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quizzicalwriter · 3 months

Note

i really love ur writing especially with any matt dillon character <3 i feel like u improved sm with ur recent fics too (or maybe i just like the angst HAHA) but uve always been a great writer, i love how u also include canon details and like realistic details (if that makes sense) but u just r really good with expressing ur words!! id love if u wrote smut like dally bothering fem!reader working a shift at the diner or something idk nonetheless ur writing is sosososgood

Cherry

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas makes everything better after a shitty day at work, most of which had been his fault in the first place.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Pain in the ass Dallas. Make-up sex, fingering, oral, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words! And thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.5k

Working at a local diner wasn't necessarily the high point of your life, working the closing shift even less so. Dealing with inebriated patrons, groups of teenagers, and the occasional male who stayed well past the hours of operation was your usual.

It was a cute thing, the diner, owned by a man who'd inherited the land from his grandfather. His wife had based the menu on her recipes, along with a few from her mother, grandmother, and so on. You'd worked there long enough to gain their trust, and if you were honest, you saw them more as your grandparents than you did your employers.

Dallas accompanied you on the busier nights, whenever he passed by and caught sight of the unruly nighttime crowd, he'd duck into the diner and give you a crooked grin before making his way over to the counter. You fed him, or gave him drinks, just as you did the remainder of the guys whenever you could get away with doing so. It was calming, and made you feel safe having your guard-dog of a boyfriend waiting by the front counter until you flipped the sign that hung on the front door.

While his presence was welcome, the attention it drew was not. Possessive streaks weren't something you prided yourself on. You trusted Dallas as anyone would their boyfriend, but you weren't blind to him either. Dallas was a man, a cocky man at that, his cockiness flared whenever a woman looked his way for longer than a second. Had he ever truly pursued someone other than yourself? No, but, you couldn't help your jealousy whenever a woman approached him with glossed lips and bright eyes.

Internally you thrived on him turning down each woman that came his way, although, much to your dismay, some women took longer to disperse than others had. Whether it was due to Dallas's charm, or their persistence, you weren't sure, nor did you have the ability to check during busy shifts, especially when a man who looked as though he'd seen conflict in the Civil War whistled from the other end of the diner.

"Miss!" He called, waving his hand higher than he had seconds ago. Truthfully, you weren't ignoring him, you'd had to run two other checks to nearby booths and had simply forgotten about him. "Miss!"

With a feigned smile, you peeled your attention from the woman all but draping herself over Dallas, her thin fingers splayed over his forearm. He smiled back at her, the sight made your stomach sour enough for you to partially crumble the bill you'd written up moments prior for the increasingly impatient man.

"Here's your bill, sir. I'm sorry for the wait, busy as all get out tonight."

Your apology was met with a gruff laugh, but he seemed to understand your plight as he followed your line of sight back toward the front counter. While he signed the bottom of the receipt, he cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to him.

"Ain't no sense in apologizin'." He responded with a lift of his hips as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. "I get why your attention's elsewhere."

You opened your mouth to apologize, only to be met with the raise of his hand as he placed a few dollars down on the table, enough to cover the tab and your tip. It was generous and kind enough to leave you mentally berating yourself for not having given him better service. But, you ventured by the kind, almost apologetic smile upon his face that he had been in a similar situation in his youth.

Incessant laughter bubbled from the opposing side of the diner, the noise boisterous enough to pick away at your fading patience. You pocketed the cash, inwardly begging whatever deity listening for the grace to clean up shop and kick the girl out without causing a scene.

Their conversation continued, words muffled by distance and the clatter of putting away cutlery, although you tried your damndest to overhear it all. You began your routine of cleaning up house, a wet rag over your shoulder with a bottle of cleaning solution in your left hand. As you spritzed a nearby table, her laughter kicked up a notch, yet again.

"We're closing!" You called, giving her a feigned smile as she turned her head to face you. She returned your smile, just as you had given it to her, coarse and fake. You bit at your inner cheek as she turned back to Dallas, her hand lifting to rest against his shoulder.

"Hey, we're closed!" You shouted, tone louder than before. Dallas peered at you from behind her shoulder, face a mixture of shock and amusement. You were having none of it, not her bold and brazen behavior, his cockiness - none of it. You tossed your rag toward the counter, slinging the bottle alongside it as you moved toward them.

The woman, for what it was worth, met your eyes as you approached. The sudden eye contact left you stumbling over your thoughts, but as you caught sight of her hand still lingering upon his shoulder, all sense of humility left you.

"He's taken, did you know that?" You asked as you grabbed her wrist, quickly shoving it back toward her. Her smile faltered then, her eyes flickering between you and Dallas as she backed away. "No, I suppose you didn't."

All anger you had directed toward her vanished with each step she took toward the door, instead raising and flaring at the man sitting beside you. You turned, meeting his gaze with a scowl and a shake of your head.

"Seriously, Dallas?" You asked, although you knew no response he could provide at that moment would abate the growing ache in your chest. "You're an asshole. A real - fuckin' - asshole."

Each pause was accentuated with a shove of his shoulder, jealousy seething in your mind, burning your eyes with tears you refused to let him see. You could tell from the sudden switch of emotion on his face, albeit blurred from your tears, that he hadn't meant to hurt you. His hands grabbed your forearms, holding you steady whilst simultaneously shielding himself from your jealousy-fueled tirade. You were in no mood for his touch, so you pulled away from it with a grunt.

The sooner you finished closing up shop, the sooner you'd be away from him. Those words rang in your mind as you walked away from him, repeating with each step as though it were a mantra.

It was shitty; your jealousy, his cockiness, it was a toxic mix that neither of you relished in. You had known going into your relationship with Dallas how he handled interactions with women, you knew where his loyalties were, yet some part of you continued to twist and sour with each look his way.

Maybe it was the extra shifts you'd taken at the diner, the fewer hours you were able to spend by his side, being reassured by his touch and his words. Whatever it was, you hadn't the patience to linger on it, all you wanted to do was wallow in your anger - so, you did.

"Doll!" He called, although he was met with no answer as you tossed unclean plastic menus onto the countertop. You could hear him walking toward you, swearing under his breath, yet you continued to ignore him as you snagged your house keys from underneath the counter.

"Christ's sake, I didn't say a damn thing to the broad!"

"That's not the point." You sighed, shaking your head as you spoke, fingers blindly fumbling with your keyring as you neared the front entrance. "Not the point at all, and you know it."

Once your fingers had found the key to the front door, you hastened your pace, not necessarily wishing to have an argument with Dallas in the middle of the night. Dallas, however, absolutely seemed up to the challenge. He stood behind you, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket, a heavy scowl on his face as he watched you lock the place up.

"Explain it to me then." He whispered, and for a second you believed him to be apologetic. "'Cause this attitude, it ain't helpin' your cause."

And then he ruined it.

You swirled on your heel, months of pushed-aside irritation bubbling to the surface. You weren't one for confrontation, never had been, it was a sore point for you. You quickly pocketed your keys, hands gripping the middle of your jacket, tugging it snug around your middle.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" You asked. "You could've shooed her away, told her you were with someone. And yet, you- you entertain it."

The words would've rung home for anyone willing to listen, but Dallas, with his stubborn ways, only cocked his head to the side and gave you a lopsided grin.

"I'm not interested in other women." He responded, taking a step closer to you. "I can't help who talks to me, doll. I ain't entertaining anything, you know that."

Did you? Maybe, but in your jealousy-fueled haze, you refused to admit your part in the misunderstanding. He lifted his right hand from his pocket, placing it against your upper arm, thumb gently rubbing along the fabric of your jacket.

"Do you worry about me?" He asked with a duck of his head, trying to center your attention back on him. "Worry about me talkin' to other girls?"

You nodded, and instead of snickering, he pulled you forward. You thudded against his chest, the sudden move knocking a bit of wind from your lungs. His arms wrapped around you as he laughed out an apology, the sound soft, the words genuine.

"Still an asshole." You murmured, resting your cheek on his chest as your hands grasped onto the back of his jacket. You felt him nod, chin atop your head, his hands smoothing up your back.

"I know." He replied. "At least let me drive you home, alright? Even if you're pissed."

"Not pissed." You assured, leaning back from the embrace to meet his gaze. "Might have overreacted."

Dallas clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyebrows screwing together as he nodded his head back. "No," he chuckled. "I would've done the same if some guy talked to you."

The thought made you smile, not that you hadn't seen Dallas's protective side flair. You were both territorial over each other, and there was nothing necessarily wrong with that as long as the feelings were reciprocated - which they were in their entirety.

"Ever notice how empty this lot is at night?" He commented, snapping you from your mind with a gentle squeeze of your hip. "Hardly any cars pass by, somethin' I noticed after a few nights sittin' by the counter."

Dallas hadn't been wrong, not in the slightest. In truth, you would've been surprised if you'd caught anyone lingering in the parking lot after closing. Your town wasn't quiet by any means, but the diner had been built around, years of infrastructure hiding it amidst a cluster of run-down businesses.

With a hum, you leaned into his side. "Guess you're right." You replied, tilting your head back to give him a squinty-eyed smile, on account of the nearby flickering lot light.

"Could make you feel better." He whispered. "On account of earlier, or whatever."

You snickered, rolling your eyes at his blatant suggestion, yet for all its crudeness, you couldn't deny the stir you felt in your lower stomach.

"You're filthy." You chided, nudging his side with your elbow.

Dallas huffed out a laugh, his arm looping around your back. "C'mon," he urged as he began walking, leading you toward his car. "Ain't wasting the opportunity to make you feel better."

Mere moments had passed before you were both clamoring into the back of the Thunderbird, limbs bumping into limbs, soft laughter echoing inside the vehicle as Dallas reached over your middle to pull the door shut. As soon as the door had shut, your lips were on his, your hands blindly fumbling with the front of his jeans.

You'd just gotten the button undone when his hands wrapped around your wrists, pulling them back as he pulled away from your kiss. You were left pouting, the sight adorable and pitiful enough to pull a laugh from Dallas as he set your hands down in your lap.

"This is for you, not me. Let me make you feel good."

Dallas focusing his sole attention on you? On pleasing you, no less? How could you refuse? Elated laughter bubbled in your chest as his hands slid up and underneath your skirt, the fabric bunching up around your hips. You helped him with a gentle lift of your hips, allowing him to hook his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, before slinking the fabric down your legs.

"You're going to cum on my tongue." He stated, tone full of nonchalance as he tossed your underwear toward the front of the car. "And, I want you over me when you do."

"You want me to sit on your face?" You asked, lips quirking up into a smile as you bit back laughter, truly believing he was joking. "Is that what you're asking me?"

Dallas only nodded, and only then did the realization of his request register in your mind. Heat prickled at the nape of your neck, spreading forward until it encompassed your chest in a deep blush. Sensing your nerves, Dallas's thumbs rubbed gentle circles above your hip bones, his head ducking down to meet your avoidant gaze.

"Hey," he whispered. "Ain't nothin' I haven't seen before. It'll feel good, doll, promise."

So, you allowed him to help you into a position that didn't have both of you groaning in discomfort. Maneuvering into a position where you straddled his shoulders, in the back of an already narrow car, wasn't exactly the easiest to accomplish. Somehow, you both managed, mostly thanks to Dallas's hands keeping you steady as you moved over him.

The chill of his silver rings bit into your thighs, keeping you sunk in the present, hovered over him as he looked up at you from below. There was nothing other than pure, unadulterated lust pouring from his eyes, pupils blown so heavily there was only a crescent of color visible. His fingers tapped, once and then again, a nonverbal request for you to lower yourself.

So you did.

He met you halfway, tongue licking a fat stripe up your cunt, delving between your folds to collect your essence against his tastebuds. He wanted to savor you, that much was readily apparent by his hardened grasp on your thighs, all but cementing you atop his face. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as a plethora of broken-off moans tumbled past your lips.

You begged for him, murmuring his name between praises lost on your ears, but not his. Each word, no matter how garbled by pleasure, left his hips rutting up into the air as he circled his tongue around your clit. Your hips moved in synchrony with his tongue, adjacent swirls, and he let you. He had always favored dominance, being in control of the situation, but having you atop him had him praising every divine figure he could conjure in his lust-riddled mind.

“Dallas-“ You crooned, the noise so sweet it pulled a moan from his chest, the vibration left directly against your aching cunt. You smiled, a mixture of a laugh and moan leaving you as your hands raked through his hair, tugging at the short strands. “So good, Dal.”

With an open-mouthed kiss to your clit, he pulled away. It was for a fraction of a second, needed to slip his right hand between your thighs, but you were left whining and pouting. He tutted from between your thighs, lips, and chin glistening with your cum.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered as his middle and ring fingers pushed inside of you, delicately curling to brush against a spot that had your thighs clamping down around him. “It'll feel good, I promise.”

His left hand squeezed your hip, guiding you just as he would if you were riding him. You unconsciously followed his guidance, sliding down onto his fingers, before raising yourself, only to repeat the motion over, and over. Lewd squelches sounded from between your thighs, your cunt dripping a mixture of cum and saliva down onto his palm.

“See?” He asked through a breathy laugh, quickly resuming his position between your thighs. “Told ‘ya I’d make you feel better.”

You wanted to berate him for his cockiness, you truly did, but the feeling of his lips encircling your clit left you breathless. If anything, any ridicule would’ve turned into a garbled mess of his name.

A groan of a laugh reverberated in Dallas’s chest, yet he never pulled away. His tongue lapped at your clit, intervals of swirls and sucks following each grunt he managed to sound out. The sounds were carnal, stoking the steadily building flame in your lower stomach. Your fingers tightened their hold on his hair, pulling him closer, yourself closer. In truth, you weren’t sure if he could breathe, but neither of you moved from where you were.

“That’s it, doll.” He rasped, words hardly audible, muffled from your cunt. You managed a sighed moan in response, your hips rolling, sliding your cunt against his tongue. His fingers thrusted into you, mimicking the tempo of his eager tongue, each lap and circle of the muscle pushing you closer to the edge.

The uptake of an octave, your head rolling back as your eyes squeezed shut; Dallas knew each instinctual move of your body by heart. His eyes stayed locked on you, memorizing the sight of you coming undone above him, riding his face like a woman starved. His free hand lifted from your hip, curving around the plush of your ass, knowing he needed a tight hold on you to keep you steady.

“Dal-“

There it was, the familiar beckon of his name. His cock strained against the confines of his boxers, tip leaking precum, smearing against the now dampened fabric. His thighs tensed as his hips rolled, desperately seeking some form of reprieve as your cunt twitched around his fingers. Instead of verbalizing his reply, he squeezed the swell of your ass, wordlessly urging you to cum.

White-hot pleasure seared your veins, unconsciously twitching your limbs, tightening your hold on his hair. Your cunt spasmed, clit throbbing against his circling tongue. You cursed under your breath, eyes squeezed shut, mind solely focused on the ecstasy overtaking your body. Dallas grounded you with slow brushes of his hand along your thigh, fingers still inside of you, lips placing gentle kisses on your oversensitive clit.

“Alright?” He asked, tone rough enough to pull a surprised laugh from you. You nodded, threading your fingers through his hair.

“More than alright.” You replied. “Way more.”

Instead of hovering over his face for another second with wobbly legs, you moved yourself back, giving Dallas enough time to situate himself upright. His hands found your hips quickly after, gently guiding you back to his lap.

In an almost instinctive move, you lowered yourself to place your lips on his. His hands slid around your back, fingers absentmindedly grabbing at the fabric of your uniform as his lips moved with yours.

You braced yourself against the rear windshield, the slick condensation gathering in the palm of your hands, smearing your fingerprints down the pane as your lips moved against his. If anyone had passed by, anyone at all, they would've gathered what you both had gotten up to.

Neither of you could bring yourself to care, not when Dallas slipped his hands underneath the back of your shirt, his fingernails scraping along the curve of your back to have you closer as he sucked your tongue.

Your lips curved into a smile at the move, the lucrative, nearly addictive slide of his tongue against your own. He knew you, knew your body and how to make it tick. Your hips rocked against his lap, causing his already hard cock to twitch and pulse against the confines of his jeans.

"You're still hard," you rasped into the kiss, "I can make you feel good, too."

He groaned, his eyebrows knitting together as his hips bucked up into you. You bit at your bottom lip as you moved your hands from the rear windshield, letting your now cool skin slide down his front, keeping your eyes locked with his as you unzipped his jeans.

His lips parted in a silent moan as your hand slipped underneath the hem of his boxers, your fingers curling around the thick base of his cock. You could feel each twitch of his cock beneath your palm, the skin slick and warm, coated in his precum. You slid your hand up, leisurely pumping him, the act enough to have him grunting out your name.

You savored each lecherous moan that fell from his lips. With a shift of your hips, you centered yourself over his thigh, rolling your hips down in tandem with each stroke of his cock. You knew you were dampening the denim, soiling it, yet all you saw reflected in Dallas's eyes was the same debauchery you held heavy in your mind.

“Fuck me.” You begged, tired of the hassle, of denying yourself the most innate of pleasures. He relented with a lift of your body, allowing his hard cock to slide along your folds, catching against you. You watched as he lowered you onto him, his cock sliding into you deliciously slow.

Thin, red lines followed his nails as they dragged up the skin of your thighs, coming to a halt at your hips where he steadied you. You could feel his cock pulse inside of you, twitching just before your cervix. You watched him with bated breath, allowing him to guide each movement of your hips, and he did so with precision.

"So tight," he murmured, eyebrows knitted together in a mixture of pure lust and concentration, as though the mere sight of you atop him would undo him if he gave into it. "So fuckin' good."

All you could muster was a moan in response, your hips rolling forward, each forward motion brushing your clit against his lower stomach. Your thighs strained, muscles burning, yet you paid them no mind in favor of the persistent push of Dallas's cock, the way his tip brushed against your g-spot with each shift of his hips.

His eyes flitted, sight torn between your breasts and the needy, desperate look in your eyes. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet against the floorboard, giving himself enough stability to thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before.

The shift in position forced the air from your lungs, a pitiful, broken-off mess of a moan passing your parted lips as you grasped his shoulders. He whispered something to you, but whatever it was had been lost on your muddled mind in favor of the budding feeling of ecstasy coiling in your lower stomach.

"Dallas-" You whined, the urgency in your call not lost on him. He nodded, wetting his lips as he rolled his hips upward. You could feel your arousal dripping between your thighs, smearing along your skin as well as his, coating his lower stomach in your cum.

"That's it, doll." He whispered, his left hand moving between your thighs to circle his thumb around your clit, rhythm syncing with each pump of his hips. "C'mon, cum for me."

Ecstasy coiled tight in your stomach, and with each swirl of his thumb and pump of his cock, you felt it twist tighter and tighter. Your hands moved from his shoulders, fingers threading through the back of his hair where you pulled. His mouth fell open, eyebrows lifting as an expression of shock-induced euphoria crossed his face.

So, you pulled harder, the harshness of your hold mirrored in the desperate way you fucked yourself on his cock, movements so frenzied you felt your muscles burning beneath your skin.

A deep, almost sinful moan rumbled in his chest. You swallowed it with a kiss to his lips, hands moving to his jaw as your tongue moved with his. His thumb was slick against your clit, and with a gasp of his name, your cunt spasmed around his cock.

"Fuck, that's it." He groaned, words strained as he teetered on the edge of his orgasm. "Let it out, doll."

Your lips moved from his, kisses trailing down his cheek, onto his jaw, before you settled your cheek to his shoulder, simply choosing to give yourself over to the onslaught of pleasure Dallas had you wrapped up in. Dallas's hold on your hip tightened as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut, jaw clenched as his cock twitched inside of you, each pulse filling you with his cum.

You both shared the blissful silence that came afterward, the only noises being the occasional breath and whispered praise, the brush of his hands against your skin.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, words muffled by the press of his lips against your throat. "I'm sorry."

Apologies weren't common with Dallas. To his benefit, he hadn't done much to call for one, but this - this you appreciated. You nodded, leaning into his touch, his lips, with a thread of your fingers through his hair. He continued murmuring into your skin, you drank in each word, heart slowing in your chest, calming with the promises he spoke only to you.

His hand moved from your hip, thumb, and forefinger resting against your chin, tipping your head up to meet his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed together, skin coated in a thin veneer of sweat. His thumb brushed across your bottom lip, yet his eyes never left yours.

"You're my girl." He whispered, and you nodded. "I'd never do anything to hurt you."

You placed a kiss on the pad of his thumb, the sincerity in his words causing you to smile. He smiled in return, fingers splaying against your cheek where he held you gently.

"It won't happen again, alright?"

His words were soft, the sentiment mirrored in his eyes. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck. He met your embrace with one of his own, wrapping his arms around the small of your back, hands gently caressing between your shoulder blades.

"Good apology, been workin' on it for a while?" You joked, placing a kiss on his jaw with a soft bout of laughter. You felt him laugh, the vibration of his chest against yours.

"Nope." He admitted, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple. "You're worth a genuine apology."

"Sap." You teased, but your tone gave way to your true feelings, how much you appreciated his honesty, his words. He caught on, but never made it known, instead choosing to reply with another kiss to your skin.

"Yeah, guess I am."

A/N: Siri, play "Lover, You Should've Come Over" by Jeff Buckley, please! No, but seriously, I finished this piece with that song on repeat. Alas, I am not dead! I won't lie, I've suffered with pretty damn bad writers block. Somehow, I finished this. I hope you all like it! Thank you for your continuous support of me and my work, I value you all more than I could ever put into words! I hope this piece makes up for my time gone, see it as an early Valentine's gift!

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yelena-bellova · 11 months

Text

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Five

Chapter Five: Golden Boy

Plot: Zava arrives at Richmond and some of the staff are more thrilled than others…specifically Y/n.

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: This chapter was quick to be cranked out, and Mr. Tartt finally enters the chat.

I’ve gotten a few requests for tags and as with most my fics, I’m only tagging 16+ with ages in bios. Looking out for younger eyes 👀

Hope you enjoy this one!

——————

The moment Zava had uttered the word ‘Richmond,’ Nelson Road was thrown into complete chaos.

Y/n, Keeley and Higgins had been working overtime overseeing plans for the official welcome event. Not only did Zava’s level of fame demand a big deal, but the whole city of Richmond was beside themselves with glee. They had to go all out.

“Okay,” Y/n said, typing out a quick text at Keeley’s desk, “Higgins says the red carpet was just delivered along with the banners.”

“Perfect,” Keeley replied, ticking off a box of the event’s long to-do list, “Did he say anything about ticket sales?”

Y/n and Keeley had been double-teaming the matter of Zava’s recruitment and had been meeting or speaking each morning since the Chelsea match. They were beginning to find their rhythm, passing tasks back and forth with a smooth stream of communication.

“Sold out,” Y/n answered, locking her phone and setting it down with a smile, “And have you been checking Twitter?”

“Oh, I know,” Keeley’s eyes widened, “Richmond’s been trending nearly every day. The power of celebrity!”

It was a PR blessing. Zava’s signing with the Greyhounds had completely blotted out the sewer meme, Nathan Shelley’s hateful comments, West Ham…the world’s eyes were on Richmond in the best possible way.

“Alright, so 10AM for the event’s start,” Y/n ran her pen down her task-list, “I doubt he’ll want to take pictures with fans, but there’s time to. But maybe a group one with the team would be a good idea?”

There was a light knock on Keeley’s door.

“Come in,” she called.

Opening and revealing Keeley’s latest hire, her friend Shandy, Y/n instinctively stiffened a little.

“I just thought of a great idea,” Shandy said with great enthusiasm, “What if we had…Zava dancers? Like they get for sports in the States,” Shandy gestured to Y/n, ”What do you think?”

Y/n and Keeley both wore the same over-exaggerated smile as they listened. Visions of Laker Girls and Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders danced through their minds.

“That’s…” Y/n slowly nodded, glancing over to Keeley, “An idea.”

“It certainly is,” Keeley nodded back before turning to Shandy, “But I don’t think we’ve got time to pull it together.”

Shandy’s shoulders fell in disappointment, “Oh, that’s true,” she pointed between Keeley and Y/n, “But still, save it for another time.”

“Definitely,” both women replied encouragingly, satisfying Shandy enough to head back to her desk.

Spending so much time at the KJPR office had presented Y/n the opportunity to help Keeley get Shandy adjusted to corporate life. It hadn’t taken more than two days for Y/n to realize it was a task that might kill her. She was carrying on as a favor to Keeley.

“Oh,” Keeley reached across and tapped the back of Y/n’s hand, “How’s it going, having Trent around?”

“Well, he’s catching us on a good week,” Y/n sighed as she began to gather her things. She had to get to Nelson Road and help oversee set-up with Higgins. “To be honest, I haven’t seen much of him, or anyone for that matter. It’s just been me and Higgins rushing in and out of each other’s offices. And Dani knocking on my door at least once a day asking if we should be doing more for Zava’s arrival.”

Keeley smiled as Y/n’s sentences ran on, “Oi, remember to breathe.”

Y/n chuckled, she’d been holding her breath since her first day at Richmond. There was no exhalation in sight.

“I’ll breathe,” she replied, opening the door and looking back to her boss, “Once this is over.”

—————————

The next day, Nelson Road Stadium was bustling as soon as there was light in the sky. Come 10AM, the stands were packed with fans, all awaiting the arrival of the newest Greyhound….

Who hadn’t bothered to show up.

“Where the hell is he?” Rebecca hissed as Keeley, Higgins and Y/n all did double time on their phones, “Leslie! We do have a signed contract, don’t we?”

“Of course,” Higgins replied, “We have an e-signature. That’s legally binding,” his confident smile began to waver, “I think. I’ll make a call.”

Higgins went off with his phone while Keeley nudged Rebecca, “His agent hasn’t heard from him, but she’s tracked his phone, which is currently in Mykonos.”

“If he’s changed his mind again,” Rebecca whispered, “I’m going to look like an absolute asshole.”

“Well, there’s been no sightings of him anywhere,” Y/n continued scouring Twitter, “Doesn’t mean he’s not here…” she paused, flipping perspectives, “But it also doesn’t mean he is.”

“Maybe we can try and cheer them up somehow?” Keeley suggested, scanning the pack of bored reporters surrounding them.

Seated in the row behind them, Shandy popped up, “Do you want me to take my shirt off and run across the pitch?”

As Y/n attempted a deep breath, Rebecca smiled knowingly, “You must be Shandy.”

“Shandy’s shadowing Y/n and I for the day,” Keeley answered excitedly, “To get the hang of things, you know?”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Shandy greeted Rebecca, “I’d love to go for a coffee and pick your brain sometime. Like, how tall are you?”

Y/n glanced up from her phone to catch Rebecca’s confused expression, meeting her boss’s eyes and giving a thin-lipped smile.

“Shandy,” Keeley turned to her employee, “Would you go to concessions and start selling merch at half price?”

“Great idea,” Shandy smiled before back tracking the step she’d taken.

“Keep your shirt on,” Keeley directed sweetly.

“Right, of course,” Shandy nodded, patting Rebecca and Y/n on the shoulders, “Bye, babes.”

“She’s a live one,” Rebecca chuckled before checking her watch.

If anything was said after that, Y/n’s ears didn’t register it. All she could hear were the mumbles and murmurs of the reporters surrounding them. Where’s Zava? Is he ever coming? Did he change his mind? Her mind was working overtime trying to figure out how to dig their way out of this, in case he really had ditched them. She couldn’t stand to have another failure heaped on her shoulders.

Ted’s midwestern accent broke through the noise of her head.

“Hey, guys,” he whispered, taking Higgins’ empty seat, “Are we sure that Zava has the right address? I hate to think he’s sittin’ in the middle of Virginia right now waiting for us, you know?”

Higgins came walking back with an answer, “So, I just talked to legal about Zava’s contract. An e-signature is 100% binding. Tiny wrinkle, instead of signing his name, he signed, ‘You’re Welcome.’”

Y/n pursed her lips, “Lovely.”

“Shit,” Rebecca cursed, her nerves growing by the second, “What are we going to do?”

“Hey, look, superstars play by their own rules,” Ted replied, “Back in ‘98, I waited over three hours for Public Enemy to take the stage of this joint called the Cubby Bear. When a man with a giant clock around his neck is that late, it ain’t about time. He’s makin’ a statement.”

As much as it pained Y/n to take anything real away from another one of Ted’s rambling tales, he had a point. How many asshole celebrities made a crowd wait just to get a little extra ego boost?

“Right,” Rebecca slashed her hands through the air, “I’m calling it. We’re going to go upstairs and figure out what we do next,” she looked to Higgins next, “Leslie, I want you to talk to the crowd and tell them…something.”

“Of course, Rebecca,” Higgins replied calmly, “I got this. Back in uni, my deejay name Damage Control.”

“I didn’t know you deejayed,” Keeley commented.

“I didn’t actually, but I had the name ready if I ever started.”

Y/n was beginning to feel as frantic as Rebecca. “This feels like a great story for a later time,” she said, failing to totally hide her annoyance.

“Shit, right,” Rebecca rose from her seat, “Come on, let’s go.”

As Higgins made for the stage, Ted, Rebecca, Y/n and Keeley hurried past the press, trying to give reassuring grins. Nothing was out of the ordinary. This was the plan.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Rebecca huffed once they were safe within the building, “Why does anyone put up with this lunatic?”

“Because as humans, we adapt to accommodate genius,” Keeley answered.

“Genius doesn’t outweigh flightiness,” Y/n replied, walking in step with Ted.

“Who is the greatest actor alive?” Keeley continued, “Or was, before he retired?”

In tandem, Rebecca and Y/n both answered, “Daniel Day-Lewis.”

Ted veered off path, “Tony Curtis. You said alive? Jackie Chan. Wait, you said retired? Daniel Day-Lewis.”

“Exactly,” Keeley led them up the stairwell, pausing outside Rebecca’s office door, “When he gets into character, he stays in character and everyone else adapts to him. Did you know, that when he made Lincoln, he actually texted Sally Field as Abraham Lincoln?”

“Well, that’s ridiculous,” Rebecca dismissed the trivia, “Abraham Lincoln couldn’t text.”

“Exactly,” Ted agreed, “Every time he looked down, his hat would fall off.”

“Hey, listen,” Y/n chuckled, wondering if ADD was somehow formulated, bottled and pumped into the air of Nelson Road Stadium, “The distant sound of booing.”

“Look, this Zava might be a genius,” Rebecca passed Keeley to reach for the doorknob, “But he’s definitely a self-absorbed prick.”

Rebecca threw the door open to reveal the prick himself, seated at her desk as if it were his own.

“Your desk is covered in biscuit crumbs,” Zava stated.

Ted, Keeley and Y/n stood behind their boss, sporting various faces of shock.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Rebecca asked, breathless with rage, “We’ve waited two hours for you.”

This did not bother Zava. “Time is a construct,” he shrugged, “Like gender and many of the alphabets.”

“Get out of my chair,” Rebecca demanded, graduating to indignant as she marched towards her desk. She exhaustedly gestured to Ted, “This is your manager.”

“Hey, how you doing?” Ted greeted with his usual cheeriness, “I’m Ted Lasso.”

Zava and his new coach shared a grin with hands extended as they crossed the room. When they met in the middle, Zava slapped his hand to his chest and became gravely serious. Ted awkwardly did the same.

“My leader,” Zava said, “I am an empty vessel filled with gold,” he took hold of Ted’s arm with his free hand, “I am your rock. Mold me.”

Y/n ran the analogy through her head, coming up empty on logic.

Ted gave a low whistle, “Well, hey, if you score goals like you talk, we gonna be just fine, buddy.”

“Right. And this is Keeley Jones and Y/n Y/l/n,” Rebecca said, gesturing to the two women, “They handle all our publicity.”

Keeley was more willing to greet Zava than Y/n, whose steps toward the legendary footballer were justifiably hesitant.

“My queens,” Zava took each of their hands, pressing gentle kisses to both.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled under her breath and fought the urge to pull away.

“My actions today have made your jobs much more difficult,” he said with, seemingly, genuine sorrow.

“No,” Keeley shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. No such thing as bad press, right?”

“My integrity disallows me to agree with that statement,” Zava replied with a warm smile.

“But there is such a thing as angry fans,” Y/n politely smiled, wondering how long she had to hold the man’s hand. She could hear Rebecca mumbling some curses under her breath as well.

From behind them, Higgins came through the door with Shandy in tow, going on about something related to Zava’s food allergies. They both froze as they registered the sight in front of them.

“You’re here,” Higgins gaped.

Zava nodded, “And you are there.”

“And this is Leslie Higgins,” Rebecca introduced, “Our director of football.”

“Ah,” Zava sighed, placing a hand on each side of Higgins’ face and pressing his forehead to his. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “You are the glue.”

The room stood in confused anticipation.

“Thank you very much,” Higgins replied. Out of the entire group, Ted was the only one still excited.

“I will go see the team now,” Zava announced, slapping Higgins cheek and heading down the stairs.

Rebecca stretched her arms out and yelled, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

“I do not,” Zava called back, yet kept walking.

Ted, Higgins, Shandy and Keeley looked back to Rebecca, Zava’s mere presence rendering them all speechless. Y/n was the only one matching Rebecca’s frown.

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Ted muttered, “Wowie zowie. You know what, maybe I oughta tag along in case he gets nervous. Seems like he can be a little bit of a wallflower.”

“Great,” Rebecca’s hands slapped against her sides, “And now I’m in a rush. Leslie, tell me, how did the damage control go?”

“Oh, it was a mess,” Shandy answered for the man, “But he was adorable.”

“Oh, thank you,” Higgins nodded, looking back to Rebecca and pointing behind him, “Who is this?”

Keeley came to stand at Shandy’s side, “This is Shandy, we work together. And she’s a great friend of mine.”

“Ah,” Higgins smiled knowingly, all the pieces falling together suddenly.

“Right, I’m off,” Rebecca said, gathering her purse and crossing the room. She paused at Y/n’s side, “If you can try and get His Mightiness to pose for a few pictures on the pitch, it would be appreciated.”

Y/n sighed, “No promises.”

Rebecca left on her unknown mission, Shandy and Keeley went on their way back to the KJPR office and Higgins went to oversee teardown. Y/n went back to the pitch, where the fans were packing it in and the reporters had all but left. She found the staff photographer and asked him to head to the practice pitch while she went and collected Zava.

Y/n knocked on the coach’s office and entered, pausing beside Trent Crimm in the adjoining room, “Can I borrow Zava for a few minutes?”

“Just missed him,” Roy replied.

“For the day?” Y/n raised an eyebrow.

“Yep,” Coach Beard nodded, him, Roy and Ted staring at something on their whiteboard.

“He just walked in here,” Y/n gestured from the door through the office, “Said his ‘hellos’ and’s just…done?”

“Seems that way, yeah,” Ted replied, somewhere between a smile and a straight line.

Y/n could only imagine what her face looked like, how her frayed nerves and barely concealed frustration were becoming more obvious by the second. She looked to Trent Crimm, silently begging him to tell her she wasn’t the only one who disapproved of the star footballer’s behavior. Trent replied with a reserved shrug and a stretch of his lips.

“Beautiful,” Y/n smiled as best she could, “If anyone needs me,” she turned on her heel and walked back out the door, “My head will be embedded in the drywall.”

—————————

It was a few days later and the media frenzy still hadn’t died down around both Zava’s arrival and his lack of public appearance. Y/n was fielding call after call from publications, requesting one-on-one interviews with the legend or asking when his first presser would take place or asking if the reason he didn’t show up was because he was having doubts about joining Richmond…

Better yet, Zava didn’t feel it necessary to speak to anyone.

He had, however, taken over the locker room. Four lockers had been reserved just for him plus a recliner. He’d gotten the boys to do group meditation each morning. He had the whole team eating out of the palm of his hand and to be honest, Y/n couldn’t understand why.

Thus, with Zava occupied, the focus shifted to the other Greyhounds. Keeley and Shandy had arrived to discuss interviews with some of the other players. Y/n had calls scheduled all afternoon, mostly about Zava, but also regarding a few potential endorsement deals for the boys. She was thankful for the solitude and her cheeks were pleased not to fake a smile around Shandy for the afternoon.

“Oh,” she said as she clocked Roy Kent passing her office, “Coach Kent.”

Roy reversed course and paused in her doorway, “Yeah?”

“Would you mind checking in with the guys downstairs? Keeley’s with them now,” Y/n asked, unable to leave her desk, “I would, but,” she gestured to her open laptop, a horde of new emails having just been delivered.

“Fine,” Roy replied, deadpan as ever before pausing, “You said Keeley’s with them?”

Y/n took stock of his expression, though it was nearly impossible to find whatever emotion he was actually feeling. She hadn’t seen the man smile once since she’d been at Richmond.

“Mm-hm,” she nodded.

He stayed silent, perhaps mentally preparing himself for the interaction, before nodding to Y/n once more.

“Uh, Roy,” Y/n called him back once more, fiddling with her pen, “Zava…he’s…worth it, right?”

Roy’s brows furrowed deeper, “What do you mean?”

“The fifteen calls I’ve been on today,” Y/n expanded, “The welcome event we had to cancel. The inevitable comments we’re going to have to walk back,” she paused, “He’s worth it?”

“Fuck yeah,” Roy shrugged, “Absolutely.”

While the two of them were barely acquainted, Y/n trusted Roy’s opinion. He knew football better than anyone else in the building. If he thought the headache was a worthy price to pay for victory, she’d learn to tolerate whatever chaos Zava caused.

—————————

Finally, the day of Richmond’s much anticipated match came around.

Upon arrival, Y/n made a point of confirming that His Majesty was actually on the premises, to which she was told he was in the locker room.

“Afternoon, all,” she greeted Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley as she slid into her seat.

“He is here, correct?” Rebecca asked, already a step ahead.

“There has been a sighting,” Y/n replied, a hint of a tired smile playing at her lips, “It’s packed. Did we sell out?”

“Just about,” Higgins answered excitedly, “I can barely feel my hands.”

Y/n settled next to Rebecca just as the first half kicked off. She clocked Zava in the middle of the field, in conversation with Jamie, before the two separated. Jamie kicked the ball to Zava, unremarkably, and Zava slammed his foot against it, sending it soaring across the field and into the goal.

The first fifteen seconds of the match and the crowd was already on their feet, deafening screams filling the stadium.

As Y/n celebrated with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley, she thought back to Roy’s words earlier in the week.

“Alright,” she mumbled to herself, “Worth it.”

—————————

What Zava brought to Richmond wasn’t just talent, it was magic.

With each match they won, their standings in the Premier League went up and up. The entire city was buzzing, thrumming, with excitement every weekend they Greyhounds were on the pitch.

Not only that, but Y/n was getting more and more invested in the game herself. She paid closer attention to the players, predicting possible moves before they made them, and jumping to her feet when they scored. The inkling of pride she’d felt at the Chelsea match was beginning to bloom, and she found herself starting looking forward to spending weekends in the owner’s box with Rebecca, Higgins and Keeley.

It was the win against Brentford that cemented their six-game win streak, leaving the entire team, on and off the pitch, ecstatic.

After the match, Y/n slipped into her office, grabbing her laptop to take home and return a few emails.

“Oh, Y/n,” a voice called down the hall. Y/n looked up and saw it belonged to Sam.

“Hey,” she greeted, “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” he grinned, “Listen, tomorrow night, I’ve invited everyone to the restaurant for a little preview. I would really love it if you could come.”

Y/n had successfully dodged every post-match invitation the boys had thrown at her. Be it not feeling well or extra work or a call from back home she had to take from some relative…her excuses had run dry. More importantly, she felt like a terrible person each time she had to leave Sam, almost always the inviter, disappointed.

If everyone was invited, it was more or less a work get-together. It wasn’t like it was just friends or a one-on-one hang.

“Sure,” Y/n conceded, “Sounds great.”

Sam’s smile broadened with the answer, making his hands into victorious fists. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Can’t wait,” Y/n replied, lying just one more time.

—————————

The next night, Ola’s was filled for the very first time.

All of the Greyhounds, the coaches and a few plus-ones were seated and partaking in the Nigerian cuisine Sam had ushered into Richmond. The setting was laid-back, but everyone was still riding the high of their win against Brentford.

Y/n had mostly stuck with Rebecca and Keeley at the bar, eventually bouncing around to a few of the players. While she was still reserved, the team and her had gotten to know each other more over the past six weeks.

“Sam,” Y/n finally caught the arm of the restauranteur, “This is incredible.”

“Oh, thank you,” Sam pressed his palm to his heart, “I’m so glad you are enjoying yourself,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “To be honest, I was a little nervous what you all might think.”

Y/n waved off his concern, a glass of wine in her other hand, “It’s a smash. Be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” Sam smiled once more before leaving to go and check on another order.

Y/n paused and took stock of her surroundings, watching the cheerful conversations around her. Her gaze fell on a table in the corner of the second room, where Jamie was sitting by himself, looking particularly unhappy. Curiosity got the better of her and she made her way over.

Jamie looked up as Y/n approached. She didn’t say anything, so he decided to. “What’s that face?”

Y/n’s eyebrows remained scrunched, “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re pouting when you’re on a six-game streak.”

“I’m not-“ Jamie caught himself, he knew he wasn’t exactly being subtle. Shaking his head, he looked back down at his untouched plate, “It’s nothing.”

A loud laugh bounced off the walls, drawing Y/n’s attention down the line of tables to see it belonged to Zava. She didn’t miss how Jamie’s frown intensified at the sound.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, settling on the edge of the booth, “You’re not a member of the fan club.”

Jamie didn’t answer, glumly fidgeting with one of his rings instead. Y/n recalled that during one of their last games, Zava had stolen a goal from him. Jamie had yet to score a single one so far in the season.

“If it’s any consolation,” Y/n swirled the wine in her glass, “I can’t say I’m president of it either.”

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her, his interest peaked, “Yeah?”

“Aside from the fact that he’s made my job a thousand times harder,” Y/n complained, “I guess I just don’t…get him? I’ve caught the tail end of some of his locker room motivational speeches. It’s like he knows where he’s going the first few seconds and then takes his hands off the wheel for the last five.”

Jamie laughed, the first time he’s smiled all night. “You didn’t catch the one yesterday. Car went off a fuckin’ cliff.”

Y/n chuckled, covering her mouth to dampen the sound. “It’s like he loves to hear himself talk but doesn’t actually listen to anything he says…” Y/n grasped the air and twisted it, “But also believes he’s a prophet?”

Jamie shook his head with a smirk, thankful someone else could see what he saw.

“Still,” Y/n shrugged, her eyes scanning the Greyhounds around them, “He’s taking you guys to the top. That’s gotta feel good.”

Jamie’s smile straightened back out and he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip.

“Well, I’m sorry,” Y/n chuckled lightly, “Number 4’s a pretty big improvement from 20.”

“Yeah, but look how he’s doing it,” Jamie complained, “Stealing goals, prancing ‘round the field like some show pony-“

Y/n snorted into her glass, thankful she had yet to take a sip.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“I’m sorry,” Y/n smiled, really trying not to laugh, “It’s just when I started the job, I decided to look up some Youtube videos of the team. And I’m remembering this one hotshot player who never passed the ball to his teammates and did all these ridiculous things like rip his shirt off whenever he made a goal or chant his own name with the crowd…”

Jamie stiffened, he hadn’t expected the callback to his past.

“Whatever,” Jamie brushed it off, “Point is, things were fine without him and-“

“And I don’t think anyone’s less of a Jamie Tartt-head just because Zava Fever’s going around,” Y/n finished for him. She’d watched Jamie play for weeks now, she knew how talented he was. The infatuation with Zava would pass, but Jamie could build a legacy that lasted.

Jamie’s eyes, somewhat lost, tracked upwards to meet Y/n’s. One look told him that she truly meant what she said.

“Thanks,” Jamie nodded.

Y/n nodded, she hadn’t intended to have such an involved conversation, but Jamie was a neutral party. She didn’t feel one way or the other about him. Plus, he was the only other person who could admit to Zava having flaws.

“But just so we’re clear,” Jamie leaned over slightly, lowering his voice, “Still a prick.”

“Oh,” Y/n’s brow creased, “Definitely.”

They shared another hushed laugh.

“Hey, guys,” Shandy came out from around the corner and greeted them.

Jamie and Y/n both welcomed her, but after seven weeks working side by side with Shandy, Y/n was running out of enthusiasm to muster up.

“So, Jamie,” Shandy leaned against the corner wall, “Wanted to see if I could recruit you for this little Bantr campaign we’re running.”

Y/n recalled Keeley mentioning the commercial her and Shandy would be shooting that week. Some of the Greyhounds would be featured anonymously to try and entice people to sign up.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Y/n politely smiled, finishing the last of her wine and leaving the glass, “Have a good night.”

“See ya,” Jamie nodded, shooting her a smile before returning to the conversation with Shandy.

Y/n made the rounds saying goodbye before heading out, stepping out onto the London street corner. There was enough nightlife around that she wouldn’t have trouble catching a cab.

“Hey, Y/n.”

She turned to see Ted standing a few feet away from her. “Hi,” she replied, they had hardly interacted all night, “Are you waiting for a cab?”

“Oh, no,” Ted shifted awkwardly, pointing back to the restaurant, “I’m, uh, waitin’ on someone.”

Y/n understood, unwilling to dig any deeper into the statement, “Got it.”

“Yeah,” Ted mumbled under his breath before perking back up, “You have a good time?”

“Yeah,” Y/n nodded.

“Good,” Ted smiled, “It’s good to see you gettin’ out of the office, hangin’ out with everybody.”

“Well, I mean,” Y/n chuckled awkwardly, “I think Sam just invited me because he had to. It’s not like it was a personal thing.”

Over the last few weeks, Ted had gotten to observe Y/n quite a bit. She stayed in her office as much as possible, she always took lunch on her own and the only thing she wanted to contribute to the conversation was small talk. She was removed and she wanted it to stay that way.

Ted knew there was a reason, though he wasn’t going to push to unearth it. But for Y/n to come out after hours with the team, to smile and laugh and let herself have a good time, it meant something. Even if she couldn’t see it.

“Okay,” Ted nodded, letting her think whatever she needed to think, “Well, do you need a ride home?”

“Oh, no,” Y/n replied, spotting a cab coming down the road and flagging it down, “I’m good. I’ll see you later.”

Ted smiled, sticking up a hand and waving as she climbed into the cab. If Y/n wanted to keep herself closed off from the Greyhounds, that was fine.

They could wait her out.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

#ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #keeley jones x reader #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso x reader #heartfirst

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senditcolton · 3 months

Text

I've Got the Good Side of Things

Recording their favorite show on the DVR because you know they’ll be in a little late tonight and miss it. And them being somewhat surprised that you didn’t watch it without them.

part of my Valentine's Day prompts requested by anon | word count: 0.8k | warnings: none!

The group chat you had with your friends was muted on Monday at 8pm sharp. A quick text, a small explanation, and then your phone was set to do not disturb.

Normally, you would be right there in that text thread, shooting off multiple messages, probably using too many capital letters, exclamation points, and rose emojis. That was the norm when you watched The Bachelor and when it came to the “Women Tell All” … the drama was increased by a thousand and so were the reactions they brought.

However, Mat was away on a long road trip and wouldn’t be able to watch it with you.

He told you before he left that he didn’t mind if you watched it without him – after all, you’ve watched previous episodes alone because consistent Monday nights off weren’t in the cards when Mat had to report to UBS Arena or hop on a plane more often than not.

But you knew that his favorite thing to do was sit on the couch next to you and watch the drama that came when a group of thirty-two women competed for the attention of one man. Which is why, in your mind, you absolutely could not watch the Women Tell All without him.

So, the group chat was muted and instead of Joey attempting to find love on your screen, the New York Islanders were attempting to get pucks into the Dallas Stars net. The small red light on your DVR indicated that The Bachelor was being recorded, ready to be watched when Mat came back home.

The game ends with an Islanders victory but you wait until that red light disappears before texting Mat.

‘Great game!’ you message him, adding blue and orange heart emojis at the end for good measure. It isn’t long until Mat replies.

‘Thanks babe. How was The Bachelor?’

‘Pretty entertaining,’ you type. Your response was a slight lie. You were sure that it was entertaining as hell but you didn’t have any proof to back up your statements. Thankfully, Mat didn’t ask for proof.

‘Can’t wait to watch it when I get back.’

You smile to yourself, looking around the apartment as you think forward four days. The image of you curled up into Mat’s side, a hefty glass of wine each appears easily in your mind but it is shortly followed by a different image. You look around, planning out the idea that had filled your mind.

Why not make a night it?

~ four days later ~

It took time and effort but you were ready. Plates were filled with Mat’s favorite home-cooked meal and glasses were filled with red wine, waiting on the coffee table to be consumed. The Bachelor on the television, paused on the title card, and a frankly ridiculous number of roses were scattered around your apartment.

It is silly how giddy you are, standing near your front door and bouncing on the balls of your feet as you wait for Mat to arrive. He texted you, asking if it was still alright if he came over that evening and you couldn’t say yes fast enough. You couldn’t wait to see his face – both in general and to see his reaction to your crazy plan.

A knock echoes around the room and the sound hadn’t even dissipated before you’re swinging the door open, coming face to face with Mat. You watch as his crooked smile appears and he wastes no time sweeping you into a hug.

“I missed you,” he mumbles against your shoulder.

“I missed you too.” You pull away from him and hold your arms out. “Welcome back!” you say, watching as Mat gazes around the space, taking in the state of your studio apartment.

“What’s all this?” he asks, bewildered, his eyes returning to yours.

“I lied to you. I didn’t watch The Bachelor on Monday because I wanted to watch it with you,” you explain.

“You didn’t watch it?”

Your reply is a small nod of your head.

“You made my favorite meal and decorated the apartment just so we could watch it together?”

Another nod.

“And you blew off your friends group chat? Even when I told you it was okay to watch it without me?”

You nod again, although the action this time is a little timid, a sliver of doubt blooming in your chest at his cascade of questions. Was it too much? Was it too weird? The nerves remain until that stupidly infectious smile spreads across his face.

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that, Mat!” you exclaim, swatting his chest, a laugh falling from both of you.

“I figured I’d get us in the mood. Create some drama, y’know?” he explains, grabbing your hand as he makes his way to couch with you in tow. You settle down next to him, picking up your wine and the remote before curling into his side.

“I think that this episode will have enough drama without your help,” you chirp, pressing play and hearing applause from the studio audience resonate from the speakers. Mat’s arm comes around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him in order to press a small kiss into your hair.

#nicole writes #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal fluff #new york islanders blurb #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #valentine blurbs 2k24

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writingbyshiloh · 4 months

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3 Times You Hear People Refer to You as a Team and the 1 Time You Didn't

Berlin x Reader

CW: Reader goes by Vienna and is a medical person (only 2 lines about it!) suggestive content but no smut, sneaking around? no beta

AN: I’m so normal about Berlin I promise (lying). I'm definitely forgetting a CW but nothing too bad or dramatic happens.

WC: 1.7k

“Wait, what's with team Germany? Two people with city names from the same country?” the dark-haired young man asks. You know his name is an American city, starting with a D. Dallas? Detroit? Denver!

It's obvious who half of the team is. Berlin is the capital of Germany. You don’t know who the second is. You frown while trying to remember the other city names in Europe. Oslo, Helsinki, and Moscow but none of them are in Germany.

“Vienna?” you ask, pointing a finger at yourself.

His dad, Moscow smacks him on the back of his head. “Vienna’s not in Germany, dumbass.”

Denver laughs, loud and not caring about his geographical mistake. “Right, it’s in Italy.”

Others join in laughing at his second mistake.

“It’s the capital of Austria?” You say bewildered. “They speak German but it's still very much in Austria.”

Too late for you to interject, the team name had stuck.

The second time is during one of the many drills the professor makes at all hours of the night. You had an advantage, being awake and somewhat alert.

“Any man would forfeit his share of the heist for you to look at him like that,” Berlin says quietly, smoothing his hand down your back. You’re both stretched out on your bed, hardly dressed, with tired and heavy limbs.

You feel your face heat up at the compliment but try to push it down. Both of you agreed to keep it casual but he has a hard time doing that. You stopped trying to kick him out immediately after sex to avoid his “theories” about how women need to be held. Why let him tell you when he can just do it?

“Helsinki likes men.” you counter. His words are sweet, but you don’t have much faith in him, seeing as he’s a divorcee of 5.

“He’s not blind, is he?” Berlin bumps his nose against your jaw, trying to get more space to kiss your neck.

The buzzing alarm throughout the house saves you from trying to come up with a reply. You both slip out from your bed, rooting around the discarded clothes on your floor and chair.

“Is this a weapons drill?” You ask quietly slipping a blanket over your shoulders to protect from the night air. Berlin cocks his head to the side listening to the three repeating beeps.

“Yes.”

You grab the fake weapons from your dresser specifically for these drills. You pass the fake gun to Berlin hoping it will look similar to his weapon, keeping the knockoff rifle for yourself under your blanket. Berlin kisses the corner of your mouth before opening your door and leaving towards his room. You slip out and go the other way, closer to the outside door.

You arrive at the checkpoint third, beaten by Moscow and Dever. Sometimes you hear them sharing a late-night smoke so they were probably awake. Half a minute after you Berlin arrives and Oslo follows next. The Professor nods his approval and writes down everyone's reaction time. As the rest of the group filters outside, Berlin subtly nudges your arm when Tokyo and Rio arrive together with one fake weapon between them, even though their rooms are in different parts of the house.

Nairobi is last, her sleep mask pushed to her forehead, lamenting about how early is it, how others need their beauty sleep, not her though. You hold out both of your blanket-covered arms for Nairobi and Tokyo to cozy up against the chill on the night air. You used the same blanket when there was an evening fire a few days ago so the thick smell of smoke covers any hint of your time with Berlin.

“Moscow, Denver, Team Germany, and Oslo. Congratulations on your fast reaction time and the attention you paid in the lessons, you’re free to back to bed. Nairobi, Tokyo, Rio, Helsinki, please have a coffee or a snack and meet me in the classroom in 10 minutes.”

You have a warm bed waiting for you, possible company included, so you shrug out of your blanket, letting the other two share it. You shiver in the cold air and pick up the weapon before retreating into the house.

The sun is hazy and low in the sky, calling to the bugs in the grass to move and flit around. There’s no actual lesson, but the Professor is answering questions anyone may have. Small groups have broken out, Nairobi, Helsinki, and Oslo all bonding while smoking, the Professor and Moscow talking about some negotiating, while Rio, Denver, and Tokyo are playing a card game, one filled with slapping hands on the table, and accusing one another of cheating.

You and Berlin are moving slowly to the song playing out on someone's radio. It’s not out of the ordinary, Tokyo declines every time he offers her a dance, and Moscow has no worries about spinning you around to whatever is on the radio. You even try to dance with Nairobi sometimes, both taking dramatic steps, more focused on making others laugh than the proper form.

There's still a small space between both of your chests trying to show nothing is going on between you both. It's hard though when he had two fingers hooked into the belt loops of your pants to push and pull you with ease. The dance is only a simple box step, step forward, to the side, step back, and then to the other side, but you can feel his charisma and passion in every step.

“Take a look at team Germany.” The professor says, drawing more attention to your little dance. “A negotiation is much like a dance.”

You break out of his hold to sip your drink before moving back into the starting position. With a nod for Berlin, you take a step forward and he gently pulls you in the same direction. You keep dancing, steps more slow and exaggerated for the demonstration, while he counts, a smooth repetition of one, two, three, four so the group can see the movements.

“Now…who is leading?” The Professor asks, the back end of his pen pointed at you both. Answers are overlapped, with no one strongly holding any opinion.

“Why would you say Vienna, Denver?” The Professor prompts, try to get someone to reach the answer before he needs to explain it.

“Vienna moves first, and steps forward. They’re leading.” Denver says. You can see Rio nod in agreement.

“No, it’s Berlin. Watch how he leads, helping Vienna follow.” Moscow points out.

“Yes, exactly. In a negotiation, it will be much the same. On the outside, it will look like the police are leading, and we are following. But actually…” The professor trails off, watching Team Germany dance.

You see Berlin raise his eyebrows, silently gesturing that he wants to spin you. You quickly nod, and at the start of the count, he pulls you close before pushing away. You spin away under his arm before turning back to the original dance position.

“We’re in control.”

You’re not sure if the hoots and claps from the table are for Berlin and you or the plan. You hope it's for both.

The fourth time you’re called Team Germany neither of you are around to see it.

“I think you look hot.” you tell Tokyo, sitting on her bed, watching her and Nairobi as they make last-minute adjustments to their outfits for the festival.

“You should come!” Nairobi begs you, holding out her hands to help you off the bed as if the only thing stopping you from joining is being stuck in place. You accept her help and allow her to pull you to a standing position.

“If I didn’t have a medical lesson with the Professor tomorrow, I would.”

“Oooo, sounds hot, are you going to study anatomy?” Nairobi teases. You know about how sexy she finds the Professor, something you can’t judge her for.

“No, it’s going over every medical misfire that can happen. Berlin and Helsi are going to be there too.”

You can’t tell if the look Tokyo is shooting at you is strange or if she's drunk. You don’t get the chance to ask her before Rio and Denver come crashing in.

“This is pure elegance, my friend.” Denver announces, dancing in his jacket, while everyone crowds around him.

“What the fuck! Is this Berlins?” Nairobi asks. You know it is but you don’t have a good reason to know so you let the others figure it out themselves. “He’s going to fucking kill you.”

Denver's cries of reassurance are drowned out by Tokyo shushing him and encouraging the group to get moving. In the corridor, everyone lowers their volume.

“Have fun! Be safe! Drink lots of water!” you wish Nairobi and Tokyo as they give you an over-friendly kiss fueled with alcohol. You try to wipe off the excess lipstick before giving up. Denver and Nairobi walk you back to your room on their way out, Tokyo and Rio getting something they forgot back in Tokyo's room.

Outside waiting with a cigarette, Denver reaches into the pocket of Berlin's coat and quickly retracts his hand.

“What's wrong? Cut yourself on one of his five previous wedding rings?” Nairobi asks, setting her cigarette aside to see what hurt Denver. More casually, he reaches into the pocket and pulls out a few items of jewelry. Laying them flat in his palm, he holds them up for Nairobi to examine.

“Holy shit! Those are Vienna’s.”

“Why does Berlin have them?”

“It’s fucking obvious, team Germany is fucking!”

“Who’s fucking?” Tokyo asks, arriving with Rio in tow, a few smears of lipstick around his mouth.

“Vienna and Berlin! Look!”

“What should we do? Tell the Professour?” Rio asks, surprised at the discovery. He missed all the signs from the past months that something was happening right under his nose.

“No! This is the perfect get-out-of-jail-free card.” Tokyo offers

“Tokyo you’re late to class” Nairobi says imitating the professor before using her regular voice “Well, team Germany is sleeping together!”

“No one says a word about this. We need to wait for the right time.” Tokyo says. She knows she and Rio won’t be hidden forever. But the leader and the medical expert sleeping together? That’s ammunition she can’t wait to use.

#good golly this is longer that most of the stuff I write ooof #berlin x reader #money heist x reader #x reader #n e way what do we think! Is anyone else as (un)normal about him as I am?#andres de fonollosa x reader

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she-is-ovarit · 7 months

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Ashli Streeter said Stevens Transport did not hire her because it had no women to train her. Credit...Montinique Monroe for The New York Times

The trucking industry has complained for years that there is a dire shortage of workers willing to drive big rigs. But some women say many trucking companies have made it effectively impossible for them to get those jobs. Trucking companies often refuse to hire women if the businesses do not have women available to train them. And because fewer than 5 percent of truck drivers in the United States are women, there are few female trainers to go around. The same-sex training policies are common across the industry, truckers and legal experts say, even though a federal judge ruled in 2014 that it was unlawful for a trucking company to require that female job candidates be paired only with female trainers. Ashli Streeter of Killeen, Texas, said she had borrowed $7,000 to attend a truck driving school and earn her commercial driving license in hopes of landing a job that would pay more than the warehouse work she had done. But she said Stevens Transport, a Dallas-based company, had told her that she couldn’t be hired because the business had no women to train her. Other trucking companies turned her down for the same reason. “I got licensed, and I clearly could drive,” Ms. Streeter said. “It was disheartening.” Ms. Streeter and two other women filed a complaint against Stevens Transport with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission on Thursday, contending that the company’s same-sex training policy unfairly denied them driving jobs. The commission investigates allegations made against employers, and, if it determines a violation has occurred, it may bring its own lawsuit. The commission had brought the lawsuit that resulted in the 2014 federal court decision against similar policies at another trucking company, Prime. Critics of the industry said the persistence of same-sex training nearly a decade after that ruling, which did not set national legal precedent, was evidence that trucking companies had not done enough to hire women who could help solve their labor woes. “It’s frustrating to see that we have not evolved at all,” said Desiree Wood, a trucker who is the president and founder of Real Women in Trucking, a nonprofit. Ms. Wood’s group is joining the three women in their E.E.O.C. complaint against Stevens, which was filed by Peter Romer-Friedman, a labor lawyer in Washington, and the National Women’s Law Center. Companies that insist on using women to train female applicants generally do so because they want to avoid claims of sexual harassment. Trainers typically spend weeks alone with trainees on the road, where the two often have to sleep in the same cab. Critics of same-sex training acknowledge that sexual harassment is a problem, but they say trucking companies should address it with better vetting and anti-harassment programs. Employers could reduce the risk of harassment by paying for trainees to sleep in a hotel room, which some companies already do. Women made up 4.8 percent of the 1.37 million truck drivers in the United States in 2021, according to the most recent government statistics, up from 4 percent a decade earlier. Long-haul truck driving can be a demanding job. Drivers are away from home for days. Yet some women say they are attracted to it because it can pay around $50,000 a year, with experienced drivers making a lot more. Truck driving generally pays more than many other jobs that don’t require a college degree, including those in retail stores, warehouses or child care centers.

The infrastructure act of 2021 required the Federal Motor Carrier Safety Administration to set up an advisory board to support women pursuing trucking careers and identify practices that keep women out of the profession. Robin Hutcheson, the administrator of the agency, said requiring same-sex training would appear to be a barrier to entry. “If that is happening, that would be something that we would want to take a look at,” she said in an interview. Ms. Streeter, a mother of three, said she had applied to Stevens because it hired people straight out of trucking school. She told Stevens representatives that she was willing to be trained by a man, but to no avail. Bruce Dean, general counsel at Stevens, denied the allegations in the suit. “The fundamental premise in the charge — that Stevens Transport Inc. only allows women trainers to train women trainees — is false,” he said in a statement, adding that the company “has had a cross-gender training program, where both men and women trainers train female trainees, for decades.” Some legal experts said that, although same-sex training was ruled unlawful in only one federal court, trucking companies would struggle to defend such policies before other judges. Under federal employment discrimination law, employers can seek special legal exemptions to treat women differently from men, but courts have granted them very rarely. “Basically, what the law says is that a company needs to be able to walk and chew gum at the same time,” said Deborah Brake, a professor at the University of Pittsburgh who specializes in employment and gender law. “They need to be able to give women equal employment opportunities and prevent and remedy sexual harassment.” Ms. Streeter said she had made meager earnings from infrequent truck driving gigs while hoping to get a position at Stevens. Later this month, she will become a driver in the trucking fleet of a large retailer. Kim Howard, one of the other women who filed the E.E.O.C. complaint against Stevens, said she was attracted to truck driving by the prospect of a steady wage after working for decades as an actor in New York. “It was very much a blow,” she said of being rejected because of the training policy. “I honestly don’t know how I financially made it through.” Ms. Howard, who is now employed at another trucking company, said she had worked briefly at a company where she was trained by two men who treated her well. “It’s quite possible for a woman to be trained by a man, and a man to be a professional about what the job is,” she said. Other female drivers said they had been mistreated by male trainers who could be relentlessly dismissive and sometimes refused to teach them important skills, like reversing a truck with a large trailer attached. Rowan Kannard, a truck driver from Wisconsin who is not involved in the complaint against Stevens, said a male trainer had spent little time training her on a run to California in 2019. At a truck stop where she felt unsafe, Ms. Kannard said, the trainer demanded that she leave the cab — and then locked her out. She asked to stop the training and was flown back to Wisconsin. Yet she said she did not believe that same-sex training for women was necessary. “Some of these men that are training, they should probably go through a course.” Click the article to read more. The author is Peter Eavis.

#women in the trades #women's oppression #women truck drivers #truck drivers #sexism #misogyny

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holeintheboat · 4 months

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The Outsiders Mafia AU (Headcanons)

!!WARNING: This may contain some spoilers!!!

-Johnny loves Jazz (blues are a close second)

-Darrel is called ‘Superman’ because he once stopped mid getaway to help a woman cross the street

-The entire mafia group worships Frank Sinatra

-Tim got his scar in a violent one-on-one fight with Dallas, which also led to him losing the eye

-Johnny is a FANTASTIC cook, and shares his love through food

-Ponyboy used to watch a ton of Mafia/Secret Agent movies to ‘study’ for his future job

-The Shepherds are all from Sicily, and lived there for most of their teen years

-Johnny learned to speak several languages so that he make international deals

-Angela puts hours of efforts into her curls, and once killed a man for trying to run his fingers through them to flirt

-Curly prides himself in his height, he grew to the same height as Tim just a year before the events of ‘No Permanent Death’ and loves to remind everyone

-Johnny actually has a hatred for alcohol, but drinks it (or pretends to) to make himself seem older

-Tim will only ever drink beer

-Dallas became an assassin because he wanted to be like Charlie Chan and almost quit when he realized the man was, in fact, not an assassin

-Johnny has faked his own death about six times, and has gotten creepily good at it

-Darry hates swearing, and only does it when he’s very very upset

-Darrel is the only Curtis who can speak more than just English, He learned Italian so he could understand exposed messages within the Mob

-Dallas has actually run into the Shepherds several times, he never realized Johnny was Bambi because usually the boss doesn’t participate in the fights

-The socs do exist in this universe!! Most of them are businessmen/women who the mob has killed :P

-Sylvia also exists!! She is Dally’s ex-girlfriend, she left him after she figured out he kills people for a living

-Soda and Steve are still dating Evie and Sandy in this verse. Sandy isn’t aware of what Soda does, Evie actually is also a member of the mob and often helped out Steve at work

-When Mr.Shepherd died, all of his jewelry was given to Johnny because he was taking his place. The only thing he kept was a ring (a thick, gold, engraved ring with a red ruby) the rest was given to the Shepherds to disperse amongst themselves

-The Shepherds each got one ear pierced when they were teens to be more like their father

-Johnny sees the Shepherds as his equals, which is the reason they all dress similarly. This is also why it doesn’t occur to someone that he is the boss.

-Angelas callsign “Bella” comes from the word Bello: which means Beautiful in Italian

-Johnny once shot a very important client just because they shoved Curly

-Curly is actually really bad at his job, but gets away with it because of pure luck

-Soda got the name ‘Dice’ because he's known for taking chances on the job

-Johnny called Tim ‘Scarface’ after he lost his eye in an attempt to raise his spirits, and the name just stuck

-Tim has a glass eye, but often takes it out because he thinks its funny how grossed out his coworkers get

-Johnny wanted to be a musician, and can play the sax and guitar (he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be Louis Armstrong or Chuck Berry lmao)

-Curly wholeheartedly thought he and Johnny were related for most of his life, because he wasn’t on the mission where they found him

-Johnny gives out most of the nicknames, he was actually the first person to call Darry ‘Superman’

-The Sicilian Mafia is usually very specific about only letting in Italians. Johnny called bullshit on this, and that's how Steve(slick) and Buck(comma) got put in

-Steve used to work at the DX, he got invited in to the mafia because he was the only one who was willing to take Johnny’s car (all of his former coworkers thought a scruffy child with a century old car wouldn’t pay well)

-Buck got invited in after Tim and Johnny saw a man throw a drink on him (he beat the man to a pulp and Johnny said he had good enough aim to work for them)

-Angela LOVES compliments (She forces her brothers to hype her up 24/7)

-Johnny holds large dinners with everyone who works under him once a month to get to know them. The reason so many people are willing to take orders from him is because they know he’s the kindest boss they’ll get

-Tim is incredibly well-versed in dressing wounds, it's become somewhat of his job

-Curly cannot aim for shit, and has repeatedly just handed the gun to someone else

-The Curtis’s used to have a dog before Ponyboy was born, but they had to get rid of it to be able to pay for his upbringing

-Curly is known for full-on tackling people in fights, which actually works incredibly well

-Johnny is a horrible driver and has hit several pedestrians, animals, and trees (and got very upset after each one)

-Ponyboy has a binder that he uses as a dairy, he had pages dating back to his parents death

-Curly once tried to tackle Darry on a mission, Darry then simply pulled him off and tossed him out of the room

-Darrel refuses to do any work that involves a woman, and has lost to the Shepherds several times because he wouldn’t detain Angela

-Soda once drove a getaway car straight into the side of a building, and it almost got him and Darry killed

-Johnny paid for Steve to get braces, and he had the nickname ‘Lock Jaw’ for a VERY long time

-The Curtis’s often have movie nights!!

-Johnny refuses to hurt children, and often makes someone take the kid to another room if they do anything violent

-Ponyboy LOVES the arts, and his knowledge of Italian literature and art has saved him many times

-Angela is an excellent baker, and often tries to get her brothers to help her (they fuck it up every single time)

-Ponyboy still has nightmares in this universe, and has climbed into Soda/Darrys bed several times

-Darry hates that Pony often sees him as the bad guy, but knows he has to be to keep him safe

-Johnny is known for having an odd sense of humor and it has almost gotten him killed a million times

-Tim has “la famiglia” tattooed on his right bicep, with three little hearts under it (very similar to the one his father has on his neck)

-Though Steve doesn’t have and important role in the Mafia, him and Johnny are very good friends

-Tim is what's known as the ‘consigliere’ which means he serves as an adviser to the leader and resolves disputes within the family. (Johnny refused to make anyone the underboss because he didn’t like to think of any of them beneath him in rank)

-Ponyboy is a stargazer

-Johnny was been confused for a girl several times due to his long hair, but he refuses to cut it

-Tim gets very upset when people flirt with Angela (he’s the definition of a over-protective older brother)

-Johnny has never dated anyone- he knows whomever they are will be put in danger, and he doesn’t like the thought of people he loves fearing for their lives

-Soda once got a concussion because he ran into a wall during a chase with Curly, Curly only remembers him as ‘the wall kisser’

-The Shepherds all have a violent hatred for Ponyboy because Johnny told them about what happened in the first chapter (though Johnny has never spoken about him with even an ounce of malice)

-Darrel has been shot many times, so much so that the hospital knows him by name

-Johnny can’t stand hospitals because his parents once left him at one for three weeks. So even if he is on his damn deathbed he will NEVER go to one

-Just about everyone in the Mafia is not proud to be in it, but they all know it’s the best thing they can do with their backgrounds

-Buck and Johnny are rather close, and Buck often makes him fake drinks (ones without alcohol) because he knows how much the boy hates it

-Darry and Soda are both REALLY into cars. it’s actually helped them a lot in car chases, because they can always remember the make and model of the car

-The Shepherd Family was actually not very well known until Johnny took over, but he still worships Mr.Shepherd as if he’s the most famous man on earth

-most named characters has been to prison at one point (aside from Angela, Curly, Ponyboy, and Darrel)

-The job as Boss is incredibly stressful, and Tim has taken over for Johnny on several occasions

-Tim taught Angela, Curly, and Johnny hand-to-hand combat. He’ll often brag about it to anyone who will listen.

-Johnny goes by the Shepherd name, and only signs ‘Cade’ under important documents

-Angela has the best aim out of her entire family

-Tim actually was very upset when Johnny got his job as boss, but got over when he realized just how much the job SUCKEDD

-Two-Bit and Dallas worked together when they were rookies, but Dallas eventually moved on to do bigger and better things

-Ponyboy loves August weather, but feels he can’t enjoy those months becuase that’s when his folks died

-Two has run into Angela several times and made several (failed) attempts to flirt with her

-Johnny and Dallas have actually had several conversations in this universe, But Dallas never thought he was worth killing

-Sometimes random pastries/foods would appear on the Curtis doorstep during the Great Depression, they never knew where or who it came from but it helped them to survive (take a wild guess who made them lol)

-Johnny used to play the guitar while Angela sang to help Curly sleep <3

-Darry has never once touched a cigarette, but will drink jus tan out anything put in front of him

-Pony LOVES Italian food, but refuses to eat it because it just feels wrong to him

-Red is Angela’s favorite color, which is why the whole group is forced to wear something red (she picks out their clothes literally every day)

-Mrs.Shepherd died while giving birth to Curly, so Johnny and Curly have both never met her

-The Shepherds love spring because it reminds them of Sicily

-Bucks original nickname was FAG (Funny Accent Guy), given to him by Curly

-The Curtis brothers were all relatively short as kids, but shot up the second they hit puberty

-Tim tried to kidnap Louis Armstrong for Johnny's birthday (it did not work.)

-The Mafia has two main cover restaurants. One being a bar (that we see in the first chapter) and the other being an off-brand Italian place (Whenever someone fails an important job, they are banished to work at one of these two places)

-Johnny is the shortest person on his team, so he’ll often just step on their feet when they upset him

-Darrel is an avid people watcher

-Johnny actually looked up to many of the agents, and will excitedly tell people whenever he gets in a fight with one of them (even if he completely beats their ass he's still a total fanboy)

-Dallas has a really good memory, and can easily recall every fight he’s ever been in

If you have any other things you want me to write into the story, but them into the comments :D

#writing #headcanon #the outsiders #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #no permanent death #the outsiders fanfiction #1940s #mafia #mafia au #mafia fanfic

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antifainternational · 1 year

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Far-Right Mass Shootings, May 2022-May 2023

Now that we know that the mass murderer in Allen, Texas was a far-right extremist and incel (as well as that puzzling but not-that-uncommon mix of being a racialized neo-nazi/white supremacist), we wanted to illustrate that mass shootings by the far-right are not aberrations with this list of similar events from over the last twelve months: December 23, 2022: A gunman opens fire in Paris, killing 3 Kurdish people & wounding 3 more in a plan to “kill non-European foreigners.” The attacker had just been released from prison after attacking migrants in Paris with a sword the year before. December 19-20, 2022: 22-year-old Anderson Aldrich enters a CO. gay bar with an assault rifle & opens fire, killing five and wounding 25 others before he is subdued. November 25, 2022: A 16-year-old former student storms two schools in Aracruz, Brazil, armed with two pistols and wearing a bulletproof vest emblazoned with a swastika. The teen shoots 16 people in the rampage, killing three of them. October 12, 2022: After posting an online manifesto against Jewish & LGBTQ+ people, a Bratislava, Slovakia teen shoots three people outside a local gay bar, killing two and wounding the third person before fleeing. The suspect was found dead the next day. September 27, 2022: Brothers Mark & Michael Sheppard are charged with manslaughter for opening fire on a group of migrants getting water near Hudspeth County, TX. One victim died from gunshot wounds, and one is recovering at an El Paso hospital. September 26, 2022: A gunman wearing a balaclava and a t-shirt with a swastika emblazoned on it enters an elementary school in Izhevsk, Russia, killing 15 people - 11 of them children - and wounding another 39 before turning the gun on himself. September 11, 2022: 53-year-old Igor Lanis’ obsession with far-right conspiracies ends when he guns down his wife, 25-year-old daughter, & family dog, before turning his shotgun on responding police, who shoot him dead. Only his daughter survives. August 9, 2022: A group of Black men helping someone jump-start a car in a Macon, GA. Wal-Mart parking lot are subjected to racial abuse by another man who then pulls a gun and begins shooting at them. May 15, 2022: 68-year-old David Wenwei Chou is charged with hate crimes after storming a Taiwanese church in Laguna Woods, CA. and shooting parishoners, killing one and injuring five others

May 14, 2022: An 18-year-old white supremacist opens fire in a supermarket in a black neighbourhood in Buffalo, NY, killing ten customers and wounding three others while livestreaming the attack.

May 11, 2022: A masked gunman walks shoots 3 Korean women working in a Dallas hair salon. Authorities believe the incident is connected to two earlier drive-by shootings targeting Asian-owned businesses in the Dallas area on April 2nd and May 10th. This is just a list of mass shootings committed by bigots, fascists, and far-right extremists over the last 12 months. We haven't included shooting with less than two victims, thwarted mass shootings, or any of bombings, stabbings, vehicle attacks, or other acts of violence.

In 2022 we documented 477 violent incidents motivated by hate or committed by bigots, fascists, or right-wing extremists, including 112 shootings. These attacks killed 366 people and injured 399 others. Read our 2022 report here. When we say anti-fascism = self-defence, we meant it. The endpoint for far-right ideology is mass murder. Fascists intend to do harm to our communities and will seize on any opportunity to hurt others. The only thing stopping them is ourselves. WE PROTECT US!

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dallysnecklace · 1 year

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i just wanna say i love your writing it's masterful

could you do a sleepy/cuddles Sodapop x fem!reader for my poor lonely soul please and thank you<3

“You work too much.”

Pairing: Sodapop Curtis x fem! Reader

Summary: To support yourself, you work multiple jobs. Your boyfriend starts to notice the toll this takes on you.

Warnings: Overworking, established relationship

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words!! I’m so sorry this took me fucking forever, it got lost in my drafts but I found it!! I will never take this long

The phone rang as you hid away from the loud noise of the diner, tucked away in the corner. You had just worked a triple shift to be able to afford your rent this month, which you stupidly had put off for the last week.

“Hello?” A voice came through the line. Presumably Darry.

“Hey Darry, it’s Y/n. Is Soda there?” You said, being polite.

“Yeah I’ll get ‘im for you.” There was a pause. You twirled the cord around your finger, beginning to become anxious.

“Hey, Y/n. Everything okay?” Sodas voice said, softly.

“Yeah, I’m just tired and had a long day. Do you think you could pick me up? If not I totally get it-“

“Hey, it’s fine. I’ll be there in like 7 minutes.” He interrupted your nervous rant.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Thank you so much.” You responded.

“Anything for my girl.” He said. You could picture his smile in your head.

“I love you, Soda.” You said, grateful for his presence in your life.

“Love you too, sweets.”

You put the phone back on the holder, and went to wait outside. It was a cold winter night, one you wished you could’ve enjoyed at home.

You left your home about 2 years ago when they weren’t supportive of you going to school. You had grew up in a strict household that unfortunately believed that women were worth less than men. Your family never took school seriously, and wanted to pull you out once you were 14. They believed that at that age, you were expected to start helping around the house, and start looking for a man to marry. But, over the years you really enjoyed school and wanted to pursue a life in academia. When you told your parents this, they kicked you out.

You moved a few towns over to Tulsa. You originally lived at Bucks, where you met Dallas. He wasn’t the nicest to you, but he eventually warmed up to you and even introduced you to the gang, where you met Soda. These boys seemed to understand your struggle of living alone and going to school. You finally felt like you had a group of people to support you, which you had never experienced before.

Suddenly you saw an old beat up car pull up, and a honk broke the sound of the crickets at night.

You hopped in the front seat, looking over to your boyfriend, who held a worried look.

“Hey sweets.” He said, grabbing your hand and kissing it.

“Hi.” You said, barely having enough energy to talk.

Sodapop took the message, and started to drive home. A comfortable silence wafted over to two of you as he drove back to his place. There was an unsaid agreement that you would be staying with him tonight.

On the way home, you fell asleep, lulled by the soft music playing and sodas humming.

Once you got to Sodas house, he woke you up, by picking you up bridal style and carrying you in.

Soda stepped in the doorway, to be greeted by Darry and Pony.

Darry looked up, “Hey, is she okay?” He questioned, worried for his brothers girlfriend. He really had grown attached to you, and was worried about you. He knew what it was like to have to work multiple jobs and take care of others.

Soda responded, “Yeah, she just needs to rest. Can she stay over tonight?”

“Of course, she can stay here whenever.” Darry responded, seeing you stir and start to wake up.

You woke up, at adjusted your eyes to peer upon Sodas chin, turned towards Darry.

“Hey, Thanks for letting me stay Dar.” You sleepily smiled, a blush on your cheeks from having Darry see Sodapop carrying you in.

“It’s always fine honey, you know that.” He walked back into the kitchen, leaving you and Soda alone.

He silently walked to his room, sitting you on his bed. He kneeled down onto one knee, taking your shoes off carefully. He stood back up, cupping your chin in his hand, and kissing your forehead.

“Do you want to change into something more comfortable?” He asked, making sure you were okay with it.

“Yeah.” You simply replied, causing him to get up and open his drawers, picking out a clean shirt for you to wear to bed.

He handed you the clothing, and you went to the bathroom to change.

“Jesus christ I’m tired.” you exclaimed, looking at your reflection in the mirror; noticing the dark circles acting as a shadow on your face.

You quickly changed, walking back to Sodas room. You were excited to finally get some rest. Tomorrow you weren't working, and school was out for the day. Finally a day to just relax.

As soon as you walked in, Soda took you into an embrace. You quickly melted in his arms, finally feeling like you could let go.

“Do you wanna go to bed?” He whispered.

You nodded into his chest, feeling him pick you up and place you on his bed. You got underneath the covers feeling at peace. You felt the bed dip beside you, and felt Sodas two arms pull you in, letting your head rest on his chest.

You didn’t really feel like talking, so you just held him tighter and kissed his exposed collarbone; a sign of your gratification. He dipped his head down, pulling you head up by his hand on your chin and kissed your lips softly, but filled with love.

“You work too much.” He whispered against you lips, kissing them quickly once again, “Maybe you should just live with us. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent and could focus on school.”

You looked up at him, ready to argue against his kindness, but decided against it. You were lucky you had this kind of support system.

“Thank you.” You whispered, kissing his jawline quickly, settling your head into his neck.

“I love you sweets.” He said as he rested his head back into the pillows.

“I love you too.” You responded back, in an instant.

You smiled, and rested your head against his chest again. He was so warm. Perfect for this cold winter night, and although you weren’t able to spend the whole night with him, you were forever grateful for these small moments before the both of you drift into sleep.

#the outsiders #writing #the outsiders imagine #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop imagine #the outsiders sodapop #Sodapop cuteness #sodapop curtis #sodapop patrick curtis #dallysnecklace

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ewomennetwork0 · 4 months

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How Today's Women Entrepreneurs Are Empowering The Next Generation

There's an unmistakable seismic shift happening in the business landscape today, and it's echoing loud and clear: women entrepreneurs are transforming the face of industries, catalyzing innovation, and inspiring future women leaders.

These influential businesswomen are changing the narrative, demonstrating to young women and girls that they can take charge, establish their ventures, and lead with conviction. They are embodying empowerment and driving a change that encourages the next generation to follow suit.

One of the foremost ways these accomplished women entrepreneurs are empowering the next generation is through role modeling. These CEOs, founders, and industry disruptors are living proof that ambition, resilience, and innovation are not gender-bound. By actively running successful enterprises, they are etching a clear image of what a business leader can look like – and it is decidedly female.

Next, is through mentorship. Successful businesswomen understand the unique challenges that come with being a woman in entrepreneurship. Therefore, they are investing their time and resources in mentoring younger women. They are sharing their experiences, knowledge, and skills, enabling their mentees to navigate their entrepreneurial journey with a strategic roadmap drawn from real-world insights.

Entrepreneurial education is another avenue through which women entrepreneurs are making a significant impact. They are harnessing their experiences to create educational platforms, leadership programs, and startup accelerators specifically catered to empowering budding women entrepreneurs. This targeted education not only equips future entrepreneurs with essential skills but also instills a sense of belonging and confidence.

Unlocking the full potential of your entrepreneurial journey often involves connecting with like-minded individuals who share your ambition and drive. The PLUS Membership at eWomenNetwork facilitates just that. With this membership, you have the chance to network with Sandra Yancey, the CEO of eWomenNetwork. Learn More about

More info : Business Network events for women

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stphns3311 · 5 months

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Leadership is not a one-size-fits-all concept. Yet, when it comes to transformative leadership—leadership that drives change, instills values, and encourages growth—women are increasingly taking the lead. In this comprehensive guide, we're going to explore the distinctive qualities that set women leaders apart, backed by intriguing real-life examples and hard facts.

#chicago entrepreneurs networking group #Women Networking Dallas #top women entrepreneurs in cincinnati #women entrepreneur network plano tx #women entrepreneurs network in Vancouver #Orlando women entrepreneurs network #Women Entrepreneurs Network Miami #Women Networking Events Dallas #new jersey business women network #Austin entrepreneur network #speakers network dallas

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ewnnetwork · 1 year

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Sandra & Briana's Favorite Things

When you’re a CEO, you’re a busy gal. You must ensure that your time is productive, lucrative, and well thought out, and furthermore, you must have the tools to help you do that! And yes, we’re talking about tech and software, but there are also daily items that can make you happier and more productive in play too!

Here are some of Sandra & Briana’s Favorite Things!

If you’re never heard of Stanley 1913, you’re in for a treat. A brand with a 100+ year history, Stanley 1913 is the proud maker of insulated travel cups, food storage, and more to join you on all of your adventures. Plus, their tumblers and lunchboxes are perfect for keeping your warms warm and your colds cold when you’re on the go!

Another disruptive brand to admire is Caliwater, founded by Vanessa Hudgens. A breakthrough innovation, Caliwater is the first ever cactus water beverage on the market! Packed with naturally occurring electrolytes and skin fortifying antioxidants, this beverage is delicious to boot! It’s hard to be productive when you’re dehydrated, so you better stock up! If you follow Bri on Insta, you know that she is all about products that keep you healthy and hydrated, Caliwater is a new fave!

Luxy has tons of amazing products that Sandra loves, but she especially loves the Velcro Hair Rollers. Whether she be preparing to speak on a massive stage, snuggle in for an intimate mastermind, or hop on a quick zoom call, Luxy Velcro Hair Rollers are the reason Sandra’s curls always look lush and long lasting. Luxy keeps it all in the family as Briana is a fellow Luxy lover, utilizing their clip-in extensions to awaken her “boss lady” alter ego!

Get More Info Click Here : Sandra & Briana's Favorite Things

#Female networking groups in dallas #Female entrepreneurs los angeles #success institute tx #women entrepreneurs in dallas #Success Summit dallas #million women entrepreneurs dallas

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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 1 year

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It's all bad

So there is a post going around right now about how in Plano Texas, there was a sting operation that caught a sex trafficking ring. Some of the people there were first responders and teachers. However if you look at twitter, and of course on this hell site, there are people who are SO EAGER to suck a drag queens no no bits, they had to go out of their way to post some pretty "lovely" things. Now the reason I'm posting this image, rather than just the article is to prove a point.

We have absolutely zero confirmation about what the user William LeGate said here. None. At best he tried to look up some names, and background checks on those listed. However, on the original post by the DFWPD (Dallas Ft. Worth PD) This article is not even cited. And I looked at the article. You know what WAS listed in the "jobs" let's look:

You know what WASN'T listed? Republican Politician or "Church Leader".

Now let me show you the list of disgusting individuals, which wouldn't you know it, includes a woman.

Now let's do some math shall we. Racial, and political activists will look at this image, and do exactly what they do with is judge every single thing on surface level looks. As shown by these next tweets. (Some of them having prior records)

As you can clearly see, this started a trend of #NotADragQueen and a very old and tired trope of "The church is scarier protect them from that instead of drag queens"

My question to all of you Neo Progressives is this. Why exactly are you so hell bent on bringing up an event that happened over a decade ago?

Better question. Why exactly do you care if no drag queens were VISIBLE? Is it because parents don't think it's appropriate for their kids to be in from of a adult male in exaggerated women clothing. Several of whom have been found to have criminal records of sexual assault and some even against kids? Don't believe me? Let's look shall we.

WOW, if you look at this man's mug shot, YOU'D NEVER KNOW he was a drag queen. TURNS OUT not only was he one, but also is a child sex offender.

But rather than actually care about child sex offenders, which, let's be really fair here, you don't. You'd rather have a gatcha against those, "Evil republicans".

Let me be clear. If you look at all those mugshots? You'll notice something. Varying races and ages. You know what we AREN'T shown? Political leanings of every single person there and who they have and have no voted for. My current annoyance with all of you now, is one very LARGE thing. Rather than being happy that these people have been caught, you are FAR MORE EXCITED at the prospect that this group could contain your political enemies.

HOW F*CKED in the head are you? Really? Predators find positions of power. No matter where the position is. Sometimes they actually get complacent with their power and they begin to lose inhibitions. This should have nothing to do with the church, with drag with dems, or with reps. This SHOULD have everything to do with the fact that it's AMAZING that these assholes have been caught.

Thing is? Most conservatives just don't want drag in front of their kids. That should be their choice. AS THE PARENTS. And we don't actually know the ratio of predators to non predators in the drag community. And until they get arrested and charged, much like any other person, we CAN'T know.

Catholics were SEETHING when they found out what their leadership was doing. However, it was NOT all priests. It was not even most. It was however enough that it caused notice. And that makes sense. You can expect at least 10% of any large group to be not good people. However here is the issue. You are equating an entire group, that at the time was a VERY LARGE population size of the US. Per Capita is a fun thing to talk about. And given the LIMITED number of drag queens in the US you'd expect very very few to be guilty of sex offense. However, we see time and time again that's not the case.

Am I making the argument that drag queens are predators? No. Hell, most conservatives or moderates would not even be prone to making that argument if many of you were not so dead set on having kids see it or be around it. And the level of insistence around it kind of raises red flags if I'm being honest. Also a fun thing missed by that asshole William LeGate from the opening pictures is the mention of "Teachers" in that list of people involved. Another something people have brought up concerns over.

Stop making this about trying to own the cons. It's very possible several of the people on there are LGBT or Dem. And you'd ignore that, JUST to point out anyone not on your side. WHY THE FUCK do you care. Why can't all of it be bad. Conservatives are beat over the head with a 20 year old allegation equating their religious faith AS A WHOLE, to being pedo friendly. Imagine my shock when many got fed up with it and started putting that target on others. Mostly because it was a SMALL SUBSET of said group.

And now, just like them before, you are trying to salvage "your side" and deflect it from criticism. Also one last thing. MOST actual conservatives have not, and are not accusing most or all drag queens of being pervers or pedophiles. However in your fervor to not just demand they be in front of kids, but to also defend them from any and all allegations. I can certainly from the outside looking in see how that would be concerning. What's more, we DON'T know if any of the people shown there were drag queens. Some could have been ministers in the church. Both provide apt access to the people they wish to offend against.

Do you know what the only difference is between the two? You'll defend tooth and nail the drag queen even from the accusation. You know why that's bad? Because if that happened with a minister or pastor etc, that entire church community would be in lock down and every single person in power would be gone over with a fine tooth comb. So basically in one instance, Your side defends the potential predator, and their side demands action. In the other instance, you pat yourself on the back that bad people exist on the opposing side, and that side goes out of their way to figure out wtf is going on and seek out accountability.

Long story short. In both cases they want justice. In only once case you want justice. In the other case you are jerking off about how "good" your side is. Despite a NUMBER of people PUBLICLY that vote dem are on Epstein's flight lists including to his island on a number of occasions. Point it out and demand justice in every instance. Sex crimes especially against kids isn't a joke. And yeah OF COURSE by the laws of numbers it's going to be seen more in MUCH LARGER communities. DUH! Because there are more chances for it to even exist. A child understands that level of thought.

So again I ask you. Why do you care more about having a gatcha, than actual justice. You all saw, "the other side of the isle" and went, "See we aren't the bad guys". Meanwhile if I were to do research into every one of the people listed, I could likely find a few people who I could weaponize against your side. You know why I don't? Because I care more about the fact they got caught.

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strawberryqueen00 · 6 months

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Hell no we are not letting this OFMD finale distract from that THIS LETTER.

Had a signature from Taika Waititi. I understand the sensitivity here this issue with Taika being Jewish(and that’s not my place as someone that’s Not Jewish or in those regions to condemn him on that perspective’s behalf) but this letter is directly bastardizing the situation.

Now, when there is a major production from a major figure in this platform that did this, is when we can make the most impact. Remember our values, even when those values involve a show that is strengthening the LGBTQ community.

Because this letter tore down the strength of the movement in support of Gaza. There are going to be so many people that saw this letter and take it completely uncritically, unchallenged.

Standing up for our values means sacrificing our interests, holding accountable the things we enjoy.

And also. I don’t want to see ANYONE. Being fucking antisemitic or racist towards Taika here. That is never appropriate and absolutely inexcusable behavior. You should he ashamed if you think that’s okay even after Taika’s actions.

[Text of Letter]

October 23, 2023

Dear President Biden, We are heartened by Friday's release of the two American hostages, Judith Ranaan and her daughter Natalie Ranaan and by today's release of two Israelis, Nurit Cooper and

Yocheved Lifshitz, whose husbands remain in captivity. But our relief is tempered by our overwhelming concern that 220 innocent people,

including 30 children, remain captive by terrorists, threatened with torture and death.

They were taken by Hamas in the savage massacre of October 7, where over 1,400

Israelis were slaughtered - women raped, families burned alive, and infants beheaded. Thank you for your unshakable moral conviction, leadership, and support for the Jewish people, who have been terrorized by Hamas since the group's founding over 35 years ago, and for the Palestinians, who have also been terrorized, oppressed, and victimized

by Hamas for the last 17 years that the group has been governing Gaza. We all want the same thing: Freedom for Israelis and Palestinians to live side by side in peace. Freedom from the brutal violence spread by Hamas. And most urgently, in this

moment, freedom for the hostages. We urge everyone to not rest until all hostages are released. No hostage can be left behind. Whether American, Argentinian, Australian, Azerbaijani, Brazilian, British, Canadian, Chilean, Chinese, Danish, Dutch, Eritrean, Filipino, French, German, Indian, Israeli, Italian, Kazakh, Mexican, Panamanian, Paraguayan, Peruvian, Polish, Portuguese, Romanian, Russian, South African, Spanish, Sri Lankan, Thai, Ukrainian,

Uzbekistani or otherwise, we need to bring them home.

Sincerely,

[Text of the names presented. This isn’t all of them, just the copy of this with Taika’s name on it)

Jessica Biel

Jessica Elbaum

Jessica Seinfeld

Jill Littman

Jimmy Carr

Jody Gerson

Joe Hipps

Joe Quinn

Joe Russo

Joe Tippett

Joel Fields

Joey King

John Landgraf

John Slattery

Jon Bernthal

Jon Glickman

Jon Hamm

Jon Harmon Feldman

Jon Liebman

Jon Watts

Jon Weinbach

Jonathan Baruch

Jonathan Groff

Jonathan Marc Sherman

Jonathan Ross

Jonathan Steinberg

Jonathan Tisch

Jonathan Tropper

Jordan Peele

Josh Brolin

Josh Charles

Josh Dallas

Josh Goldstine

Josh Greenstein

Josh Grode

Josh Singer

Judd Apatow

Judge Judy Sheindlin

Julia Fox

Julia Garner

Julia Lester

Julianna Margulies

Julie Greenwald

Julie Rudd

Julie Singer

Juliette Lewis

Jullian Morris

Justin Theroux

Justin Timberlake

KJ Steinberg

Karen Pollock

Karlie Kloss

Katy Perry

Kelley Lynch

Kevin Kane

Kevin Zegers

Kirsten Dunst

Kitao Sakurai

Kristen Schaal

Kristin Chenoweth

Lana Del Rey

Laura Benanti

Laura Dern

Laura Pradelska

Lauren Schuker Blum

Laurence Mark

Laurie David

Lea Michele

Lee Eisenberg

Leo Pearlman

Leslie Siebert

Liev Schreiber

Limor Gott

Lina Esco

Liz Garbus

Lizanne Rosenstein

Lizzie Tisch

Lorraine Schwartz

Lynn Harris

Lyor Cohen

Madonna

Mandana Dayani

Mara Buxbaum

Marc Webb

Marco Perego

Maria Dizzia

Mark Feuerstein

Mark Foster

Mark Scheinberg

Mark Shedletsky

Martin Short

Mary Elizabeth Winstead

Mary McCormack

Mathew Rosengart

Matt Geller

Matt Lucas

Matt Miller

Matthew Bronfman

Matthew Hiltzik

Matthew Weiner

Matti Leshem

Max Mutchnik

Maya Lasry

Meaghan Oppenheimer

Melissa Zukerman

Melissa rudderman

Michael Aloni

Michael Ellenberg

Michael Green

Michael Rapino

Neil Blair

Neil Druckmann

Neil Paris

Nicola Peltz

Nicole Avant

Nina Jacobson

Noa Kirel

Noa Tishby

Noah Oppenheim

Noah Schnapp

Noreena Hertz

Octavia Spencer

Odeya Rush

Olivia Wilde

Oran Zegman

Orlando Bloom

Pasha Kovalev

Pattie LuPone

Patty Jenkins

Paul Haas

Paul Pflug

Paul & Julie Rudd

Peter Baynham

Peter Traugott

Rachel Douglas

Rachel Riley

Rafi Marmor

Ram Bergman

Raphael Margulies

Rebecca Angelo

Rebecca Mall

Regina Spektor

Reinaldo Marcus Green

Rich Statter

Richard Jenkins

Richard Kind

Rick Hoffman

Rick Rosen

Rita Ora

Rob Rinder

Robert Newman

Roger Birnbaum

Roger Green

Rosie O’Donnell

Ross Duffer

Ryan Feldman

Sacha Baron Cohen

Sam Levinson

Sam Trammell

Sara Berman

Sara Foster

Sarah Baker

Sarah Bremner

Sarah Cooper

Sarah Paulson

Sarah Treem

Scott Braun

Scott Neustadter

Scott Tenley

Sean Combs

Sean Levy

Seth Meyers

Seth Oster

Shannon Watts

Shari Redstone

Sharon Jackson

Sharon Stone

Shauna Perlman

Shawn Levy

Sheila Nevins

Shira Haas

Simon Sebag Montefiore

Simon Tikhman

Skylar Astin

Stacey Snider

Stephen Fry

Steve Agee

Steve Rifkind

Sting & Trudie Styler

Susanna Felleman

Susie Arons

Taika Waititi

Thomas Kail

Tiffany Haddish

Todd Lieberman

Todd Moscowitz

Todd Waldman

Tom Freston

Tom Werner

Tomer Capone

Tracy Ann Oberman

Trudie Styler

Tyler Henry

Tyler James Williams

Tyler Perry

Vanessa Bayer

Veronica Grazer

Veronica Smiley

Whitney Wolfe Herd

Will Ferrell

Will Graham

Yamanieka Saunders

Yariv Milchan

Ynon Kreiz

Zack Snyder

Zoe Saldana

#taika waititi #ofmd #our flag means death #gaza #isreal #free palestine #swearing

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