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

[starmocha]

I have no friends that play lads and after the trailer with Caleb my mind is in ruins and all i can think is arranged marriage between Colonel Caleb and his general's daughter. Ughh the tension and the dramaaaaa.

Thats it, thats all i had to say, thank you for coming to my ted talk (i really needed to yap about that to someone) 😂😂😂😂😂

🥹 Anon~ come back. Let's chat some more. I'll entertain all of your Caleb brainrots 🫶 You should also know that I saw this message this afternoon while I was out shopping.......the high-pitched gasp I had let out in public, because why is this right up my alley 😭😭😭 Ok I originally thought out like the whole situation in bullet points, but writing this one scene gotten out of control, because why did I get so into it, so I guess...consider this a snippet of sorts (it's kind of messy, but I was rushing)? 🫣 (or should I polish this up and repost it as an actual fic? I'm really digging this premise, if I'm honest 🤔)

You didn't have a say.

You didn't agree to this marriage. The General—your father, you remind yourself, often feeling emotionally estranged from the man who has never once raised you, viewing you as secondary to his military career—has arranged for you to wed his colonel.

Colonel Caleb. He is young, ambitious, and with a bright future ahead of him. He will rise through the ranks quickly, many believe. No one is surprised that the young man is betrothed to the general's daughter. It seems only right that such an esteemed union should happen, bringing two honorable families together.

You didn't have a say.

The General—your father, you correct yourself again, your nerves getting the best of you—is walking you down the aisle, his arm looped around yours—tightly. The organ is playing the Wedding March. Why does it sound like a dirge?

All eyes are on you, the blushing bride in her beautiful pristine white, lacy long-sleeved demure wedding gown. You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want to wear this dress. You didn’t want to wear this style. This isn’t you.

You didn't have a say.

The guests are all part of the military. You don't know these people. They're the General's—Father's—acquaintances. His peers, his colleagues. Subordinates and superiors. They are all acquaintances of his. Who are these strangers?

"Don't mess this up," he whispers under his breath as you approach your waiting groom, dressed in his most formal uniform for this nuptial. This is his only fatherly advice as he gives his one daughter's hand away—to a man she doesn't even know.

You don't have a say.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch. You didn't look at your groom, or rather, you barely registered the man in front of you. You had moved through the motion, did everything you were supposed to, just like in the pre-rehersal ceremony, but you weren't there. It was like your mind had slipped away, and your body was just moving along on autopilot.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest declares.

Your mind returns, and you still when he kisses you. There is cheering and applause. You aren't happy. Is he happy?

You close your eyes, just letting this happen. It will be over soon. Just let it happen.

You don't have a say.

His arm loops through yours, leading you back down the aisle. There is more cheering and applause, and as you leave the church, the sun shines brightly on your marriage, and flower petals are tossed in the air, raining down over you and your groom.

There is so much joy and congratulations. Why then does it feel like the end of the world?

You don't respond, your face unwittingly tucking away into his arm as he leads you away for the wedding reception.

You don't even remember the reception. Did it even happen? Did you eat? Danced? Were there speeches or well-wishes? What did the wedding cake taste like?

You don't remember.

It was mid-afternoon when you had left the church, but now suddenly nightfall came without warning. How did that happen?

You exit a car, your hand in his.

This is a hotel. Right. A hotel.

It's your wedding night. A marriage is consummated on the wedding night. That is how it typically goes.

You have to consummate your marriage. You have to...sleep with your newly-wedded husband. Your husband. Caleb.

You didn't want to consummate this marriage. You didn't even want to get married. But you couldn't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this, and now, you know you also couldn't say no to him.

You don't have a say.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, you notice, as he holds yours, silently guiding you to your honeymoon suite.

Every step, every action, brings you closer to that moment. You barely register anything, not even hearing the beep when Caleb swipes the key card on the digital lock of the suite.

You're led into an extravagant suite. There is a vase of red roses and champagne chilling in an ice bucket, all courtesy of the hotel.

Still, you don't feel like you are in the moment, being completely lost in your head. You have to sleep with him. You didn’t want to marry him. You don't want to be married. You don't want to sleep with him. You don't want him.

You don't have a say.

He pours you a glass of champagne. You drink it, hoping it will calm your nerves. It doesn't. You feel like you are slipping, thoughts running haywire.

"You look very beautiful," he says, his hand brushing away the loose strands of hair that framed your face. His hand cups your face, his lips on yours before you even realize what is happening.

He sets the glasses to the side, taking you to bed. You sit on the edge next to him, his lips on yours again. You're not responding. He stills, but just for a moment. Did he notice? He continues, his lips along your neck, his hand reaching behind you for the zipper of your wedding dress.

You feel a chill.

He undresses you, lays you on the bed, completely exposed to him. You're not registering anything, breathing shuddering as he looms over you, slowly undressing himself now.

This is happening. You can't say no. Just go with it. It will all be over soon. Just do your duties. Just drift away, and it will all end soon.

He leans down and kisses you again, and you don't respond. His hands explores you, and you close your eyes, trying to think of anything but this moment. You don't even realize that you are tensing until he stops.

"You're...crying?"

You gasp, eyes opening in shock when he brushes your tears away. He looks hurt. Why?

He kisses your forehead. "We don't have to do this," he reassures you.

You don't understand. This is expected. You can't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this. You can't say no to him either.

"We...don't?" You find your voice, as small and scared as it was.

There is so much sadness in his eyes. Why?

He smiles. There is no joy. He smiles and shakes his head.

"But...I...have...to....we have to..."

He is confused. "Says who?"

Is he really expecting an actual response? You feel lost and confused.

"Every...everyone," you answer him.

He huffs and shakes his head again. "We don't have to," he says again. "I won't force myself on you if you're uncomfortable."

"But...we are married—"

"We are married," he says firmly, "You are my wife, and I am your husband. What happens—or doesn't happen—behind closed doors is our business. Not anyone else's."

But people will talk. Time will pass, and people will start wondering why you aren't pregnant yet. That is how it goes, right? First comes marriage and then comes the baby carriage, or however the fuck it's supposed to go. You have to go through with this, the whole nine yards, or people will talk.

The military is full of secrets, but rumors will still snake their way throughout until it reaches your father. If he knows, he will blame you for embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. For being a worthless daughter who couldn't do this one thing right.

You have no say in this. You can rebel all you want, but he will always make you cower in the end and bend to his will, just like how this marriage has happened.

"We have to," you tell Caleb, surprising him, "I'm...I'm okay with this."

You gasp when he pulls you up and into his arms, your face pressed to his chest. His hand is big, you think again, feeling it stroking the back of your head, but you also realize it is so gentle. He is so much bigger than you, can easily overpower and overwhelm you, but he doesn't.

He is so, so gentle with you. Why?

You don't even realize you had started crying, your body trembling against his, until he asks, "Are you scared of me?"

And you pause, breathing still shaky.

He continues to rub the back of your head. He sighs suddenly, and he whispers into your hair, "You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"It’s...not you," you say eventually, still unsure if you were being completely truthful with him. "It’s..."

You falter, unsure of where your fears truly lie. Him? The Gener—Father? Or...everything?

He shushes you again. "Don't worry about anyone else. Just trust me."

You look up hesitantly, your tears blurring your vision. He brushes away those tears.

You're looking at him. Truly looking at him for the first time.

His eyes are violet, you realize suddenly. They are so pretty.

"I'll protect you," he promises, "I'll keep you safe, so please....please don't be scared of me."

[imaginingmanyfandoms]

don't shut me out - jaime tartt x kent!reader

part 2 to - worlds worst brother

summary; you've been ignoring roy, jamie helps roy fix things

Roy'd been iced out since the argument between you and him. Or rather since him yelling at you.

Jamie had acted completely normal during training, both with the team and one on one, but would go silent if Roy so much as hinted about asking about you. Jamie was giving him nothing and it was killing him. You were worse, completely ignoring him. His calls, his texts, wouldn't answer the door if he knocked.

Everyone was on edge around Roy. He was acting like a cornered animal, barking at anyone who got too close. Even made Ted falter before approaching him.

He couldn't stand you just being... gone. Roy fucking loved you guys, his sisters and Phoebe came before everyone, he'd give up anything for you guys at the drop of the hat. He just got mad when he saw Jamie in your room, Jamie didn't deserve to be in your room. Roy knows first hand what it's like to be the footballer in some girls' room. He just couldn't handle his emotions about it.

But a full week of you ignoring him gave him all the perspective he needed. He could tolerate Jamie, at least that little prick would be too scared to do anything to hurt you, if not anything else at least the fear of repercussions.

So as Roy stood in the locker room, arms crossed as Beard explained something new they were going to try at training today, he was just thinking about what he was going to say to you when he could finally get ahold of you. The team starting to get up and head to the pitch is what brought him back down to Earth.

"Jaime, hang back," he said, uncrossing his arms. Jamie looked hesitant, but did it anyway. A few stragglers looked on, wondering what was happening between the two now. Surprisingly, even though you and Jamie had agreed to stop hiding your relationship, Jamie had kept it tight lipped still, until you'd been able to sort things out with your brother.

"Look, if this about football I'm all ears, if it's about anything else I'd rather go with the team," Jamie said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder where the lads had gone out. "We shouldn't bring this stuff here, y'know, ain't proper."

"And who's fault is that, prick?"

Jamie frowns. "This is why she didn't want to tell ya." Jamie starts to leave, and Roy feels his breath catch in his throat.

"No, wait, you're right, I'm sorry," Roy chokes on the words but gets them out anyway.

Jamie stops. Turns. And squints at Roy, as if trying to decide whether he believes him or not. "It was never just fooling around, you know. I was always serious abou' 'er." Jamie crosses his arms, "And she wouldn't have even been sneakin if she thought there was another option."

Roy has to look away, just seeing Jamie and knowing what you two get up to behind closed doors grosses him out. He remembers the hickeys across Jamie's chest and has to close his eyes. Roy grunts, unable to think of the right thing to say.

"She almost broke up with me you know, that night," Jamie says, voice quiet as if the memory alone hurt him, Roy's seen Jamie vulnerable before, but this was different. "Same night we said I love you for the first time she almost broke up with me, scared the fuckin' daylights out of me. I had to convince her that it was okay for us to be happy together and that you would come 'round to it." Jamie crosses his arms. "So fuckin' get around to it."

"I'm trying," Roy says, guilty and frustrated, "but she won't even talk to me."

"Yeah, I know," Jamie whispers, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been tellin' 'er to call ya back, but I don't want to push my luck, scared she'll kick me out of bed."

"Please, Jamie," Roy groans, "fuck! I can't fix it if I can't talk to her."

"I should really get out there..." Jamie looks over his shoulder at the door. "But maybe you overheard me tellin' Isaac that I made reservations at seven at her favourite restaurant."

Roy doesn't say anything, just nods, and Jamie finally heads out to training without looking back.

"Jamie," you whined, holding his hand over the console of his car. "What if the paps see us, this is a popular spot."

"I thought we were gunna come out with it, love." He pulls your hand up to his face to pepper sweet kisses along your knuckles. "We don't have to hide away anymore."

"What if Roy thinks I'm shoving our relationship in his face?"

"Let's just focus on us for tonight, hmm? Focus on me and you going on a little dinner date without having to drive half an hour just to be out of sight of our friends? Isn't that a good thing?"

"It is," you relent, "it's so good. I don't want to feel like a secret anymore."

"Neither do I," he says, placing one more dramatic kiss against your hand, "so let's go be normal and have supper, yeah?"

"Okay," you say, "I love you."

Jamie smiles so wide it takes the unease right out of your mind. "Fuck, love, I'll never get tired of hearin' you say that. I love you too."

And he gets out of the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you, holding your hand to help you out of it, and guides you to the door with a gentle hand on your lower back.

"Ah, Mr. Tartt, welcome. Your table is ready, and your guest has already arrived. Follow me please," the maître d said, guiding the two of you to a nice table in the back.

"Who's the guest?" you whisper, leaning more into Jamie's side.

His hand on your back remains there, comforting and supportive. "Don't be mad," is his only reply, and you see why when Roy is sitting at the table, fiddling awkwardly with the collar of his shirt, like it was too tight around his neck.

As Jamie pulls out your chair for you, you hesitate to sit down, looking between the two of them with a frown. Jamie just smiles reassuringly, taking your hand in his and leading you to take your seat.

"Please," Roy says before anyone else can speak. "Let's just talk. You promised me we'd have a sit down with your new boyfriend, and here we are."

"I don't want you to yell at me in public," you say, voice low and worried, and Roy's heart breaks all over again, just at the thought of you thinking of him like that.

"I won't yell," he promises, "I just want to apologize and talk to you both, okay?"

You nod, and don't say anything. Jamie's mouth forms an uncomfortable smile, and orders wine for the table when the waiter comes by the first time.

"Look, I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it." Roy shakes his, eyes cast downwards, afraid to see anymore sadness on your face. He's supposed to pummel anyone that hurts you, and he's the cause of it this time. "I love you, you have to know that by now. I was just, it caught me really off guard, yeah? And it hurt me to find him sneaking around and I couldn't handle is so I lashed out at you, but I didn't mean it. I could never be tired of you, ever. We're best friends, right? I'm your big brother, I'm supposed to be a prick about who you're dating. Especially when you're dating a prick."

You smile a little, but you also kick him under the table. He laughs, "and you're my little sister. You're supposed to drive me to the edge and date the worst guys."

"I'm right here," Jamie says, scoffing. "This apology to her is insulting to me."

"You'll be fine," you and Roy say at the time.

"Where is that wine?" Jamie asks, looking over his shoulder. "I'm bein' ganged up on."

"I love you, and I'm sorry."

"I love you too Roy," you say reaching across the table to grab his hand. He squeezes back, smiling. "And I love Jamie." Roy's smile drops. "And if you're not going to be okay with that then I don't know what to do."

"I'll be fine," Roy says, squeezing your hand again. "What matters is that he makes you happy, that's... that's all I care about."

You let go of Roy's hand, and slide over to grab Jamie's, the two of you sharing a dopey, love sick smile. "He does."

"But if I ever see another hickey on either of you I'll kill you both." Roy crosses his arms. "Please, don't ever shut me out like that again, if you're mad at me, yell at me. But don't just disappear, okay?" Roy's eyes held sadness, and you nod your head. "And you," he points to Jamie, "are never, ever allowed to talk about your sex life in any way, shape, or form in the locker room. I don't care if I'm in my office or fucking Canada, not a word."

"Not a word," Jamie says nodding his head thoughtfully, "no matter how fuckin' great of a sex life it is."

Roy's eye twitches. You hit Jamie in the arm.

[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!)

[frostedsugarcookiehearts]

but i miss... (screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain)

୨ৎ

"guess that lady had wisdom beyond her years, 'cause that bernie's place was pretty good." schlatt huffed begrudgingly as you two sat in the lobby of the diner, waiting for your guys's uber. it was raining hard outside (it hadn't rained in weeks, and schlatt was really starting to believe that the universe had a plot against him).

your face lit up. "right? what a good omen that we found her. maybe the universe is looking out for us."

he blinked at you. out of all the things that happened today, you saw those things as blessings? they seemed more like inconveniences to him, but he could say something for your ability to make everything more chipper. it's something, one of the things, he liked most about you.

"maybe it is," he hummed, glancing around. he points to a random gift shop. "wanna wait out the rain over there?"

"you're the boss," you quip, grinning from ear to ear as the two of you ran through the rain, giggling as you panted, making your way inside the giftshop. you two stalked the shelves of the giftshop, trying to see if there were any cool trinkets while you waited for your uber (who was taking so long at this point you assumed he was on foot.)

a grin crossed schlatt's face as his eyes fell upon a weird little figurine. "hey, look at this little guy." he flicked it, chuckling to himself. he glanced to his side to see if you were still there, but you'd disappeared! "hey, LA?" he called your nickname, getting increasingly worried as he checked every aisle.

eventually, he found you, cooing over a little stuffed bear. "it's simba!" you chirped, hugging the stuffed toy to your chest. "from, from—"

"—the lion king." schlatt finished, smiling. "i'm not that old, c'mon." his heart melted when he saw how... happy you were. about a few pieces of cotton sewed together. and he wanted to see you that happy, all the time.

so he bought you the thing. it was $15, which was a steal for a new york gift shop. but really? he would've paid thousands to see you as happy as you were then.

the whole walk home, you cooed at the thing, (you named it simba) giggling and tossing him up and down in the air as if he were your own child. schlatt got a kick out of it, chuckling as your head hit his shoulder, your mouth still yammering a mile a minute. to steady you, he tentatively wrapped an arm around your waist. he felt a tingle go up his spine.

as the rain started to come down again, schlatt shrugged his coat off and hung it over your shoulders. "gotta keep your hair all nice and shiny. big day tomorrow," he hummed, trying to keep it as casual as ever. "you scared?"

"no." you smiled, shook your head. "art isn't... scary. quite the opposite. it's more freeing, than anything. to express yourself. your whole self."

"that's the name of your exhibit, no? 'my whole self'." he echoes, a smile reserved. "you still haven't told me what it's about."

a knowing look on your face, all you said was simply— "you'll see," and oh boy, did he.

the next morning, he was at your exhibition. he'd brought ted along (because he was the one who introduced you two, and he loved a good art show.) there were parts about the exhibition that weren't surprising— that everyone was fawning over you, or people were offering you thousands of dollars for your paintings, no, that was standard. he expected it. what he didn't expect, though, was that there were paintings he... recognized. one was even of him. and he didn't want to be egotistical, but they seemed awfully romantic. even ted agreed. "she made you a collection," ted hummed thoughtfully, looking up at one of your paintings. "took your essence and painted 'em, really. she must like you a lot."

schlatt was fucking stunned. sure, he'd made a "paint me like your french girls" crack once or twice after you two had downed a whole bottle of wine that made then-sober schlatt bang his head into the wall, but he thought it was all in jest. or the lingering touches and stares— you just had a flirty personality, that was it.

but no. you were in love.

and so was he.

second day in a row in new york it was raining— a new record for the year. he got a glimpse of you leaving the shoot, and he fucking sprinted out of there, chasing after you.

"hey, you, wait up!" he panted. you were easy to spot, after all. you still had all that color in your hair from when he first met you (the rainbowdash jokes never got old to him, but then you called him a brony and he shut up.)

that smile again. "jay."

jay. you always called him schlatt. "that's me," he winced the second the lame joke left his lips, but what else was he to do? "i, uhm... loved the exhibit."

"thank you."

"right, so..." his breaths were uneven as the rain came down on both of you— only difference was you had an umbrella. "i wanted to say something."

intrigued, you let out a polite chuckle. "floor's all yours, big guy."

"you are fucking electrifying. you light up a room like... like a disco ball, alright? you make everything cool, and i'm so lucky you took an interest in a loser like me slumming it up in your party in los angeles. and i'd never want to say anything to drive you away, and the only reason i'm bringing it up is 'cause, well, i don't think i'm alone in feeling that, yeah?" in and out, his breaths were heavy from speaking so long without pausing.

breathless, all you could give was a weak nod. "yeah."

"right." he echoed, nodding. "i— i love you. so damn much, toots, drives me up the wall. and i know 'them's fighting words', as you'd say, but uhm... i would. fight, i mean. for you. if you want me to." schlatt groans, burying his face in his hands and dragging them down his face. "starting over. i just mean that... there is no one like you, in this world. seven billion people and there's only one i want, with bright colored hair and art that takes my breath away. that's you, by the way, if you weren't paying attention." you laugh. good, he thinks. i must be doing something right. "and i know that maybe you don't get my lifestyle, my job, youtube, whatever. but there's always people watching my every move, i know that. fangirls that would murder the president for me or something."

"but i don't want them. i don't care about them and their parasocial shit. i want you. forever, always, whatever fucking noun or adverb or adjective you want me to say. i want you. on a bad day, on a good day— hell, even if you paint a photo of me with a little dick and post it for the entire world to see. i don't care. just as long as you're happy. so, what i'm asking is... do you want to be happy, with me? be my girl, in fuckin' simpler terms, i guess."

and the best sound of all graced his ears. your laughter, same as when you two were on the train and when you two were walking home late last night with simba's stuffed arms in each of your hands.

smiling, you answered, "of course."

୨ৎ

enjoy part 2!! :) <3

divider creds @omi-resources

[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.

[peaceinpanem]

drarry - fake dating - muggle au

“Repeat what I just said back to me,” Draco instructed.

"Narcissa is your mother. I need to be polite, but not overly so because she can detect insincerity. Lucius is your father and is to be ignored at all costs. Ted is your uncle and a sworn enemy of your father, so they won't interact much, meaning he'll probably sit next to me at the table. Andromeda, the cool aunt, is sharp and may catch on to our act. Dora, the cousin, is laid-back and won't mention anything if they notice something is off. And then, of course, there's the forbidden aunt, Bellatrix. No mentions whatsoever. By the way, why bring up someone we're not allowed to talk about? I wouldn't have mentioned someone I didn't even know existed," Harry recited, kicking his feet up onto the immaculately clean dashboard of Draco’s obscenely expensive car.

Draco swatted at Harry's legs, admonishing, "That's dangerous, Potter. Ever heard of airbags?" as he navigated the sleek car through the winding, frosty country roads.

Rolling his eyes, Harry had a quip ready, but Draco continued his lecture before he could respond, "I told you about Bellatrix because forewarned is forearmed, Potter. It's better you know exactly what not to say instead of asking some insipid question like 'Do you have any other siblings?'" Draco explained, glancing briefly at Harry before returning to the road.

Harry leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "Harry."

Draco shot him a sidelong glance. "What?"

"Harry. You need to call me Harry, not Potter. I am your boyfriend, after all."

“Must I?”

Harry chuckled, “Well if you want this charade to be even the slightest bit convincing, you’ll have to make an effort. Wouldn’t want your family thinking we’re not madly in love, now would we?”

“Madly in love? Let’s not get carried away. Tolerably in a relationship is already pushing it,” Draco’s glare was piercing.

Harry grinned at the sharpness in Draco's words, the rigid posture he maintained, hands perfectly placed at 10 and 2 on the wheel. Pretending to be in love with the arrogant bloke would be a breeze, Harry thought; his real challenge was acting like he wasn't most days.

"So, does that mean open-mouthed kissing is off the table in front of your parents?" Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Draco muttered, taking a sharp left turn.

Harry instinctively grabbed the handle, suppressing a grin. "Agreed? Malfoy, you practically begged me in the locker rooms to do this."

"Begged? I did no such thing. It was merely a mutually beneficial arrangement."

Harry raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Mutually beneficial? So, what's the benefit for me, exactly?"

Draco scoffed. "The pleasure of my exquisite company, obviously."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “You are insufferable, you know that?”

Draco ignored his insult, opting instead to reach for the dial to turn the music up a bit louder. 'It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas' filled the car with a sweet, smooth voice and tinkling bells. Harry turned to rest his head against the cool glass of the car window, taking a moment to enjoy the views.

The road was narrow, and every visible surface was coated in fresh white snow. Tree branches bent under the weight, and small bits of flurry fell from the sky. In the distance, cottages with windows aglow and smoke puffing from their chimneys added to the picturesque scene.

It was a pleasant surprise, spending time with Malfoy like this. Three years into playing on their university football team together, this was the first time they had spent any time alone, just the two of them, not surrounded by their teammates, coaches, and friends.

“How did your parents take it when you told them?” Harry asked.

“Told them what?”

“That you’re gay.” Harry chuckled, “I always wonder how my parents would have reacted, you know? Like if they were still here.”

“Potter, are you dense? This is me telling them.”

[joansiesbeloved]

Ethel and Joan had a pretty rocky relationship at times despite both being Kennedy wives and practically sisters! Ethel was notorious for teasing her a lot- even going so far as to mocking her at times, and taking digs at Joan under the guise of her being her sister [sister-in-law] and also because sweet, bubbly, unassuming Joan was an easy target for anyone, so it seemed as times. (I hate describing it that way, but I have to agree with it to an extent. But it's not her fault she's such a loveable human!)

“As a sister [-in-law], she’s an easy mark. How can you not enjoy watching Joan Kennedy squirm." - Ethel would say with a grin.

But that doesn't mean there weren't moments where Ethel stood up for her younger sister-in-law and came to her rescue! So this was during the evening that Jack and Jackie opened the White House for its first public party, January 29th, 1961! A bar had been set up in the family dining room, and another in the East Wing, which was unusual. The Kennedys, however, believed that in order to entertain well a full bar was mandatory.

“Ted seemed to have spent an awful lot of time at the East Wing bar,” recalled one reporter present at the festivities. “So much so that his wife was becoming annoyed.” Joan looked elegant in a streamlined pink, asymmetrical evening gown, her blonde hair pulled back in a simple chignon. When Jackie saw her, she rushed over and complimented her. “Oh my God, Joan! Just look at you,” she exclaimed, her brown eyes wide with enthusiasm. “You look fantastic in that color. That’s your color, Joan. Pink. Always wear pink.” Joan smiled graciously, letting the First Lady’s compliment sink in. “Oh yeah? Well you shoulda seen her when she woke up this morning,” cracked a male voice behind her. “It was Ted,” remembered the reporter, “just a little drunk, and a lot mean. He was holding his dessert in one hand [Frambois a la crème Chantilly: raspberries topped with whipped cream], and spooning it out with the other. He had a smug look on his face.” Jackie stared at her brother-in-law for a moment, her lips pressed together, a hard look in her eyes. She started to speak but checked herself. Instead, she walked away, shaking her head in disgust. Ten minutes later, a campaign worker came over to Joan and paid her a compliment about her hairstyle. “Why, thank you,” Joan said, her smile bright. “I just thought I’d try something a little different, you know?” “You wanna see different?” Ted asked, cutting in. He had walked away, but suddenly he was back. “You oughta see her hair when she wakes up in the morning,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s not so pretty.” As the staffer walked off, muttering to herself, the expression on Joan’s face was of complete bewilderment. Quick tears came to her eyes; she blinked rapidly. Ethel Kennedy happened to have overheard the exchange. She grabbed Ted by the arm. “What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “This is your wife. How dare you insult her here, of all places? Now leave her alone, you big brute.” Then Ethel grabbed Joan’s hand. “Come on,” she said to her stunned sister-in-law, “I have someone I want you to meet.” The two women headed for the other side of the room, leaving Ted staring into his empty dessert bowl. As they left, Joan, with an aching expression on her face, looked over her shoulder at her embarrassed husband. For just a moment, it was evident that there was a richness of understanding between Ethel and Joan.

[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.

[dragonlover158429]

Ok so I've started reading the "Great Duck Mythology" and I have to say the retelling of Prometheus is my favourite so far. Whoever decided to star Donald Duck as Prometheus and Fethry as Epimetheus deserves a raise because it would be PERFECT for a greek mythology AU. I would never have thought about it myself but hear me out.

Donald is actually a really good pick to star as Prometheus. I mean isn't Prometheus's whole thing to defy authority to do what you believe is right? To choose what battles you want to fight and to be ready to bear the consequences of your choice? Prometheus knows he's going to get tortured by Zeus but still chooses to bring fire to mankind anyway. And that's sounds a lot like Don's characterisation in a lot of comics. Especially the PKNA and Doubleduck series. I mean Pk has defied the army, the PBI, the time-police and a few other organisation you aren't supposed to fuck with. (everyone hates him lmao) Yes, it was the right thing to do and yes, it was the only way to protect people. But it was also incredibly risky for him. And DD doesn't always agree with the Agency's action either. For example in one comic he lies and covers the track of a character so the Agency would believe he was dead. The guy was a good person but one that knew too many secrets to be free. And that was a HUGE risk for a guy DD had literally JUST MET.

2. I don't know that much about Epimetheus but, from what I've heard, the two titan brothers are very Donald and Fethry coded.

(Oh you just KNOW he's going to fuck this up.)

3. Continuing with the titan brothers (yes that's what they're called now, don't argue); Della would do great as Atlas- since Atlas is the personification of endurance and the creator of astronomy. And Gladstone.... can be Monoetius! I actually don't know anything about him other that he's arrogant and that he managed to piss of Zeus enough to get personally zapped by lightning before getting sent to Tartarus and so, obviously he's Gladstone! :) Listen I love Gladstone but he can be really annoying.

That way you get to have a fun au AND still keep the canon family issues 😀. Instead of the Spear of Selene you have the Titanomachy! Yay! Family issues for everybody!!!

4. So Prometheus is eventually freed and the eagle is killed. By whom you ask?

Freaking. Hercules.

*maniacal laughter*

No, but tell me you see it. Storkules and Prometheus Duck. That would actually be so fucking funny.

Anyways, that's why I think a greek mythology AU with the duck cousins as the titan brothers would be interesting, cool, and incredibly funny. Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[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…”

[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

[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

[boondocktalks]

I like Huey as a character, but I personally think he was a sociopath. Little dude rarely smiled and was an asshole at times.

He was even labeled a domestic terrorist by his own grandfather and it’s says this on his wiki too.

Oh boy, where do I begin?

While I do not have a major in psychology or have the best understanding of a person’s mind, I can tell you right now that Huey is far from a sociopath.

You are correct, he rarely showcased emotions throughout “The Boondocks,” often having a scowl or a blank expression on his face. I only would have to count with one hand on how many times he smiled in the show.

I will also agree with him being unlikable at times, especially in the first season. He was mean towards Jazmine in the beginning, especially when he tells her to eat something out of the dumpster when she calls out his hypocrisy in “The Real” episode.

Huey is also shown to be a bit of a control freak. In the “A Huey Freeman Christmas” episode, he catches the students that were helping him with his play having a dance party instead of working, he fired all of them. The teacher tries to tell him that he couldn’t do that, but he simply holds up the contract document and tells the kids to get out. He also shows to be frustrated with the actors when they perform a scene that isn’t up to par for him.

It’s even implied that he has a terrifying temper. In the Season 3 episode entitled “The Red Ball,” Robert points out that Huey didn’t like to be laughed at. It cuts to a scene of the crowd poking fun at him for his team having a low score, and he violently throws the ball to one of the opponents’ teammates. He’s led to believe that he caused permanent damage to the girl, but that was later revealed that it was a lie.

In this same episode, he does the same thing to the opposite team when he heard them mocking him for believing Ming’s lies.

Despite him being more well behaved than Riley and didn’t have to get disciplined as much as he did by their grandfather, Huey definitely got into trouble as well. He had a smart mouth, got into fights, and had no problem being a menace as well.

Now as far as you mentioning him being a domestic terrorist, there’s no signs to confirm that he really was one. He wasn’t out in the world actively trying to cause harm to anyone. Did he go extreme at time? Yes. But, he had good intentions.

With all of that said, to label his character as someone who lacks emotions and have no regards to others is harsh.

There are plenty of examples of people in the media and in real life that are sociopaths. The Joker, Eric Cartman, Ted Bundy are just a few that fit that description.

Huey Freeman doesn’t.

If you pay attention to the show, Huey can be considered the most down to earth character. I can also argue that other than Jazmine, he has the biggest heart.

Example #1: “The Block Is Hot”

Jazmine was being exploited by Ed Wuncler for her lemonade stand. She was investing in purchasing a pony, and Ed manipulates her into working for him. Huey sees right through his facade, and tried to tell her that he’s a crook. Despite Jazmine snapping at him, he still looked out for her and even organized a protest. The ending gets chaotic, but it shows that he truly cared about her well being.

Example #2: “Fried Chicken Flu”

Huey’s intentions was to finish building a generator for himself, Riley, and their grandfather if things got bad.

Jazmine: “What about everyone else?”

Huey: “I can’t save everyone else. If I do, I end up saving no one.”

That doesn’t sound like someone who is a sociopath. Had Huey been one, he wouldn’t have even thought about his family. Only himself.

In this scene, Jazmine persuades him into letting her stay with them, and he eventually does despite a little bit of hesitation. Later on in the episode, almost all of their friends stay in the house despite his initial protest and how he feared that they would run out of food, water and power.

The kid even made a whole plan for everyone to read. Does that sound like a sociopath to you?

Example #3: “The Passion Of Reverend Ruckus”

In this episode, Huey has plans on getting his friend, Shabazz, to escape from death row after being accused of a murder he wasn’t apart of. He was willing to put himself in harms way to get his friend out of prison, and even threatened to blackmail someone in the government for having a same sex relationship. Again, he did go overboard at times, but you can tell that he just wanted Shabazz out.

There’s plenty of more examples that shows that Huey cared for people deeply, but we’ll be here all day if I list them out.

In conclusion, Huey Freeman is not a sociopath. He isn’t easy to figure out, and that one of the things that makes him one of the most compelling characters in the series. This also leads to misunderstanding about him as well, especially from people who only take this show as a comedy.

I’m not saying that you have to like Huey in order to enjoy the series. I’ve known plenty of people who preferred other characters like Riley, Ed Wuncler The Third, or even Uncle Ruckus. What I am saying is that you can’t be quick to put him in the category of those who actually fit the criteria of a sociopath, especially when you haven’t sat down to actually understand who he is and what he stands for.

[swanimagines]

JENN I CANNOT BELIEVE I FORGOT ABOUT YOUR SPAMMING EVENT AND GOD IM SO HAPPY I GOT HERE IN THE NICK OF TIME-

May I please have a Pin Hawthorne x fem!reader where she doesn't ride but is a good friend of Jade's, and Pin and her are in a relationship but no one at the stables know. And everyone expects Pin to ask Zoe for the mistletoe ball (including Zoe herself) and that takes a toll on reader and she kinda just goes into a shell, and then Pin comes and reassures her and you know the entire stables is stunned when they see the both of then attend the ball together?

Thank you Jen<33

A/N: I wanted to include one Christmas themed fic for this month so here you go 💖

It toootally hasn't been three years and you totally didn't request this on 2nd of January 2022, nope. (Sorryyyyyyy hshshsshsh, but hey I'm trying to pick up the posting pace again starting from next week and my queue looks well so far so I have hopes! And I know you understand why this took so long because as you know, my life has been... a lot during this time.)

Summary: You are in a relationship with Pin, but you haven’t had the need to advertise it around as it’s still fresh. When the Mistletoe Ball is coming, your best friend Jade tells you that they all know that Pin is finally going to ask Zoe to the ball, which makes you feel insecure. Would Zoe really be a better option for Pin?

SNOWFALL

The icy weather of December had settled into Bright Fields just in time before Christmas. You were standing in Bob’s stable, stroking his nose while Jade babbled beside you, sitting on a stool. You knew it was rude that you didn’t really pay attention to what she said, but your thoughts were on Pin.

Pin, who was finally your boyfriend. You had agreed on it a week ago after dancing around each other’s feelings for over a year. You had confessed your feelings to each other a month ago, sat on it for three more weeks and then finally decided to give it a try. And even though you decided to keep it to yourselves besides from Ted and your own family, you were walking on top of the clouds, always waiting for the evening to have time to spend with him. If you told others at the stable, the fuss and the gushing about you two would never end, and you didn’t really want to take the spotlight away from the Mistletoe Ball. It was the biggest event of the year, and it would have felt selfish to advertise your relationship with Pin in the middle of all this.

"Everyone knows it, honestly," Jade declared, making you look up in confusion. "It's been ages coming, hasn't it? They’re basically perfect for each other."

“What’s coming?” you asked with a little smile, eager to gossip.

“You didn’t listen to me at all, huh?” she giggled, then sighed. “I’m talking about Zoe and Pin. You must have seen how they look at each other.”

You froze and pulled your hand away from Bob, who let out a protesting huff. “Wait, Pin and Zoe? No, I don’t think so.”

Jade frowned. “No? Well, everyone else sees it.” She shrugged. “Maybe you haven’t paid enough attention to them.”

You crossed your arms. “Well I happen to know for a fact that Pin is not interested in Zoe.”

Jade stared at you for a moment, clearly puzzled. “Has he said something about it, then?”

You blinked, suddenly not sure what you could say. You had decided on keeping your relationships under wraps for a while before announcing it, and you weren’t sure if Pin would understand you telling Jade. Becky could very well succeed in snooping it from Jade and she would not be able to keep her mouth shut, and then there would be a huge fuss about it.

So you didn’t say anything, turning away. A nagging feeling stepped in on the next moment, what if it was true, what if Pin had gotten tired of hiding the relationship and was planning to end things and move on to be with Zoe instead?

You knew that’d be unlikely, and that Pin isn’t like that. He’d be direct and fair with it if he was interested in Zoe and not you, he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that. But Jade was so sure about it, apparently along with the rest of the stable. You didn’t ride, you weren’t always there when Pin and Zoe were riding together. You knew they were friends, rather good friends, but could there have been something… more? 

Jade sighed, murmuring your name. “Look, everyone expects him to ask Zoe, including Zoe herself. If you know something about it, it would be fair to tell me so I could tell Zoe. She’ll be disappointed otherwise, which is not fair for her.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. I’m dating Pin, that’s why I know, you wanted to say. Or you can tell her that I know for a fact that he won’t ask her, he has someone else.

But that would just spur more questions. Who is it, do we know that person, where did they meet? Maybe Jade would even think Pin is secretly some kind of a player. Which he would be if Jade would be correct, but she wasn’t.

Right?

Your silence made Jade groan quietly. “Come on, you’re acting weird,” Jade pressed. “If you know something, just tell me. Zoe’s my friend, too, and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

Yoy were silent for a moment longer, closing your eyes for a moment before you finally spoke. "I don’t know anything about Zoe and Pin, I don’t know whether he’s interested in her for sure or not,” you told her, forcing to keep your voice from wavering. “But honestly, I don’t think it’s fair to assume he’ll ask her just because everyone else does. If he does ask her, I’ll eat my boots.”

Jade scoffed. “Those aren’t your boots.”

You huffed. “Right. Well, I’ll eat something that won’t taste good and isn’t meant as food.”

Jade raised her eyebrows. “You must be really certain about this.”

You weren’t that sure, not really. But you had to play it off, pretend you weren’t jealous. There was no need, you knew it. At least you tried to make yourself believe so. Disappointments in boys before Pin weighed you down, and you felt horrible that a few words from Jade could make you doubt Pin. He would feel offended if he found out, you knew it. 

But still, a nagging voice of doubt laughed in the back of your head. What if, what if, what if…

Stop.

—

Later that day, you sat at the courtyard browsing through your phone, when you recognised Pin’s steps approaching you.

“I’m done for today, do you want a ride home?”

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, and you sighed. “Zoe thinks you’re going to ask her to be your partner at the Mistletoe Ball.”

Pin frowned as he tilted his head slightly, staring at you for a moment. “What?” he asked with an amused huff. “Zoe thinks that I’m… interested in her?”

You nodded and shrugged. “Apparently, everyone at Bright Fields assumes you’re going to ask her. Even Jade said so. And Zoe herself expects you to ask her.”

Even though you tried to keep off the tone of doubt off your voice, Pin seemed to notice and crouched in front of you. “You know that’s not true, right?”

You nodded slowly. “I know. It’s just... it’s hard to hear it from everyone else. And Zoe... she’s confident and stunning and–”

“Not you. She’s not you,” Pin interrupted you and took your hands in his. “Why would I ask Zoe, or be interested in her like that when I have the most beautiful, amazing, kind and funny girlfriend in the world?”

You felt yourself blushing as your gaze dropped into your lap. Pin tugged at your hands.

“Look at me,” he urged you, and you met his eyes again. “I don’t care what anyone thinks. You’re the one I want, I know we’re… new to this, the first real relationship for both of us, but I hope we’ll be together ten years from now. You returning my feelings was the best day of my life, and I will shout it from the rooftops to the whole island if you’d ask me to do that.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Maybe that’s not necessary.”

He smirked. “Well, good. Because I have something else in mind.”

“What?”

“How about we show up at the Mistletoe Ball together? People would see us there and there would be no doubt after that.”

You blinked, your heartbeat immediately picking up. “Are you sure you want to do it? We agreed to keep things private for now.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind,” he said, squeezing your hands. “If it’s bothering you, then it’s not worth the secrecy. Besides…” He leaned in, his voice dipping into a whisper. “I want to dance with my girlfriend there. And I want everyone to know.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, before you let a grin take over your face. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

The day of the ball arrived, and you had spent forever in your bedroom, puffing out your dress. Ruffles and glitter were something you weren’t used to wearing, but today, you wanted to feel like a princess, you wanted to do your best to make jaws drop like Pin had said, look beautiful.

And now you were standing in front of the barn with Pin, seeing the lights from the disco ball shining to every direction, hearing the music booming. Pin took your hand and offered you an encouraging smile, and you finally stepped through the barn doors.

It took a minute from people to notice you, but by the time you were going to get some fruit punch Jade and you had spent hours perfecting the previous day, you could feel some pairs of eyes looking at you.

And soon, Jade came beside you, frowning. “I thought you weren’t coming?”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, I mean, I was asked to come as… a date.”

Jade was clearly taken aback by that. “A date?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed and glanced over at Pin. Jade followed your gaze, and blinked. Once, twice, before she turned to look at you again.

“Pin?”

You felt yourself blushing again. “Yeah, well. We’ve dated for two weeks now, but we confessed our feelings to each other a month and a half ago. We’ve just… taken it slow and didn’t want to raise a fuss over it.”

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she asked, feigning offense before grinning. “But to be honest, I had suspicions you have someone. I just didn’t think... well, it makes sense now why you insisted that Zoe shouldn’t wait for Pin to ask her.” She looked over at Pin chatting with Ted, before humming. “And I never thought about it before, but I have to admit, you two are kind of perfect together.”

Pin walked over to join you at the buffet table, nodding towards Jade. “She told you?”

Jade nodded. “Yeah, I just… sorry, I need to recover from this shock.”

She turned on her heel, disappearing to the crowd, and you caught a sight of Zoe at the other side of the room, seeing disappointment written all over her face. You knew it wasn’t mean-spirited and she wouldn’t start sabotaging your relationship like Mia would if she was to like Pin, but it still made you feel slightly bad.

Pin noticed you looking at Zoe, and he nudged you. “She’ll recover. I told her after our discussion that I already have a date so she won’t be too disappointed, she just didn’t know it’s you.”

You nodded and you sat there for a while, sipping your fruit punches before you looked at the dance floor. “Do you want to dance?”

Pin laughed. “I don’t really dance.”

You grinned, putting your cup down on the table and tugging him up with you. “Well, you don’t have to be good at it.”

Pin groaned, but followed you to the dance floor anyway.

You could still feel everyone looking at you two, but on the dance floor it was just you and Pin, and nothing else mattered on that moment. His hands settled on your waist as you swayed to the music, staring into each other’s eyes. 

And at that moment, you knew that coming here today was the right choice.

---

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[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.