceedings last time. I actually think she started datin’ someone recently,” Beau told you.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really? Who?”

“I guess some rich tech guy. I don’t know…”

“And you’re good with that?” you questioned in disbelief.

Beau scoffed a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Ha, no… But what am I gonna do? Kinda shot myself in the leg with that one. I don’t blame her for moving on. It’s been over for months now.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry. I was kinda rooting for you two,” you admitted.

“Well, thanks, but we weren’t you and Randy,” Beau said. It made your brow knit.

“What d’you mean?”

“C’mon, you know what I mean,” Beau replied as if it were obvious, but you still shook your head. He sighed. “You and Randy would’ve never gotten divorced.”

“You don’t know that.” Honestly, you doubted it yourself, but you were too curious to find out what he meant by his statement.

“I do know that,” Beau insisted with certainty. “You guys had that once-in-a-lifetime kinda love. The kind that made other people jealous, you know? Your love made every other relationship pale in comparison. I always figured once the honeymoon phase was over, you’d settle and be less vomit-inducing, but that never happened. Me and Carla were never like that. Not even in the beginning,” he explained, a small, soft smile shaping his mouth. “You guys were special. True love. The stuff folk singers write cheesy songs about.”

“I guess we were,” you mused quietly, the memory of everything Randy was to you causing tears to well in your eyes.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Beau apologized as soon as he noticed the sadness on your face. He reached his hand over to your side and squeezed your thigh gently, just above the knee.

“No, it’s alright,” you brushed him off, swallowing your heartache down. “But hey, if Carla wasn’t your once-in-a-lifetime, maybe she’s still out there. You just haven’t found her yet. I mean, that’s kinda a nice outlook, right?”

Licking his lips, he bobbed his head, his gaze focused on his hand on the steering wheel. “I doubt it.”

“Why? Never say never,” you said encouragingly.

“Well, maybe I already met her, and it’s too late now,” he replied. It sounded more like an actual fact than a hypothetical theory. You found yourself wondering.

“What, did you have like an old college flame? The one that got away?” you teased lightheartedly, but he only grew more serious.

“Somethin’ like that,” he replied vaguely, rubbing his mouth with his fingers.

“Look her up on Facebook. Maybe she’s divorced, too. You could reconnect or something,” you suggested. He nodded but didn’t seem too convinced. You then shot him a hesitant glance from your periphery. “So, now that Carla’s moving on, are you gonna start dating now, too? Jump back into the game?”

“I guess so… Why?” A part of him was curious to hear your response, while another part reminded him that his desired answer was only wishful thinking – and completely insane on top of that.

“That fiery brunette lady at the bar last night seemed really interested in you. Maybe you should hook up with her if she’s there again tomorrow night?” you proposed in earnest.

Wide-eyed, Beau blinked at you in incredulity – like you had lost your goddamn mind. “I’m sorry, what?! Hook up? Who are you right now? Are you tryin’ to set me up?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged simply, not seeing what the big problem was. “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to convince you to get a tramp stamp above your ass with a dirty needle. I’m just trying to be a good wingman… woman. Randy would’ve tried to set you up, right?”

Beau sighed frustratedly. “Yeah, he would’ve,” he admitted in a grumble and then barked, slightly more furious, “But you ain’t him. And I don’t want you to be, so stop it, alright?”

“Geez, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help,” you mumbled defensively and raised your hands in surrender, unsuccessfully hiding your upset over his reaction. He felt guilty when he saw the small pout on your face.

Beau rubbed his forehead before dragging his palm over the rest of his face. “I know. I’m sorry, too,” he said and let out a deep breath through his nose. “I just-… I guess I’m just waiting, okay?”

“Waiting for what?”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. For you to be ready, he wanted to say. But he couldn’t very well do that now, could he?

“For Christ’s sake, Y/N…” he breathed exhaustively. That was all he managed to say. With his palm on his mouth, he rested his elbow against the car door, gazing out the window.

“Why are you so upset?” you asked, your brow woven with confusion.

“Switch subjects,” he requested.

It was a phrase the two of you used whenever you didn’t want to talk about something anymore. When someone pushed too much, or the topic got too emotional and you needed a break. The only rule was to always respect the request, so you had no choice but to let it go after that.

“The Texans game sucked last night, huh?”

That elicited a snort from him, and he looked at you with a warm smile. “Yeah, goddamn awful.”

“How many times are you gonna watch those?”

Beau’s question broke your concentration. Your gaze snapped from your laptop screen to his concerned face. You’d been rewatching the victims’ videos for four days straight now, trying to find more clues. Maybe even something that directly led to Diane.

“I keep thinking maybe I’ve missed something,” you mumbled and stared back into the computer, your teeth gnawing on the pen between your lips. “It’s 48 hours each. We have twenty-four victims. I keep watching them sped-up to get through them all, but maybe I should slow ‘em down. I mean, I’ve watched them full-length, normal speed a couple of times before, but maybe I should watch ‘em even slower and really focus, you know? There’s gotta be something there…”

Bobbing his head worriedly, Beau pursed his lips and took a scan of your desk. He counted eight empty cups of coffee and five cans of energy drinks. There were bags under your red eyes and your hands were jittering. He knew you hadn’t slept a lot. He tried to hold you in his arms, but as soon as he dozed off, you snuck out and went back to work.

Beau shut the laptop. “You’re cut off.”

“Hey!”

“Y/N, you need to sleep. Just look at you, darlin’. This obsession isn’t healthy. I’m taking you home,” he declared sternly, ignoring your protests. You were pretty sure he had used his dad voice, too.

“I need that woman in prison, Beau.”

“You startin’ to sound like Jenny…” Beau quipped under his breath.

“We’re running out of time. There’s only one day left before the next victim drops,” you stated and tried your best to keep your voice steady as it broke off towards the end.

“I know.” Beau clasped your shoulder and squeezed gently. “And we’ll get her. I promise you. But you’re no good to any of us if you’re exhausted and losing it right now.” You nodded and rose from your chair. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you flush against him, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “How about some dinner, huh?”

You grinned warmly. “What, like a second date?”

“Exactly like a second date,” Beau said and mirrored your grin. He was making up for lost time as best as he could, even if it meant taking you out every night for the rest of your life.

Your phone buzzed on the table, your brow quirking at the number. Eagerly, you picked up and wound yourself out of Beau’s embrace. “Special Agent Y/L/N… Uh-huh… Great, thank you.”

Beau pursed his lips. “We’re not going out, are we?”

“‘fraid not, Sheriff.” You shook your head and chuckled at his groan. “That was IT. They’re finally done and sending over the IP addresses.”

“Alright, guess I’m gettin’ take out,” Beau announced with a small sigh, knowing the two of you were in for a long night – and not the one he had planned.

You smiled and pecked his lips. “Thank you.”

August 2020

Beau’s heart thudded frantically in his chest as his knuckles tapped your front door in the early evening. The sky was a color spectacle full of azures, indigos, and apricots as the summer sun slowly set. His boots only stood on that same spot not even twenty-four hours ago. It still felt like a surreal nightmare he couldn’t escape, his hope to wake up soon a ceaseless prayer.

He’d stayed with you all night, held you as you cried yourself to sleep. Beau awoke on your couch with your head resting on his thigh and a strange feeling in his gut. He couldn’t help but think you were beautiful, even in a state of utter turmoil, shoving said thought swiftly down into the depths of his darkening soul.

But he’d spent all day thinking of you, plagued by guilt and torn by misplaced feelings. He’d sat through hours of interviews, going over and over the events of last night till his mind spun like a hamster wheel. He was forced to fill out forms, sign documents, and recount each unforgettable step. He’d listened to lectures, sermons, and admonitions. His captain gave him a tongue-lashing that sounded like mere white noise before he was sent home with a suspension – investigation pending.

Only he didn’t go home; he came here.

At home, his wife and daughter were waiting – for a husband, a father, an explanation. None of which he could provide. Beau wanted to wallow in his grief, his guilt, his loss in peace. He lacked the strength to be strong, play pretend, and act above it all. He wanted to be punished, sent to perdition, and held accountable for his lapse of judgment. A suspension wasn’t good enough. It barely patched the abysmal gaps in his heart.

The only suitable punishment was you. Witnessing your suffering was his personally crafted hell. You were the broken remnants of his destruction, the shattered pieces of his idiocy, the explosive fallout of his arrogance.

And you hadn’t answered a single call or text of his. His torturous worry was part of his penalty.

Consecutive rings of the doorbell and incessant knocks remained unanswered. For a moment, Beau rested his forehead on the door. He felt helpless and clueless all the same. You had friends and family to take care of you, probably better suited and closer to you than him, but somehow he felt burdened with the responsibility.

He took the spare key out of the left-side planter and barged inside. The ground floor was deserted. Last night’s uneaten dinner still sat untouched on the table. It felt like a whiplash against his bare back.

Bolting upstairs, he found the door to the main bedroom ajar. He pried it open slowly, the sight of you delivering his second lashing. This time, he felt the sting burning through to his heart.

He found you curled up in bed, on your husband’s side, in your husband’s t-shirt, with your wedding photo album clutched tightly in your arms. His breath halted for a moment; his heart did, too.

Did he do this? Was this all his fault?

“Y/N?” His deep voice was quiet and careful as he spoke. Slowly, he walked over to your side and knelt down in front of you. “Darlin’, hey… You need to get up. Eat somethin’.”

Beau was sure you hadn’t moved all day. He didn’t ask you if you were alright or how you were doing. The question seemed insulting. The answer was obvious. Your phone was lighting up on the nightstand with a million unanswered calls and messages, his own among them. Your beautiful eyes were vacant, red, and empty. You didn’t cry, however, not anymore. You were dehydrated and all out of tears at this point. You never looked at him, not even a glance.

“I want him back,” you whispered, your voice coarse from screaming, crying, cursing.

Beau nodded, licking his lips. Caringly, he caressed your head, brushing a few strands of messy hair out of your face. “I know. I hope you know I’d trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could.”

For the first time your eyes found his. Your gaze was scathing and piercing. “Tell me what happened.”

Beau let out a harrowing sigh. He had rehashed the story all day long. He wasn’t sure if he could do it again, but maybe this version was the most important one. Who deserved the truth more than you?

“Y/N, I don’t think this is such a good idea, darlin’,” Beau tried to reason, mostly for himself. He wanted to hold on a little longer, the idea of you hating him tearing him apart. He wanted to spare himself the additional guilt, the anger, the hurt.

“Tell me or leave.”

Beau closed his eyes and nodded hesitantly. “Okay, alright.” He took a deep breath and settled down on the floor, leaning his back against the wooden bedside table. “We were closing in on that biker gang. Few murders, arms trafficking, drug deals… You know the drill. I’m sure Ra-… he filled you in.”

Not that long ago, Randy had asked you for advise on the case. You gave him your contacts in the DEA and a number to a CI.

“Your DEA guy warned us. Said the gang was working closely with the cartel down in Juárez. But I had my own intel that only a few members were meeting at the Hatcher warehouse in MacGregor. It was supposed to be a small deal. But I figured it could lead to bigger things if we shook ‘em down, you know? But fuckin’ Harper told us no like usual. Refused to give us back-up. Said to pass the case on to the DEA. But Randy and I worked our asses off the last few months to get even this far. We were so close. I didn’t wanna let go… So, I suggested we go in anyways. It was supposed to be only three guys from the gang. I knew if we were smart about it, we could easily take ‘em down, you know?”

You rolled onto your back and propped yourself up on the bed. Shaking your head, you chuckled humorlessly and grabbed the half-empty whiskey bottle from the nightstand. “‘Course you did. It’s not the first time you broke a rule or shit on authority.”

“Yeah, and I was right every single time,” Beau bit. His anger wasn’t geared at you but at himself. He knew he was in the wrong. He flew too close to the sun and got burned. But he still felt the need to defend himself, even if it was unjustified.

His gaze drifted to the dresser and the patch of wall above it, decorated with photographic evidence of yours and his partner’s life together. The wedding, dates, vacations, holidays – it was all there. Beau had watched it all, start to finish. He wished he could rewind the tape and cut off the ending, all so you could have the love of your life back. He didn’t know yet your cassette had a B-side. One that featured him.

“You got fucking lucky, is all,” you scoffed.

“Randy backed me up on it!”

“Of course he did! You’re his fucking partner! He would’ve followed you anywhere if you asked him to,” you snapped, shaking your head. You gulped down some whiskey then and locked your jaw before you met his eyes again with a glare. “And? What happened then, Beau? Was it only three guys?”

“No.” The word was almost inaudible. He shook his head with a harsh swallow. “They were meetin’ with a few cartel members there. My intel never said anything about that. When we were inside and saw what was really going on, it was already too late to get out. They made us, bullets started flyin’… They got a hold of Randy and… shot him.” A tear escaped down his cheek, his throat closing as he tried to choke out the last bit of the story. “I had to leave him there. I barely got out myself. I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this is on me.”

Your lips twitched with a bitter smile. You didn’t look at him, just rubbed your tired eyes. “Damn right it is. Get out.”

“Y/N, please–”

The storm in your eyes made him stop as you met his gaze, his useless apologies becoming stuck in his throat. “I said, get out. I ain’t asking a third time. You’re the reason my husband is dead. You’re the reason I don’t even have a body to bury. So, get the fuck out.” Like a snakebite, your words were targeted, sharp, and venomous.

You finally got out of bed and prodded towards the en-suite bathroom. The truth had been what you needed to switch the fighter inside of you back on. You knew what you wanted to do then and were determined to get it.

“Y/N–”

“Do you know what cartels do to bodies, Beau? To rivals? To law enforcement? ‘Cause I just came back from a job where we found forty-eight decapitated bodies, left to rot inside the walls of a house. Still haven’t found the heads yet. Probably never will,” you told him and stared him dead into his dark green eyes. “Ever seen that before, desperado?”

Beau bit his lips, averting his gaze. “No.”

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “Now, leave. Please. Get the fuck outta my house. I don’t wanna see you anymore,” you spat and slammed the bathroom door shut behind you.

Beau then grabbed the whiskey bottle you’d left and walked out of your home. It was the first of many nights he started to drink himself to sleep, but at least it kept the nightmares temporarily at bay.

“Theodore.” Beau forced a bright smile onto his freckle-dusted face, although the stiff features could barely fool anyone. At least, they wouldn’t have fooled you.

“Beau, good to see you again.” Ted smiled and did a more convincing job of it as he waltzed into Lewis and Clark County’s Sheriff’s Department. It almost seemed like he meant it. “I was surprised when Y/N told me you got a gig as a sheriff here.”

Translation: I was surprised because you were such a fuck-up back in Texas.

Beau feigned a chuckle. “Yeah, I bet you were.”

“Hopefully, you’re givin’ the DAs here less headaches,” Ted jabbed under the disguise of friendly banter. He then turned to Jenny with that same shit-eating grin. “Your sheriff is a little troublemaker.”

Sweet Lord, Beau wanted to whack the bastard.

The blonde deputy coolly brushed the accusation off. She shrugged and playfully nudged Beau’s arm, sending the Texan attorney a smile. “I prefer him that way.”

“Hey, there she is!” Beau smiled with frazzled relief when you finally hurried into the station. A little while longer, and he definitely would’ve thrown a punch.

“Hey, Ted. Thanks for coming. How was your flight?” You greeted him with a warm smile and a quick hug.

“Good, good. Never been to Montana before,” Ted said and then let his eyes wander up and down your body. “Look at you. You look great!”

“Oh, uh, thanks.” You subtly cleared your throat. You could physically feel Beau stiffen next to you. In your periphery, you could spy a tightly clenched jaw and a few strained muscles in his neck.

“Mind if Y/N and I borrow your office, Sheriff Arlen?” Ted asked and emphasized his title. “Considering the nature of this case, I’d like to keep it as private as possible. Don’t want anything to reach Ms. Newton’s ears.”

Your hunch had been right. Several IP addresses pointed to Diane, some to public Wi-Fi’s. You and the team still needed to connect her to the other states and find out where she’d been staying there, but you could definitely trace some posts in recent weeks to her home in Montana. It was enough for an arrest warrant, but you still needed more evidence.

Additionally, it had all come together a little too easily. It seemed like a giant trap you were walking into. Diane wanted to be caught. But why?

“Why don’t I just join you? I’m sure Y/N here doesn’t mind,” Beau suggested with a tight smile and then snaked his arm around your middle, pulling you closer. “Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Internally, you sighed a little at his obvious territorial pissing, but you were willing to throw him a bone. You stretched up and claimed his plump lips in a fervent kiss that Beau only all too happily reciprocated.

“Not at all, Sheriff. You know I always appreciate your input,” you replied with a dirty smirk at the double entendre.

As Beau looked down at you, he mouthed ‘God, I love you.’ You grinned in response.

“Happy to give it to you,” he said with another sweet peck of your lips. A triumphant and slightly cocky grin graced his lips as he looked back at Ted.

“Oh, so you two are back together?” Ted realized, his brow rising to his hairline. He’d never seen you two together but certainly had heard the whispers down in Mexico from your old task force. He’d been the DA for those cases as well. You’d never explicitly told him about you and Beau, though, even when he had tried to pry a little on those dates you went on.

“Well, I’m a hard one to quit,” Beau quipped almost proudly, like a peacock showing off his fan of feathers.

“As are cigarettes and many other vices,” Ted shot back with the same stupidly proud grin.

Translation: You’re an ass. And a failure. She deserves so much better. I’m ‘better.’ But maybe that didn't need a translation.

Beau should’ve known it was hard to out-argue a lawyer and ground his jaw. After all, he’d been married to one for many years.

You, on the other hand, shared a wide-eyed and baffled look with Jenny that bordered on amusement. You had almost gasped in shock. You hadn’t expected such a fiery reply, sure the men would stick to their Southern manners. But, oh well, everyone’s packing in fucking Texas…

“Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll join you in a minute,” you ordered more than you earnestly proposed and shooed the two men down the hallway towards Beau’s office.

“Sure it’s such a good idea to lock those two in a room alone?” Jenny teased, her eyes lingering a little too long on Ted’s perfectly formed ass as he sauntered down the hall.

You couldn’t blame her. You had checked out Beau’s in the same breath.

“It’s only for a short time. They’re not gonna kill each other,” you laughed it off. Jenny arched a doubtful eyebrow at you. “That quickly,” you added a correction. “So, what did I miss here?” you asked and nodded towards the two men, closing the door to Beau’s office behind them. All you heard last was them talking about the recent Texans game.

Ugh, of course, they’d end up by football…

“Dick measuring contest,” Jenny supplied wryly.

“Ah, figured…”

“Well, better them than to lock Agent Y/L/N and the sheriff into the same room,” Poppernak joked with a soft chuckle as he appeared next to you and Jenny, chiming into the conversation.

You gaped at him in mock-shock. “Mo! I can’t believe you just said that,” you chided playfully.

His cheeks turned crimson red. “I’m sorry, Special Agent Y/L/N,” he apologized in a fluster.

“Mo, I told you to call me by my first name,” you reminded him with a smile. “Or I’m gonna have to start giving you silly names like Beau does.”

“Oh, I love Sheriff Arlen’s nicknames,” he quickly defended with a nervous laugh.

“Do you?” Jenny tilted her head with a questioning eyebrow.

He shrugged. “They’re clever.”

August 2020

“Old Fashioned,�� you ordered with a look at the bartender, feeling Beau’s confused eyes and crinkled brow wander up to you. “Couldn’t have picked a nicer bar, huh? This place is a dump. You know that, right?”

Beau clicked his tongue and took a sip from his Ranch Water. “What are you doing here? Thought you never wanted to see me again.”

You let out a small sigh but didn’t meet his gaze. “Carla called me. Your family is worried about you.”

“I didn’t tell her where I was. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. Carla said you haven’t been home in three days. Figured you’d gone on a bender. This is the fifth cop bar I checked out. Finally got lucky,” you said and thanked the bartender as he placed his drink in front of you. You settled down on a barstool next to Beau.

“Quite the effort. Sure I’m worth it?”

Your tongue swept over your lips. “Beau, look at me.” His forest-green eyes found yours upon your soft plea. “I’m sorry I put all that shit on you. It wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault, okay? His death isn’t on you. I know you loved him like a brother.”

“I did.” Beau took another sip of his drink. “But it is my fault. I was reckless and arrogant. We both know it.”

“It was a set-up, alright? I talked to my DEA contact. Cody said your intel was wrong. They knew you and Randy were closing in on them. They wanted to get rid of you,” you explained.

Beau smacked his lips. “I still shoulda known better. I should’ve seen it was a trap.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. You couldn’t say you would’ve done the same thing, but you knew Beau would’ve never purposely put Randy in danger if he had even the faintest idea. “But it could’ve happened to anybody. This was bigger than you knew.”

“It wouldn’t have happened to you,” he stated quietly. You couldn’t argue with that. You were more by-the-book than he was. You would’ve never gone against a superior’s order. You would’ve respected it.

“Look, just go home. Talk to your wife. Get some help,” you said. “You missed your suspension hearing, but I spoke on your behalf. Told them it wasn’t your fault. The DEA backed me. Harper’s gonna reinstate you. Just come back as soon as you’re ready.”

Beau nodded slowly. Even if he didn’t say it, you could tell he was thankful for your efforts. “I can’t go home.”

Your brow furrowed. “Why? I’m sure Carla will understand. You need to talk to someone about this. Go to therapy – and not the alcoholic kind. Losing a partner is not something you get over quickly. You need people in your corner, including your wife.”

“You mean the wife that lets criminals out on the street?” Beau’s gaze was focused on the glass in his hands. The wrinkles on your brow deepened. “The guy that shot him… Carla’s his defense attorney. Was, at least. He was supposed to do time, but two months ago, she got him paroled.” With a dark chuckle, he emptied his glass.

“Beau…” You knew he had always struggled with Carla’s job, making you sometimes wonder about their dinner conversations at home. “It ain’t her fault more than it is yours. She’s just doing her job. You know that. You’ve been together for so long, you’d think you’re used to it by now.”

Beau scoffed a chuckle and gestured to the bartender for a refill. “I was a young cop back then. Wasn’t on the job as long. I didn’t know it would bother me so much. Still lived in that hopeful bubble, I guess.”

You smiled knowingly. “You mean the ‘I didn’t think I’d see as much shit and injustice as I do now’ bubble?”

He snickered softly. “Yep, that one. Just didn’t think it’d be this hard, you know?”

“I get it. I mean, me and Carla butt heads all the time over this stuff. But we do it in a competitive fun way and then get drunk,” you said with a light chuckle. “Guess it’s different when you’re married, though, huh?”

“Yeah, it is…” he sighed.

“Still, go home. Talk to her,” you encouraged but could see your words of wisdom fell on deaf ears. “By the way, the funeral’s on Saturday.”

He turned his gaze away from his glass and found your eyes. “You need any help with that?”

“Maybe you can give a eulogy. You knew him best. I think he would’ve really liked that,” you said with a warm smile. No matter your own feelings, you knew deep down Randy would’ve wanted you to forgive his partner.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything you need, okay?” Beau clasped your hand that laid on the bar counter and squeezed reassuringly before dropping it again.

You smiled appreciatively and teased, “Maybe show up sober. Or at least close-to.”

Beau chuckled a little. “I promise.”

You stood up from your seat then and put some cash for your drink on the counter. “Alright, I’m heading home. You need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna finish this drink, then I’ll head out, too,” he said.

“You sure? Don’t make me come back here,” you threatened playfully.

Beau laughed softly. “I won’t. Thanks for everything, Y/N. I mean it.”

You sent him a smile and gave his shoulder a squeeze on your way out. “You’re welcome. Get home safe, okay?”

However, Beau couldn’t keep any of his promises. He made it home after three more drinks and woke up on the front lawn of his house. Carla wasn’t happy when she found him in the morning as she brought Emily to school. But Beau couldn’t stop. Every time he closed his eyes, the tragic events flashed before him like a horror movie, witnessing Randy’s death in a never-ending loop. He kept seeing his partner get dragged away, heard the shot over and over again like a rain of bullets without a ceasefire.

The guilt was eating him alive. The guilt of getting his partner into this mess in the first place. Of leaving him behind. Of surviving and coming out alive when he didn’t deserve to.

So, Beau kept drinking to forget, even though he knew it was a futile endeavor. The memory would never fade, but at least it was blurred.

Your heavy breaths echoed through the small trailer. His mouth moved down the column of your throat, leaving a wet path of ravenous love bites in its wake.

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned wantonly, his grip on your flesh punishing as he kept you pressed flush against him while he devoured you on the little dining table. Your ass sat on the wooden surface, your crossed ankles locked tightly behind his muscular back.

“God, you made me so happy today,” he growled against the shell of your ear, his rising length rubbing against your core through layers of denim.

“I can see that.” You giggled, your hands dangling in his hair. “There’s no need to hate him so much, you know?”

“Says you,” Beau quipped and unzipped your jeans, eagerly pulling them off you as his mouth sucked your clavicle purple and blue. “That slimy coyote always had it out for me.”

Beau removed your panties as well, tossing them behind his shoulder where they landed in the kitchen sink. “Whoops.” He grinned charmingly but was unstoppable, freeing his throbbing dick as he shoved his jeans and boxers barely over his ass. He didn’t bother to slip out of them all the way, too impatient to wait any longer to enter you.

“Still, I’m already yours. I’ve always been yours,” you said and braced yourself on his broad shoulders as one large hand on your back pulled you closer to the edge of the table. His other hand grabbed his cock, twisting his fist along the hard, long shaft a few times before he glided his cockhead through your slick folds.

“Not always.” With one harsh thrust, he pushed inside you, your tight walls fighting to make room for him and adjust to his stretch.

You gasped at the pleasurable burn that coursed through your body and ignited every sizzling nerve. He dropped his head to your shoulder, giving both of you some time to get used to each other. You could tell you were in for a wilder ride tonight. You always loved when he fucked you rough and hard. There was something raw and animalistic about the need in his hypnotizing green eyes.

Beau then claimed your lips with one fervent kiss, enough of a spark to cause a wildfire. He met your gaze, hands gingerly cupping your cheeks. “But I love that you’re mine now. And I’m sure as hell gonna make you mine tonight, darlin’.”

You crashed your lips against his, your kisses frenzied and untamed as his hips began to slam into you. His pounds into your pussy were relentless as you swallowed every inch of him. You gripped him tight, already feeling your first orgasm bloom. It accumulated like dark, violent storm clouds on the horizon, forecasting roaring thunder and heavy rainfall.

“Oh God! Fuck, baby!” You screamed as your climax tore through you like a hurricane, your cunt gushing on his cock and pulsing around him. Your nails dug into his shoulder blades and scratched down his back as you came undone.

Beau groaned into your ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he barely held on himself. But he didn’t let up and kept up his furious pace, not ready to stop yet. “Shit, keep doing that. You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he grunted against your skin, your sensitive flesh barely withstanding his ruthless pumps. “Want you to come again, darlin’.”

With his declaration, his hand slipped between your sweat-clad bodies. You came close to losing your mind as he thumbed furiously at your clit, the stars already starting to twinkle in front of your eyes. You could feel yourself get shoved to the edge once more, staring down the steep cliffs of white-hot ecstasy.

Your mind was consumed by need, his grip on your hips bruising as you exploded. You cried out raucously, your whole body quaking in his hold upon your eruption, the aftershocks so powerful they could cause cracks in your bones.

Beau spilled his seed deep inside of you, his body stuttering in rhythm with yours as your earthquake took him down with you. Hazy gazes met each other with lazy smiles as ragged breaths mingled.

“Fuck, that was good. I think that one might make it into our Top Ten.” Beau chuckled gravelly and placed a gentle kiss on your temple.

“Hmm, not sure. We have a few greatest hits.” You giggled and bit down on your lower lip with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Can I tell you something?”

Beau cupped your cheeks, thumbs caressing the heated and rosy skin as he lifted your gaze. “Anything.”

“Just between us, you’re the best lover I ever had,” you confessed with a wide grin. The corners of his mouth rose to match yours.

“Well, between us, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. You’re it, darlin’. You know that, right? You’re the love of my life,” Beau revealed, making you smile brighter than you ever had before.

“I’m not sure about the sex, but this moment, right here, is probably gonna make it into the Top Ten,” you said softly as a few tears stung your eyes.

“Good.” Beau smiled and pecked your forehead.

The buzzing of a phone shifted your attention. You recognized it as yours, and Beau was quick to retrieve it from your jeans pocket in the pile of clothes on the floor.

“It’s Jenny,” you told him before picking up. “Hello… What?! Uh-huh, we’ll be right there.”

Beau’s brow furrowed as he watched your features flicker through an array of emotions. “Bad news?”

“Uhm, honestly, I don’t know,” you said and swallowed some of your confusion down, gathering your thoughts. “Jenny said Diane just walked into the station and gave herself up. She is ready to confess but only wants to talk to us.”

“Us? As in us two?” Beau’s eyes narrowed. You nodded. “Well, that doesn’t sound fishy at all,” he commented wryly.

“Yup, I don’t like it.”

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

A lot of revelations and foreboding in this one... 👀 Also, I just love having Beau say the word "coyotes" for some reason 😂

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @spnfamily-j2

[patrollingboston]

*turns on the megaphone*

Simon and his wifey have disaster twins!

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

Double Trouble // Simon x Reader fluff

Thank you for your request! I wanted to include their reactions to finding out as well as a glimpse into daily life for them. Hope you enjoy!

Simon and you had been married for 4 years. It wasn’t a normal marriage by any means, he was often deployed leaving you to amble through life without him by your side for most months of the year. You didn’t mind your own company, you met up with friends and family regularly, caring for yours and Simon’s cat counting down the days until he was home again. It was a quiet and lonely life at times but you understood how much his career meant to him, this was all until one specific night you and Simon shared together landing you in a hospital room at your 12-week pregnancy scan.

“You, okay?”

Simon asked, his deep voice echoing through the eerily clinicals walls as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder reassuringly. You laid on the bed, the paper scrunching up underneath your back as you waited anxiously for the Doctor to return.

“I’m alright, just a bit jittery.”

You replied giving an uncertain smile towards him, he had managed to get a few days off of work so he could accompany you to the scan. Today was the day you found out the gender of your baby, you and Simon agreed it was best to know now so you could both prepare.

“Right! We all ready in here?”

The doctor came charging back in the room pushing the thick wooden door closed behind her, she sat herself on a stool and wheeled over to you laying on the bed.

“Think so.”

You said with a smile, looking up and making eye contact with Simon. The doctor rolled up your t shirt exposing your stomach to the cold hospital air.

“Are we wanting to know if it’s a boy or girl today?”

She said, squeezing the gel onto your stomach the temperature startling you.

“Uh yes we would like to know.”

Simon spoke up his eyes fixed on the little tv screen the Doctor had wheeled over towards the two of you.

“Can you hear the heartbeat?”

The two of you nodded in sync as you heard the familiar rumble erupt from the machine before a second sounding noise adjoined it.

“What’s the other noise?”

You asked curiously, peeking your head up to get a closer look at the monitor.

“That is uh.. a second heartbeat. You are having healthy twins how wonderful! Can you see baby number 2 hidden in the back there?”

“Wait what?”

Simon said, his demeanour going from relaxed to suddenly tensing up, his grip on your shoulder becoming tighter.

“Twins, see?”

“You’re serious?”

You said now sitting up fully to inspect the monitor, half of you believed this Doctor was speaking nonsense until your eyes saw a second shadow on the tv. Feeling overwhelmed your eyes began to well up, you reached your hand up to grab Simon’s arm for support.

“Fully, would you like to know the genders?”

You both nodded once again.

“In my opinion it looks like two baby girls.”

You slapped a hand to your chest making an ‘awh’ sound, you had always wanted a daughter, now you were going to have two at once. Simon, who was not saying a word, continued to stare at the monitor in amazement.

“We are having twin girls?”

He finally spoke up, clearing his throat and turning to face you. In that moment you both felt such gratitude and shock for the news of two healthy baby girls that you both forgot about the logistics of the entire situation for a few moments.

One year later

“Si, can you bring me a tea towel she’s chucked tomato sauce in my eye.”

You yelled through the kitchen as you dabbed your face, sauce dripping down onto your t shirt as your baby Emily giggled sat in her highchair in the background.

“I can’t love, Chloe’s got a hold of my phone and won’t give it up.”

Simon yelled back from the living room sounding out of breath followed by a few crashing sounds as you assumed he was chasing Chloe round for his phone back. The twins had just learned to walk, and throw apparently causing a nightmare for the both of you.

Simon had returned from deployment a few weeks ago, he was descended straight into the chaos of raising your two twins. You stumbled blindly round the kitchen trying to find something to wipe your face on as you heard the pitter patter of feet coming towards you.

“Mama look.”

Chloe gurgled handing you what you assumed was Simon’s phone.

“What have we said about taking people’s things hey?”

You said in a sterner tone, Simon following into the kitchen behind. You handed him his phone back and he slid it back into his pocket before grabbing a square of kitchen roll and wiping your face for you.

“And you, what have we said about throwing stuff?”

He asked in a soft tone towards your daughter Emily, who was still finding the situation hilarious. He stepped over Chloe who was now playing sat on the kitchen tiles with the cat before reaching his arms out and scooping Emily up in them.

“I’m so glad to have you back Si.”

You said, exhaustion creeping throughout your brain as you rubbed your temples.

“I’ve missed my girls too.”

He said a wide smile spreading across his cheeks as he looked at his daughter placed upon his hip and then towards Chloe sat on the floor. It was a chaotic life for you two currently, but it was yours and no one else’s and you wouldn’t change it for the world.

[ashlovesrescuebots]

Hiiii I have a bit of a theory I’ve been discussing with a moot of mine and I just wanted to hear ur thoughts.

Blades either has a 0.1% spark or is abnormally strong

This may sound like a huge reach but throughout the show blades is capable of lifting abnormally heavy things other bots can’t and flying away with them. I know realistically it’s just to make it easier on the writers/story but still i think it’s an interesting concept! Here’s some examples

S1 ep3 (15:44) blades TANKS a Lightning strike and manages to land safely and then while injured scales a cliff on foot and then tries to fly again/compare this to when heatwave held a live electrical wire (which prolly had much less voltage) and had to like lie on the floor for a second (no shade to heatwave that was still hard to do).

S1 ep 15 (2:56) blades Holds up a boat from going into a trench underwater (albeit it takes all 4 bots to get it out of the ocean but nonetheless blades kept it from going in the trench by himself)

S2 ep1 (15:05) blades lifts and flies while holding all 3 rescue bots, Cody, and a MASSIVE mobile base

S3 ep 18 (18:33) blades holds up a sinking ocean oil rig to allow the bots escape

S4 ep24 (3:26) blades holds back a runaway crane Chase helps towards the end but blades mainly stops it alone

There’s definitely other instances of him doing things like this but just didn’t start writing them down until I noticed a pattern （￣□￣；) and then on top of this blades was originally a ground frame? I’m sure not all ground frames can just up and fly??? Because then they’d all do it? Maybe blades just has that extra strength to get a heavy ground frame in the air.

This kids show makes me sick i read WAYYY to into it, anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk

THIS IS SO TRUE . I probably can't say as much on the topic as others but I completely agree with you . Blades is so misunderstood on this . He is insanely strong but this isn't talked about since he's "outshined" by all the other bots . He really only acts under pressure or saving people . I one hundred percent believe he has memory loss and has experienced more then the others ( a moot @mysticfoxdesigns ) told me about that head cannon . And it makes so much sense . I believe he was built differently in some way I'm unsure what but I'm sure it's happened . I believe more people need to recognize this ! I would love it if people reblogged and gave their thoughts!

[justchillandshipit]

I admit after the episode aired, I was low-key mad at Eddie for picking on Buck. I'm not anymore. I got over it quickly, and when I say low-key, I mean mostly annoyed on Buck's behalf. I realize now that he was pretty much in character, but I have also realized that I wasn't annoyed at him for laughing. What annoyed me was that he did it with Tommy. Buck and Eddie are usually a united front; in this case, he was uniting with Tommy. Now, I can see him agreeing with Tommy and privately doing the exact same thing but less so joining forces to laugh at him together. What occupies my mind now is how some say Eddie and Tommy were friends long before Buck, including Oliver. (He may not have said "long" but he did say before, and I have thoughts on that.)

I have to somewhat disagree. Eddie met Tommy at the exact same time Buck did. The difference is Tommy cozied up to Eddie and was hitting on him before Buck had a chance to make a move. In Eddie's eyes, maybe, he was thinking it was only friendship, but there is no way Tommy is flying Eddie to Vegas to see a fight just for friendship. He was trying a little something, something and hoping for a response back. By the time he realized Buck was interested, he also realized he wasn't going to get anything other than friendship with Eddie and seemed to move on from it.

All of this was happening at the same time. There was no Eddie and Tommy friendship before and even though they do have some semblance of one at the moment, I just can't believe that Eddie isn't feeling jealousy. (I realize I can't prove this at the moment, but I still believe it.) Eddie knows he doesn't have the right to be jealous because he isn't even being honest about his own identity, so he knows he needs to make a bigger effort to be friends with his best friend's boyfriend. It is by no means the same type of friendship he would have with Tommy if Buck weren't dating him.

I can't see him and Tommy flying to Vegas now without Buck. In fact, I don't see him and Tommy hanging out when Buck isn't around. Why? Well, you don't just hangout with the boyfriend of your friend in their absence. There isn't a rule against it, but it would be bad form to do so. (IMO) So the short version of my point is that Eddie has a friendship with Tommy that is based on his connection with Buck. The type of regular friendship he might have developed with Tommy (platonic) if Buck never got between them stopped the moment that happened. The writers and actors may be saying there was a friendship long before, but that has not been demonstrated through the writing. I suspect that all of this friendship talk is supposed to clarify that Eddie is not going to be the problem in Buck and Tommy's relationship. Tim has said previously that he wants this to be a positive experience for Buck so even when a breakup does happen, it isn't going to be something that prevents a casual friendship.

This is the end of my TED talk.

[starchaseriseverything]

James looks at Regulus' beautiful sunlit face. The sun is rising, and birds are chirping. It's the best day ever.

James resists the urge to kiss down Regulus' body until he wakes up. Instead, he gets dressed and shuts Regulus' door behind him.

James hears a door open at the other end of the hall. He turns toward the sound slowly and sees one of his best friends. He lets out a breath. It's not Sirius. Thank god.

James thinks for a minute.

That's Sirius' room.

Remus just came out of Sirius' room.

James laughs quietly. "I knew it." He whispers. "I fucking knew it."

"Shut up, James." Remus says, stalking over to him.

James smiles. "I knew it."

"What are you doing here?"

"Everyone already knows. It's obvious."

"Sirius doesn't."

Another door opens. Alice? James smiles in victory. "Knew it."

James and Marlene talk every week and when they start to get suspicious of someone, they take guesses to who their shagging.

Apparently, so far, James has got them right. Alice and Narcissa, Remus and Sirius, Mary and Lily, and even Dorcas and Marlene. He couldn't believe he got that one.

"You knew what?" Alice asks.

"I knew that you were shagging Cissa."

Alice rolls her eyes and walks over to them. "You're both standing in front of Regulus' door. I'm assuming James is the one shagging him and Remus is shagging Sirius." James eyes go wide. "It's obvious."

"Fair enough." Another door opens, and out comes Emmeline Vance, a Ravenclaw. "Emmeline Vance. Nice to see you." Emmeline turns around so fast that James thought she had to have had whiplash. "Pandora? Really?"

Emmeline Smirks. "No, don't even start that sentence." Remus says, holding his hand up to stop her.

They hear footsteps around the corner, and before they could hide, Ted comes into view. "My god." Emmeline says. "Andromeda. Definitely."

"Yeah, definitely." James replies, agreeing with her.

"My god. I thought you were Orion and Walburga." Ted says startled.

"Good for you, we're not." Alice says. She pauses. "Good for us too."

"What are you all doing here?" A voice asks. Rita.

"No way!" Emmeline shouts.

"Shut up." James says.

"Sorry."

"Bellatrix. You're shagging Bella." James smiles. "Marls owes me so much gallons."

"Can we not?" Another voice sounds. Barty.

"I'm even more rich." James says proudly.

"How good are you at guessing?" Alice asks.

"Pretty good, actually. I even guessed Marls and Cas."

"Damn." Barty says, surprised.

Multiple doors open, and Evan, Pandora, Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda come out in the hallway. "What is going on?" Bellatrix asks.

Pandora smiles. "Panda? What are you smiling about?" Her brother, Evan, asks.

"Nothing."

James purses his lips. "Yeah, I'm gonna go before Siri comes out. Right Al?"

"Yep, coming."

Narcissa grabs Alice' arm. "Not so fast. We're going back in. Yeah?"

While Alice is debating, James hears another door open but doesn't see which one. "Mon soleil?" Regulus asks. "Holy shit."

James turns around and sees his boyfriend. "Hey, mi estrella."

"What is going on?"

Barty smiles. "Sirius is about to come out any minute."

Sure enough, Sirius comes out of his room. "Mon crossiant de lune?" Sirius looks around. "Alice!? James!?"

Alice purses her lips. "I'll take you up on that offer now." She says to her girlfriend, and they go back in Narcissa' room.

"What the fuck?"

Remus walks over to Sirius and starts pushing him slowly back in his room. "Let's go back in, fy nghariad."

Sirius grumbles, turns around to go back in, and stops. "We will talk about this later, Prongs." They go back in.

"So, that happened." Pandora says.

"I say we do the same and go back in our rooms, yeah?" Emmeline says.

They all agree and go back in. "Come on, mon soleil." Regulus says.

"I should really go."

Regulus starts kissing up James' jaw line. He stops. "Are you sure?"

James grumbles and drags his boyfriend back in the room.

[maxdibert]

oh more of sirius-bellatrix and regulus-narcissa parallels please! andromeda is also an interesting character for me sometimes i wonder as she was someone that grew up in such household what if she happened to fall in love with another pureblood would she be another ‘narcissa’? and a lot of people always automatically assume that before the marriage just like sirius that she was not a pureblood supremacist because she married a muggle-born but what if she was someone that somehow still aligned with the black family’ views but with ted tonks ‘he’s an exception’ but ‘rebellious’ enough to leave her privileges and then able to grow to changed her view after the 1st war and experiencing life with her family(tonks)

I honestly don’t think Andromeda was like Sirius. I also can’t really say how she was or how I imagine her because we know so little about her, but considering that she was in Slytherin, I’d say she probably didn’t have many issues with her family until she decided to marry Ted Tonks. Maybe she didn’t completely agree with her family’s ideas, or maybe she had never considered that blood supremacy was wrong until she started a relationship with Ted. Personally, I prefer this latter version, where she was probably a somewhat alienated person but without very strong convictions, therefore more open to other opinions, and that by meeting and falling in love with Ted, she made a decision. It fits much better with the role of the middle sister between two sisters with very strong personalities, while she had a softer one. But this is pure personal headcanon.

As for the parallel between the cousins, I’ve always thought Sirius has a lot in common with Bellatrix. Both are characters with extremely strong temperaments who hate with a passion and love in an obsessive way. Their feelings blind them. Bellatrix develops a personality marked by quite evident mental instability, which I believe stems first from her fanaticism and later from her years in prison, but her absolute loyalty to Voldemort and that obsession to please and go to the end for the person she holds as her reference is very similar to Sirius’s behavior with James, although Sirius does it in a less corrosive way. Sirius (like his cousin) is completely blinded by the memory of the person to whom he swore loyalty and fidelity. He committed to James in a platonic way, with James being his moral compass and at the same time the person he identified as his new family. Just as Bellatrix sees the Death Eaters as part of herself, the place where she belongs, Sirius does the same with James and everything he represents (the Marauders, the Order, Harry), and he does it in a visceral and totally irrational way that doesn’t heed any kind of coherent reasoning. At the end of the day, Sirius is a dog, and as a dog, he will follow his master to the grave and bite anyone he sees as a threat. To me, Bellatrix represents that darker and corrupted side of the Blacks, that vision of themselves as aristocrats with rights over the rest of the mortals—not just from a social perspective, like Narcissa, but also from a militant one. She is willing to kill and be killed for her ideals, just as Sirius is willing to kill and be killed for his. Both are aggressive, violent, and display a resentful and quite volatile, uncontrollable character. Only Voldemort can control Bellatrix, just as probably only James could control Sirius. They only obey their masters because they don’t recognize any other figure of authority. After all, they are both the eldest siblings.

In the case of Narcissa and Regulus, both are the youngest, and both are on the same side. But they not only coincide ideologically, but also in how they approach their political tendencies. Narcissa embodies the aristocracy that lives in a bubble and simply moves to maintain that bubble of privilege. She has been taught certain values that she doesn’t question, but she also doesn’t have an actively militant or bellicose attitude. She opines from the comfort of her home and is fine with others doing the work to uphold those values. She has a passive attitude, which I also see in Regulus, who probably joined the Death Eaters simply because it was expected of him and because he hadn’t questioned too much the extent to which his decisions might have consequences. Just like Narcissa, both are nobles who feel untouchable and don’t expect the course of events to turn against them. But it does. The events lead them to feel threatened and realize that the game of politics has consequences for everyone, and they are no exception—they aren’t immune to the war. And it’s at that moment that they see that something precious to them could be taken away by those who represent the values they once believed were in their favor. They don’t question their beliefs; they simply oppose those who represent them for strictly personal reasons. Neither Narcissa nor Regulus stop being who they are; they’ve always advocated for an individualistic view of the world, and when things individually go against them, they choose to act to come out as unscathed as possible and preserve what matters to them.

I really enjoy thinking about the dynamics of dysfunctional families because there are always parallels between their members, no matter how much they hate, distance themselves from, or separate from each other. It’s inevitable because, in the end, blood calls to blood.

[carriedawatermelon]

Just saw the Ronancetober prompts, so here’s some T-rated Ronance. Heads up, this involves non-specific homophobia from Ted Wheeler (he’s dead here) but is almost entirely about Nancy being loved very deeply, as she deserves.

Prompt: Ghost

Steve’s kids call her Auntsy, a blend his oldest, Robin, had proudly stuttered from her high chair when Steve pointed to Nancy and asked, in his dad voice, “Who’s that, Robbie?”

“Auntsy, Auntsy!”

His wife, Melissa, lovely and kind, caught it on video, along with Steve’s attempts to stifle his laughter and Robin’s cackle in the background. Nancy, for her part, had simply clapped and said, “That’s right, darling. So smart.” With an eyebrow to her partner and Steve, she’d turned to the camera and said, “All you, Melissa. Clearly.” 

“Clearly,” she’d agreed. 

The name stuck, all five little Harringtons writing birthday cards and calling to give updates to their Auntsy. 

Four of the five young Harringtons proceed through the line now, giving her big hugs and whispering variations of, “I’m really sorry, Auntsy.” She hugs them and thanks them and loves them and sends them all to eat something. “We’re here, Nance, whatever you need,” Melissa says, the end of the Harrington line. “Steve and Robin are going to stay to help after, and I can come back too, once I get everyone settled at home.”

“Thanks, Mel.”

“We love you,” she says seriously, big brown eyes on Nancy before they make their way around the room with a barely concealed scowl. “And if you want to leave…”

Nancy smiles at her and hugs her again. “I love you,” she says. “I’m okay. I promise.”

“Mmm,” she says, squeezing Nancy’s hands. “You’re a saint, is what you are.” Leo and Allie, the two youngest, are in a conversation that looks to be quickly approaching a fight, and Mel sighs and gives her an apologetic look. 

“Go,” Nancy says. 

“I have so much wine for you at home,” she says with a kiss to her cheek. 

The smile that breaks across Nancy’s face is real, even though she’s exhausted, and it seems good enough for Mel, who has her arms around two sets of little shoulders, bent and whispering furiously, so fast that Nancy can hardly process it. 

Robin’s handling logistics, eyes on Nancy every few minutes, a hand against the small of her back anytime she passes and Nancy isn’t in the middle of talking with someone. She’s a hero. Nancy wants nothing more than to curl up against her in their bed and tell her so. She tries to convey her gratitude now, eyes catching Robin’s, and by the way Robin’s mouth turns up at one side, the way she winks, Nancy thinks she gets it. 

“You fell for a real nerd.” It’s the fifth little Harrington, working her way into a hug. She’s got more than six inches on Nancy, finally surpassing her namesake last summer. “I’m really sorry, Auntsy,” she whispers into the space near Nancy’s ear, and Nancy holds her tight for a moment, this human she’s loved since before she was born. 

“Dad went to help R1,” she says when they pull apart, coming to stand beside Nancy and leaning into her. “What can I do?”

Nancy catches sight of Steve with his arms around Robin, feels gratitude and affection bubble in her chest. This has been a shit time for Robin, too. The thing that almost made Nancy step away entirely, actually, except her perfect nerd had looked her dead in the eye and told her that they could all fuck off, that she would do exactly what Nancy wanted and anyone else could “eat shit, Nance. I’m absolutely serious.” Nancy loves her profoundly. 

“Being here is a big help.” At Robin’s raised eyebrow, she shakes her head, smiles. “Don’t try that with me. I taught you that. I’m serious. There’s nothing right now. Robbie’s got logistics, Mike stepped out for a smoke and Holly’s with Mom getting her kids situated, but they’ll both be back soon. It’s more than enough that you’re here.” Wrapping an arm around her, she lets her voice be tired as she says, “It’s a big help. Believe me.”

Robin wraps her own arm around Nancy, and watches, mouth turning down, as a series of mourners walk past Nancy like she’s not there. When Mike shows up a few minutes later, and Holly a few minutes after that, people begin to wander over, Nancy getting a nod or nothing at all more often than not. Holly, bless her, always tries to correct. “You remember my sister, Nancy,” and Mike, true to character, waffles between ignorance and a deep scowl. Nancy can’t blame him, really. It’s a rough day. 

“Auntsy, it looks like they need you,” Robin says loud enough for Mike and Holly to hear. They wave her away, and Nancy tries not to ache at the relief Holly can’t quite hide. 

Robin directs her to the kitchen area and then walks them both right through it and out into one of the courtyards, small and quiet in the cold of Indiana November. “Wait,” she says, and a minute or two later appears in her coat with Nancy’s in her hands. Nancy shrugs it on, and Robin guides her to one of the little benches near an empty fountain. 

“God, that was bullshit,” she huffs, looking so much like her dad that for a minute Nancy sees him there, patented indignation and furrowed brow. “Sorry,” she says with a wince. “Shit, sorry. I probably shouldn’t have just dragged you away like that. I just…they’re awful. And Mike and Holly are literally no help, like what the actual fuck? These people are walking around you like you’re a fucking ghost at your dad’s funeral.” She takes a breath, such a blend of the people Nancy’s loves, and grimaces. “Sorry. Again.”

Nancy doesn’t try to hold her amusement back, feeling lighter than she has all day, smile tugging at her mouth. “Well, college has really given you quite the vocabulary.” 

Robin groans and Nancy laughs, nudges her arm with her shoulder. 

“You know, I was always going to love you. No matter how you turned out. Part of the aunt gig. But you really are one of my very favorite people, you know that, Robin Harrington?”

Robin blushes like Melissa, whole face coloring, and she presses back against Nancy as she says, “Yeah, well, you’re one of mine, too. I can’t believe someone so cool dated my dad.”

Nancy laughs again. “Your mom’s very cool.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robin concedes. “Well done, dad, I guess.”

She kicks at the gravel with her worn Docs, paired unrepentantly with her black tights and long sleeved black dress, and looks over at Nancy. 

“It’s okay,” Nancy says. “You can ask, if you want.”

She does, quietly. “Auntsy. Why are you here? Why are you doing so much for him when he…when he…”

“I don’t know,” she says honestly, smiling at the look of surprise on Robin’s face. “You know, they called me first. He and Mom are officially divorced, and I’m the oldest daughter, so. Next of kin. They had no way of knowing we hadn’t spoken in fifteen years, and I’ve always been…Robbie once called me Emergency Barbie.”

“Yikes,” Robin says with a snort.

“Mmm. She meant it as a compliment. We were young. She was, as she told me later, an absolute idiot over me.”

“Yeah, well good to know some things don’t change.” 

Robin Harrington’s eye roll is on that list, and Nancy tells her so, gets another one for her efforts. 

“Anyway, I fell into it, into the organizing, into the doing, and suddenly I was the one speaking with the funeral director and picking dates and talking to the preacher.”

The preacher, who’d asked Nancy what she’d loved about her father in some well-intentioned attempt to write a personal sermon and had only forced Nancy into a corner. “He was a great driver,” she’d said, and instead of understanding that as the flashing red light that it was, the signal that not all had been well, the preacher had included that in his sermon, along with Holly’s fond reflection on his sense of humor and Mike’s generic sports stories. 

Robin had squeezed her hand and tried valiantly to bury her laugh in a cough, while Nancy had flushed bright red and fought tears. 

“You’ve got two siblings,” Robin says pointedly. “Two siblings who still talked to him. For some reason.”

“I do.” Nancy confirms, with a gentle hand to Robin’s knee. The vicious, unyielding loyalty is more precious than she’ll ever be able to tell her, but she never, ever wants Robin carrying her burdens. “And I made the choice to do it anyway.” 

This is where she straddles the line between recognizing that her niece is a young adult and still her niece. She doesn’t tell her that if she’d left it to Mike there would’ve been no service at all, which might’ve been fine, on reflection, but didn’t feel like it at the time. She doesn’t tell her that Holly has young kids and still treats Nancy like a third parent even as she pushes her away. She doesn’t tell her that she’ll always be their big sister, Ted and Karen’s oldest, and that means something that Steve and Melissa have tried to make sure it doesn’t mean for Robin. She certainly doesn’t tell her that she might always feel the need to show she’s good enough, better than good enough, or that this is in some ways her last fuck you to her father, his dyke daughter the only one willing and able to do this for him. 

“Yeah, no.” Robin’s not having it. “They’re grown ups. Not saying you didn’t have a choice, or whatever, but whatever the fuck’s going on in there is totally ridiculous, especially because they let you do all the work.”

“It’s complicated,” she concedes, and thinks of the days she used to sit with her dad and read the newspaper, the smiles that became rarer and rarer as she got older, the way Holly didn’t seem to grow out of his affection the same way. 

“I’m sorry,” Robin says. “I don’t mean to make it worse.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” She hugs her, and Robin makes herself smaller, tucks her face into Nancy’s neck. “You didn’t. You have made this day so much better. Thank you.”

“It was his loss.” Her voice is wavering, and Nancy holds her tighter, tears pricking at her own eyes. “He missed out on one of the best people in the world. I’m sorry, Auntsy. I’m sorry he didn’t do better.”

“I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, too.”

Robin finds them there a few minutes later, little Robin talking through her course selection with Nancy, matching frowns of concentration on their faces. 

“Big bird,” she says with a nod to Robin and doing a terrible job of concealing the worry in her voice. “Love of my life,” she says, bending to kiss Nancy’s forehead and ignoring Robin’s retching noise. “It’s cold and the service is about to start.” 

Robin scoots closer to Nancy, and her other aunt fits herself onto the seat with them, linking her fingers with Nancy’s along the back of the bench. 

“Do you want to go back inside?” 

Nancy considers, has no interest in feeling like a ghost, in feeling the presence of any others. “No,” she says, and both Robins grin. 

“Understood. Give me five.” She presses a kiss to Nancy’s lips this time, and Robin gives a long suffering sigh but she’s smiling when Nancy looks over to her. 

Five minutes later, the rest of the Harrington crew arrives carrying hot chocolate. “It’s the shitty church kind,” Steve says, and Melissa rolls her eyes. “But at least they’re the ones with marshmallows, and I stole the coffee supplies to make it with milk, so.” He presses a cup into Nancy’s hands and then kisses her head, does the same to little Robin. 

“I brought cookies,” Robin says, triumphant from the doorway to the fellowship hall a minute later, and Nancy’s pretty sure the delighted cries of the kids can be heard at the service, but she can’t bring herself to care. 

She finds herself sandwiched between her favorite Robins, Melissa scooting another bench close while Steve starts a game of soccer on the grass outside the courtyard with the younger kids. 

“Need anything?” Robin says quietly, while Melissa and little Robin chat about dinner plans. 

“You,” she says, kissing Robin’s flushing cheek.

“My god.” 

“Oh, hush,” Melissa says. “Have you told your aunts about how the front porch swing broke?”

“She has not,” Nancy says, linking her arm through her Robin’s and settling back into her. “But she was telling me about her spring class schedule and her summer plans.”

Little Robin smiles gratefully, and Robin oooohs. “I wanna know! You know I love a class schedule.” 

The two of them start in, and Nancy closes her eyes and lets herself be. 

[utilitycaster]

Assuming Laudna will open up to Imogen about killing Bor’dor/Delilah possibly still lingering, I wonder if it will cause friction between them. I don’t know why it would but maybe I just want drama between them to make them interesting to me lol. Anyway, It is gonna be interesting to see how the bells interacts after this cause they all have had some growth and regression. You know what I mean? 

So I agree that the reunion is going to be really interesting. While I actually think the parties are on roughly the same page (though Imogen and Laudna might not be; Imogen is still kind of a lone holdout on "but what if I don't care about the gods") they did have wildly different experiences, and I do love drama.

Here's my opinion: I don't actually think Team Issylra regressed. I think there's a very common false equivalence of violence=regression that pops up in the fandom, and I think it's 100% wrong given the setting and genre conventions.

I'm reminded actually of a lot of discussion about the Ted Lasso finale a few weeks ago - there's a good post here, the gist of which is that sometimes a part of recovery is looking less happy. Laudna's entire deal is that she compartmentalizes and suppresses and tells herself it's all uphill from here. Orym has heard multiple people - people who like him, even, who'd consider him a friend or ally - openly say the group that murdered his husband and father-in-law who was basically a father to him and who used his leader (whom he's sworn to protect and who said husband and father-in-law died protecting) as nothing more than bait might have some good points, and he's mostly kept quiet. Even Ashton, who has been in somewhat better shape this arc, believed himself to be undeserving of anything good.

So yeah, Laudna might possibly have reawakened Delilah, but she's actually letting herself experience some emotions and talk about them. It's a pretty major step forward that she's spent so much time admitting to anger and fear, and her feelings about betrayal, and crying on Ashton's shoulder instead of constantly pretending everything is totally fine so that she can be the shoulder to Imogen. Orym's moment with the locket is not, to me, an act of cruelty. It's him saying "why do I keep trying to understand and sparing the feelings of people who never once gave me that grace, and who will use me or murder me without a second thought?" And while Ashton isn't immediately running to Hishari right now because, understandably, they are prioritizing the reunion and stopping the Vanguard, their moment about realizing this is anger and the past was self-pity feels like a breakthrough. He's confronting that past (speaking of false equivalences, there's a similarly common one of "choosing to go along with the main party-wide plot instead of one's own specific hooks=avoidance") and is letting himself whole-heartedly support the party after spending years refusing to have friends because friends leave.

Team Issylra is in the messy part of growth, but they've grown immensely, and that's actually the biggest thing I want to see Team Wildemount respond to.