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ellecdc · 3 months

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Come Back, Be Here (part 4)

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 6.2k words

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, banter, Walburga Black, use of Y/N

Synopsis: After sacrificing yourself to save your friend and Order partner James months before, you're found on the brink of death. Now, you're moving in to 12 Grimmauld Place.

The group watched as the row of townhomes groaned and stretched to expose 12 Grimmauld place in all her glory. Sirius was certain he could hear his mother and father rolling in their graves to know that he – their disinherited blood-traitor son – was the last Black and official heir once again to the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black. He grimaced at the title.

“Two disgraced Black’s returning to the scene of the crime.” Ted Tonks joked, both Sirius and Andromeda gave him a look.

“Feels like the beginning of a bad, racist joke.” James mused.

Sirius groaned in response. “What happens when three blood-traitors, three muggle-borns and one half-blood half-breed walk into a bar?”

“Get drunk, I hope.” Lily muttered miserably.

“Well, Sirius, welcome home.” Andromeda announced as she made her way up the stairs to the front door. Sirius pushed the door open and stepped inside a house he hadn’t stepped foot into since he was sixteen years old. He had been so sure at that time that he’d never return; he wished he had been right.

The house was just as dark and gloomy as it had been when he left it, but it was now also covered in a thick layer of dust.

“Okay, please, for the love of all that is holy: Lily, Y/N, Remus, Ted: you are to touch nothing until Andromeda, James or I have checked it first.” Sirius said before pausing, “Scratch that. Touch nothing until Andromeda or I have checked it – okay?”

This earned him an indignant ‘hey!’ from James and a quick agreement from everyone else.

“YOU DISGRACEFUL, WRETCHED BOY!” Sirius’s face drained of all colour at the all-too-familiar sound of his mother’s screeching.

“That old hag is supposed to be dead!” He shouted as he and Andromeda ran up the stairs following the sound of his foul-mouthed mother.

“HOW DARE YOU STEP FOOT INTO THIS MOST NOBLE AND ANCIENT HOUSE, YOU FLITHY BLOOD TRAITOR!” the screeching continued.

The source of the chaos came from none other than an awful magical portrait of the very late Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother and Andromeda’s aunt.

“Oh, thank Godric, she is dead.” Sirius sighed in relief, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to do about the very unwelcome company haunting this house.

“Maybe we can remove it?” Andromeda mused as she tried to pull the portrait from the wall.

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF OF ME; SULLYING YOURSELF WITH THE LIKES OF MUDBLOODS YOU TRAITOROUS WHORE.”

“Charming as always, Aunt Walburga.” She muttered when her pulling was for naught.

Sirius attempted a silencio which seemed to work for at least a little as Walburga’s face contorted with rage and she continued spewing what Sirius could only assume was foul hatred for all things not Voldemort related.

“Okay so that will last like, not long enough at all. Merlin, I wish we could just burn this place down with her in it.” He muttered as they made their way back downstairs. Ted and James were cooing over a crying Harry who must have been upset at the screeching of the house’s previous occupant, while Remus and Lily muttered quietly to each other. You leaned against the wall with your arms crossed, appearing bored for all intents and purposes, but Sirius could tell you were straining your neck to peer into the rooms you could see from your post.

“Okay, semi-false alarm. Walburga is indeed still dead.” Sirius stated which was met with a cheer from James causing Harry to clap in comradery.

“However, she has cursed us with a magical portrait of herself stuck on the wall with a permanent sticking charm.” He finished, causing James to groan and Harry to start crying again.

“Okay, so, ignoring the unpleasant company for now, where do we start?” Lily interrupted.

“First of all, Red, as I said you will not be starting anywhere.” Sirius rallied.

“Sirius, this place is huge, and we need to clear a space for six of us to sleep tonight.” She countered, but the argument was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Everyone exchanged nervous glances. “Literally, no one should know we’re here.” James muttered.

“It could be Moody?” Remus offered nervously.

“Should Kreacher answer the door, Master.” A crotchety old voice sneered from behind him, causing Sirius to yelp and jump what felt like a foot in the air.

“Merlin’s tits.” James muttered as Harry started shrieking again.

“Godric, I’ve never seen you not hanging off my mother’s bosom; I sort of hoped you had died with her.” He muttered, rubbing his chest trying to convince his heart to return to a normal pace.

“Sirius.” You scolded from your place against the wall.

“Kreacher lives to serve the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, even if it’s occupants are filthy blood-traitors and their mud-bloods.” The ancient house-elf muttered.

“New management, new rule Kreacher, no more mud-blood talk.” Sirius barked.

“Yes, Master.” The elf sneered before heading toward the door. Sirius quickly pulled you and Lily, who was now holding a sniffling Harry, behind him much to the chagrin of the two women.

“Master, the wizard tells Kreacher that he’s a curse breaker sent by a Moody.” The elf mumbles over his shoulder.

Sirius relinquished his hold on the two witches and allowed the man entry.

Sirius reiterated to the curse breaker that Lily, Remus, you, and Ted were not to touch anything in any room until the curse breaker, Sirius or Andromeda cleared it first. The curse breaker showed James, Andromeda, and Sirius a few detection spells and a few simple reversal charms before they set off to different levels of the house; Sirius and Andromeda decided to focus on the bedrooms and bathrooms whilst the curse break started in the shared living spaces on the first floor, and James went to the kitchen with Kreacher.

Sirius felt like he was making decent progress. He and Andromeda had cleared out three bedrooms and two bathrooms between the second and third floors, and he had worked up a decent sweat. He had two boxes of dark artifacts to be either destroyed, uncursed or donated. The screeching had started back up in earnest again when the silencio wore off an hour after casting.

“You miserable hag.” Sirius muttered as he marched over to his mother’s portrait to recast the spell. Once the ringing in his ears stopped, he heard another shriek and a bang.

“Y/N!” Lily could be heard shouting, and Sirius bolted down the stairs. He arrived in the parlour at the same time as Remus and James.

“What happened?” Remus demanded.

“She touched a book!” Lily tattled.

“I’m fine.” You muttered as you sat up and cradled your right wrist.

Sirius sighed, fear melting into frustration which quickly melted into fondness. “You sneaky little witch.” He muttered as he moved to crouch beside you. “Let me see.”

“No.” You pouted.

“Y/N.”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Let me see your hand.”

“Bugger off.”

“You minx.”

Sirius sat there biting his cheek trying to suppress a grin at the sight of you sitting petulantly feeling embarrassed being caught having done something naughty.

“What did I say?” Sirius scolded.

You muttered something under your breath.

“What was that?” He smirked, leaning his ear closer to you for dramatic effect.

“Not to touch anything.”

“Uh huh. And what did you do?”

“I touched something.”

Sirius was full on beaming at you now.

“Thought so, let me see.”

You let out an indignant huff and held your wrist out to Sirius, who despite his crassness, took it so unbelievably gently in his own hands. It appeared that you had touched something that was cursed with a knock-back jinx, which twisted your wrist violently on impact. It could have been worse, small mercies.

“Dollface, I could have gotten you a book if you were bored.” Sirius commented as he reduced the swelling with a quick flick of his wand and placed a glacius charm to help with any more inflammation.

“Don’t tease me.” You whispered miserably, and Sirius looked up to see that your eyes were glassy.

“Are the tears because you’re hurt, because you’re scared, or because you’re embarrassed?” Sirius whispered back. Your eyes met his and a single tear fell. He lifted his hand which was met with a mild flinch before he gently wiped it away with his thumb.

“I’m not teasing, love. And you don’t have to be embarrassed; if it hadn’t been you, it would have been Moony.” Which was met with an indignant ‘Oi!’ from the werewolf who had moved down the hall in an attempt to give them privacy. “You also don’t have to be scared. Alright?”

You held his gaze before nodding with a sniff. He massaged your wrist and hand gently, recasting a glacius over the injury.

“Did I teach you this?” You asked quietly, causing Sirius’ head to shoot up from its lowered position.

“Do you remember?” He asked unbelievingly.

You moved your head back-and-forth as if to say so-so. “I remember...uhm-”

He waited with bated breath watching your face as you organized your thoughts.

“Bludgers. The smell of cigarettes and broom wax. And a broken wrist.”

Sirius was sure he heard angels singing. Her first memory is resurfacing. And it’s when I broke my wrist playing quidditch at Potter manor.

“It was you, wasn’t it? Who broke their wrist?” You clarified.

Sirius nodded dumbly. “Yes.” He croaked.

“I think you got hurt often.”

Sirius chuckled, “Yes, I certainly did.”

“That must have been exciting.” You mused.

“I’m sure I was exhausting.” He countered as he continued massaging your arm. He could probably stop now, but he really didn’t want to.

“Please; you got hurt because you were playing quidditch, I got hurt because I touched a book after I was specifically told not to touch anything.”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, come now. It’s my fault really; I should have known better than to try to tell you what to do.”

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments; Sirius continuing to work out tension in your arm.

“Which book was it?” He asked you finally. He seemed to catch you off guard, as you looked at him inquisitively. “Which book were you trying to read?”

You blushed but stood up and pointed to the offending book. Secrets of the Darkest Art.

“All this fuss over a book, babe?” he smirked at you as your blush intensified. He cast a quick counter curse over it like the curse breaker taught him and handed you the book.

“Now please, for the love of Merlin, don’t touch anything else?” He asked with a smile which was met with a shy smile of your own.

“Thanks, Siri.” You mumbled. His heart soared at your use of his old nickname, and before he even realized what he was doing, he bent down and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“Read up, my little swot. I think I heard Kreacher muttering about making dinner. Hopefully it’s not poisoned.” He said as he exited the room.

Turns out, dinner was not poisoned, and it was actually quite good. They all thanked Kreacher even though the elf acted as if the simple act of feeding them would be the thing to damn him straight to hell. The Tonks’ were quite eager to leave after the fourth rousing of Walburga and left before the dinner was served. Andromeda and Sirius had managed to de-dark-art-ify all the bedrooms on the second and third floor plus the bathrooms. They opted to leave his parents room, and his and Regulus’ rooms untouched. As much as they teased poor James, he accomplished quite a lot in the kitchen and main living room, while the curse breaker focused on the hallways and various parlour rooms on the main floor. Lily mentioned that she wouldn’t mind brightening the place up if Sirius was open to some redecorating – to which he responded with a quick “If it were up to me, Red, this place would be in flames by now”, so she advised she’d make some plans tomorrow. You and Remus fussed over Harry to save Kreacher from anymore toddler ear yanks, but if the house-elf was grateful for the interference, he didn’t show it. A message arrived stating that the cottage in Godric’s Hollow appeared to be secure; Lily looked like she wanted to cry at the prospect of being reunited with her things.

Remus said goodbye to everyone after dinner, stating he couldn’t leave the flat unattended since Sirius appears to be willing to neglect it for the next foreseeable future, which was met with a two-finger salute from Sirius and boos from James which were then chorused by Harry.

“It’s meant to be a slumber party, Moony. Just like the old days.” James whined, which sucked the air out of the room; it suddenly became very obvious to Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus that they had been betrayed by their closest friend, who was possibly responsible for the death of some of their other friends.

“Pads, we can’t keep paying for a flat that no one is using.” Remus argued.

“Uhm, I can, and I will, thank you very much. What’s the point of inheriting all of my family’s dirty money if I can’t waste it on whatever I want?”

Remus sighed, “Fine. I’m going home tonight, though. I can’t leave the cat and the plants.”

“You’re such a good daddy.” Lily smirked from the end of the table.

“Shush, you.” Remus said as he ruffled her hair before smoothing it out and kissing the top of her head. He moved to Harry and placed a kiss there too, before James stuck his head up as if he, too, was waiting for a kiss. Remus rolled his eyes before pecking both James and Sirius on the head and pausing at you.

“What? No kiss for me, Moony?” You smirked and teasingly batted your eyelashes at him. Remus laughed and placed a kiss on your head before waving and promising everyone he’d be back tomorrow, cat and plants in tow.

Much to Kreacher’s chagrin, Sirius and James insisted on cleaning up the kitchen themselves which got a “filthy blood-traitor’s” being cursed at them. He then announced he’d be going to the house in Godric’s Hollow to retrieve their belongings – surprising James and Sirius into silence.

Lily and James took the farthest room on the second floor, it was the largest which left plenty of room for a crib for Harry, and it had their own washroom. Sirius held the bags containing your things and watched as you inspected the other rooms, allowing you to choose next.

“Which room do you suppose Remus would like?” You asked him.

“Vix, it doesn’t matter. You choose.”

“If he has plants, maybe this room? It would get nice light in the evenings; I don’t think he’d appreciate the morning light.” You mused as if he hadn’t said anything at all.

Sirius couldn’t even celebrate the fact that you seemed to correctly remember something about Remus before he nagged you. “Y/N, for the love of Merlin, pick a room.”

“Well, which room are you taking?”

Sirius paused. “What?”

“Which room will you take?”

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck. “I have my old room upstairs. I was just going to stay there.”

You paused. “You aren’t going to stay down here? With us?” The ‘with me?’ was unspoken but Sirius heard it anyway.

“Oh, right. No, of course. Erm.” He looked at the three rooms. It appeared you had already decided the middle room was Remus’ – what with the sunlight for the cat or the plants or the sleeping or what-not. There were two other rooms kiddie-corner to each other. The one at the end of the hall was the largest of the two, and had windows on two walls, versus just the one wall containing windows in the other room.

“I think I’ll take this one.” He said, motioning to the smaller room. It was directly across the hall from the washroom, which was beside the last room – your room – which meant he would be close by.

“Okay.” You nodded, looking into the room you essentially forced Sirius into picking for you. “I’ll take this one then.” You smiled at him as if you chose it for yourself.

“Good choice, gorgeous.” He said as he placed your bags on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. “Can’t wait to see what Lil’s comes up with for this place – all the Slytherin green needs to go.”

You hummed and looked around the dark room. “I don’t know, the snakes and skulls are really warm and inviting, Sirius. Don’t fix what ain’t broken.” You finished the sentence in a poorly done southern American accent.

The two of you quipped back and forth about the décor in various accents as you unpacked your bags. Sirius found the scene to unbelievably domestic and lovely, basking in the effervescent glow that was your company until you both retired for bed.

Sirius pushed the door open as quietly as he could and stole a glance at you; your breathing was even as you slept curled up in the fetal position on the bed where he’d left you several hours ago.

With a sigh, Sirius made his way down the stairs to the large parlour room – not coincidentally the one he knew had his late father’s liquor stored in an antique bar cart. He knew he shouldn’t – James and Lily fussed over him for months after you went missing, watching him spiral into himself as he tried to drink away his issues. He had to work hard not to end up completely dependent on alcohol – and it still wasn’t enough for him to stay in his supervisor’s good graces.

“You’re a good Auror, Sirius, and a mighty strong wizard – but this is getting out of control, and I cannot allow you to continue putting the rest of my staff at risk.” Moody had told him, and he was placed on a medical leave until James could confirm to Moody that he had gone a full four weeks without a drink.

Sirius sat with a crystal glass of fire whiskey and cast a quick incendio to light the fireplace. I feel like the ghost of my father he thought darkly. The Black’s were all basically carbon copies of each other – the only difference between the two Black sons and Walburga was that they had their father’s silver eyes. If Kreacher walked in now, he’d probably think he was looking at a down-and-out younger Orion Black, if Orion Black ever wore checkered pyjama pants and a band tee.

The fire whiskey was leaving a comfortable warmth in his stomach and esophagus as he leaned his head back against the chair. He felt so incredibly guilty.

Guilty for trusting Peter. Guilty for ever thinking the spy could be anyone but him. Guilty for believing you to be dead all of this time – when he could have been looking for you, should have been looking for you. Guilty to shouting your business in front of your friends. Guilty for ever introducing Peter to you. Guilty. Guilty. Guilty.

His musings were interrupted by a gentle knock on the parlour room doorframe. His eyes shot open, and he pointed his wand toward the disturbance, only to find the silhouette of you donned in pyjama shorts and a pullover jumper. He sighed in relief and unceremoniously tossed his wand back onto the side table.

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.” You offered quietly.

“No worries, love. I think everyone’s a touch jumpy these days.” He muttered, taking another sip from his glass.

You surveyed him from the door for a few moments before moving to sit in the matching wingback chair beside him, separated by only a small table.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You asked.

Sirius hummed, “Not well. Not for the last five months. Maybe longer.”

You nodded in agreement as you watched the flames dance in the fireplace. You hadn’t seen Sirius like this – not since you’ve been back, at least – but something about this mood of his felt familiar to you.

“Are you alright?”

Sirius laughed humourlessly. “The captive of an evil terrorist organization is asking me if I am okay because I happened to have my feelings hurt?”

He looked over at you, expecting to find signs of frustration or annoyance at his flippancy and obvious deflection. But - like he should have expected - all he saw was patience and understanding, and it broke him.

He hiccupped loudly and put his elbows on his knees, holding his face in his hands.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered miserably.

“What is it you’re apologizing for?” You asked quietly.

“For losing you. For allowing it to happen. For introducing you to Pete. For trusting him with any of you. For believing you were dead. For feeling at all sorry for myself because I simply missed you whilst you were out there fighting for your fucking life. For telling you any of this.” He moaned.

You chuckled softly. “You do realize you’re apologizing on behalf of a lot of other people right now, right?”

Sirius raised his head to look at you.

“Don’t let them off the hook that easily.” You added seriously.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re apologizing for the way Peter treated me as if it was your fault – by doing so, you’re relieving him of an awful lot of responsibility.” You stated simply. Sirius watched the flames dance in your eyes as you watched the fire.

“You believed me to be dead, and you mourned me – that’s not a punishable offence, Sirius. In fact, I think I’d likely be miffed if you hadn’t seemed affected at all.”

Sirius smirked at that.

“And finally, you don’t need to apologize for telling me things when I was the one who asked you to.”

Sirius shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He muttered.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You stated plainly with a shrug.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You sat in companionable silence as you both watched the fire. It wasn’t often Sirius found himself to be comfortable with silence and empty moments. Silence growing up always meant room for scrutiny – or it was due to his parents ignoring him to teach him a lesson. But it had always been so, incredibly refreshing with you. He always felt safe with you when neither of you felt the need to say anything at all, and just exist together in silence.

“At the meeting, you asked me if we were just friends before.” Sirius asked quietly. He continued when you hummed in acknowledgement. “Is that because you remembered?”

You considered his question for a moment. “Perhaps a bit. I don’t necessarily remember the moments or conversations, but I think a part of me remembers the feelings.”

Sirius hummed. “And the other bit?” He prodded as he turned to look at you. You smirked in response.

“Well, you’re not exactly subtle, love.” You winked at him.

Sirius barked a laugh. “No, I don’t think subtlety is a trait I possess.” He agreed.

“Lucky me.”

He stared at you for a long while.

“I don’t know how good at it I was.” He admitted.

“At what?”

“At loving you.”

You both let that hang in the air as you held each other’s gaze.

“But it was the best thing about me – getting to love you; being loved by you.” He added.

“That’s what woke me up.”

Sirius furrowed his brows. “Hm?”

You turned your gaze back to the fire.

“In my dream – or I suppose it was a memory. You and I were fighting; I accused you of only loving yourself. You laughed before you said ‘Actually, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.’”.

Sirius remembered that fight. It was after you had finally started talking to him again after the Worst Day of His Life™. You both decided to hash out exactly what happened that night with the stupid eyelash batting Hufflepuff that ended with you sleeping in Lily and Remus’ embrace after they had to clean up his mess.

(The boys dormitory, Hogwarts)

“It doesn’t matter, Sirius. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past.”

“It does matter though, because it hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, it doesn’t matter; I’m over it and it clearly meant nothing to you.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide what means something to me.”

“I didn’t, Sirius. You did. That night – you decided what I meant to you, which apparently wasn't much. It’s fine, you’re allowed to sleep with whoever you want. The relationship clearly meant more to me than it did to you – that was my mistake.”

“You weren’t mistaken!”

“Then why wasn’t it me!?” You finally shouted at him, tears begging to fall from your lower lash line.

Sirius didn’t have an answer for that. You scoffed at his lack of response and wiped angrily at your face.

“I don’t know why we’re even doing this.”

“Because it’s important.”

“It’s not important. It’s history. I’m over it.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re over it.” The ‘over me’ in Sirius’ plea was left unsaid.

“Well, I’m not going to lie to you, Sirius.”

“I just want things to go back to the way they were before. What can I do to fix this?”

“There’s nothing to fix, Sirius.”

“Bullshit.”

You stayed quiet.

“So, what? Am I not worth it then? Am I not worth fighting for?” He accused. Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Sirius, that’s not fair.”

“You’re not giving me anything else to go off here!”

“What about me!?” You shouted. “I need to look after myself for a change, Sirius. Because what all of this has taught me is that the only person you’re truly able to love is yourself.”

Sirius couldn’t help himself. He began to laugh; a real, loud belly laugh that began to hurt his sides.

“What the fuck is so funny?”

“You’re so far from the mark you can’t even see it anymore.” He laughed as he collected himself. “You couldn’t be more wrong. In fact, Princess, I hate myself. The only person worth love here is you.”

(present)

Sirius sighed. “Why couldn’t your first memory of me be me doing something awesome; like the time I caught you when you fell off your broom or something.”

You laughed. “I had bruises from your death grip after that fall for weeks. And you were so annoying – you would hardly let me walk down the hallway without your constant supervision.”

You both seemed startled at your recounting the memory, but neither commented on it.

“Well excuse me, love. What makes you think I should trust you on the moving staircases with your nose shoved into a book if you couldn’t even handle a simple flight session on a school broom a mere twenty feet off the ground,

“Oh please, I didn’t have my nose shoved into a book.”

“You did too.”

“And I was definitely at least fifty feet off the ground – probably more.”

“Nope, wrong again.”

“Stop gaslighting me.”

“Must be exhausting being wrong all the time.”

“You son of a bitch.”

The two of you laughed; the familiarity of the banter and joking felt like a warm hug for you both. You fell into a companionable silence until the crackling of the fire was interrupted by a yawn you tried unsuccessfully to suppress.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you back to bed.” Sirius said as he stood, standing in front of you and offering you his hand.

You jokingly whined but allowed yourself to be pulled up by the black-haired man.

“You look like a hockey player” You blurted as you walked hand-in-hand up the stairs.

“Pardon me?” Sirius asked incredulously.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and he relished in the feeling. “The hair cut – it’s like a hockey player’s; they call it a ‘flow’.”

“A flow?” He smirked.

“Mhm.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Love it.” You offered immediately as if it was the most obvious answer.

You paused at your respective bedroom doors, neither seemingly wanting to part ways. Well, Sirius knew he didn’t, and he assumed the tightening of your hold on his hand meant that you felt the same.

He wanted to hold you. He wanted to wrap you up in bed and stay there with you until the world ended. He wanted your hands to be fused together so that he’d never have to be without you by his side ever again. But he also didn’t want to push you; this was your call – he would let you choose; always.

“I don’t want to be alone.” You admitted quietly, almost as if you were embarrassed by the admission.

Sirius gave your hand three quick squeezes – a code the two of you had made when you realized that Sirius sometimes struggled to express his feelings verbally.

“Three taps or squeezes means ‘I love you.’” You had said to him simply.

“Babe, every breath I take means ‘I love you.’” He countered before placing a searing kiss to your lips.

“Funny, that. Neither do I.” He replied.

“Stay with me?” You asked him, eyes shyly meeting his.

“I’d love nothing more.” He said, as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Come on, love. Let’s try to get some sleep.”

James had tossed and turned all night, waking up in cold sweats. He had been eager each time to change Harry’s diaper or do a feeding, bouncing him a little longer than strictly necessary just to avoid having to be alone with his own thoughts again. But by the third time he woke Lily up in a panic, she’d kicked him out of the room.

“Potter, I love you, but if you don’t fuck off right now, I’m going to live the rest of my life as a widow.” And with that, he was banished from their bedroom.

He padded his way down the hallway, poking his head into the other doors. The room in the middle of the hallways was vacant; probably Moony’s he mused. The next room was also empty, but the sheets were disturbed as if someone had been sleeping in here, but also couldn’t sleep.

He poked his head into the last room and spotted two figures curled up in the bed, holding onto each other as if one of them could float away at any moment.

There was a voice in James’ head that told him he should leave them; they were likely having just as hard a time sleeping as he was. Also, it’d be weird to join them. However, there was a louder voice in James’ head that was screaming to climb into bed with them; so that’s the one he listened to. James had never been very good with boundaries.

He crawled onto the other side of Sirius and slid under the covers.

“Are you serious right now?” He heard his mate mutter groggily.

James smirked as he curled up behind him. “No, you’re Sirius.”

Sirius groaned. “Five points from Gryffindor for the terrible joke that only I’m allowed to make, and another five points for touching me with your cold ass feet.” But he didn’t tell James to leave, so he took that as a win.

“How’s she?” He asked quietly.

“So good, considering.” Sirius answered.

“I can’t believe him...” James started quietly, but he needn’t finish; they both knew who he was talking about.

Sirius took a deep breath. “I feel, guilty. Bad. Y/N says I shouldn’t.”

“Of course she would, she’s perfect.” James offered easily.

Sirius smiled into the top of your sleeping head. “She is.” He agreed.

“I can’t believe she survived, all that time.”

The two men sat, marvelling at your perseverance. “I’m dying to know who her allies were.”

Sirius hummed. “Me too. I don’t know how to feel about them yet.”

James nodded. “That’s okay, I don’t much know how to feel about a lot of things.”

Sirius snorted and then tensed, worried about waking you, but your breath remained even.

“Do you blame me?”

Sirius eyes flew open at that.

“Pardon?”

James sighed before repeating himself. “Do you blame me, for Pete?”

“What about him.”

“Well, I’ve been wondering, would you and Remus ever had made friends with him had I not dragged him along with us?”

Sirius laughed. “Okay, if it were left up to Remus, no one would have ever talked to him ever and he would’ve made exactly zero friends, so I don’t think you’re asking the right questions.”

“Pads...”

“No. Of course not.” Sirius stated. James remained quiet and tense behind him.

“I think Peter made a choice. He made a lot of choices, but he made a choice.” He said as he thought of your earlier words. Don’t let him off the hook that easily. “He has a lot to atone for.”

He could feel James nod and they sat in silence for some time, watching the lights move from the street below them.

Sirius was pretty well asleep when James spoke up again.

“So, are you guys like, back together?”

Sirius scrunched his face. “What in the hells are you talking about?”

“You and Vix? Does this mean mom and dad are back together again?”

“James, she doesn’t remember me.”

“Well that just can’t be true.” James argued.

“Why’s that?”

“No one who doesn’t know you would let you sleep in their bed, Pads. You look like a bad idea.”

Sirius groaned. “She remembers some things.”

“Nice! Anything about me?” James asked excitedly.

“Yes.” You muttered sleepily. “I remember that you’re unbearably annoying.”

Sirius beamed and pressed a kiss to your hair.

Lily began to redecorate, though she muttered unhappily the entire time about not being able to run to the shops. Every wall was painted white, causing each space to look far brighter and bigger than it had before. James took down every framed piece of art and gave it to Harry and Sirius to paint over – what were once paintings full of dark objects and pureblood legacy were now Gryffindor logos, the Hogwarts castle, a golden snitch, owls, self-portraits, or, in Harry’s case, a big truck. (If you close your eyes, you can absolutely see it).

Sirius insisted the house was still chock full of “bad vibes”, but everyone else already felt less suppressed.

Your memories were slowly returning to you, and much to everyone’s chagrin and to his absolute delight, Remus seemed to be the first of your friends you completely unravelled.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” James cried.

“I’ve never been so offended in my life.” Sirius muttered.

Lily refused to speak on the matter...but she also (playfully) refused to speak a word to you at all.

“I mean, really, what’s Moons got that I don’t?” Sirius whined as he watched the golden coloured orb on your scan get accessed by the travelling lights without incident.

“Class, obviously.” Remus claimed haughtily.

“Oh, I’ll show you class.” Sirius barked before launching himself at Remus who was sitting in an armchair with a book in his hand.

The two boys men struggled with each other, Remus never leaving the armchair nor dropping his book, before Sirius began whining.

“Say it.” Remus said with a smirk.

“Moony!”

“Say it.”

“Uncle! Uncle!” Sirius cried and Remus released his hold on his arm.

“Real classy boys.” Lily said with a roll of her eyes.

It had been about a week since Vix had been home and it was about a week until the next full, so Remus could not figure out why he felt so itchy.

“Maybe you’ve got fleas.” James offered as he shoved roast potatoes in his mouth.

“I don’t have fleas, you sod.” Remus muttered.

“No, that’s usually a Padfoot problem.” Lily chortled

Sirius elicited a dramatic gasp and held his hand to his chest.

“I have never once in my life had flea’s you hag.”

“Don’t call my wife a hag!”

“Then tell her not to act like one!”

“Can we not do this at the dinner table?” You moaned with a roll of your eyes. Both men stopped the antics and looked down at their plates, shame faced.

“Sorry mum.” They chorused.

You smirked and looked over to Remus, who still looked unsettled. “It’s not usual for you to get like this, this far from the moon.” You commented.

“No.” Remus muttered miserably. “I don’t know, something just feels off.”

“Our world has been flipped upside down multiple times this week. I think it will take some time for us to get our bearings again.” Lily admitted.

The adults nodded in agreement; Harry shook his head violently.

“No? You don’t think so Haz?” James asked his son.

“No!” Harry squealed happily, lifting a handful of crushed roast potatoes in his hand.

“Don’t mind him. That’s his favourite word right now.” Lily explained.

“Is miss finished?” Kreacher’s voice appeared beside you, causing you to jump in your seat.

“Oh!” You breathed, holding a hand to your chest. “Uhm, yes. Kreacher, thank you.”

The house-elf grunted and took your plate to the sink, before returning and pulling your chair out for you. James and Sirius shared a look at the odd behaviour.

“What are you doing, Kreacher?” Sirius asked.

You looked just as confused as Kreacher helped you stand.

“Kreacher has been asked to retrieve the mudblood.” He said plainly, and with a snap of his fingers, the two of you were gone.

Continue to part five here.

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #marauders x reader #first wizarding war #first wizarding war fanfic #reader insert #escapism #self insert #canon divergence #hurt/comfort #sirius black hurt/comfort #sirius black fic #sirius black one shot #sirius black blurb #sirius black ficlet

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eyesonstars-feetonground · 11 months

Text

Jamie didn’t forgive his dad’s abuse; he let go of the control his father has over him: Ted Lasso 3x11

Watched Ted Lasso 3.11 last night, and I really regret going on social media to see peoples’ takes before watching the actual episode. Based on some reactions, I went in scared about how bad they fucked up, and came out bewildered at a general lack of media literacy and bad faith people have in shows they profess to like??

Tons of people with more relevant life experience have spoken about the controversial plot line of Jamie “forgiving” his dad, but it truly did not read to me like a story of a victim forgiving an abuser and letting them get away with stuff or even inviting said abuse back in their life. His mom, who had the most significant conversation with him in the episode imo, insists that his dad won’t change and embodies the “fuck him” attitude.

However, this episode also makes it clear that isn’t working for Jamie! He is constantly affected by the specter of his dad (looking back in the stands over and over, clearly worried about seeing him after a long gap), regardless of his dad actually being there.

Explicitly, textually, within the show, any forgiveness would be for Jamie, not his dad. But also, nothing in the show indicates that Jamie actually forgives his dad, even after talking to Ted.

Instead, to me, it reads far more like Jamie letting go of the control his dad has over him, despite not even being present. Before the conversation, the stands are a source of fear and anxiety for him (get Phil Dunster an emmy!!), but not only because the Man City supporters are booing him, but because he connects that to his dad (his mom literally says that his dad will be in the stands booing him, for him, all those Man City fans hating him could camouflage the larger threat of his dad).

After the talk, he taunts the crowd back, essentially letting go of that fear to better heal himself, taking control of a threat that isn’t really a threat at all. He is taking his mother’s advice to let his father out of his life, to stop proving anything to him, to stop setting himself up in opposition of his dad - hence the crucial climax of him making a “selfish”, solo goal, despite that being something his dad would want from him.

In regards to the text to his dad at the end, it was the most bland text I’ve ever seen. There was no forgiveness or emotion to him hoping his dad would be okay, it’s like a text you sent to an acquaintance from ten years ago because you heard their dog died. Instead, this is also Jame in fact letting go of his anxiety and fear - multiple times, he is anxious *because* the last time he talked to his dad was when his dad showed up unexpectedly in Wembley, and he’s constantly paranoid it will happen again. In my mind, this is Jamie taking control of the situation while being emotionally distant in order to cut that sense of anxiety out and make the first step toward that inevitable meeting again. He is reducing his dad from a terrifying unknown to a situation he starts and can control.

Because this time Jamie knows he will be able to handle whatever is thrown at him; not because he deserves or accepts abuse but because even if abuse is doled out to him as a result of reaching out, the rest of the episode shows how much love he is surrounded by, how much support. When the announcer says “this must be so meaningful to his family,” it is his mom + stepdad, his coaches, his fans, and his team we see first. His dad is an afterthought (though I think it is completely in character for the “forgive and humanize everyone” show to have his dad also choose to heal - completely separate from Jamie’s own journey or even his knowing.)

And that the direction he has chosen to take is in honor of that love, and for that love of his team and his real family.

People keep saying he should have cut his dad out entirely, but he is already doing that at the start of the episode, and for this specific person and situation, it isn’t working. It isn’t contributing to his healing process, and it seems kind of one note for everyone to insist that all victims be able to or willing to cut people out of their life. Peoples’ relationships to their abusers is not black and white, which the show has already demonstrated with the fact that Rebecca and Rupert can have good times together while she still has strict boundaries and knows he was and is abusive.

I thought Jamie’s story was a well done, nuanced take that didn’t give an inch to his father’s previous treatment of him, from Jamie or the people around him. I believe even Ted offers the path of forgiveness because he recognizes Jamie is in a place for it - an emotional place where he has moved beyond anger and spite, and a physical place where his dad doesn’t present physical danger to him. The episode was so sincere in showing how badly his dad’s abuse has hurt and damaged Jamie, and how forgiveness, for him, means choosing to let that relationship stay in the past and move on.

Respect to everyone’s opinions though!!! I think it’s totally okay to be critical of the show, especially when some story lines are so important and sensitive. I just truly didn’t even see the biggest issue most people have with the plot line, which is a sincere forgiveness of abuse i.e. that the abuse was okay. I definitely also think him blocking his dad would be another way to get control over his anxieties, but not one I think meshes with the tone of the show.

Anyway, sorry for the rant, but I loved the episode—though I do think next week will rip my heart out.

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso 3x11 #ted lasso: episode tag #ted lasso mom city #mom city #analysis #jamie tartt #richmond #ted lasso episode 11 #please don't message me about like how wrong I am or reply with hot takes bc this is my acknowledged opinion #i never post and will not be responding

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willalove75 · 9 months

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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."

#willalove75 #hannah waddingham #rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso #wlw fanfic #rebecca welton fanfic #ted lasso fic

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jamiesfootball · 9 months

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After careful consideration and a lot of angry tags, I think I have pinpointed for me where Ted Lasso, especially season three, fails to succeed all the way at the themes it explores.

The narrative uses the deconstruction of toxic masculinity to paint their characters as being stronger for having let go of their preconceived notions of acceptable behavior - but the narrative also never lets their characters be weak or fragile without having toxic masculinity to blame. And there are a lot of situations in this show where you would expect someone to go ‘hey man, are you okay? Are you doing alright? because that was a shit thing that happened. it’s okay if you’re not okay.’

And it never does.

There’s an undercurrent in how scenes play out that suggests that the male characters should be strong enough to deal with hand they’ve been dealt. The narrative suggests that they’re the ones who need corrected. They can act better, but they can not be treated better themselves as a result. The male characters are allowed to express themselves, but they are not allowed to ask for anything back from the situation.

Which is why you can have a fight with your assistant coach, but when he comes back to apologize you don’t articulate how it made you feel. You don’t tell your friend how he hurt your feelings. You just accept it and move on.

The Diamond Dogs give advice on how to handle external problems with emotional roots. They never discuss how they feel internally on its own merit.

The closest we got to a male character just having a bad one and expressing it without a clear source of external conflict? Jamie in the boot room. And that was played for laughs.

Which is why you could be in a deep depression over losing your career of twenty years and part of your mobility, I guess. But also maybe that’s a problem of you not being able to let go, and maybe you should apologize for not moving on sooner? We should pity Roy for getting so stuck in his own shit all the time. Not because the man has lived an incredibly stressful and emotionally isolated life in a high pressure environment for so long he doesn’t have the tools to deal with it, but because the narrative would like us to know if he just stopped getting in his own way all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem.

Is your ex-wife seeing someone else, who happens to also be the person who was your marriage counselor? I don’t know man, relationships are hard. Don’t worry about how hard that must have shaken your trust in a profession that already made you feel skittish. Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and move on.

Your girlfriend can tell all your friends and coworkers how you’re too smothering. Yes, this is the ‘learn how to communicate better’ show, but that was on you, really. Good on you for apologizing for smothering her.

The women may have worrying relationships with people who love bomb them or turn out to be controlling, but Jane and Beard are just a bit weird. Don’t worry about it, Higgins.

You can take accountability for your actions, but if it was your email who was hacked - who cares? You apologized, and everyone is very proud of you. We won’t ever bring up how incredibly mortifying that must have been for you to realize, because something more mortifying happened to someone else.

You can show your emotions, but not the angry ones, not the bad ones - those you should get a hold on, no matter how warranted they are. The stronger you are, the more divorced from toxic masculinity you are, the less those things should matter.

Struggling with your abusive dad and how his relationship with you has literally scared you so badly that you keep looking over your shoulder, afraid he’ll be there? That is clearly the anger talking. This is definitely not a situation that calls for your pseudo-father figure to put his hand on your shoulder, look you in the eye, and say, “i’m really sorry to hear that, son, but you know we got your back. Ain’t nothing bad gonna happen to you while we’re here.”

No no, this is a you problem and you can correct it by forgiving that man who hurt you. In fact, you thank him for motivating you. It was the anger that got you this far. It wasn’t getting up at 4am every morning for extra training. It wasn’t your mentor, the one invested all his time in helping you. It wasn’t the coach who gave you a second chance when you blew your whole life up to get away from that man. It wasn’t your own drive and passion and love for the sport that pushed you towards succeeding in a career you only had a one-in-a-million chance of ever getting. No, it was the anger that carried you. You should let that go. And hey - what if hypothetically speaking, he might try to be better too one day? You can’t hold it against him. You should let that go too.

Breakdowns and displays of crying are fine, but expecting people to care or show concern afterwards? The narrative doesn’t know her. The narrative will not validate that. We don’t see what happened after Wembley. We don’t see what happened when Isaac came back to the locker room after blowing up. What the show will validate, however, is moving on. Just be a goldfish, or forgive and forget.

And finally-

Embrace your feelings, but not too hard - you can’t be trusted with them, actually.

Can you imagine that we actually got a scene of Roy telling Jamie that he was worried if either of them pursued Keeley it might ruin their friendship? Can you imagine? From the beginning they have butted heads. From the beginning, Roy has struggled to actually articulate his feelings, especially to the people they involve. And here is Roy doing exactly what the narrative has been teaching him to do - he voiced a feeling that was bothering him to the person who was involved in the problem. Unprompted. He did that on his own. After three seasons of being told that is what he should do when he has a problem, that should have been the moment of narrative reward. That would have been the audience’s release of tension: they’re still at odds, they’re still the same bull-headed people they’ve always been, but they’ve learned to talk about it. No matter what happens next, at least, they’ve gotten this far.

Instead the narrative rewarded him, and us, by having them fight it out in a back alley. Because they’re idiots, and they can’t be trusted to handle their feelings without someone else in the narrative (Keeley) setting them straight.

Yes, people backslide in real life all the time. But when the narrative backslides at the very end of the story - that’s just nihilism. That’s what this felt like - all that progress and promise that you can be better, and two of the people who struggled the most tripped at the finish line. The audience don’t even get to see them pick back up. I mean they’re fine now, I guess. They went for kebabs. I have to assume it worked out. I guess after that they found a way to be happy, but I would have preferred to see them find a way to be happy by way of their own actions. Not in a fanfic. Not by way of imagining how it went afterwards. Not by what’s implied in a montage. By the story actually showing me they could get there on their own.

And the worst part about all of this is that when the show gets it right? It fucking sings. The team coming together to repair Ola’s? That sings. Ted’s ‘ain’t nobody in this room alone’ speech? Wonderful. Trent telling Colin that ‘some people need time to adjust; it’s not fair, but they do’? So delicately wielded, so painful. Beard’s speech to Nate about stealing a loaf of meth? Chef’s kiss. Ted forgiving Rebecca when he learns why she brought him to coach Richmond? The tears in his eyes when he tells her ‘divorce is hard’?

The hug at Wembley.

That’s what I wanted, from start to finale. When the show knew how to wield its empathy, it wielded it like a knife, cutting into the deepest parts of your heart.

Which is why when it does mess up, it hurts so much worse. Because by season three, the show has sunk so far into the deconstruction of things that it’s forgotten that what it fixed were not the only problems those characters ever faced. The show zoomed in too close on the themes. It forgot that at its roots, the its biggest strength has been its empathy. And that to me is where the show failed.

#i am upsetti spaghetti #and this has been rolling around in my noggin since the finale so- here #ted lasso meta #people don't care when bad shows mess up #they care because the show was good #oh and because i can't say this enough #fuck jamie's dad #i'm all for forgiveness and fuck jamie's dad are two sentiments that can should and do coexist

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incorrectuksies · 11 months

Conversation

katherine: jack! what are you doing?

jack: i can explain everything!

jack:

katherine:

jack: actually, no, i can’t.

#katherine plumber #jack kelly #newsies #incorrect quotes #source: father ted

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adrastea-moon · 1 year

Text

I hope nate seeing ted at the game, openly supporting him even after everything, makes nate realize that what he said to ted at the end of s2 about ted ignoring him and not caring about him was more of a projection of his own insecurities than ted’s actual feelings towards him. once he realizes that, he can finally confront the real source of his problems, his relationship with his father

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #nate shelley

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 months

Text

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 7

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

Summary: Lord Roy Kent still has yet to marry. He hates the notion that marriage is a way to ensure your status in society. You have delayed your debut to society for years because of the same idea. So what happens when two people who hate the idea of marriage are constantly drawn to each other?

Series Masterlist

It had been a week since Roy had seen you with Goodman and he couldn't stop thinking about you; how you smiled at him, laughed with him...it caused a deep pain in Roy. One that didn't seem to ease.

The following week, Roy, Clara, and Phoebe were having breakfast. Clara's ladies maid brought in the letters as well as a new paper that's been circling around the city, specifically among many women's circles. The latest gossip about Richmond's own people was being publicized, causing a stir among the city's residents.

Clara, usually not into gossip, suddenly found it to be her guilty pleasure every morning. Setting the letters for Roy aside, she immediately opens up The Richmond Rag. Her eyes skim the page and she immediately gasps, tossing the paper at Roy, "Read this."

"Fucking hell," he mumbles, wiping his mouth and picking up the paper, "I don't care about gossip."

"You'll care about it today. Read it," Clara presses her brother, pointing at the paper.

Roy sighs and he reads the paper. Clara watches her brother in anticipation.

Dear Readers,

It seems we may be hearing wedding bells by the end of the season. My sources tell me that our recently arrived Mister Jeffrey Goodman is looking to court newly debuted Miss Y/N L/N. However, other sources have told me that another is interested in our young debutant. Who, you may ask? None other than Lord Roy Kent. Now, in my honest opinion, I am not sure how much of a match Lord Kent and Miss L/N is compared to herself and Mister Goodman, but we shall sit in anticipation if Miss L/N will accept Mister Goodman's courtship.

Roy's jaw clenches and he sets the paper aside. Phoebe asks, "What does it say, Uncle Roy?"

"Shut up and eat your food," Roy grumbles.

Clara rolls her eyes, "Roy."

"I don't want to talk about it," he murmurs, going back to his food.

"Maybe you should talk to Y/N and see-"

Roy abruptly stands from his seat, "Fuck this," he says before walking out of the dining room.

_____________________

Your mother was squealing in delight to see that you and Jeffrey were mentioned in The Richmond Rag, especially the fact that Jeffrey was thinking about officially courting you. You're not sure how you felt about it, honestly. Sure, he's funny and makes great company, but you don't know if you could see yourself falling in love with him, let alone if he'd be a good husband or not. But then again, you don't have many options. You're already much older than many debutants. Many men wanting a younger wife than yourself. You don't have much room to be picky now.

"Mama, isn't that just all gossip? I'm not even sure if Jeffrey is still interested in me. I saw him dancing with other women at the ball last night. He seemed to enjoy their company."

She waves off your skepticism, "It's best to be hopeful. Anyway, we need to pick up your new dress for the next ball." She stands with a sense of urgency, gesturing you to quickly follow her. She then calls for your father who emerges from the kitchen with Cece in tow.

"Yes, my love?"

"Y/N and I will be picking up her dress," your mother answers then she looks at Cece, "Would you like to come along darling?"

"Can I go to Phoebe's?"

"I'm not sure if they're busy today, but we can see," your mother replies and Cece excuses herself to grab one of her dolls.

You smile at your excited cousin, "She acts like she didn't see her two days ago."

"You know how hard it's been since your aunt and uncle's passing," your mother whispers and you nod.

"I'm ready!" Cece rushes back the stairs to you and your mother. Your father escorts the three of you out and to the carriage.

When you arrive to Lord Kent's estate you take a deep breath. You follow your mother and cousin to the door. One of the servants bows to you three and goes to announce your arrival.

A moment later, you hear squealing and Phoebe is rushing towards Cece. She takes Cece's hand and they're immediately off somewhere else in the house.

Clara emerges with a chuckle, "Mrs. L/N, Y/N, wonderful to see you again."

You curtsey, "Good afternoon, Clara. I hope we weren't disturbing any plans you had for the day. We're off to town and Cece asked to pass by."

"Nonsense, Cece is welcome here whenever. You should know that by now." Clara then asks your mother about the plans for the day and as they talk, you feel eyes on you. You look up to see Lord Kent staring down at you. There doesn't seem to be any emotion behind his eyes.

You give a small curtsey and he replies with a curt nod. You two continue to stare at each other until he turns and walks away. You let out deep breath.

"Well, we best be off. We will be back in two hours to pick up Cece."

"Would you like to have lunch with us when you do?"

"That would be delightful. Thank you so much, Clara." your mother says with a beaming smile.

Once back into the carriage you groan, "Why did you accept lunch with them?!"

Your mother scoffs, "Just because you have some animosity towards Lord Kent, doesn't mean we still can't socialize with them. Besides, you'll have to accept that Lord Kent will be in your life seeing how Cece and Phoebe may be attached to the hip forever."

"Lovely," you grumble, slumping against the bench in the carriage.

____________________

At the modiste, you're trying on your dress one last time to make sure it's to your liking. You give a little spin on the raised platform then look at yourself in the mirror, "I think this is my new favorite dress, Charlotte!"

The older woman clapped her hands together, "Thank you, miss! I'm honored that you love it as much as I do!"

Your mother nods, "Yes, I think this color suits-"

The bell above the door rings and you all turn to see Lord Kent standing there with a surprised expression on his face.

He cleared his throat and gives a nod, "Ladies, pardon me. I didn't mean to intrude."

Charlotte moves to stand before him, "Hello, Lord Kent! How may I help you?"

He doesn't answer because his eyes are on you. You know this, you can feel him looking at you, but you try not to give him any mind. Rather, you look at yourself in the mirror making sure the dress is flattering in all angles.

Your mother smirks and speaks up, "Lord Kent! Wonderful, I think a man's perspective would be helpful," she loops her arm around his and tugs him closer to you, "Tell me, do you think this dress is flattering for my daughter? I've heard that it's Mister Goodman's favorite color."

You're mentally cursing your mother at this moment.

"Yes, it suits her well, but not as well as pink, ma'am."

"Pink, my Lord?"

"It brings out the color of her eyes," he says this and it causes you to look at him through the reflection of the mirror. He's doing it again, staring at you, but this time, emotion in his eyes. Unlike before. There's something there you can't quite read.

"Hmm...I suppose that will be the color of the next dress we'll request. Anyway, dear, did you need Charlotte's help?"

He breaks his gaze away from you and turns to the dressmaker, "Yes, sorry. My sister would like the same style dress as she previously ordered, but in navy blue."

Charlotte is writing down Clara's request, "Yes, I have a few fabrics of that color. If you could please tell your sister to come by to pick out which fabric she prefers, that would be most helpful, my Lord."

"Of course," he nods to you three, "Enjoy the rest of your day, ladies."

With that, he exits the shop and you frown at your mother, "Stop it."

"I didn't do anything."

"You and I both know that's a lie. If he was interested, he would've done something by now. He hasn't. There's no chance of us being together, so, please, mother, let it go." you step down from the platform and move to the back of the room to change out of your dress.

_____________________

Two days later, you're at a ball hosted by the Bartletts. Their own daughter, Eliza, had debuted as well and she's gotten many men interested for her hand already.

So far, you have two names on your dance card, Jamie and Jeffrey. Jamie's name once, and Jeffrey's twice. You're not too bothered by it. All of the attention is and should be on Eliza tonight.

"Jeff and I could always fill up your dance card," Jamie says as he sees you glance at your dance card.

You shake your head with a snort, "No, it's okay. It's best I stay in the shadows. If the author of The Richmond Rag sees me dancing with you two too much, I'm sure I'll end up being mentioned in their next publication."

Jeffrey smirks, "So you've read what they've said about us?"

"Not necessarily. I don't care for the gossip too much, but my mother does. She tells me about it."

"So what are your thoughts on our potential co-"

"Miss Y/N," Jeffrey is interrupted by Lord Kent.

"Lord Kent, good evening," you curtsey and Keeley follows. Jamie just nods, but Jeffrey bows.

"May I add my name to your card?" he gestures to the slip of paper on your wrist.

"O-Oh, um, if you'd like," you hand him the card and pencil. He scribbles his name and hands it back to you. He walks away without another word.

Before you can even look at the card, Keeley snatches it from your hand.

"Keeley!" you try to grab it from her but Jamie stands between you and her, "What is it, love?" Jamie asks.

Keeley smirks and hands him the card, "Lord Kent wrote his name down on the rest of the spots."

"What?!" you push Jamie to the side and grab the card, looking down at it, "Oh that bas-"

"So much for staying in the shadows. That'll guarantee your name in the Rag for sure," Jamie says with a snicker.

Jeffrey looks displeased and annoyed, "Are you really going to dance with him the entire time?"

"I-wouldn't it be rude if I didn't?"

Jeffrey frowns, "I thought you didn't like him."

"We're not very...amicable, but I'd say I...tolerate him?"

"Hm," Jeffrey doesn't seem to like your answer and excuses himself for a drink.

Jamie whistles, "He don't look too happy, darling."

For the first dance, Jeffrey doesn't appear to dance with you, so you just don't dance. The next dance, Jamie does his best to keep you cheerful. The next dance, Jeffrey still doesn't make his presence known to you. When it's time for the waltz, Lord Kent appears, his palm stretched out to you.

You take it as he leads you to the middle of the room. In your peripherals, you see Jeffrey bringing another woman to the floor. Your jaw clenches and you look away. Lord Kent, seeing this, scoffs and murmurs, "Prick."

You shake your head and look at Lord Kent, "It's your fault you know, putting yourself down on the remainder of my dance card."

"It didn't seem like anyone else was going to put their name down."

You scoff, "So what, you did it out of pity? I don't need your pity or sympathy from you, my Lord." You don't care that you were in the middle of a dance, you promptly turn your back and walk straight out of that ballroom, cursing Lord Kent's name.

#roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #regency era #regency au #ted lasso au

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