#when should i hire a business coach?

[ranjith11]

When Should I Hire A Business Coach? | Walt Hampton

When Should I Hire A Business Coach? If you’re asking the question, it may be past the time. That’s what Norm would say. Norm was my first sailing instructor. Norm was teaching me to reef the sail… how to reduce the sail area when the winds got nasty. “When should I reef the sails?” I asked. “If you find yourself asking the question, it’s probably already too late,” Norm said. It’s probably the same principle if you’re wondering about hiring a business coach. If you want to talk through the question of when that right time is. benefits of hiring a business coach We have an amazing team of business coaches who will get you where you want to go faster, easier, and without having to re-invent wheels.

[warping-realities]

A Better Brighter Future

A brief explanation, this story is a spinoff of Dalton Academy, you don't need to have read that series to understand this story, but you will miss some references. The themes here are also controversial and I need to remind everyone that just because I wrote it doesn't mean I agree with what's happening! Otherwise, a great read for anyone interested!

Director Horace Johnson wasn’t having a good week; in fact, the week he was having was bloody dreadful. The blonde, skinny bloke, fifty years old, had dedicated a good chunk of his adult life to educating young people, finding that calling shortly after leaving university. A staunch defender of human rights and a proponent of positive education, he faced all sorts of problems with reactionary teachers throughout his career, none worse than Ethan Wood, the former PE teacher at King Richard All Boys Institute, affectionately referred to by everyone in the tiny village of Daffodil-Meadow-Over-The-Hill as Lionheart School. However, after numerous run-ins over the three years he’d been the head of that institution, he finally got fed up with the other bloke's speeches, attitudes, and teaching style, and thanks to an anonymous tip about some dodgy behaviour that led to his dismissal, nearly all the students and many of the  teachers breathed a sigh of relief; that sort of hardline, oppressive treatment had no place in today’s world. The one thing Horace couldn’t imagine was the struggle to find a replacement who shared his progressive ideals, not to mention the fact that he had to deal with the backlash from some conservative parents, teachers, and board members. Just another battle they were fighting; he should have known, it was like that when he banned the posh uniforms or tried to authorise the use of gender-neutral pronouns – one battle won, another lost. But he was determined to come out on top again; he refused to put another outdated troglodyte in that position. A better, brighter future was the motto of that school, and he was going to make it happen.

While he was mulling over these issues, sitting in his office with a good cup of tea, his privacy was invaded. With a loud BAM, the door to his office was flung open, causing him to quickly raise his eyes from the document he was reading, only to see the monstrous figure striding towards him. A black man in his thirties, dressed in a polo shirt, tracky bottoms, and trainers, exuding the brash vibe of a sports coach, swaggered confidently in his direction. He couldn’t remember scheduling any interview, and certainly not with someone so rude, who gave off exactly the impression of the type of professional he refused to hire.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to leave this room; I’m busy and we haven’t got a time booked!” he said, standing up and positioning himself beside his desk, noting the absurd difference in build and muscle between the two.

“And since when do old mates need permission to see you, Henry?”

“That’s not my name!”

“I know that, Henderson, you tosser, but if you reckon I’m not gonna use your nickname just because you’re the head honcho of a fancy school now, you’re sorely mistaken. Just wait until the lads on the rugby team find out the Steamroller Henry is all posh now; they’ll be laughing their heads off!”

“Sir, I… I don’t know what you’re on about… I insist you leave!”

“Now that’s the Henry I know, always ready to pull a fast one on his mates.” The man said, slumping down in the armchair opposite his desk. “But enough of the banter, mate. After you got in touch, I did a bit of digging into what’s going on around here, and you’ve got some serious problems. Losing a bloke like Ethan Wood must have been a right kick in the teeth, especially after scrapping the uniforms; they might have been a bit too posh, but they helped maintain a sense of unity and shared identity. Good on you for getting rid of that daft idea of using gender-neutral pronouns. Still, mate, I can see why you need me here. Transforming these crybabies into real men can’t be easy, but don’t you worry; you called the right person!”

“I… what…? I don’t get it…”

“What’s hard to understand, Henry? You need help to rein in this progressive agenda that’s trying to take root here, so you called your old uni mate Blake Ian Garret, The BIG and said, ‘Mate, I need your help with these wankers trying to sabotage me; old Wood is out, I need you for the job!’”

“I… Blake… BI… BIG, then… do you accept?”

“Of course I do, you muppet; it’s exactly what I’ve been banging on about! That whisky you’re drinking is probably messing with your already dodgy brain. I wonder how they let you become a director, Henry; not that I’m complaining, we need more blokes like us in charge.”

“I also wonder how I ended up here; I only became a teacher because that dodgy Wood promised to pass on his job to me when he retired, and next thing I know, I’m stuck in this boring role and now I have to give the job I wanted to an arse.” He said with fake exasperation. 

“Shut it, mate; I know you missed having another real man around here, and while I explain how things work in the place I was working, why don’t you pour me a bit of that drink? I think you’ll love hearing about Dalton Academy.” The man commented, noticing the change happening in Horace Johnson. In a blur of movement, the skinny man’s body expanded in muscle and height, while the wrinkles vanished from his face and his blonde hair started to grow back where it had receded. In less than a second, Henderson “Henry” Johnson found himself grinning, offering a glass of whisky that hadn’t been there before to his old university friend and now professor Blake Garret, The BIG in his realm.

“A toast to the best hire I could have made,” he said, raising the glass to his old friend, who broke into a wide smile.

“To a better and brighter future, indeed!”

…..

The students and teachers didn’t know why they were gathered in the school gym. The summons came from Director Johnson himself, and they knew they had to comply quickly, as the man had a military rigidity about that sort of thing, not tolerating any behaviour he deemed lazy. So, what a surprise it was for everyone to see that it wasn’t Henry Johnson heading to the packed gym.

“Good morning, gentlemen! My name’s Blake Garret and I’m the new PE teacher here at Lionheart. The director Johnson and I have known each other for a long time; we were university mates and teammates, and he’s shared with me his concerns about the behaviour and ideals presented here. This nation is infected, gentlemen. Infected by a parasite called progressivism. Progress should be encouraged, yes, but with proper control, guided by the ideas of our parents and ancestors. Progress for the sake of progress should be discouraged!” He said, striding across the gym floor like a caged beast ready to break free, pausing only to observe the indignant faces of some teachers and a few students who bothered to pay attention to what he was saying. But that was about to change, and it was going to be now. “When Henry told me that the infection was spreading here too, I couldn’t believe it. I said to him, ‘Surely not, Henry, my dear. Lionheart is a beacon of clarity amidst a stormy sea of harmful ideas; the teachers are exemplars of masculinity and manliness, and the students are the pinnacle to which every young man in this nation should aspire; surely there’s no such behaviour here.’ But… but now that I’m here, I see! Gentlemen, my eyes fill with tears at what Lionheart is.” He said, taking another pause to take in the disgusted expressions before finally finishing what he had come to do there. “Tears, yes, tears of pride! For you are much more than I imagined, gentlemen. You are paragons of masculinity, the example of what every man should aspire to be; you haven’t allowed yourselves to be contaminated by the corruption attacking our country from within; you are what gives me hope for the future of our great nation.” He said, resuming his frenetic pacing, and with every step he took, the audience transformed; teachers, students, staff, all expanding in size while ideas and thoughts shrank, casual clothes being replaced by training gear that showcased their muscular and defined bodies, while a powerful funk that only dozens of sweaty gathered men could produce dominated the atmosphere, not that anyone there cared about it.

“That was a brilliant welcome drill, lads; now off to the showers and back to your uniforms for your lessons. Teachers, I ask you to stay a bit longer; I need to know about any absent students today.”

….

Franklin was in deep trouble; he missed the bus to school and had to walk all the way from the village of Grimchurch to Daffodil Meadow, which wasn’t pleasant for a skinny, asthmatic kid. The worst part was that he ended up terribly late for school, and knowing the kind of reception he would get, he thought about just not going, but that would bring even bigger complications, so he decided to face his fate with resignation. He was greeted by the guard, who merely directed him to one of the classrooms where a teacher would speak to the late students and administer the necessary punishment. Sighing with resignation, he headed to the indicated location, but upon arriving, something stopped him from entering the room; some sort of primitive alert resonating within his mind. Peeking through the corner of the window, he saw a teacher he didn’t recognise, a tall and very strong man with skin as dark as his own, talking to Bernard, Vincent, and Timothy, three of the biggest truants at Lionheart, who were looking at him with bored expressions. But then, in the blink of an eye, the unthinkable happened; the boys he had known all his life were replaced by larger, stronger, muscular versions, wearing uniforms and smiling as if they were getting drunk on every word the teacher was saying, words which Franklin couldn’t hear. But then the teacher approached the door, and he could hear the end of the speech.

“… rowing at the end of the day; you lot are to be congratulated, I wouldn’t be surprised if any of you ended up representing England at the Olympics. Oh, before you go, Bert and Victor, you’re in the same class as Franklin Burke, right? If you see him, let me know; I need to have a word with the lad, the same goes for you, Tom.”

Hearing that, Franklin took off running, desperate, not fully understanding what he had witnessed but knowing the risk he was in; he urgently needed to get out of there. In his despair, he didn’t notice that the man had left the room and smiled when he saw a skinny kid running toward the changing rooms.

Franklin thought the safest way to escape the trap he had fallen into would be through the school gym, which should be empty at that hour. Sneaking in as quietly as possible, he finally reached the changing area; he just needed to cross it and head to the football pitch, which would be free from whatever was happening there. But there was a hitch: someone was using the changing room. Quickly hiding behind the door, he saw the stranger swaggering arrogantly through the space. Recently out of the shower and wearing only a jock strap, the muscular Chinese lad strutted as if he owned the place. Stopping in front of the mirror, he admired himself. Who could he have been before? No… no… Lionheart only had one Chinese student. That must be… Anshen? Franklin’s best mate… no… this was a nightmare.

“I can see you there, mate!” said the muscular lad, crossing his arms. “Coach BIG is looking for you. I wouldn’t irritate the bloke if I were you.” He added with a cheeky grin. Having been discovered, Franklin stepped out of hiding.

“Anshen… is that you?”

“The name’s Ashton, Franklin. Honestly, how could you forget the name of the captain of the school swimming team?” he said, acting as if that made him the most important person in the room. Without even glancing to the side, he brushed past that aberration towards the corridor leading to the football pitch.

“Hey, mate, the coach’s office is the other way!” shouted the other lad, but Franklin didn’t pay him any mind. He was running anxiously toward the door that was his salvation. Only to see it swing open and the monstrous giant that was walking toward him with a grin. Between the two giants, he chose to face the smaller of the two and took off running in the direction he had come from, without seeing the smile fade from the man's face or hearing him grumble.

“Don’t know why they run…”

Upon reaching the door of the changing room he had just passed through a few seconds ago, he found it locked. How? Ashton must have locked it. Franklin grunted as he cursed the other lad with every ounce of strength not being used to try to open the door.

“It’s useless, lad. Your fate was sealed the moment you set foot in this school. But you know what? I like you; you’ve got fire in you. Turn around.” The man said with authority, and Franklin felt his body obey against his will. Gathering courage, he faced the man.

“Who are you? What are you?”

“What I am is something to be answered another time. Now, who am I? Frankly, Farrel, that’s no way to speak to your godfather.” Coach BIG replied, seemingly hurt, although a slight tremor at the corner of his lips indicated he was actually enjoying himself.

“What? Godfather? I don’t have a godfather and I don’t even know who you are! And who the hell is Farrel?”

“Farrel is my godson; a lad, strong and sure of what he wants. A man who knows a man’s rightful place in society. He’s a bit of a rogue, the type who’s too smart for his own good, always finding a way to dodge consequences. Except when he’s on the pitch; he’s the captain of the rugby team and takes that role seriously, even knowing his future lies in politics, thanks to the silver tongue he possesses. In short, Farrel is you, you great numpty. Now that it’s just the two of us in my office, come give your godfather a hug.”

“I… what? No…!” Franklin stammered as he felt his legs move on their own and a dreamy smile form on his lips, even as he internally screamed in anxiety.

Anxiety? He never got anxious! At least not off the pitch. There he was a monster, a bull. But off it? Off it, he was the face of relaxation. Chill out and have a laugh was Farrel Burke’s motto! Thought the muscular black giant that few would believe was only eighteen years old. While he put on the school uniform in his godfather’s office, admiring his beautiful body and smiling.

“Farrel? Farrel! Bloody hell, lad, can’t you pay attention for a minute?”

“Sorry, Uncle BIG… I mean… Coach BIG… oops… Professor Garret.”

“If you weren’t my godson, I’d give you a right telling off, lad, and just because I’m your godfather doesn’t mean you can use my office as if it were your personal changing room.”

“If you hadn’t dragged me from the changing room, I wouldn’t need to finish getting dressed here!”

“Is that a dig at my behaviour, lad?” BIG asked seriously, his eyes glinting dangerously.

“No, sir, professor. I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” The lad replied, sensing the danger.

“Great. As I was saying, I want to implement some of the ideas I brought from Dalton; while you finish getting ready, let me talk to you about the clubs…”

…..

By the end of that week, BIG’s initial work was complete; there were no more students or teachers left to be improved. The uniforms had returned to being the norm, and all the lads were required to be part of at least one of the school’s sports teams. Moreover, the social clubs had been formed, ensuring that the lads, even after school ended, would have a reason to return to Lionheart and not forget what they had learned there. BIG was proud of what he had accomplished, and those above him were too. Now it was time for the expansion phase, to take what was taught at Lionheart outside the school’s walls and fields. BIG’s approach was different from that taken at Dalton; times were different, and in the war they were waging against those who wanted to remove men from their rightful place, there was no room for the discretion adopted by the sister school. Europe was falling too quickly; it was necessary to be more incisive. That’s why Lionheart would focus not only on creating the leaders of tomorrow but a whole generation of influencers, and sport would be their flagship. And there was no sport more popular worldwide than football. Knowing this, the Lionheart team became a priority for BIG, and he created a particularly talented and charismatic group, but they still lacked a coach of the right calibre. But that would soon be resolved, and quickly too; normally, BIG liked to savour the moment he transformed a pathetic figure into a real man. However, as the mass transformation of the first day showed, when the need was pressing, he acted fast. And that Sunday morning, it was needed again. While the lads prepared for training, the stands of the school filled with students from other teams, but also with parents and locals from the surrounding towns. This would be exhausting. And the cherry on top was the old man walking across the field with an angry look directed at BIG, who returned the scorn before breaking into a smile.

Zachariah Hastings, a member of the school board and a staunch conservative, which in theory should please BIG, but the problem was that the old codger was too conservative. Homophobic and racist, he seemed to boil inside the outdated suit he was wearing at that moment. He indeed represented that mythical figure of patriarchy that the snowflakes loved to point out as the cause of all ills: the white, heterosexual, cisgender man. BIG had nothing against a man who was all those things; on the contrary. The problem was that this figure represented everything that the enemies of the brotherhood of men took pleasure in using to attack. BIG’s group merely wanted to return men to their rightful place in society; they didn’t care about race, religion, whether you were an immigrant or who you slept with. Implicating with those things only created divisions, pushing men away from the real goal. And it was precisely for that reason that Zachariah had to go. Without any fanfare or manipulation, in one moment, the old codger was there with a bewildered expression, as if he knew what awaited him, and in the next moment, a fine specimen of a black man, very much like BIG himself, stood in his place, while every man in that audience became an upgraded ally, and BIG enthusiastically announced to everyone the arrival of the legendary Zeke Hastings, newly retired player from Manchester City and multiple-time champion of the Premier League, Champions League, and Euro Cup, to take the position of coach for the school’s football team, sending all the men in that place into a frenzy of delight, while BIG himself smiled, satisfied that the first part of his duty was finally fulfilled.

**Two months earlier**

Barret couldn’t stop tapping his foot while waiting in the posh waiting room of Dalton Academy; after all, this was his big chance, even if he didn’t understand why an American school would be interested in an English literature teacher. Although the whole place reeked of Old Money, perhaps that justified the interest in him.

“You can come in, Mr. Garret.” A metallic voice startled Barret, who looked around for the source, but found none. Collecting himself, he stood up, straightened his suit, and opened the massive door to the office. What he saw there gave him a sense of strangeness. Smiling and walking towards him in a space much larger than would be possible, was a handsome lad, no more than eighteen years old. Was this some sort of prank by the posh students?

“Come in, Mr. Garrett. Barret Garret; your parents had an interesting sense of humour; I would have certainly liked them…” commented the smiling young man before frowning. “Why the scared face? Ahhh, I always forget these modern conventions; in my day, this would already be the appearance of an adult man.” The young man said, his face concentrating, and then, as if by magic, he began to walk towards an office desk that Barret could have sworn hadn’t been there seconds before. When he reached the desk a blonde, older, and muscular man wearing a slightly less formal outfit smiled at Barret. 

“I think you’ll prefer this appearance, my dear. You can call me Mr. Edgar. And even though I’ve used a bit of trickery to bring you here, since unfortunately there’s no place for you on Dalton’s faculty, by the time we finish our conversation, it’ll be as if you know the place better than you do yourself, and I guarantee the goal I have in mind for you will leave you quite satisfied. Put a smile on that face and step in.” Even against his will, in that incomprehensible situation, Barret found himself smiling and stepped into the creature’s lair.

If anyone who wasn’t an active member of Dalton was watching what was going on, they would have been shocked. But within those walls, it was almost routine. A young, well-dressed black man hesitating in front of a portal, only to, upon crossing it, see his body modify and expand, while he aged a few years, though that only made him even more charming; his slow steps transforming into the confident stride of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And anyone who knew Blake Ian Garret, coach BIG, could tell that that impression would be correct, though incomplete. BIG not only knew what he wanted but would also do everything in his power to achieve his goals. And those goals at the moment consisted of returning to England to find a way to occupy a position at Lionheart School, which conveniently was established on top of one of the largest dormant power points of the old country, but which only needed a spark to awaken. A spark that Mr. Edgar handed to him, only demanding in return that he use that power to ensure that the occupants of the place, both the established ones and those who would come, and even the unsuspecting traveler passing through, became the right kind of men. The exact type that BIG himself represented.

….

**6 months later**

“Son, I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think. I survived high school; you will too.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to be transferred in the middle of the second year to a school with the highest concentration of wanker athletes that would have certainly made your life a nightmare.”

“Duncan, I understand; I was transferred as well, remember? I need to make friends at work too.”

“Dad, that’s completely different; none of your colleagues are going to shove your head in a toilet or anything like that.”

“I’m sure that only happens in films, Duncan.”

The pair of overweight blonde father and son walked through the corridors of the Lionheart Institute towards Director Johnson. The truth is that even Alex, the father, was not comfortable with that arrangement, but there was nothing to be done; Lionheart was the best school in the area, and he refused to send his son away from him. Duncan was a shy and reserved kid, just like he had been at that age. That school would be a challenge, but any other would be too, and there he would be close by if something happened.

“Dad, didn’t you read the articles I sent you? This journalist, Aaryan Patel, wrote a series of them talking about what goes on here; all the students here, regardless of where they came from, are some kind of athletes; some have even competed in the Olympics. And there’s more; all of them have behaviour described as toxic; some have been banned from giving interviews; some bloke named Ashton Zhang won a bronze medal in Paris but said so much rubbish about the opening ceremony that he almost got banned from competing.”

“Well, then they’ll know what it’s like to have a mathlete among them now! And who knows, you might become a good influence on them or even get motivated to take up some sport; exercise does wonders for a young lad.”

“Says the man who’s never set foot on a court in his life…”

“Duncan, enough! You’re coming to study here, and that’s final.” The father snapped, as he noticed a giant figure approaching confidently down the corridor.

“But Dad, I think Aaryan Patel has a point…”

“Duncan! I don’t want to hear you talking about Aaryan Patel anymore!”

“You do quite well.” Commented the giant black man approaching them, his smile vanishing upon hearing that name. “Mr. Patel has only been defaming the good name of this school with lies and distortions, when what he should be doing is praising the performance of our students in all areas of life. I’m Professor Garret and I believe you are Archibald and Duncan, am I right?”

“In fact, my name is Alexander…”

“Ah, some misunderstanding then.” Commented the professor with a cheeky smile before continuing. “Director Johnson should have welcomed you, but he had a slight hiccup and asked me to do it for him. I thought I’d chat with you, Archibald, while one of the lads shows Duncan around the school. Where is that rascal? Ah, here he comes.” Professor Garret finished speaking without giving Alexander a chance to correct him about the name error, although he himself had forgotten it when he saw the lad strutting down the corridor, almost like a mini version of the professor. Although saying that anything about that lad was mini would be an affront. Broad shoulders and strong limbs pushing the limits of the school’s smart black uniform, made up of a full suit, tie, and dress shoes that must have been tailor-made to fit the boats that were his feet, the overall effect was one of sophistication but also of dominance and confidence that left Alexander gaping and Duncan, who was already fearful, completely terrified.

“Good day, Coach BIG… hum… Professor Barret; good day, sir.” The lad said politely, although a mischievous sparkle danced in his eyes.

“Farrell, my boy. Would you be so kind as to show the school’s facilities to Duncan here while Archie and I have a chat?”

“With pleasure, Professor Garret. Would you be so kind as to accompany me, Duncan?” He said, positioning himself next to the other lad who, although overweight, was shorter and lighter than him, before turning to Alexander with a cheeky grin. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Archie.”

“The pleasure was mine, lad.” replied Alex, again forgetting to correct the name error. “We’ll see you in a bit, Duke.” He ended up saying to his son, who looked at him first with wide eyes of pleading and then in surprise at how his father had called him. But there was nothing to be done, for at that moment the muscular giant lad took him by the arm and carried him down the corridor, while his father walked away in the opposite direction, chatting amiably with the behemoth that was Professor Garret.

BIG entered his office and sat down at the desk, although he hadn’t asked Archibald to enter, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

“So, Archibald Dunhan, that name doesn’t sound unfamiliar to me.” Commented the professor.

“Well, it’s not exactly a common name these days.” Archibald replied, accepting the name as if he had always used it.

“No, it’s not… Archibald, Archibald Dunhan, Archie, Archie Dunhan! But of course! Wall Archie! You could have been a legend at Arsenal, material for the England team, if it weren’t for that nasty injury in that game against Manchester City; but from what I know, your career as a player agent isn’t going too badly.”

“I… I think you’re confusing me with someone.” Archibald timidly replied, still standing at the door. Just the idea of thinking of himself as a former footballer was hilarious. Although he was indeed a die-hard Arsenal fan and risked a few matches with his mates on weekends. No, not that…

“No, I’m not mistaken; you were a leak-proof goalkeeper, you were a wall indeed, Archie; don’t let something that wasn’t your fault bring you down.”

“That accident ruined me, mate…” Archie found himself responding automatically. What the hell was he talking about?

“I know, but managing guys like Haaland and De Bruyne is also a success story. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Believe me, no one has ever accused me of being too humble!” Why would he say something like that???

“Then we’ve got the same problem!” replied Garret, bursting into laughter, and Archie joined in, unable to contain himself, stopping with a startled look only when the other man spoke to him again.

“What are you doing standing there, Archie? Come in, come in; we’ve got Duke’s future to discuss.”

Hearing that name stirred something in Archie; there was something very wrong with all of this, but then he took a step into the room, and everything changed. In a blur of movement and colour, his muscles expanded, height increased impressively, and fat seemed to evaporate from his body. When he stopped smiling in front of the other man, any trace of humility or shame had left his body. He was one of the most successful sports agents in the country; there was no reason to worry about that sort of thing.

“BIG, you’ve got 5 minutes to convince me to bring my son to this school, mate.”

“Archie, you know me you wanker; I can do it in three.”

….

“Take a seat, chubby; I’m not going to give you a hard time.” Said the muscular black lad to Duncan, although he clearly was already doing that. The moment Duncan’s dad and the teacher left their line of sight, Farrel dropped the politeness, throwing aside all false pleasantries, revealing himself to be exactly the type of person Duncan believed and feared he would be. He didn’t show anything Duncan might find relevant about the school’s facilities, leading the lad through some of the many sports facilities on site. They had courts for all sorts of sports imaginable, gym equipment, swimming pools, running tracks, and even a complete weightlifting gym. After the exhausting tour of Jockland, they finally arrived at the spacious and luxuriously furnished room where they were.

“I’d rather stand, thanks.” Duncan said, approaching the window of the room, which overlooked the well-kept football pitch of the institution.

“You know best, but carrying all that weight can’t be good for your knees.” Farrel commented venomously, as he took off the top part of the school uniform with no ceremony and flopped down on the sofa in the room. “But that won’t last long; BIG will have you sweating off all that flab in no time.”

“I wish you’d stop making comments about my body.”

“When you’ve got the physique of a real man, I’ll stop, chubby. And trust me, you will; in no time, no one will recognise you, not even you.”

“I’m fine as I am; I don’t intend to change anything.”

“As if anyone here gives a toss about what you think, lad. I repeat, soon you’ll be one of the lads at Lionheart and won’t even remember the wimp you are now. And even if you did, you’d be ashamed of what you let this society do to you.”

“I won’t let myself change; you can do what you want with me, humiliate me, torture me; I won’t change.” Duncan replied, feeling an uncharacteristic rage and turning from the window, seeing for the first time Farrel’s bare chest, which made him blush deeply, while the other lad shot him an intrigued look.

“Seeing something you like, chubby? You a queer or something? Not that I have a problem with it; It’s an all boys school after all, and the lads have their needs. Besides I know what my body does to others." He said, flexing his powerful muscles as if he was at some kind of obscene show, which made Duncan look back at the window, only turning around when the other spoke again, hitting the target this time."No, no… it’s a different kind of desire, isn’t it? Ever thought about having a body like this? Ever wished for muscles like these?” He conclude, looking distracted for a moment, as if he were reliving an old memory.

“I don’t need that; I’ve got my mind, and it’s more powerful than any bulging muscle.”

“Loooser! I wish I could record this and show it to my new bro when he comes out of you; it’ll surely make him die of embarrassment.”

“I… what?”

“You know where we are, Duke? At the headquarters of one of the Lionheart clubs, my club; not just anyone gets in here, but I decided you’d be one of the lucky ones. I’m the captain of the rugby team and would love to have you with us, but the boss has other plans. Speaking of which, you know what’s even more curious? The club is located exactly one floor above Coach BIG’s office. An office that has a direct exit to the football pitch. That exit, I believe, must have been used quite recently, so while you’re at the window, tell me what you see.” Farrel asked, his eyes sparkling and his voice filled with an uncontrollable mix of eagerness and excitement.

Without really knowing why he was obeying the other lad, Duncan looked outside, initially seeing nothing of note, but then his gaze landed on the pitch, and what he saw shocked him. Professor Garrett, who at that moment should have been with Duncan’s father, was walking across the pitch, bare-chested and laughing animatedly with a blonde man who was just as monstrous and muscular as he was. But if Garret was there, where was Alexand… Archibald?

“I don’t get it? Where’s my dad?”

“With all that talk about intellect, I thought you’d be smarter, Duke.”

“My name isn’t…”

“Duke!” Duncan read the lips of the gigantic blond man more than he heard him speak as he waved vigorously, beckoning him to join him and Garret on the pitch. Why would a complete stranger act that way? Unless… unless he wasn’t a complete stranger.

“No… it’s impossible…”

“Finally, you got it, chubby, although I think this will be the last time I can call you that.”

“No… dad?” Duncan asked, although the man who continued to wave excitedly couldn’t hear him. “What did they do to you?”

“Oh, old BIG has a thing for The gentlemen’s sport; even though he’s never been a pro himself. I’d say we’d put you on my team, and that would be that. But for a former pro rugby player, he doesn’t value us much. He says nothing gets as much visibility as football, and our team is about to lose the captain to a contract, and we still don’t have a worthy replacement. Plus, the old rogue managed to create a connection with someone who can get him the best seats at the games.”

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t need to understand, Duke; you just need to accept.”

“I can’t accept this… I won’t accept this…”

“Duke?”

“What!?! He screamed back, enraged in response.

“Come over here, mate.”

“I’m not your mate, mate!”

“Of course you are; you’re my little bro; me and Ash were looking forward to finally having our little brother with us! Farrel, Duke, and Ashton, best mates. FDA, like the American agency, and like them, we run the bloody show! F for a lot of food, D for drugs to grow and an A for, shit what is the A again? Let it be A for awesome because that's what we are, mate!"

“I…”

“Think about it, Duke; you want to make your dad proud.”

“Yes…” he replied, shivering at hearing that.

“Then get your arse off that window and come with me to meet him; for you, I’d even play a match of football just to see the old geezers eat dust.”

“Haha, I want to see you try to score on my dad, F! The bloke’s a wall; not that he can stop his son from scoring.”

“That’s what I want to see; let’s go, then.” Farrel insisted, and Duke finally took a step back and went to meet his fate. In an instant, the fat seemed to be sucked from his body as his muscles expanded into a strong and toned physique, far from the giant muscle mass of Farrel or his father after the forced retirement and years dedicated to bodybuilding. A slim and strong body, except for the long, powerful legs with thighs capable of exploding a watermelon if it were squeezed between them. His unkempt hair giving way to a well-groomed cut, the sad, chubby face transforming into a beautiful, almost angelic face, but still unable to completely hide the mischief within him, easily identified by the cheeky smile playing on his lips at that moment.

“Don’t know why you’re so excited, bro; with that size, dribbling you will be the easiest thing in the world.”

“Watch what you say, scrawny boy.”

“This is definition, something a ogre like you will never know what it is.”

“Come talk about agility when you compete with me in rugby.”

“And why would I stuff myself into a game with a bunch of lard arses?”

“Who are you calling fat, punk?”

“Not me, your body mass index.”

“You’re getting quite cheeky there, lad. I want to see you crack jokes on the pitch.” Farrel replied with false irritation.

“When I get past you, you won’t even notice, chubby!”

….

Aaryan Patel was absolutely fuming; he had no idea why his boss at the Independent Herald had sent him from London to that conservative hellhole that Daffodil Meadow had become. And to top it all off, he was heading straight to the epicentre of that rubbish, the King Richard Institute for Boys, aka Lionheart School. A place he had written a series of scathing articles about in recent months, which didn’t mean he wanted to walk into the lion’s den, especially when it was the lion himself who had sent the invitation. But his editor insisted it was too good an opportunity to pass up, and now here he was, walking purposefully along the edge of the grass on the school’s grand football pitch towards Director Johnson, who was at that moment in one of the few empty stands. Apparently, it was a tradition for the school and the surrounding villages to gather every evening to watch some sort of competition from the different teams, and today it was a football match. What didn’t make sense was the question Aaryan kept asking himself: why the hell did Henderson Johnson make him walk across the pitch where the students were parading around with their muscular bodies on display while the school staff prepared everything for the match?

As Aaryan made his way to his destination, he passed two muscular black blokes wearing the infamous light blue polo shirt of the sports team, one of whom was much bigger than the other. The one he wanted to take down the most. However, when the larger man glanced at Aaryan as he walked towards the nearest entrance to the stands, the lad who considered himself a brave man felt his knees go weak. Feeling angry with himself as he watched the two lugs burst into laughter, Aaryan quickened his pace and climbed the stands to meet Director Johnson.

“Mr. Patel, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person after reading the rather vehement words you used to describe me, my school, and my students.” The man said with a threatening smile. But Aaryan wasn’t going to let himself be intimidated; he was indeed brave, and although he was much leaner than the brute, he wasn’t a total wimp; he could handle whatever the other bloke had to throw at him. And any words spoken would receive an appropriate response from his sharp mind.

“Vehement is an appropriate but incomplete description of what I have to say about this place, Director Johnson. And that description could also be applied to the behaviour of the people here, although belligerent might be a more fitting term.”

“And you know a thing or two about belligerence, don’t you? Big guy like you? Bet you’ve had your fair share of scraps, haven’t you, Aaron?”

“The name’s Aaryan! And I prefer to fight with words.”

“Ha, I knew there was a fighter in you; I never miss.” The man commented as if Aaryan's response had been completely different, leaving the journalist confused for a moment. Quickly shaking off that momentary confusion, he turned back to the giant blonde.

“So, Director Johnson, what’s the purpose of summoning me here? And summon is the right word; my editor informed me that you pressured him quite insistently and intimidatingly, I should add.”

“Right, lad, I just wanted you to see for yourself what it’s really like here, what you’ve been so harsh about. You might not realise it, but what you write affects people’s lives, people I care about; my staff and my students.”

“Forgive me, Director Johnson, but the actions of those people you care about affect many others’ lives.”

“You paint us as monsters, Aaron, but do what I asked you: roam about, chat with my students and teachers; there’s one teacher in particular who’s quite eager to have a word with you.” The director said, smiling and nodding towards the pitch where Blake Garrett was watching closely as Zeke Hastings paced back and forth, correcting both teams’ players’ positions.

A chill ran down his spine at the thought of talking to that man. Forgetting to correct the misuse of his name, he responded to the director.

“Alright, I’ll do that, but I don’t think anything will change my mind. I’m sure the teachers are lost causes by now and the students are probably already conditioned to the behaviours taught here.”

“We’re not a cult, Aaron, but if you want a fresh opinion, why not have a chat with the centre-forward for the black team? The blonde lad in number 9. Duke has been at the school for less than a week; see what he has to say after the game.”

“I know how to identify a centre-forward, thanks! And I think I’ll do just that; cheers!” replied the journalist, who until a few minutes ago certainly couldn’t identify any positions.

After chatting with some students and teachers who repeated the same toxic spiel about masculine values, manliness, and the rightful place a man should occupy in society, Aaryan felt drained. Coming here had certainly been a bad idea. He thought about leaving and writing another scathing article about the evils of that place. However, he realised that the game had finally come to an end when he saw the blonde centre-forward walking to the edge of the pitch, opening a bottle of water and taking a long swig that practically emptied the bottle in one gulp. As Aaryan approached him, the lad poured the remaining water over his sweaty hair, then shook it off vigorously just as Aaryan reached him.

“Good afternoon, lad; my name’s Aaryan Patel, Director Johnson told me I could have a word with you.” He said, moving closer to the lad and using an authoritative figure as a reference to ensure the lad paid attention; he had dealt with many of those arrogant lads in the past couple of hours to give the kid a chance to mock him or simply ignore him.

“Eh?” The lad huffed, flexing his muscles and shaking the soaked t-shirt. This was pretty much the expected behaviour from any football player giving an interview after an hour and a half of strenuous exercise. What Aaryan, as any good fan of the game, should have remembered. So he repeated the information to the lad.

“My name’s Aaryan and you’re Duke, right? I want to ask you a few things about the school.”

“Sure, mate.” The lad replied, looking more awake after taking off his shirt and showing off his powerful physique, even though it was clear that not much was going on upstairs. This diminished Aaryan’s hopes of getting any productive conversation, as it was obvious the lad belonged there. Still, he decided to press on; when in Rome…

“So, what do you think of the school? Settling in well?”

“Aaron, mate, this place is brilliant! I begged for nearly two years to come here, but my dad thought I’d have better chances of getting signed if I kept training in a bigger city. It was only when Coach BIG took over the sports department that he was convinced.”

“Um… just out of curiosity, who’s your dad?”

“Haha, as if you don’t know who he is, Aaron, mate! I’m not some little kid to fall for your tricks.” The lad replied, giving a thumbs up.

“What are you on about?” Aary… Aaron asked, confused. But then something worse happened; the lad turned to the middle of the pitch where his teammates were milling about, shirtless, chatting and joking under the watchful eye of the coach, who was in turn under the direct supervision of the head of the sports department, the infamous BIG, who was precisely the person the lad was addressing.

“Oi, Coach BIG! Come meet my mate, Aaron.” And to Aaron’s horror, the man who instilled all his primal fears turned to him, serious for being interrupted, but soon a mischievous grin spread across his face.

Strutting towards the two with all the arrogance in the world, looking at Aaron with the same gaze a lion gives to a gazelle before it attacks, making Aaron’s knees tremble… but why? He should respect the bloke, of course… but no matter how big he was, Aaron could handle him… how? Certainly not with words… hey… what was he thinking here? What intrusive thoughts were those? However, he had no time to fight against those ideas so contrary to his essence because at that moment, the coach was standing before him, eclipsing everything else with his immense physical presence.

“Aaryan Patel, the man of the moment! You have no idea how much I wanted to meet you!”

“It’s Aaron… sir.” He added. The respect for the figure of coaches ingrained in him wouldn’t allow him to respond any other way. But why so much respect?

“When young Duke told me he knew you, I couldn’t resist the idea of bringing him here. But where exactly do you two know each other from?”

“Eh… what?” He had just met the lad, right? But then where did the memories of him teaching the kid fighting positions come from? Fighting? What fighting? In the midst of his confusion, it was Duke who answered.

“It’s my dad’s agency that looks after Aaron’s career, coach. In fact, he’s been following Aaron from the beginning; he’s spent more time at our house than at his own over the last few years.”

“Oh, of course. A cunning man like Archie wouldn’t let a talent like that slip through his fingers.” Agency, what agency? Big-name journalists needed agents, but a rookie like Aaron… mate, in his world, even rookies needed a decent agent; it was the difference between a million-dollar career and retirement in the gutter, and Wall Archie was the best; after all, he had experienced firsthand how cruel that world could be. Yeah, the world was a cruel place, and it was his duty to expose those ills… No, not that, what he needed to do was fight… yes, fight for improvements in society… mate, society was what it was and that was that… in this life, you either lose or win, and Aaron Blink Patel, rising star of the heavyweight MMA scene, was born to win. He earned the nickname for the short time he needed to take down opponents. Which was almost the same amount of time he dedicated to interviews with journalists. He didn’t need many words in his life, being known for keeping his opinion to himself, aware of what the media vultures could do to his career. The only time he expressed his opinions was when he was with his friends, when he let out all the intensity inside him, in conversations filled with cheeky banter and heated praises of masculinity in today’s world. And if there was someone who was the ultimate representation of masculinity, it was Aaron Fucking Blink Patel!

“No… no…”

“Aaron, mate, it’s all good?”

“Of course it is, Duke; it’s just the fighter inside him manifesting, but now it’s just a matter of a blink and it’ll all be sorted.” Coach BIG commented.

“Just a blink…” Aaron grumbled, and then… blink… and… his toned, lean torso expanded like a flower blooming, if flowers were made of huge, protruding muscles and their scent was an animalistic musk, with a touch of spices that didn’t go unnoticed even in that place full of sweaty young men… blink … and his legs exploded in size and power needed to crush opponents… blink… and the years dedicated to reading and research evaporated, replaced by training in jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Muay Thai… blink… and all the pent-up rage inside him flowed out in flowery words in sharp texts, concentrating in the massive paws that were his fists and feet… wink… and Aaron Blink Patel found himself smiling at the man and the lad before him, an image seen only by those the fighter deemed worthy. But he’d known Duke since he was younger than the kid, and after hearing the glowing praise he gave about his new coach, the man earned Aaron’s respect without needing to lift a finger.

“Sorry, what were you saying, sir?”

“You can call me Coach BIG; Aaron is what everyone calls me.”

“Yes, sir.” He replied, causing Duke to burst into laughter.

“You’re a lost cause, mate.”

“Actually, I think Aaron is a great example to follow; I wish my rowdy students had his level of respect.” Coach BIG commented, his voice cutting, making the lad’s smile fade instantly. “By the way, after I speak to the team, I’d love for you to have a word with those rascals, Aaron. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a motivational speech to give. Duke, keep him company while I’m at it.”

“Yes, coach, sir.”

“See? Just your presence has instilled some respect in this cheeky little sod.” The coach commented before returning to the pitch to address the teams.

“Could you not be such a teacher’s pet, mate?”

“I only got where I am because I respected my coaches and your dad; authority figures are there to be respected. Don’t you want to be captain of the team? Don’t you want to be a pro one day? You could already be playing for a real team if you had a bit more discipline since talent isn’t lacking. Take advantage of that man.” He said, pointing to the coach who was animatedly giving a speech. “BIG is a legend, a legend capable of making other legends; it was a scandal to find out a man like him had moved to the States, but the results he achieved with Dalton’s teams speak for themselves. And he brought in fucking Zeke Hastings to train you lot, and your dad to manage those of you who are truly capable of going pro. So yes, listen to what your coaches have to say; you may think it’s just theatre, but it’s the attitude that separates the men from the boys.” Aaron finished, flexing his powerful muscles to the point where the polo shirt he was wearing ripped under his arms.

“Wow, mate! That’s wicked! You’re a beast!” Duke said with such genuine admiration that Aaron couldn’t help but smile and repeat the feat, tearing his shirt even more before returning to a serious demeanor and looking at the younger lad.

“And you know how I became who I am today, little brother? By listening to all the shite my coaches had to say to me!” He said, pointing in the direction of Coach BIG, who was just finishing his speech, raising his voice so that everyone on the pitch and in the stands could hear him easily.

“… because this society wants to diminish you, weaken you. They want you to believe that being a man is wrong, that being what we were born to be is a shame. But they don’t know the power you carry with you, the influence you possess; many of you will be professional athletes, some already are. You’ll be seen around the world, admired, able to inspire, capable of making our brothers, hounded by our enemies, react, and more than that, you can make some of those enemies see the mistakes they’ve made and bring them back to the right path, and for those who insist on their mistakes, you’ll be able to hit them where it hurts most, where they’ve been hitting us for years, and I’m talking about their children; You will shape and save them because you have the power to correct what’s wrong in this generation, then in they do same with the next. The truth is men, and never forget it, you have power! And we’ll use it to secure a better, brighter future!

[annieqattheperipheral]

feb 7, 2024: Jessica Campbell, assistant coach, Coachella Valley Firebirds // Breaking Down Barriers series - Behind the Bench

Ran hockey development camps in the offseason

During covid/stoppage in play: players worked with soupy to keep their skills up

Dan Bylsma: when hired to head coach Firebirds called the NHLCA "I don't have any women in my network. Who should i be talking to" INCREDIBLE👏👏👏 no silo/ echo chamber for this dude

Strengths in powerplay & skating/edge skills. Hour before practice, supplementary skating training

Nothing out of the ordinary for her coaching in the AHL as she'd already been working with pro players

"i see myself as a coach. I forget the outside perspective" (forgets how it looks to those on the outside)

Grew up in Saskatchewan playing boys hockey (similar to most womens hockey players of her generation and prior), grew up wanting to play in the NHL🥹

John Hayden, Firebirds forward:

"positive & knowledgable"

"one of those coaches you want to play for, you don't want to let her down"

"Her resume in hockey speaks for itself but really she's just one of us. It's business as usual. It's tremendous to see"

Max McCormick, Firebirds captain:

"she's even keel on the bench, but there's definitely times when she gets excited and you can see her passion and energy"

"it's about who's qualified for the job ... I'm sure she'll climb the ladder and be in the NHL one day. She's just good at what she does"

Dan Bylsma: "i don't think it will happen. I know it will happen." From his lips to the hockey gods

[willalove75]

Love your work! Would you write Rebecca X Female!Reader , where she's working as an assistant coach or something clever but R is very shy and introverted ( Ted is like a father figure ). But when on the pitch next to Ted, R is a complete opposite . Rebecca is intrigued ? She's also protective of R, enjoys having her and Keeley in the office , maybe flirty . Reader is like Kara Danvers from Supergirl ☺️

Thank you SO much!!!💕💕

And I love this so much! Thank you for the request! I hope you like it!!💕

A/n: I don't know anything about Kara Danvers or Supergirl so I'm sorry if I don't hit the mark on that😅😂

Gif source

When Rebecca first hired you as an assistant coach, she didn't think too much of you. Your references were good, you knew the game better than most people she's met, you were quiet, nice, very girl next door type. Even though she wasn't sure how well you'd fit in with the rest of the managers given they were all pretty outgoing men, she took a chance and it paid off.

Whenever there was a meeting Rebecca noticed that you only ever spoke when spoken to. You were quiet but thorough with your analyses, strategies and had great opinions.

For whatever reason, Keeley immediately took a liking to you and started dragging you into Rebecca's office for "girl talk." For the most part, you just listened, only giving your opinion on things when you were asked. Rebecca was curious how someone so quiet was such a great coach to a particularly rowdy team. But she admired your softness, she loved hearing you laugh and when you spoke, she hung onto every word you said. She's been pretty busy since you were hired and she wasn't able to watch you during trainings so she really had no idea how you operated on the pitch.

Finally, Rebecca found a free afternoon to finally observe training before the first match of the season. She quietly made her way out into the stands and took a seat, her eyes trained on you.

Before training that morning, Coach Lasso asked the group what you all thought the team should focus on today. Piping up, you suggested that the team should work on the finer details of their footwork. Of course it was important to learn new plays, perfect the ones they already knew, but you felt like the boys needed a refresher on the basics.

Coaches Lasso, Beard, Roy and your other assistant manager, Nate, all paused for a moment before agreeing. The boys' footwork had become a bit sloppy, messing up passes, missing goals, all because they weren't kicking the ball with the precision they should be.

Ted and the rest of the guys all agreed and even let you take the reigns for training for the day. It wasn't something you'd done before here at Richmond, but you were really excited to finally show everyone why you deserve to be here.

Rebecca watched as the boys ran a basic play, unsure why you all decided to run such a simple play, but she kept watching to see what happens.

Colin passes the ball over to Sam and even though it looked like a solid pass, Colin wasn't using the proper technique, something Rebecca wasn't paying attention to, but you definitely were.

As soon as Sam got the ball you blew your whistle and everyone stopped.

"COLIN!" You scream across the pitch. "DO I HAVE TO CALL ROY'S NIECE TO COME OVER HERE AND TEACH YOU HOW TO KICK THE BALL?"

The managers all held back a laugh, Roy and Beard smirking with approval, and the rest of the team busted out into laughter. Rebecca on the other hand, was in shock. The sweet, quiet girl she'd gotten to know was replaced by an assertive, confident coach, a side of you she didn't even know existed. She was even more enamored with you now than she ever was before.

"Oh come on coach! It was a fine pass!" He argued.

"'Fine' won't win the whole damn thing! If you want to be 'fine' then drop down to the lower levels of the league!"

The teams laughter fades and a few of the guys whistle and you hear a few mutter "oh shit".

"Run it again!" You say, blowing the whistle again.

"Fuckin' cunt." Colin murmurs under his breath.

The boys reset and start the play over, Colin gets the ball and passes it to Sam again with a perfect execution, giving Sam the opportunity to sink the ball right into the net.

"There we go! That's what I'm talking about!" You yell before blowing your whistle.

Walking out onto the pitch you walk up to Colin and pat him on the back.

"That was perfect! Did you feel how you had way more control when you connected with the ball this time?" You say as you imitate kicking a ball.

"Yes coach, I see what you mean."

"Good! Because when you hit it just right, you don't have to worry about trying to control where the ball is gonna go, you can focus on putting as much or as little power behind the kick to get it to your teammate. Just like you did with Sam, the ball got to him faster and he was able to sink that puppy straight into the net before the other team knew what hit 'em!"

Colin nods at you and you give him another pat on the shoulder before you turn away. Walking back over to the coaches, you see Rebecca sitting in the stands watching. A blush creeps across your cheeks as you give her a little wave and she waves back. You can't read her face, you're not sure if she's impressed, indifferent or unhappy with your coaching style. As training continues you try not to focus on Rebecca and direct your attention to the boys on the field.

Rebecca watches you as training continues. She sees Ted wrap his arm around your shoulder for a moment and says something to you. He spoke too quietly and she's sitting too far away to hear what he said, but she notices you relax a little before he pulls his arm away.

When training was finally over, you all head back inside, Rebecca had left at some point, although you're not sure when. In your office, you're going over a few new plays you've come up with, seeing which player would best fit each position.

"Well howdy there boss!" You hear Ted say as the sound of heels clicking across the floor enters the office. "What'd ya think of today's trainin'?"

"I must admit I was quite impressed." She says.

Looking over your shoulder, you see Rebecca lean up against the door connecting your and Ted's offices.

"Y/n, I almost couldn't believe that was you out there." She says playfully.

The blush creeps up again and you let out a nervous giggle.

"Oh, yeah, thank you."

Rebecca raises and eyebrow at you and flashes you a smile.

"Come up to my office after work, Keeley and I are going to be spending some time up there today."

"Oh? Yeah, of course. Thanks for the invite."

Rebecca smiles at you again and walks out through the locker room.

"Colin, coach l/n really ripped you a new one out there." Isaac says.

"She was such a bitch! I kicked the ball perfect the first time." Colin responds, visibly annoyed.

"I would show your coaches some more respect if I were you, Mr. Hughes." Rebecca says with daggers in her eyes.

"Oh, Ms. Welton, yes, of course, I'm so sorry." He says, obviously taken by surprise because he didn't see her there.

"Even I could tell that first kick was utter garbage." She says before walking away.

Could she really tell? No, absolutely not. But Rebecca knew what you were doing and trusted you. She also was not about to let the players trash talk their coach, especially the only female coach. That was not going to fly in her locker room.

After work you head up to Rebecca's office to find her sitting on the couch with Keeley.

"Y/n! I'm glad you came!" Rebecca says, her face lighting up a little when she sees you.

"Of course, thanks for the invite." You reply with a soft smile.

"Come in, come take a seat," Rebecca moves closer to Keeley, opening up a spot next to her. "would you like a glass of wine?"

"I would love one, thank you."

Rebecca hands you a glass after you sit down and you take a sip, your eyes flickering between the two women.

"I have to say, I'm still shocked that that was you out on the pitch this afternoon." Rebecca says as she takes a sip.

"What happened on the pitch?!" Keeley asks.

"Our sweet, quiet little y/n became this loud, assertive coach. Those boys listened to her as well as they listen to Roy."

"No shit! So you're like an entirely different person when you coach?"

"Um, I guess." You say, the blush returning once again.

"She absolutely does." Rebecca says. "I was impressed, really."

For some reason, that took you by surprise. You didn't think you could ever do anything to impress Rebecca.

"Really?"

"Absolutely, the way you commanded the team was incredible."

"Oh my god I bet it was so hot watching you get all assertive like that!" Keeley says, causing your blush to deepen.

"I don't know about that." You mumble.

Rebecca shrugs a little and smiles at you and you take another sip of wine.

As the night progresses, the three of you talk, laugh and genuinely enjoy each others company. The wine loosened you up a bit and you're talking a little more freely than you usually do. Something that both Rebecca and Keeley seem to be happy about.

"Oh! I wanted to ask you y/n, what did Ted say to you on the pitch this afternoon?" Rebecca asks.

"When?"

"After you yelled at Colin, he put his arm around you and said something to you."

"Oh," you say, blushing once again. "he just said that I was doing a really good job and that he was proud of me."

"Aw I love Ted!" Keeley says. "He's such a sweetheart."

"He's a really good guy, it's nice to have someone so supportive on the pitch."

"I can imagine! It must be tough being the only chick out there."

"It's not too bad, I mean sometimes the guys say shit but I don't let it get to me."

Rebecca stiffens when she hears you say that the team makes comments to her. She doesn't even realize it but her grip on her wine glass tightens.

"What do they say to you?" Rebecca asks.

"Honestly I don't really pay attention, sometimes they're just teasing me, sometimes they like, pretend hit on me, say stupid things. The usual things that immature athletes usually say."

"That is absolutely unacceptable." Rebecca says, her tone growing more serious.

"It's okay really-"

"No it's not, you're their manager, they should respect you just as much as they respect the other managers."

"I guess." You say, shrugging.

"No, no, they absolutely should. And if it continues there will be hell to pay."

"Rebecca, really-"

"No babes she's right," Keeley chimes in. "you absolutely deserve the same amount of respect that the other coaches get and it's some sexist bullshit that you're not getting it."

Coming to terms with the fact that this is absolutely a losing battle, you smile at the two women.

"Thanks guys, I really appreciate it."

Rebecca wraps her arm around your shoulders and pulls you into her. The moment her skin touches yours your heartbeat quickens. AS she pulls you closer you're engulfed in her perfume. It's a beautiful, no doubt expensive, scent. It automatically relaxes you even though your heart still feels like its beating out of your chest. You look up at Rebecca and she looks down at you and smiles. Immediately her gorgeous green eyes captivate you and you get lost in them for a moment. Opening your mouth to speak, you realize your throat has gone dry so you grab your wine glass and take a sip.

"We got your back babes!" Keeley says.

"We absolutely do." Rebecca says, smiling down at you.

Later that night you lay in bed unable to fall asleep. The moment Rebecca wrapped her arm around you replays over and over again on a loop. You've never felt like that before and you can't figure out why. Was it because she's your boss? Not really. How about because she saw you in your coach mode earlier? Nah. What the hell made you so nervous in such a pretty woman's arms!

Right after that thought passed through your mind it hit you. You liked Rebecca, a lot. Way more than you ever thought or would have admitted to yourself.

Shit. You had a crush on your boss.

The next morning Rebecca calls a meeting with all of the coaches and the team. Everyone gathers in the conference room and you sit in one of the chairs, fidgeting nervously because you think you know why you're all here.

"Good morning everyone, I'm sure you're all wondering why I called this meeting this morning."

"Colin I told ya, you gotta use soap when ya shower mate!" Jamie says, making the entire team laugh.

Rebecca glares at Jamie and he shrinks back in his seat.

"Sorry Ms. Welton." He mumbles.

"It was recently brought to my attention that one of the managers here has not been given the same amount of respect as the others. Something that I witnessed myself in the locker room yesterday." She says, staring daggers at Colin, who also shrinks into his seat. "Every manager on this team, assistant or otherwise, deserves your respect and I will not tolerate anyone on this team disrespecting them in any way. If I find out that any one of you are making fun of, ostracizing or disrespecting any of the coaches on this team you will be benched for the first five games." The team takes a collective breath in, they're all a little intimidated by Rebecca and they don't take her threats lightly. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Ms. Welton." They say in unison.

"Wonderful, now unless anyone has any questions or concerns, you all are dismissed."

Ted turns to you and the other coaches, a confused look on his face.

"What the heck was all of that about?"

The coaches shrug their shoulders and you stay silent. The guys on the team have never said anything in front of the other coaches so you're not surprised that they didn't know they weren't treating you all that nicely.

Everyone leaves the conference room and you head to your office. The day goes by pretty quickly and the threats Rebecca made seem to have stuck because the boys are giving you less attitude than they normally do. When the day is finally over you make your way up to Rebecca's office to thank her for putting her foot down.

You knock on the door and hear her on the other side.

"Come in!" When she see's you after you open the door, her face lights up again. "Oh! Y/n! What a wonderful surprise." She says with a smile, closing her laptop. "Please, sit." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.

You take a seat and drink her in for a quick moment. Her hair is pulled back elegantly so you can see every beautiful feature of her face. Her green button down shirt, that's showing off her perfect breasts just enough to tease you, makes her eyes pop. If you could, you would sit here all night and just look at her.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asks with a smile.

"I just wanted to thank you, for earlier today."

"Oh you don't have to thank me! It's absolutely unacceptable to disrespect the people that rank higher than you. I wish you had told me sooner, I'm so sorry you've been dealing with that for so long." Her green eyes look sad, not like the pitied you, but sad that you've been treated like shit from your players.

"Yeah, I just tend to take things as they are. I don't like making waves."

"Well if anything like this ever happens again, I hope you do."

"Thank you, I will."

"I was surprised that Ted and the other coaches didn't even know. They can usually pick up on those things quickly."

"Yeah, the guys were pretty discrete when it came to them insulting me or something."

"Did you tell anyone? Like a boyfriend or-"

"Oh no, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh?"

"I'm not really, into guys so much." You say as you feel your cheeks starting to get warm.

"Oh." Rebecca says, almost surprised.

"I'm guessing you weren't expecting that." You say with a laugh.

"Uh, no, honestly, I was not." She also says with a laugh.

"I mean, come on, I'm a football coach for a men's team, it's kinda obvious."

"Well when you put it like that!" The two of you laugh for a minute.

Her laugh is amazing, it fills your chest with so much joy. If you could have it played on repeat for hours, you would.

"Anyway, thank you again for doing that, it means a lot."

"Of course, I can't let my staff, no less my favorite employee, be harassed by the team."

"Aw, thanks." You say, smiling at her. "I'll let you go-"

"I was just about to leave, walk with me to the carpark?"

"Of course."

The two of you walk out of the building and into the carpark in a comfortable silence. The sky is dark and there's only a few cars left, including her driver and your car. Rebecca turns towards you and you mirror her action. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and gently cups your face. Without realizing it, you unconsciously lean into her hand, when you realize what you just did your eyes widen. Rebecca only smirks and her thumb caresses your cheek.

"If I wasn't your boss," She says softly, as if she's talking to herself while she's admiring you.

Her hand leaves your face and you grab hold of it with yours.

"Even if you are, I wouldn't mind." You say, just as softly, with a smile.

Rebecca looks at you with a bit of surprise in her eyes, she was never expecting you to say that. She's had the feeling that you had a crush on her for awhile now, long before you realized you did. And she's secretly been admiring you from afar.

The thought of dating an employee sounds so incredibly unprofessional to Rebecca. But at the same time, you're not just any employee.

"I must say, I'm torn on the matter." She says with a small smile.

"Well, give me a chance to ease your worries." You say with a confidence you haven't had in awhile.

Rebecca picks up on your sudden burst of confidence and a smile crosses her face.

"Alright then, Friday night, 7pm, I'll pick you up?"

"Perfect."

"It's a date."

[turtletaubwrites]

I got the fucking job, y'all!!! 😭✨🙏🏼

(Details of the fuckery I've been dealing with for the past year below now that I'm finally getting out!!! cw: vent post, rant, toxic workplace, financial struggles, mention of impact on health, lynna being excited and sappy at the end, lol)

I loved my company. I had coached the CEO for six months before giving him my business proposal because I fell in love with the work they did in supporting adults with developmental disabilities to become more independent. The culture and values of this program was above and beyond what I'd seen at the time (and sadly still).

I was initially hired to be a director for the non profit side, but since I got hired a month before Covid, that role no longer existed. So I did what so many "older siblings/chronic people pleasers" would do. I took on EVERY other role/responsibility needed.

I helped them open and manage a new office and county. I created a HIPAA compliant filing system that would allow managers in all counties to access documents and prevent data loss when a manager was out or left the company (which had happened multiple times. The original director left after embezzling, and they literally didn't know how to get into their own billing system without her 🥴). I wrote a staff and client training curriculum with twelve months of content, and 13 modules each month of various topics, such as finances, safety, nutrition, community integration, etc (which I did mainly on my own time 🤦‍♀️ and do not have the rights to use, unfortunately). And so much more.

There were so many issues over the years, so much drama, and fraud, and not enough staff/clients, so I had to take on a full caseload of clients on top of my other duties.

I adore working with clients, but with my own disabilities, I can't physically handle a full caseload. For five years, they kept telling me that "once we hire more staff, you'll get the position/pay we promised."

Well, starting last year and into this year they had months and months of repeated late paychecks that put me in debt after the medical leave I had to take because of the stress from this job causing a manic episode. For MONTHS, at least one paycheck a month would be 1-3 weeks late with only a days notice. I didn't know how to manage my staff when none of us were getting paid.

I had to borrow money for gas so that I could take my clients to their medical appointments.

My physical and mental health have deteriorated drastically due to this job, over the last year especially, and I've been feeling hopeless.

I was about to try for unemployment until they told me that they were going bankrupt, and starting a new company. I decided to see if all the loyalty they requested of me would be reciprocated now that their debts were gone, so I gave them a proposal for the type of position they hired me for and had promised me for so long.

They didn't fucking reply for 2 weeks, then said the best they could do was a $1 raise, and that "ONCE THEY HIRE MORE STAFF THEY'LL GIVE ME THAT POSITION."

And did they give me that $1 raise? Nope. They fucking TOOK a $2 incentive pay that I'd already been receiving for months off of my pay. For the first month with the new company, their paystub didn't have my pay listed on it, so I didn't realize until the end of the month that I'd made $300 less than I should have.

They gave me a $2 "raise" when I requested compensation for the late and overcharge fees they had caused from all the late paychecks. The $2 that I had already had before they fucking took it away, and hadn't realized they'd taken away until a few days after they told me about the "raise."

This company meant everything to me. I believed the hype. I believed the lies for loyalty. I put so much of myself into it, and I have been falling to pieces for years.

But the first interview I got was for EXACTLY the job I wanted, and they liked me so much that they're offering me a dollar over the listed pay range for the position!! It'll still be tight for awhile since it's the same pay I had without the $2 incentive, but I won't be driving clients all over the county everyday. Plus the structure! The consistent schedule! It's got all the things I loved about the other job, but now it has actual support, it's accessible for my needs, and I get to focus on my strengths and skills that I want to use. I can't get over the extra dollar part though. It hasn't sunk in yet, but I knew I killed the interview. It was last Thursday, and they said I'd hear from them by the end of this week. But they called me at the beginning of the week to offer me more money than they would normally give for this job! All of their questions were amazing. We were vibin' about compassion and patience, fidget toys, how to motivate staff without reprimanding them, and what progress/success looks like for people with severe mental illnesses/developmental disabilities. It felt like every single question brought out one of my strengths or passions, and they asked if we could go over the normal time for the interview. Then they thanked me at the end when I requested a 2-3 week out start date so that I could make sure my clients were set up before I leave. They all literally paused, and thanked me for asking that. The actual compassion I felt from these people for their clients was intense, and I'm so excited to work in that environment. This job is exactly what I was looking for, only BETTER. I get to use what I learned from that shit show. I still get to help people. And I get to take care of myself while doing it.

3 WEEKS!!!!

I've got so much shit to do to prepare for the job, and I'm going to try to get my current clients as set up as I can before I go. I'm trying to figure out a professional way to tell them to find a different program. I've been dealing with a lot of guilt over leaving my clients because they don't have anyone else, but this last year as beaten me into the ground. I have to leave.

So fuck that company, and the shitty couple that made me all those promises. I'm going to work my fucking ass off for the next three weeks, but it's not for them. It's for the clients who deserve better.

Oh, so many feelings, y'all!

I'm so excited to have a regular schedule, and not ever have to cover shifts, or work late or weekends all the time. I'm so excited to not be drained from driving and walking all over the place six days a week.

I'm excited because I've been wanting to have the time and the spoons to take some classes on writing and editing, because this is what I really want to do!

I can't wait to have a job that I don't have to carry home with me, so I can just tippy tappy on my keyboard to my heart's content. 🥰

I love writing so much, and there is absolutely no way I would have survived this last year if I hadn't started writing and interacting with all of you wonderful souls during my medical leave.

Thank you all so very much 🙏🏼

~ Lynna 💜✨

[books-and-kids]

My safe families coach (caseworker equivalent) is going to call me today to discuss the details of someone else taking Deshaun. I feel so guilty and inadequate not to be able to finish out his hosting but I can’t figure out a way to. I’m sick and not getting enough sleep, to the point that I felt lightheaded and dizzy last night, but I could grit my teeth and make it through that for 2 more weeks. The problem is work. He’s not allowed back to daycare until he tests negative and is symptom free for 5 days. That’s totally reasonable from daycare’s perspective, but he’s still coughing and very snotty so I suspect it will be many days until he meets that criteria. And while hes home I can only half-work. He needs constant access to me. I’m wearing him in the carrier for many hours each day, but he won’t accept that all day and the rest of the time he has to be near me, climbing all over my lap. If I ignore him he cries. If I try to type, he grabs at the laptop. I can take some calls, but it’s a crapshoot what his mood will be like. Yesterday I had an important external call that I had to take off camera and mic, listening to someone else explain my work while Deshaun screamed in the background.

My job has been incredibly flexible and supportive but it’s been a week (we tested positive last Thursday night) and I don’t want to push it. Right now is busy for me also — I’m leading an important project with a firm deadline based on external factors we can’t change, and it’s already behind schedule. If I don’t finish my pieces of it within the next 1-2 weeks, it won’t happen in time.

There’s just no slack. If daycare is out as the childcare option, there’s nothing left. No partner to trade off childcare with. I’m not allowed to hire a babysitter (safe families would require them to be certified, there’s no prudent parenting standard), and even if I was I can’t imagine finding someone who’d risk getting sick, and even if I could I couldn’t afford it. I have family in the area, but nobody who’d volunteer to babysit a sick child while I work. (Mostly when I hear about people with that kind of family support it’s from their mom, and my mom is dead.)

What am I missing? I know single parents exist and manage sick kids. Do they accept the need to take significant PTO and the limits that places on their ability to perform at work? Do they accept getting no sleep so they can catch up on work after the baby is asleep? I guess if I was truly committed I’d do some combination of those things. Am I a terrible person because I’m not willing to? (I should also say — my job is really important to me. I work for a nonprofit doing the most important work I can think of. In terms of helping people, my job does that more than hosting does. And, I’m in my early career and I want to build my reputation as a top performer. I know there are different considerations for different people.)

Of the three hostings I’ve done that involved daycare, all three have had kids home unexpectedly. Charlie was home for a day and played independently and it went fine. Bella was home for 7 consecutive work days and it wasn’t great, but she watched a lot of Barbie Dreamtopia and we muddled through. Now with Deshaun, today is the 5th consecutive work day (one day off and then 4 days working while also caring for him). Is that level of daytime childcare need typical in yalls experience? If I’m not able to manage it, does that mean I’m not cut out for hosting and should stop doing it?

[blainesebastian]

blowin’ smoke (ccg universe)

words: 1,401 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (Bri requested) can I request some Austin smoking/vaping whatever it is he does in CCG universe 👀 notes: probably occurs between pt6 and 7 of ccg--not wildly important but just figure earlier in their relationship, while Austin is still on set for Elvis. you also could read this without any context of ccg, if you wanted warnings: shotgunning  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylesmendeshearted

The stress, anxiety and toll of being in a film that has so much riding on it is something that you can only imagine. They mix with the positive emotions too—the excitement, thrills and passion but that doesn’t make it any less overwhelming. Your dream is to write, to actually put something down on paper that makes people feel and you hope to do that one day in which it can successfully transfer to screen. You’re not about to stop holding your breath, writers are a dime a dozen in this industry. But you definitely find yourself some nights, on your very tiny balcony of your apartment, drinking a tall glass of wine as you consider what your future might be (or sometimes worse, what it might never be).

Everyone has their own set of vices, so it doesn’t surprise you in the least that Austin smokes every so often.

He doesn’t do it a lot—he’s not a singer outright or anything, but he also knows how important it is that he maintains his voice for this role. He is in the recording studio and singing live and the drawl he’s worked so hard to perfect is nothing he wants to mess up. He had to hire a dialect coach in the first place and honestly, he might have to hire another one at the end of the film to ‘un-Elvis’ his voice.

Though, to be fair, you actually kind of like it…and wouldn’t mind in the least if it stuck around.

While the concept of Austin smoking doesn’t surprise you, it’s something you have to get used to when you see it. It just…Austin feels like someone who wouldn’t have a nasty habit, though you can’t outright say that drinking a half a bottle of wine isn’t either. Regardless, you’re not about to judge him or nag about it—the smoke makes you sneeze sometimes and you’re not a fan of it sticking to Austin’s clothes. He knows better than to try and kiss you afterwards too, even though that’s not something you can always hold up.

The man himself is addicting.

Stepping out of your car on a cooler night, you promised Austin that you’d meet him at a bar he’s hanging out at with a few castmates. It’s later than you wanted to be out, but, admittedly you were trying to wait until most of them had gone home already. Your relationship with Austin isn’t public and while he doesn’t seem to care if some people he works with knows about it? you’re a bit uneasy. Austin’s a private person, he’s not about to shell out his business, but…it can be happenstance that a few other people from set have wandered to the same bar Austin and his castmates are at. Happens all the time, the bar is pretty close to set.

While hanging around Austin sounds nice for a few beers, keeping your hands and mouth to yourself will prove to be the more difficult thing.

Pulling your sweater tighter around yourself, you should have worn an actual coat, a soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as you stroll up to the bar and see Austin outside of it already. He’s leaning against the brick wall near the front door, black jeans and a black leather jacket that goes far too well with the inky darkness of his soft curls. His eyes feel so much of a sharper blue because of it. He’s got his hands cupped around his mouth, lighting a cigarette, the warm orange glow of the embers flickering a moment before they disappear.

He takes in a long drag and blows the smoke out, turning his head a little and spotting you. He gives you a soft wave with his hand, reaching for you once you’re close enough to wrap an arm around your waist. Glancing around, you figure the street is pretty empty—

“Paps aren’t out,” He assures and he seems pretty confident, “Sometimes my agent will ‘leak’ out spottings or my agenda.”

You raise your eyebrows, “And they don’t catch on that you’re not actually there?”

“Sometimes I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” Austin smirks, licking his lips as he taps ash off the cigarette.

Humming lightly, you lean into his side, “So your agent is like Gossip Girl.”

A laugh tumbles out of his chest and he shrugs his one shoulder, squeezing your hip. “Not as glamourous.”

Pulling a little away from him, you look towards the entrance of the bar as it opens but no one you recognize comes out. These people don’t give you a second glance, which is actually kind of comforting. Running a hand through your hair, you debate whether you want to grab a beer and tug Austin back inside or just head home. There’s always the great idea of getting late night food and wandering back to his trailer.

The wind changes direction and you crinkle your nose as a small cloud of smoke lingers around you. Austin moves his arm and dissipates it with his hand, “Sorry, I know you it bothers you.”  

“It’s alright,” You smile a little, “I’ll live.”

And the thing is, which is probably so messed up to think about? Is that with this whole black on black look, the booties, the leather jacket, the dark waves in Austin’s hair, the whole smoking thing is kinda working for him. It’s utterly distracting to watch his lips wrap along the canister, slender fingers with a few rings pulling it away to tap ash off.

Austin notices you watching but he misreads your thoughts, “Have you ever smoked before?”

“Yeah, I mean—handful of times in college,” You shrug, “Maybe once in high school.”

Austin smiles, adjusting his leaning on the brick wall, “Oh so you’re a rebel?” He teases, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why couldn’t you tell? Thought it was pretty obvious.” You throw back with a grin and he chuckles, stealing a quick kiss to your cheek.

There’s this thought lingering along the iris of his eyes, you can see it, contemplation as he turns the words over in his mind before he finally says it, “Have you ever done shotgunning?”

You narrow your gaze, “I am not about to do that with you.”

Austin chuckles and geez is he a bad influence. You roll your eyes, trying to pretend you’re not going to do this even though you think both of you realize you’re going to. It’s not even that big of a deal, him blowing smoke into your mouth. Doesn’t work as well with cigarettes as it does other things you can smoke but…the effects are still there, the sensation of drawing smoke, the feeling of his lips on yours. Heat begins to gather between your legs as you consider it and you blame the draw of Austin’s entire being, the want to have him that much closer.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you know he already has you, “You’re the worst.”

Austin hums, shrugging his one shoulder as he lifts the cig and takes a small hit. Leaning down, he cups your cheek and you open your mouth slightly as he moves to kiss you. There’s a smoldering ache that happens in your lower belly, seeping downward, and you breathe in as Austin blows.

Your eyes kinda water but you give yourself kudos for not automatically coughing, letting the smoke settle in your lungs before blowing it out. Your head spins, it’s definitely a small rush from the nicotine. Austin looks far too pleased with himself, running his thumb along your lower lip as he drops the cigarette and crushes it with the toe of his boot.

Before you can say anything, he leans down to kiss you again, properly this time. His lips move along yours and neither of you seem concerned at pulling away any time soon. Once you do, he brushes your noses together in a bunny kiss.

“Trailer?”

You run your hand along the lapel of his leather jacket, nodding, “Read my mind.”

Austin smiles, moving to slide his jacket off so he can wrap it around your shoulders. You lean into the warmth of it surrounding you, his arm settling along your shoulders as you begin walking. Taking a small breath in, you catch the scent of leather, Austin’s cologne, and a twinge of smoke.

--

Took a slightly different take with your request but I hope you still enjoyed it! thanks to anyone who reads, comments, likes or reblogs. Appreciate you!!

[jamiesfootball]

weird: wing, cat, teach, fight

Wooh these are long. Thanks for the words!

Weird

Jamie did something weird with his mouth. Roy belated realised that Jamie probably had no idea what he was talking about. “They were these plastic green soldiers that he handed out like tokens when he first got here,” Roy explained. “No, I remember. I was there for that,” Jamie mumbled. He scraped his baked chicken around with his fork. “D’you have yours then?” “I never got one.” Jamie looked up curiously. “You didn’t?” “No. Why would he give me one?” Jamie frowned, the expression caught halfway between confused and prick. “Because he likes you.”

Wing

Roy can feel the words carving into his heart. He doesn't fight it. He lets them tuck inside, right next to all the other shit that haunts him. 'I had a poster of you on my wall.' 'I don't remember.' 'It's like I lost my wings.' They're like messages carved into an old, withering tree. Nothing's ever going to grow there again. Decades later, he'll come back and it'll still be there: 'He fucking hurt me, Roy.'

Teach

"Get the cutting board out," he instructed, steadily avoiding eye contact. "Not that one; the one for meat." Jamie swerved away from the decorative wooden one to grab the small plastic one by his fruit bowl. "And a paring knife - the tiny, sharp one. We're going to filet the fish, check it for bones, and set it to marinate." "Yes, coach!" Jamie sing-songed, grabbing the tools as instructed. Keeley's eye burned a hole in the side his head. He summoned every bit of willpower he has to keep his face neutral. When he turned to face her, she leaned forward against the counter, studying Roy like a bug under a microscope. "Roy," she dragged syllable out, "Did you come over just to make Jamie dinner?" "He's teaching me to cook!" Jamie interjected without a hint of shame or self-preservation.

Fight

“Did you give him the elevator speech?” “It didn’t take an elevator to convince me.” Keeley put her hand on his arm. “No, an elevator speech is like a business pitch. It’s supposed to be short and snappy. just long enough to give it on an elevator, memorable. So that they’ll hire you, yeah? Watch.” Keeley folded her hands together. Smiling wide, she said, “Do you hate your fucking brand?” Jame snorted into his water. Keeley burst into giggles. The smile fighting for real estate on Roy’s face took over like a landlord. Keeley corralled her composure. Sitting with her back straight as a queen's, she said seriously, “No, really. For real- do you hate your fucking brand? Because a lot of people these days, they have a brand that they think works — or they think it works for their industry—but it’s got no love behind it. Your well-meaning public relations department found all the safest investors, and your marketing team mirrored the same thing back at them- but what about you? "I'm Keeley Jones, and with KJPR, we bring a couture experience to finding you the best connections and expertise to elevate your brand into something you love. Because your image? Should be about you."

Cat -

Edit: cat moved to separate post

[hardtchill]

“USSF gave up on the Olympics when they hired Emma”

This is exactly what Tobin said about the hire and everyone online gave her shit for it. Christen didn’t even agree with the statement, either. I know she’s mad but hopefully she’s feeling a little vindicated.

I mean honestly Tobin was so incredibly right about that. Like, how is a team supposed to prepare for a major tournament with their coach busy 5000 miles away focussing on her club team? If this was 2019 then yeah okay, could have maybe made it work cause the team was solid. Now it's a team that needs intense coaching so i don't get why anyone would pretend this could work.

We saw what happened with Mark Parsons for the Dutch. Yeah he is an idiot but the Dutch saw firsthand how stupid it is to expect a coach to manage a club team and a NT at the same time, especially on two different continents and that was for a way shorter time than Emma.

It's the Olympics which is always a completely bonkers competition with so many top level teams who should be there not being there. Draw will determine a lot (way too much) so who knows what can happen but if they get a decent result it won't be because USSF cared about the outcome.

[imaginespazzi]

Bestie bestie bestie!

Hello :) Where to even begin after so much time.. I guess first I'll note that my last anon to you is starred below just so we can follow the thread of last convo somewhat (and honestly just wanted to ensure you knew I at one point wrote in over you hiatuses)..

Ok on to more new stuff: Biggest news is Im off to the wifeys motherland (ironic a bit as I believe shes currently playing in my fatherland). I'll report back on food a day drink 😋 ca va?

Yay Liberty, they did it! 🗽Plenty of kudos to the Lynx as well. Was a great series all around. Even if my nerves barely withstood those overtimes & dramatic endings.

Coaching movement in the W continues to make my head spin. OMG the Thibaults are gone, didnt see that coming tbh! I remain seated for all the hirings/happenings to come. And cant believe we're almost to the lottery selection w still so much upheaval in place 🤯

Hope all is well w you despite lifes busyness. Take care

** Hi hi hi bestie! Yes that anon was me ha. I realized after sending that I left of my emoji signature, but was pretty sure youd connect things, given some hyper specific topics ha. Hope life is treating you alright apart from just being busy!

Im personally just relieved that the Libs managed to even things up last night, while still trying to process the 2nd half & OT of game 1 lol. That one was all just absolutely bonkers. Crazy entertaining, even if it hurt my NY supporting heart at the time.

When it comes to the coaching moves, def in agreement that Indy doesnt deserve good things. What do you make of who the Valks named HC? Seems a good hire to me at a quick glance, but Im also leery of anyone who might be involved w the Aces lawsuit ordeal (tbf Im not super well informed on that, but dont believe Ive ever seen her referenced w that stuff). Yeah objectively I dont feel that a (random) late winning run/playoff push, external circumstances w the standings aside, was worth dropping your odds of getting #1/Paige from like 30 to 10 %. Still struggle to understand why they ended up trying to fight the path that established itself early on. Granted kind of unexpected and extreme circumstances, but still, lemons to lemonade if you will. Im not feeling eager for the draw next month..

Honestly it will be interesting now to see/follow any Liz activity while she hits the offseason as college ball starts up soon. Curious to see if any crumbs or reactions come up at all. W those two seeming to be at an avoidance phase, another college wbb couple needs to step up and provide us w some (non toxic) drama to follow over the season ha! Not you tho Pazzi, you stay lovely/wholesome/stable/healthy

One additional GH note - I obvi live for snark, so wanted to share my fav lines from Ch 10

“Won’t somebody please think about the complications” Jana in full menace mode and so funny. "I mean other than the woman you married as well that is" The fact that Azzi will not ever say her name I just love. I also have this idea that Stephie, when older and knows pretty much everything re her parents history, will continue the she who shall not be named thing in support of her mama. (And Im not entirely discounting the possibility of a bit of real time drama w Olivia that wont help w this whole Azzi grudge).

Wishing you a good start to the week!! -☕️ **

Hi hi lovely I missed you <3

Ah babes that must have gotten lost in my sea of asks because I've been so bad about answering them. It's funny how much has change since whenever you sent that thought because the W has become a revolving door of coaching changes.

I really like the Valks HC choice. She's been very effective with the LVAces and I expect that to continue. Same with the recent news we go today of Tyler Marsh with the Sky. I think LVAces coaching staff in general is so strong and them branching off is good for the league and both the Valks and the Sky with these coaches and a little bit of time for player development should eventually be really good. Ultimately the lawsuit is a front office issue and I don't think these two had much to do with it and so until I see issues in their new respective teams, I don't think we can hold it against them.

LIBERTYYYYYYY. So happy for them and of course props to the Lynx. And honestly thank you to both teams for giving us what I think, despite that one foul, is the greatest W finals we've ever had.

THE THIBAULTS ARE GONE. You were one of the first people I thought of when I saw that news. Honestly I have no idea what to think. I really didn't see it coming and as much as I've done a lot of nepo baby this nepo baby that, I don't necessarily know if this is the right choice but I'll wait to see who they appoint as the head coach to really figure out my thoughts.

Lottery in 2 weeks?? What the actual hell? Like y'all we're likely gonna know where Paige is going before we even see Azzi on the court and that's insane to me.

OOOOH I have some CWBB drama if anyone wants it. Did y'all peep Last-Tear's Poa's shady insta caption she deleted? Her and Sam'yah Smith were a thing and streets are saying maybe she cheated?

Pazzi are being wholesome as always. "Silly girl" - what if I jump off a cliff :)

[joenicassio]

The Power of Promising Progress

When it comes to marketing your services or products, it’s common to feel uneasy about making specific promises, especially when outcomes depend on factors beyond your control. In business, there are no guarantees.

However, what you can promise—and should—is progress. Promising progress is not just a wise approach; it’s an authentic way to build trust and create lasting relationships with your customers and clients.

As a business coach, I, Joe Nicassio, don’t promise that you’ll hit a certain revenue goal or that success will look the same for everyone.

But here’s what I do promise: You will make progress. Every time. Consistently. Measurably.

In this article, I’ll share seven promises of progress that any business owner can confidently make. And, as you read, know that when you work with me, you’ll experience all of these forms of progress, helping you move steadily toward the success you seek.

Hiring Joe Nicassio isn’t just a smart decision—it’s a decision that guarantees you’ll keep moving forward.

1. Promise Improved Clarity

Every business starts with a vision, but along the way, that vision can become clouded by noise, distractions, and the daily grind. Promise your clients that with every interaction, you’ll help them achieve greater clarity in their goals, direction, and purpose. Clarity is progress—and it’s the fuel that drives long-term success.

2. Promise Better Systems

Disorganization can kill growth. A business with streamlined systems runs more efficiently, saving time and money. You don’t need to promise instant perfection, but you can promise that your clients will leave each meeting with actionable steps to improve the systems that support their operations. Better systems equal better results.

3. Promise Increased Confidence

Success is often a mindset. As you work with your clients, promise them that with each step forward, their confidence will grow—whether in their decision-making, their leadership skills, or their ability to market and sell. Confidence doesn’t come overnight, but it builds with each small win. And it’s progress you can bank on.

4. Promise Enhanced Customer Relationships

Every business is built on relationships. Promise that as your clients work with you, they will gain deeper insights into their customers’ needs, desires, and feedback. With this knowledge, they can nurture stronger, more meaningful connections, resulting in loyal customers and long-term success.

5. Promise Improved Financial Awareness

While you may not be able to guarantee a specific revenue outcome, you can promise your clients will gain better visibility into their numbers. Understanding cash flow, profit margins, and financial opportunities is key to making smarter decisions. When they see their numbers more clearly, they’ll know where to invest, cut, or expand—and that is progress.

6. Promise Creative Problem-Solving

In business, obstacles are inevitable. However, you can promise that you’ll help your clients develop creative solutions to tackle their biggest challenges. Whether it’s innovating new products, overcoming operational bottlenecks, or finding fresh marketing approaches, creativity is an asset that leads to progress. With every obstacle overcome, growth follows.

7. Promise Continuous Learning

In the fast-paced world of business, stagnation is the enemy. Promise your clients that they will always be learning—about themselves, their business, and their industry. Every new insight, piece of feedback, or lesson learned moves them closer to success. Progress is inevitable when you commit to lifelong learning.

Why Hiring Joe Nicassio Guarantees Progress

As you navigate the challenges and opportunities of growing your business, progress should never be in question. That’s why, when you hire me, Joe Nicassio, I promise progress. You won’t just stay stuck where you are.

You will move forward.

You will gain clarity, confidence, and improved systems.

You’ll make smarter financial decisions and build stronger customer relationships.

With me as your coach, you will see measurable, tangible progress every single step of the way.

I can’t promise specific results—no one can—but what I can promise is that you will never walk away without having moved closer to your goals.

Whether you’re building your business from the ground up or seeking to grow what you’ve already built, working with me is a wise decision that guarantees one thing: progress.

Let’s make progress together.

By sharing these seven promises of progress with your clients, you’ll build trust and create a business that thrives on authenticity and real results. If you’re ready to experience this kind of progress in your own business, let’s connect. It’s time to take that next step forward.

Joe Nicassio

Business Coach & Mentor

Helping You Create Your Ideal Business

[itsclydebitches]

Oh, when I talked about flop era for Ted I meant for him as a person. I think he should have been a great coach and more involved with the team, I just also think that “my ex wife is dating OUR marriage counselor” is a big, giant bomb that cannot be resolved with positivity. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want a “Ted finally snapped” plot line, but Michelle dating their therapist is such a huge betrayal that dropping it like they did is just… uhhh. It’s rushed and it doesn’t change Ted at all. But it would change most people.

And Michelle dating the counselor is not just a betrayal of Ted, it’s a dangerous situation that can get the counselor not just fired, but he can (and should) loose his license. It’s a big deal. If he wasn’t their counselor but say, Ted’s good friend or Michelle’s childhood best friend or something and they started dating behind Ted’s back? The resolve would be appropriate. Because it hurts but it is also none of Ted’s business. But the counselor…… it’s a very dramatic plot line and Ted did not react to it properly. And that’s just one of the examples of Ted having a hard time. I’d argue that he also needs to accept that he is in fact a good dad, even if he left, and that Henry is not suffering without him.

OH my mistake, anon. Yes, full agree on that. 95% of the time I think Ted Lasso does an excellent job of navigating hard-hitting issues, but there are two choices that made me do a shocked double-take: Rebecca dating Sam and Michelle dating their therapist. To be honest I'm not a huge fan of the writing choices themselves - I think it would have worked just as well/better to end the Rebecca and Sam situation at the restaurant reveal, highlighting the pitfalls of these anonymous dating apps, and Ted could have struggled with Michelle moving on with anyone appropriate - but if we HAD to have these conflicts... at least engage with those issues fully? As you say, this is a huge deal and the story really doesn't acknowledge that. It actually makes me a little mad that the takeaway message is, "Ted needs to let his ex-wife go" and not "Ted is rightly pissed that a professional he trusted and his ex-wife betrayed him like that and that anger is hindering his growth but damn, can you blame him?" Yes, Ted does need to let Michelle move on (and move on himself) but the ability to do that is highly influenced by the fact that she's DATING THEIR THERAPIST. The same way I wanted characters like Keeley to go, "Uh... Rebecca, age difference aside, should you really be dating one of your players?" instead of this blanket support that doesn't engage with the problems in that relationship, I wanted characters to support Ted with a, "Holy shit, that's massively fucked up and he's definitely in the wrong. Here's how you can move past this while still acknowledging the difficulties of that situation." Instead we jump straight to, "Jeez, Ted, stop making assumptions about Paris."

So yeah, I wanted more from that in pretty much every respect. More of a reaction from Ted, yes, but considering that we did kinda get an extreme reaction (wanting to hire a private detective) at least more of a reaction from the cast/the narrative and an acknowledgement of what Ted is reacting to: not just Michelle moving on, but moving on with him. Even if it doesn't lead to any punishment-like resolution (such as the removal of his license) I think everyone should acknowledge how fucked up that is. How does Michelle defend that choice? How does Jacob? Why is Beard only getting annoyed at Ted instead of showing that insane defensive streak we've seen from him? Everyone's up in arms over the assumption that Henry was bullied (horrible, but pretty standard for most kids at one point or another), but no one cares that Ted is going through that frankly insane situation? Why are they all acting like this is a totally normal case of an ex moving on??

WHY IS NO ONE ACKNOWLEDGING THAT TED WORKED SO HARD TO OVERCOME HIS BIAS AGAINST THERAPY AND NOW JACOB HAS GONE AND (from Ted's perspective) PROVEN HIM RIGHT? I personally would have liked an arc where Ted backslides in that regard. Shannon is less available now and her assistance is a distant memory in the face of this new conflict, Jacob has "proven" that therapists are useless and untrustworthy, and Ted is failing to move on specifically because he wonders if he and Michelle might have rebuilt their marriage without his involvement. I mean, how hard was he really trying while falling for his client? Did he actively sabotage them? After all, why would he have tried his hardest to help them through their problems when he wanted Michelle for himself? And now this man--both accurately and inaccurately built up as a villain in Ted's head--is encroaching on Henry, trying to "steal" the role of dad while Ted is over in London and can't do anything about it. (Because yeah, full agree about Ted being a great dad, but I think he'd need a reminder of that under these circumstances, especially after his own father's suicide).

Ugh yeah, I obviously have a lot of thoughts about that choice. Ted deserved to work through his divorce and Michelle moving on... but with a hell of a lot more nuance if you're going to introduce her new lover as their marriage counselor. The arc we got works fine for any other new boyfriend, but not that.

[thespineoftherighteous]

Abby is actually not that good of a nurse nor of a responsible adult to the Foxes. And I dislike her quite a lot for that. I know she is a mother figure to lots but… She should do better. Know better.

oof oh this one is painful to me. i think i can see what you mean by not that good of a nurse in the sense that like. yeah Neil probably should'nt have been playing so soon after his injuries and Andrew probably shouldn't have been coming off his meds by himself etc. she does draw lines but she's a lot more lenient than a typical nurse would be.

but i think, as does Coach, she knows these kids and she's a million times more concerned with giving them what they need than playing by the rules, so long as they're not in danger of harming themselves or anyone else. she's not just a Nurse™, same as Wymack is not just a coach, and that's going to make her job a lot more complicated (which you even see her stressing about in the books), but that's why she has her job. Coach could've hired any random nurse that would just do her job and stay out of their business... but that's kind of difficult when you run a team the way he does. and when you see the foxes leaning on her as much as they do (rn i'm thinking of Allison Kevin and Nicky specifically) i think it's clear how much she is the one who needs to be doing her job

anyway this got too long but I'm gonna say disagree, though i can see where you're coming from

[rpking99]

Persona Part 2

Persona 5

Joker/Rin Amamiya (genderbent)

So, I always thought that Joker should have got a FeMC equivilant with Royal. And when Violet was revealed, I thought it was her. Now, I am not a big fan of her in Royal so I am using her as the 'face' for Female Joker. Partially because there is more fanart of her so more options

Joker is the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Arrested for a crime she didn't commit, she and her fellow thieves use the Metaverse to combat the manipulations of those who distort the world and change peoples hearts. Joker is a bit self conscious, but hides it behind her confident smirk and what could only be described unironically as 'swag'

Panther/Ann Takamaki

Panther is a model. Having been abused by her gym coach, Ann slowly grew into herself again after an incident with her best friend. Planning on becoming an actress the sex confident blonde is ready to face the world

Queen/Makoto Nijima

Queenis the teams strategist and leader of the team. A year older than the ithere. She use to be nothing but a doormat for authority, now she is ready to do what is right. A bit socially awkward, Makoto is confident in growing as a person. And she knows how to kick your ass

Oracle/Futaba Sakurai

Oracle, Futaba, is a big nerd and a year younger than Joked. Her mother died in front of her at a young age, and the guilt and lies that filled Futaba made her deeply repressed. She can best be described as a cinnamon bun chaotic gremlin highbrid. She is also Joker's little sister figure as Joker is staying with Futaba's adopted dad Sojiro, the man acting as Rin's guardian, and Rin and Futaba have formed a sibling-like bond

Noir/Haru Okumura

Haru Okumara, Noir, is the same age as Makoto. Big into gardening, she is the heir (slash is the CEO) of Okumara Foods after her father died. While having a sadistic side in combat, she is the 'team mother' and the sweetest thing around

Crow/Gina Akechi (Genderbent)

Sadayo Kawakami/Becky

Ms Kawakami is a teacher at Shujin Academy, the school Joker and her friends attended during their first year as a team. Ms Kawakami is a very calm, kind, teacher who has to act as a maid in order to get extra money

Tae Takemi

Tae is a doctor who lives close to the Sakura family owned cafe, Lè Blanc, and is a regular customer. Her license was revoced because another doctor faked a patient's death, a patient who was given an experimental drug by Tae to the and cure a deadly disease. She is sex on legs and she knows it, confident and sassy with a dry wit

Sae Nijima/Shadow Sae

Sae is Makoto's big sister. She was a prosecuter, but after Persona 5 became a Defence Attorney. Confident, calm and collected. She basically raised Makoto. And she do what she can for her family to be safe

Justine and Caroline (Aged Up)

Lavenza (Aged Up)

Chihaya Mifune

Hifumi Togo

Ichiko Ohya

Shiho Suzui

Persona 5 Strikers

Sophia/Sophie

Alice Hiiragi/Shadow Alice

Persona 5 OC

Akari Amamiya

(face claim is the crossdressing design for Joker. The art works too well for a female Joker but I already have Rin...)

This OC is Akari Amamiya, Rin's own mother. A former prison warden, she and her husband went through a.... But of a rough patch because of the Shido incident. Her husband believing in their daughter being a deliquent and trouble maker. Let's just say... When Rin returned home, the house was one person short....

Akari works as a negotiator. Arriving for business deals, hostage negotiations, anything. Wearing a.... Modified version of her old outfit to add intimidation/to throw off the opposition, she has a near 100% rate of success in scoring her client the best result. The reason it's not 100% is because she will never screw over those being victimised. If she's hired to make a negotiation against a weaker party, she will do all in her power to make it better for them.

...

She also sells photos of herself on some 'adult' websites, but only pictures of herself wearing some form of cloths. Never naked

Total Muses: 18/19

[powerpolyculeshowdown]

This is related to No Things At All, but I have myself a new poly ship, figured I would share, feel free to skip this if you're not feeling it.

I am just watching Ted Lasso, and and I am so HERE for the dynamics between Roy, Jamie, and Keeley.

This is a show with quite a bit (and more to come) confirmed queerness, but even though these 3 haven't slept together, I'm really getting the vibe.

For those not int the know, Ted Lasso is an Apple show about an American hired to coach UK football.

Jamie Tartt is a shithead of a prodigy player, real talented, real full of himself, Keeley is a model-turned business owner, and Roy Kent is a former football star who retired and starts coaching over the series.

Keeley has dated and loved both men at different times, and both men have Loved her and also been absolutely obsessed with each other, starting with Jamie having a Roy Kent poster in his bedroom as a teen, continuing through them playing on the same team but pretty much hating each other's guts, on to Roy Kent fucking up his knee for the final time blocking one of Jamie's goals, on to Roy coaching him and being there for him in some really tense moments, understanding him in a way few other people do, both of them learning to communicate, both of them working through jealousy or confusion as regards the other one dating Keeley, and the two of them like just genuinely getting on, learning to be friends.

(Plus when Roy first started to date Keely, he said one of his major problems was that he couldn't look at her without thinking about Jamie. XD He insisted it was hate at that time, decided in the end he loved her more than he hated Jamie and therefore they could date. XD)

But it's like beautiful and intense and there's some like sort of love triangle stuff going on in season 3 where we currently are, and the obvious solution is that like everyone should sleep with each other and it would make much better. XD 💯💯💯💚💚💚💚

Also they are all gorgeous. In conclusion, can recommend. A very good time so far.

hey tbf u dont gotta sleep together to be polyam! ive heard a lot of good things about ted lasso but i didnt know about the polyshipping potential!! thats always nice!

also polyam should be the solution to most love triangles <3

[ingek73]

Tominey: Prince Harry & Meghan ‘could be a poster couple for workshy Britain’

April 02, 2023

By Kaiser

The Telegraph’s Camilla Tominey is frantic. When Prince Harry showed up unexpectedly at a London High Court last week, Tominey could not contain her rage and fury at Harry for daring to stand up to a British tabloid. She barfed out an especially crazy piece about how Harry is a piece of sh-t for calling out the Daily Mail and calling out his father, who hires senior staff straight from the Mail’s editorial board. Tominey even admitted that Harry’s work-trip to London last week “would almost certainly have upstaged the King’s European charm offensive.” Camilla Tominey is such a loser and she defends losers. Well, she had another column in the Telegraph where she latched onto the Daily Mail’s “exclusive” story about the Duke and Duchess of Sussex’s Archewell charity tax filing, wherein they claimed (for tax purposes) that they worked one hour a week on Archewell’s charity arm. Behold, I give you “Harry and Meghan could be a poster couple for workshy Britain.” Sub-head: “But when it comes to self promotion, no one can doubt that the publicity shy couple have put in the hours.” Here’s part of her piece:

We all know that productivity has gone down since the pandemic…But who knew that the Duke and Duchess of Sussex would have what it takes to become a poster-couple for workshy Britain, even after they left the UK to become “financially independent” in the United States?

The revelation that they last year carried out just one hour’s work a week for the Archewell Foundation, their non-profit organisation, has naturally been seized upon by the sort of people who revelled in that South Park episode. To be fair to the Duke and Duchess, it is standard practice for directors in the US to list their hours, as they have done on these newly released tax records.

Moreover, we can hardly say that they haven’t been busy since they stepped back as working royals – what with their Oprah Winfrey interview, their six-part Netflix documentary and Prince Harry’s autobiography, Spare.

Indeed, the Duke has also been occupied at the High Court this week, bravely setting aside his security concerns to join a group of well-known faces in suing Associated Newspapers Limited, the publisher of the Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday, for allegedly stealing their private information, which the newspaper group denies.

Clearly, the amount of hard graft that is necessary, supposedly to protect one’s privacy, should not be underestimated.

In Harry and Meghan’s case, it has involved the traducing of a great many people to generate the requisite number of headlines to show just how intrusive the press can apparently be. We must never forgive the sacrifices they have made in the name of global royal reporting.

To be a royal is to be duty-bound in pursuit of the service of others, but Harry and Meghan’s approach has been rather more self-serving than that. For when it comes to self promotion, no one can doubt that the couple have put the hours in.

[From The Telegraph]

Imagine writing this about two people who left the UK in 2020, had their security pulled, were in fear for their lives, and were simply trying to survive for months with the kindness of a relative stranger (Tyler Perry). And in three years, this is what Harry and Meghan have done: welcomed a second child and recovered from a miscarriage; bought a home; won at least two lawsuits against the Mail; produced a wildly successful memoir; produced a wildly successful Netflix docuseries; produced a wildly successful and award-winning podcast; taken a Chief Impact Officer position with a billion-dollar life-coaching business; made a successful investment in a small oat-latte business; built a charity which has already worked on several substantive projects with tangible objectives and raised millions of dollars as well as working with corporate sponsors; organized another successful Invictus Games despite a global pandemic; continued conservation work in Africa; built an actual business and charity from the ground up, and on and on. While I wish we saw more of Harry and Meghan too, what they’ve managed to accomplish in three years is amazing.

Imagine writing all of this snide bullsh-t about “work-shy” Meghan and Harry… and then having nothing to say about Prince William and Kate, who barely do one event a week and are currently on a month-long vacation. I guess someone’s buying it?

Repeating this because it is a fantastic list:

Imagine writing this about two people who left the UK in 2020, had their security pulled, were in fear for their lives, and were simply trying to survive for months with the kindness of a relative stranger (Tyler Perry). And in three years, this is what Harry and Meghan have done: welcomed a second child and recovered from a miscarriage; bought a home; won at least two lawsuits against the Mail; produced a wildly successful memoir; produced a wildly successful Netflix docuseries; produced a wildly successful and award-winning podcast; taken a Chief Impact Officer position with a billion-dollar life-coaching business; made a successful investment in a small oat-latte business; built a charity which has already worked on several substantive projects with tangible objectives and raised millions of dollars as well as working with corporate sponsors; organized another successful Invictus Games despite a global pandemic; continued conservation work in Africa; built an actual business and charity from the ground up, and on and on. While I wish we saw more of Harry and Meghan too, what they’ve managed to accomplish in three years is amazing.