#miss grant takes richmond

[thisismysecondrodeo]

here’s a request if you have time: ted giving y/n a massage?

AN: @tedssweaters wrote a lovely little massage blurb that everyone should go read. I already had this request in my queue and of course, I went in a different (read: horny) direction lol s/o to @jarfishy for the encouragement to finish this one early 😛 two fics in one day, who am I?!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: AFAB!reader, One-Shot, Sports injury turned very sexy, Smut, Porn with barely any plot, facefucking, fingerfucking, General sexy things

Fic masterlist

-

You had been obsessed with football since you were little, your older brothers happily taught you every trick they knew while they dribbled circles around you until you were old enough to start playing against girls your own age. You had long since hung up your football dreams, though, focusing on a career in PR instead. But since you started working for AFC Richmond—and dating the head coach—you couldn’t help but want to get back on the pitch again.

Over happy hour one night you told the team how much you missed playing and they all tried to get you into a drunken round of footie on the Richmond Green, absolutely gutted when they couldn’t procure a football and the coaches told them it was too dark and they were too not-sober. But after that, the boys would occasionally drop by your office on a light practice day to invite you out and you started keeping some extra athletic clothes and boots under your desk.

“You sure it's okay,” you asked Ted each time you went to step out on the pitch, trying not to linger. Though your relationship had started completely unrelated to your employment, neither of you wanted anyone to get the wrong impression. The only people that were aware you were together were Rebecca and HR…and Keeley after that one time she had come back for something in her old desk and caught the two of you….indisposed. You had to admit the sneaking around was a little sexy, but it was a bummer in times like this when you wanted to drop a kiss on his cheek after he said, “of course! Go show those boys what-for.”

You were getting into the rhythms of playing, your lungs burning with exertion and a grin cemented to your face as you darted around. You raised a hand to Dani with a call of, “oi!” and sprinted to the ball to set yourself up for a corner kick. It felt good to score, even though you knew the boys let you have that one—granted they’d been out there for hours and you were fresh from your desk, no one could blame them for being a little slow.

You were taking the ball down the field when Sam called for a pass and you looked up for him just as O’Brien went for a slide tackle and you went down hard, with a pained grunt. Ted was hovering over you in an instant, you didn’t even know how he’d moved that quickly, and you rolled off of O’Brien and onto your stomach with a laugh.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, you alright Y/N,” O’Brien asked with genuine remorse as he sat up on his knees, Ted right next to him his brow furrowed in concern.

“It was fair play, I’m perfectly fine Tommy Boy. Don’t apologize for that,” You went to get up but Ted stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t move yet, we should get you checked out,” Ted said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Ted, I’m fine. I’m a human woman, not a paper doll,” you laughed and Ted chuckled with you. “Just help me up, why don’t you?”

Ted held out a hand and you let him take most of your weight as you clambered up, took a step, and…shit that hurt. Not the worst you’d felt, but your thigh was cripplingly tight. You must have pulled your hamstring when you went down. Ted saw you grimace and his voice was frantic when he asked, “Woah now, what hurts?”

“Mmmf,” you grunted, “s’okay, just pulled my hamstring.” You gestured to your left leg and Ted’s hands were on you, squeezing with a pleasure-pain that made you groan as you braced yourself on his shoulder, not realizing how inappropriate this might seem to the players still gathered around. Coach Beard loudly and pointedly cleared his throat but it was too late.

“Coach, why don’t you work my hamstrings out like that, huh,” Jamie called out, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Roy shoulder-checked him but even he smirked. Ted blushed and removed his hands immediately. You needed to get him out of here before he started apologizing and making things worse.

“Where were you when I tore my butt,” O’Brien teased and all the players laughed at that. Ted opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Ha ha,” you stuck your tongue out at Jamie and O’Brien mockingly, “come on, Coach, help me to the treatment room?” You wrapped an arm around Ted’s shoulders, your hurt leg in between so you could use him as a crutch as you limped off the pitch. He wrapped a hand around your waist to support you, being sure to keep his hand higher than necessary.

As soon as the treatment door clicked shut behind you, Ted had you wrapped tightly in his arms as if he had found you on the pitch half-dead. Thank god the actual trainer was out for the afternoon otherwise there was no way the two of you could explain this one away as platonic concern. You chuckled a little but let him hold you, his hands gripping your t-shirt as he took deep, soothing breaths.

“Ted?”

He didn’t respond but you could feel his fingers release just a smidge.

“Teddy, I’m alright sweetheart,” you whispered with light amusement and Ted sighed and let you go.

“I know, I know you just…gave me a bit of a fright seein’ you take a tumble like that. And I’m embarrassed on top of that for not keepin’ my hands to myself and almost blowing our cover. I should have told the boys to take it easy—”

“Woah, now, none of that,” you chastised, hobbling over to sit on a treatment table. “I may not have ever been a professional athlete, but I was an athlete. I know what it’s like to be knocked down, I know the symptoms of a concussion. Hell, have I told you my front incisor is an implant? Mum was pissed after that game.” You chuckled and looked over at Ted who was wincing. “Ah, come on now darling. You see people get hurt all the time. Scrapes and bruises are little badges of hon—”

“Not you,” Ted said, his voice tight and his hands fisted in his pockets. “I don’t see you get hurt all the time. It’s not because you’re a woman or because you’re not a professional or because I don’t think you can handle yourself, I just…I love you. And I don’t want to see the person I love in pain.”

Ted had never told you he loved you before and your eyes shot to his face, searching for any indication that he didn’t mean it, that he regretted saying it. But all you saw was the vulnerability of him offering his heart on a platter. You reached a hand out towards him and he stepped closer, allowing you to tug one of his fists from the pocket of his khakis.

“I love you too, Ted Lasso,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you leaned in and he met you halfway. It was easy to forget where you were and why when he kissed you like that, but when you shifted to widen your legs so he could step between them, the tug in your thigh reminded you and you grunted into his mouth, which was not the sexy sound he’d been anticipating.

“As much as I’m loving this very sexy turn of events, do you think you could get me an ice pack?”

Ted jumped into action with a smile and you slid off the table to remove your shorts so they wouldn’t get in the way, before leaning over and locking the door. Ice pack in hand, Ted turned and you could see the way his eyes lingered, but he remained focused on attending to your injury.

“Here, why don’t you lay on your stomach and I’ll hold this for you.” You did as he asked, and jumped when the freezing cold sensation hit your skin. “Did you stretch before you got out there?”

You gave Ted a sheepish look from where your head rested on your folded arms and he clucked his tongue at you. “Well if it’s alright with you, it might be helpful to massage your other leg while this one is healing to prevent this in the future. If you’re gonna be a member of my team, ya gotta be proactive in taking care of yourself, ya know?”

You smiled and nodded as he wrapped your ice-pack thigh in a towel so it wouldn’t move and stepped to your other side, rubbing massage therapy oil between his palms before he touched you. “Does that mean you’re letting me back out on the pitch, Coach?” You didn’t mean it to be seductive, but the two of you had somehow slipped into a mild coach-player roleplay, and the moan that slipped from your lips when he pressed down deep into the muscles of your thigh didn’t help.

“As if I could tell you no,” Ted responded affectionately, using both hands to grip your thigh and rub small, deep circles down the length of the muscle. He moved down to your calf, massaging slowly and humming a tune. He switched legs, skipping your injured thigh and going straight to the calf muscle and it felt like heaven, his hands warm and firm against your skin, his long fingers wrapping briefly around your ankle. He let go and you whimpered at the loss.

“How’s your back, love?”

“If I say ‘just awful’ will you keep touching me?”

Ted laughed, a full-bellied laugh that always made you giddy when you could pull it from him. You sat up and he helped you remove your shirt and bra before you laid back down, your arms to your side, and as he walked past your head for more massage oil you couldn’t help but noticed his tented khakis. You had of course felt like this was a rather sexy scenario, but you hadn’t realized how much it was affecting Ted too. He hadn’t made any untoward comments or touched you in any way that someone with a Sports Physiology degree wouldn’t. Knowing that his care for you was NOT centered on sex, that he couldn’t be distracted from looking after you just because you were mostly nude, only made you want to fuck him more.

Ted ran his hands over your back, gently first and then with more pressure. You sighed deeply when he hit the spot between your shoulder blades that always ached from working at a computer all day. He leaned closer so he could focus in on that spot but when his erection brushed your arm he quickly tilted his hips back. You wanted to tell him it was okay but you didn’t want to embarrass him, so you settled for letting him know how much you were enjoying the experience and maybe some not-so-subtle hints.

When his thumbs worked into your lower back, you spread your legs slightly and thanked your lucky stars you had picked gray underwear today. You knew he could see how wet you were by the sharp intake of breath you heard behind you.

“Feel good,” he asked, his voice a little strained, and you smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Very. What would you say if I asked you to get my glutes…Coach?”

Ted took a deep breath that he released as a groan. “I’d say we’d need to get these off.” If you could fist pump in this position you would. You were dying for him to touch you. Not that he hadn’t been, but there were certainly more sensitive areas that could use his attention. Ted removed the towel and ice pack first, letting his long fingers trail along your inner thigh and you shuddered in anticipation. He hooked his fingers in your waistband, slid down your underwear, and then…actually massaged your glutes.

It still felt amazing, but you wanted him to sink those very capable fingers into your core, to massage your clit until you were begging for release.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hm,” Ted hummed. You couldn’t see him from this angle but he wasn’t tilting his hips back anymore and you could feel him hard against the side of your thigh.

“This is making me very fucking horny.”

Ted laughed. “Is that right? Is that you droppin’ hints that you’d like my hands…a little lower?”

“Well if you’re offering,” you joked nonchalantly as if you weren’t prepared to beg. Ted did slide his hands down but he didn’t immediately sink his fingers into you. Instead, he treated your vulva with the same care he had treated the rest of your body, a gentle but purposeful massage that made it hard to tell whether the growing slickness between your thighs was oil, arousal, or a mix of both.

“Fuck,” you whined as Ted’s middle finger parted you and made contact with your clit, but he pulled away and you grunted in frustration.

“Turn over for me darlin’.”

Ted helped so you didn’t bother your injured leg and though you were more than excited for him to go back to touching you, the real reason you felt heat pooling in your belly was getting to look at his sweet face, concern almost fully replaced with desire, his dimple deepening when his eyes locked on yours.

“Well, hello there,” you said softly and he grinned. “Appreciate the helping hand.”

“Anytime,” Ted responded as he ran his oiled hands up your belly to your peaked nipples, massaging your breasts and leaning forward to capture your moans between his own lips. You tangled your tongue with his, relishing in the slip of his fingers as he pinched at both nipples. He stood up as he trailed one hand back to its previous location. Done teasing, he wasted no time sliding two fingers into you and you tried to keep your reaction in check but you couldn’t help but whine, “Jesus, fuck Ted you feel so fucking good.”

“Shh, I’m glad, baby,” Ted said quietly, obviously not wanting to draw attention to what was currently happening in the treatment room, “just relax and let me take care of you.” He tilted his fingers up to find the soft spot inside of you that made your soul leave your body as his thumb found your clit, his other hand still alternating between your breasts. You were whimpering and whining and Ted was steadily trying to shush you but you didn’t know how he expected you to stay quiet when he was so expertly taking you apart.

“I…I can’t, fuuck, I can’t stay quiet baby.”

“You have to darlin’, you have to be good for me.”

“Mmm,” you complained but then you caught sight of his erection yet again and you ran your hand over it, smiling when he couldn’t help but press into your palm. You tugged him closer to you by his pocket, using both hands to work his pants open and Ted chuckled, “you’re just not going to let me take care of you, are you?”

You freed Ted’s length from his boxers and smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes. “I just thought something in my mouth might help me keep quiet.”

“Christ,” Ted whispered emphatically as you stroked him a few times. Somehow in all of this fingers had never stopped their slow fucking so you knew he was up to the challenge.

“You’re going to have to fuck my mouth since I don’t have the range of motion I normally do, think you can multitask?”

Ted choked on his spit and coughed, sputtering as he answered, “You’re going to be the absolute death of me.”

But it certainly wasn’t a no, and he did as you asked when you slipped the tip of him between your lips, moving slowly to match the pace of his fingers. You moaned against him, adoring the feeling of him heavy in your mouth, letting your tongue circle the seam of him when he pulled back and relaxing your jaw when he pushed back in. He picked up the pace of both his hips and his fingers and you were so close, your whole body pulsing with desire, your injury forgotten. And then Ted slid in a third finger and you were a goner, the stretch and pressure so overwhelmingly good the only thing stopping you from screaming was his dick in your mouth.

Thankfully, when he felt you clench against his fingers he stopped moving his hips, otherwise you surely would have choked. Your chest was heaving as Ted moved to pull out of your mouth but you shook your head no, leaning over to take him in hand before you released him for a gasp of air, stroking him swiftly until you could take him again. When you were ready you sat up slightly so you had more control and used both your hand and tongue to work him over, his chin tucked to his chest and his hand covering his mouth.

“I’m gonna…baby, I’m about to…” He tried to pull back, but you shook your head again and sank down as far as you could and swallowed, feeling him come down the back of your throat. Now it was Ted’s turn to gasp for air as you sucked him clean and released him.

“Can’t believe this treatment room is still haunted,” Ted said as he tucked himself back in his khakis, “you’re a goddamn succubus.”

You laughed as he helped you back into your clothes. The two of you had been missing from training for so long, you just cleaned up the treatment room and left the stadium hoping no one was suspicious. Ted shot Beard a quick text that he was helping you get home and got just a thumbs up in return.

-

A couple weeks later now fully healed, Colin stopped by your office and invited you out to the pitch again. You grinned and pulled on your athletic wear, tying up your boots before stepping out next to Ted. The two of you had decided it was long time to stop sneaking around, so this time when you asked, “you sure it’s okay” and Ted told you to get out there, you thanked him with a kiss.

Both of you looked around at the team confused when no one reacted and Ted cleared his throat, “Guess I should let y’all know that, uh, Y/N and I…”

“We know, Coach,” Sam called out with a smile. “And we’re happy for you both.” The team took to the pitch but you and Ted still looked at each other confused until Isaac came over and murmured, “Training room connects to the locker room. And it's not soundproof, bruv.” You’d never seen the color drain from Ted’s face so quickly, but you just followed Isaac out onto the pitch with a smile. It had been worth it.

And despite now knowing about you and Ted—way too much about you and Ted, it seemed—the boys didn’t take it easy on you for one second. Just the way you liked it.

[olsenmyolsen]

Olsen I

Part 7 of On The Inside With Elizabeth Olsen

Word Count: ~3.5K

masterlist

TW: Self Harm. Alcohol addiction.

Y/N POV

The ride to Olsen's feels like it's taking for-fucking-ever. I swear Mr. Bronson is taking every long way he can, but I know that's not true. When he picked me up, he could tell something was wrong. Over the course of the ride, I've sent Elizabeth a handful of texts. I know I'm being harsh, but I'm fucking pissed.

"When were you going to tell me?"

"How many more lies are you keeping from me?"

"Took a look at your wiki ENGAGED since 2019, huh?"

All messages still say DELIVERED.

Looking at her Wikipedia page was weird and only added more fuel to the fire inside me. A small part of my brain knows she must have her reasons, but I'm choosing to ignore it. Most things she told me about herself seem to be true. But why lie? She knows who the fuck she is. Granted, I guess when she picked me, she knew what a fucking dumbass I was.

When the car stops, I finally realize what my hands have been busy with. I look down at the cuts forming on my knees. It's a result of tick I do when I'm nervous/anxious/pissed off. I run my hands up and down my knees, digging into them—something I haven't done in half a year.

Mr. Bronson, like the quick man he is, opens the car door for me, helping me out. I watch him take a brief look at my knees. "I'll be waiting for your return, Y/N." I thank him and make my way to the building entrance. Thankfully no paparazzi are around, well, as far as I know. They snagged that picture of Elizabeth and me from the park, so who knows where those fuckers are.

I greet the doorman and go to walk in before being stopped. I look to the doorman stopping me. "I was just here. I'm a guest of Liz's- um, Ms. Olsen." I grit my teeth. The doorman looks me up and down. "I'm sorry, Miss, I believe you're mistaken." He begins to escort me backward without touching me.

"Really, we're doing this?" I spit out at this man. "Miss, please don't make this a bigger situation." I look up at this man. "Are you kidding me?"

"What seems to be the problem?" I turn around to see Mr. Bronson. The doorman explains how I was trying to trespass and refusing to leave the premises. Fucking prick. Mr. Bronson knows this dude is full of shit, but he pretends to listen to be polite. "Listen, I can assure you that Miss. Y/N is a respected guest of Ms. Olsen, and if you could kindly grab Mr. Madison, he can match my claim."

Mr. Bronson is MVP of the night tonight. When the doorman turns around to fetch Mr. Madison, I turn to Mr. Bronson to thank him, but he looks down at me and winks. "No problem, kid."

Mr. Madison returns without the other doorman. He opens the door, lets me in, and thanks, Mr. Bronson. "I apologize, Miss. Y/N for the trouble that has been caused to you tonight." Getting in the door isn't even my most significant issue tonight. "I'm just thankful you could help me out, Mr. Madsion." He nods, continuing to walk me to the elevator. Once I'm inside, he bids me goodnight.

Like the drive over, the elevator ride feels like it's taking its sweet time. Once the ride stops and the lift dings, I mentally prepare myself as best as I can. The doors open, and I step out into the same hallway I was in hours ago—each step to Elizabeth's door echos throughout my body.

And here I am outside her door.

I knock a couple of times and wait.

Liz POV (earlier)

I cautiously make my way over, unlocking and opening the door.

"Robbie?" I let slip out in my shock.

"Hi, Lizzie." He croaks out. I look at the man in front of me up and down. This is not the man I left in Richmond. The Robbie in front of me has let his beard untrimmed, his face looks beat up, and his clothes seem to hang off of him. I look up into his eyes. The redness and bags hanging off of them tell me everything I need to know.

I've destroyed him.

"May I come in?" I nod and gesture for him to enter. He thanks me and walks in. With his back turned to me, I wipe my now sweat-covered hands off. I watch as Robbie takes a look over everything. "Could I get you anything?" Robbie turns to me. "Just a water would be fine, please, and thank you."

I continue watching Robbie make his way to the couch. He cautiously sits down and waits. I fill up a glass of water and bring it to him. He graciously takes it as I sit down a couch cushion over from him. He takes a sip and places his glass on a coaster. "I know you hate water stains." Robbie and I both give one another a weak smile.

"So where-" "How hav-" We both start simultaneously. "Go ahead." I nod at Robbie.

Robbie briefly smiles before looking off, thinking. I am mentally trying to prepare myself for anything he might ask, but the truth is I don't have an answer for any of them.

"Before we start, Liz, I want you to know that I did not come here to argue." Robbie points his eyes to mine. He's being truthful. "I came here because we left a lot of things unsaid the last time we saw each other. I hurt you." I watch as his bottom lip starts to quiver. "I'm sorry for that. Truly. And um." Robbie breaths in. "I want us to talk about everything from Richmond to now. It doesn't matter in which order. I hope you understand."

"Y-yes," I reply through a broken voice.

Robbie's eyes glance over at me. I can tell he is thinking about how to start. After minutes of silence, a question breaks through the air. "What's their name?" I was hoping we wouldn't start with Y/N, but I can't blame him. "Y/N." I squeak out. Robbie nods, muttering the name back to himself. I also want to ask him questions, but I want Robbie to do it himself. If I start asking, it'll feel like I'm trying to steer the conversation another way.

"This whole time, I thought you were in L.A. Or maybe I just hoped you were." Robbie shrugs. I let my shoulders drop. "Robbie, I- I'm sorry." Robbie shakes his head. "I thought about you every day." Robbie offers. "I thought about you too." I retort, hoping to give him a tiny shred of happiness.

"Were you gonna come back?" The pain in Robbie's voice every time he speaks is like a stab to the heart. "Yes." "For me or your job?" I bite my bottom lip before replying. "Both." A whispered, "Okay." Falls from Robbie's mouth as he goes to take a sip of water. "I should have been more forthcoming and clear from the start. It wasn't my intention to hurt you and make you leave."

I nod. Robbie sees it and falls back into silence. I know it wasn't, but I was blinded by it all at the moment.

"What the hell are you saying!? You want to break up? Is this about what happened on set?" Robbie sighs. "Lizzie, that's not what I'm saying at all!" I throw my hands up, walking away. "Oh, really, Robbie? You just told me you've been thinking that we should take a break and slow down!" Robbie follows after me. "Lizzie! I'm just saying that we've both been way too stressed and busy with everything. Maybe we should slow down!"

I walk up the stairs and into our bedroom door, closing it and locking it behind me. "Lizzie." Robbie tries opening the door but stops when he realizes it's locked. "Babe." I sit on our bed, ignoring him, trying to catch my breath. I'm on the verge of an attack.

I hear Robbie take a seat outside the door. I run my hand through my hair, remembering the last time he asked for something like this.

We were only a couple of months into our relationship. When I was asked if we could slow things down. I was hesitant, but I agreed. His band was starting to do well, and I was being booked more frequently, so it seemed like a good decision. Only for a couple of weeks later, Robbie showed up in the middle of the night profusely apologizing, slurring his words, saying, "she meant nothing." I know he wasn't lying but yeah, it fucking hurt. What hurt even more, was how much Robbie hurt himself over it. That night he showed up. He had cuts up and down his biceps.

So yes, Robbie is right. We've both been stressed as of late. Yes, we barely feel like a couple at times. But I can't help but think about before.

"Is- Is thi- Is this like last time, Robbie?" I ask through the closed door. I hear him shuffle. "Not at all." His voice sounds sincere. Robbie tries the door again, Still locked. "Lizzie, I'm just saying that." He pauses. "That we both haven't felt each other in a while. It just seems like we're here just to be here. Maybe slowing things down and taking a step back might be good."

I break down. I stifle my cries through my palms. I didn't want to hear this. I don't want a repeat of last time. I believe Robbie when he says that's not his intention or plan, but you never know. I try to gather up as much oxygen as I can. I look around the room and make a choice.

_

Before Robbie knew it, I had two bags packed up. I shuffled my way past him and down the stairs. Robbie pleads for me to answer any of his questions, but I can't focus on that. If I stop, my body will betray me. Before I make it out the main door, Robbie asks. "Lizzie, is this it?"

I don't turn towards him, but I answer. "I just need to think about this. Us. I'll call you when I land."

"Robbie." Robbie watches me scoot closer towards him. "Take off your coat and roll up your sleeves," I ask him in a calming tone. I don't want to force him, but I need to know. How is looking at me hurts. He thinks I'm judging him, but I want to ensure it didn't happen. Robbie stands up. He removes his coat, setting it down on the arms of the couch. Robbie shuts his eyes as if he's trying to hide from the world. He carefully rolls up his sleeves.

Robbie stops at his elbows. I stand up and carefully take an arm in my hand: no marks or anything. Robbie still hasn't opened his eyes. I gently place my hand on his elbow, and I start rolling up the sleeves some more.

I take a sharp breath in when I see the first cut. I look up at Robbie's eyes closed and ashamed. I keep pulling up. One cut turns into two, which turns into five. I stop when Robbie places his hand over mine. He's looking at me through tears. "I'm sorry." I don't respond. Instead, I pull him into a hug. Both of us take it as a sign to let the tears fall.

Standing here brings me back to this morning when Y/N held me.

After a while, Robbie whispers something into the top of my head. I pull back, not knowing what it was. "What was that babe- Robie?" Robbie unwraps himself from me and takes a seat at the kitchen island. I sit on the couch cushion closest to him.

"I don't remember doing most of these." I know he is talking about his arms, but he doesn't remember? I raise an eyebrow, confused. Robbie sees it and explains. "Since you left, I haven't been taking care of myself. Well obviously. But I- I've been-" He pauses, but I already know the answer. I knew it from the second he walked in.

"You've been drinking," I say, catching me off guard. Robbie accepts my tone. "The day I decided to call you, after not hearing from you. I woke up on our kitchen floor at 5 P.M." Robbie pauses as he runs his fingers through his beard. "I don't remember the previous night." Robbie lets out a weak chuckle. "As I said, I thought you were in L.A. this whole time. Then I saw the pictures."

I drop my head into my hands. I regret not telling Robbie where I was and if I was safe. I can't imagine the hell that was running through his mind. Because I know I've been there consistently worrying about your partners' well-being for them to be silent.

"Liz." I turn my head up to Robbie. I swear, for a second, I thought it was Y/N. "Yes?" "In Richmond, I asked if we could slow down. That was a terrible way of saying that, but I did it because we were both stressed about the wedding, your show and movie, and my band. But I just wanted us to be in a good position for our future." Robbie gets up and comes closer to me. He sits down in front of me on the floor.

"Lizzie, I believe I still want that." Robbie gently reaches for my hands. I place them in his. "But I'm not going to lie before you left, it felt like for the weeks prior- It felt like we were never on the same page. We just didn't feel each other anymore. Did you feel that way?" Robbie brushes his thumb over my engagement ring. A tear falls from my face at that action.

"Yes. I didn't feel you anymore, Robbie." Robbie lets out a disappointed sigh. "Is there anything I could've done?" My lips quiver at that question because the truth is. "I don't know." I watch Robbie think.

"Robbie, when you said what you said, yes, it hurt me not because it was coming from you but because I already knew it. I knew for a while. I was scared, and I didn't want to face the truth. Robbie, I still love you. I do. But-"

"But it's not there anymore." I nod at Robbie as tears and sniffles fill the room. Robbie gets up from the floor and sits down next to me. I turn to him so we can hold each other for what might be the final time.

_

Being held by Robbie was about the last thing I expected to happen today. But it's something I needed. I'm still kicking myself over how I acted in Richmond. I have anxiety, and for me to treat Robbie how I did when he was being open with me... I'll never forget.

"Lizzie," Robbie whispers, breaking me out of my head. "It's okay. I'll be okay." I cup his face, nodding. "I want to help Robbie." Robbie places his hands over mine. "Lizzie, I- I don't. I- I've been talking with a doctor in L.A. and talked to someone from the Crisis Text Line."

"Robbie I-"

"Don't worry, Lizzie. I know that look on your face. It's one of the reasons I love you. You want to help no matter what. But this is something I have to do for myself. I leave tomorrow morning. No matter how our conversation went, I was still returning to L.A. I just wanted to know if we would be together or not."

"I'm sorry, Robbie-

"Elizabeth." This time Robbie is holding my face. "Stop apologizing. I know what's going on in that head. What's happening between us right now is happening in the most mutual way possible. Plus, you didn't force me to make the actions that I did." Robbie wipes away the tears I have.

"I understand, Robbie, but please, I at least want to do something. Let me come with you to your first visit. Is it tomorrow?" Robbie shakes his head no. "It's in a couple of days when you should be back in London. I planned it that way." I shut my eyes hurt. I know it is for the best, but ow.

I hear Robbie sigh. "Tomorrow afternoon, I'm going to an AA meeting back home. I don't believe I have an addiction per se, but we both know what the last few days have done to me, and not for the first time. So if you want to help, you can make sure I make it to that meeting. Plus, being in L.A. for even a day can make it so I can start moving out."

"Moving out? What Robbie no-"

"Lizzie, we're-" Robbie looks at me, confused. "We're-"

"I know, but as you said, I'm going to be in London. So it'll be easier for you to stay at our- the house. I trust you, Robbie." I pause. I want to say more, but I don't want to make things more upsetting or worse. "You're still my friend." I smile at him.

"Just friend, not best friend?" We both let out a deserved laugh. Robbie looks up into my eyes like it's his last time. "Thank you for everything, Lizzie." I frown, not letting the waterworks start up again. "Thank you, Robbie." We pull each other into another hug before releasing one another. Robbie goes to get up. I watch him curiously.

"This is a little weird, but could I use your bathroom before I head out?" "Robbie, you're not seriously considering leaving right now, are you?" "Well, yeah?" I shake my head no. "You're staying here tonight. No offense Robbie you look like hell. You need a shower and a good night's sleep. Plus, I want to know you're safe. So please stay here tonight." I get up, walking closer to my now ex.

"Are you sure?" Robbie is hesitant, and I get it. "Mm-hmm," I reply. I get closer and closer until I wrap my arms around him. "Plus, I can make us breakfast in the morning before our flight." Robbie puts his arms around me. "I'm going to miss your famous waffles." I unsling myself from Robbie. "What about my anchovy toast?" This causes us to both crack up. "Only a little," Robbie says through a smile I haven't seen in a long time.

_

After helping Robbie find towels and clothes, he could wear later tonight. I helped him get out of his shirt and pants, and even though Robbie told me this was unnecessary, I still wanted to help, plus a part of me was curious to see if he was self-harming anywhere else. Thankfully he wasn't. I started a nice bubble bath for him as he laughed at all the effort I was putting in. But I don't mind.

Robbie sits on the edge of the tub next to me as we wait for the bath to fill up. "Elizabeth?" I turn to him," What's up?" "I just want you to know that if anything did happen between you and Y/N, I'm not mad. You seem happy with Y/N." A smile creeps on my face. I am happy with her. "I figured," Robbie replies, looking away. "We both know I've made mistakes in the past, so I can't blame you if anything happened."

As awkward as it is, to hear Robbie say it was lovely. I thanked him before stealing his phone, so I could start a soothing, calming playlist so he could enjoy as much of his bath as possible.

Robbie thanked me for everything and escorted me out of the bathroom. According to him, it's weird for my ex to watch me bathe. I guess he's not wrong. I clean my face and eyes before exiting. Closing the multiple doors from the bathroom makes the playlist nonexistent, which is good because right now, I could use a moment to think. To think about myself. To think about Robbie and mines future apart. To think about Y/N.

My mind begins filling with Y/N before a set of knocks interrupts me.

After being surprised visited by MK and Robbie, this time, I decide to check the door's peephole."Y/N?" I say to myself.

I unlock and open the door. "Y/N? Why are you here? Are you okay?" I look Y/N up and down. She doesn't seem happy or sad. She looks hurt and upset with a mix anger. "Y/N?" I feel the tension being built between us.

"I never knew the Olsen twins had a sister."

Pt. 8

A/N

If you or anyone you know self-harm I just want you to know that you're not a bad person. We all have shit going on with us. Self-harm is not a mental disorder. It is a behavior - an unhealthy way to cope with strong feelings. The important thing is recognizing it. Talking to someone, anyone who you think can help, is always a good idea.

Here is the Crisis Text Line. Text HOME to 741741 to reach a volunteer Crisis Counselor.

Sorry to leave it on a cliffhanger but don't worry, next chapter! Stay safe, everyone.

If you have any comments or ideas, leave them <3

[time-is-restored]

ted lasso 3x11

got through the latest episode tonight, below are unassorted ramblings abt a kansas ending (which i, despite being almost certain is where the show is heading, am still ardently rooting against):

so i was talking a little with my family abt the extremely likely kansas ending*, and was mentioning how much i really don't vibe with it. i said smth like 'i mean, what's even there for him in kansas?' to which they said (fairly, and rightfully!) 'his son!'. like, that's a pretty bulletproof argument, so i guess im just writing this to figure out why i feel like even that isn't. idk. enough?

[*though if that is the ending, what's the point of the cliffhanger? it's the most obvious + expected outcome, how would it be a 'reveal'? idk, some part of me is still praying for one of those classic Twists™ ig]

like. we've known that ted has a kid since day one. we've known that he loves + misses that kid since day one. according to the text, the number one reason ted left kansas was as a last ditch effort to save his marriage, by giving michelle as much space as humanly possible. they were divorced by the middle of the season, and ted chose to stay at the end.

so like. idk. am i missing something? did he just stay bc he felt an obligation to the team? and now that they're doing well (absurdly, breaking the bounds of belief well), he feels okay moving on? like many ppl have already pointed out, that's a pretty standard plot line in these kind of stories: the mary poppin's style exit stage right. but, say ted goes home (potentially even without beard???? agh??). what's happened to him, these past few seasons? what's different now?

like, it kind of feels like im only gonna be hurt by reading in between the lines here, but kansas doesn't seem to hold a lot of good associations for ted w/o the bedrock of his + michelle's marriage. he's reduced to a morose, spaced out mess within 5 minutes of talking with his mother, he very nearly goes through the Extremely fucked up move of paying someone to spy on michelle after seeing her + jake together for an afternoon, and ofc if anything even remotely reminds him of his dad he gets triggered really badly.

and of course, maybe the idea is 'well, he's started to cope with that all now, and he's starting to talk openly with his mum + grieve his dad, so he has the tools to return' but like. does he???? his support system are EXTREMELY london based. setting aside sharon since he could always telehealth w her, all of the positive progress he's made in his 'home' life seem to exclusively come after he talks w his support group at richmond.

he ended up admitting he was mad at michelle after speaking with the diamond dogs, he was pulled out of his obsessive spiral by rebecca, and he was able to put words to his feelings abt his mum by talking w jamie. to be clear, those are all massively positive things for ted to have done, and i think they at least make a good case for ted progressive positively w his mental health (even if its all gotten a bit tell don't show in this last season). but like. what happens when all that's on the other side of an ocean?

to be clear, from the perspective of real life, it absolutely makes sense that ted would want to return to his son. but on a narrative level, im just. i feel like im being expected to take certain things about ted + henry's relationship for granted, when the text itself hasn't even tried to make those things apparent.

is henry miserable or even generally upset when he has to leave his dad/go back to his mum? not that we ever see! im pretty sure the only time we've seen henry explicitly upset is when ted was ignoring him while he was like five feet away which, yeah, mood! and last we saw, henry even sees more enthused abt richmond winning the whole thing than ted is, so its not like he thinks his dad is just going away to do absolutely nothing of import.

do ted and henry not spend a lot of time together/talk very often? technically we don't see enough of ted's daily routine to know for sure, but the casual mention of playing roblox seems to imply they spend a lot of time together! and ofc none of their phone calls ever have the vibe of 'i haven't spoken to you in ages, here's ALL THE THINGS you've missed!'. they're almost all abt stuff that happened that day.

is ted struggling with being away from henry? well... yes, duh, but i don't even think this season's done particularly well establishing THAT (incredibly obvious and free) piece of ted characterisation.

is ted capable of feeling anything other than vague nostalgia (ie: all of his annecdotes being set there) or extreme distress wrt kansas? apparently not! like, seriously, what is there for him? does he have any friends? a job? family that isn't his mother? where's he gonna live? does he miss the weather? his neighbours? like i am literally on my hands and knees give me ONE (1) concrete opinion ted has about the fucking place that isn't about its FOOD (<- ESPECIALLY coming off the back of an episode where ted was able to experience texan food So Authentic™ that it inspired a literal career-changing epiphany?? like HOW are we supposed to take that as anything other than 'ted is at his best when he acknowledges BOTH of his lives rather than cutting one out in favour of the other'???).

idk. i guess my real problem this late in the game is i can see so many POTENTIAL versions of this show, but what ive been given doesn't feel like it matches up with any of them.

i can imagine a story in which ted's avoidance + variations upon running-away tactics for dealing w conflict get thoroughly deconstructed and challenged while in london, so at the end of the show he's finally emotionally prepared to return to his life in kansas even though it's never going to be a fairytale picturesque no-problems-ever ending again.

i can imagine a story in which going back to kansas isn't good for ted, and will be a major sacrifice, but it's a sacrifice he will be making with the support of his new friends + family, and something that he is determined to make in order to be there w his son, all meaningfully juxtaposed w how he feels his dad 'quit' on him.

i can imagine a story where ultimately, the life that ted's made alongside richmond is just as important to him as his life in kansas, and so he + michelle work out a more equal and long-term custody arangement* with henry (it definitely seems like the 'you get him for the whole year and i get him on school break' was something haphazardly worked out while they were both still under the assumption he'd be in richmond for less than a year), and they alternate who goes to whose home for holidays and shit.

[*side note, why hasn't that come up at all? i'd personally think somewhere around the six month mark of working overseas i'd want to have a talk w my expartner + kid about a schedule that isn't so much of a 80/20 split? like, it's fine if henry moving isn't on the table at all for one reason or another, but at least take the time to actually SAY that??? like, what does michelle do for a living? why is SHE so happy to stay there? give me Literally Anything here gang!!!]

...but ultimately what ive actually seen on screen feels like it fits into none of those categories. eleven hours (in as many episodes!! HOUR! long! episodes!!!!!!) in and i feel like i know infinitely less about ted + his mental state than i did in s1. like, from episode to episode, the writer's aren't sure if he's stuck, or progressing, or going through that classic recovery 'one step forwards, two steps back' dance, or just completely and utterly depressed. there's no continuity. nothing that happens to him in one episode seems to have literally any bearing at all on the ted in the next episode. if u scrubbed all of the notable Ted Scenes™ of any overarching plot references, and shuffled them all up, i genuinely think you would end up w a plateau of scenes totally indistinguishable from each other!*

[*of course, this is my main critique of s3 for like. literally everyone, but it's paticularly damning when im left feeling this lost about the main fucking guy.]

i don't know. i guess after the past few weeks of being really genuinely hurt + angry + upset abt the choices made this season, the feeling im left with near the end of it all is. underwhelmed. and im really not sure what 3x12 could possibly do to change that feeling... even if i am still regrettably, but sincerely rooting for a last minute switcheroo.

[smolzaddy]

My brother took his life on the 7th of January. I feel like my world has been crumbling around me since. It’s been incredibly hard to talk about, talking about Kyle in past tense is not something I ever fathomed and it makes my heartache. Every interaction with anyone but my family feels pointless or full of pity.

I miss him so much.

When my mom’s long term boyfriend Zach passed away unexpectedly in 2016 it was so fucking hard for me; I thought I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose anyone else. Zach felt like the closest thing I’d ever get to a father figure, the only man to date my mother and make me feel like a daughter and not just an obstacle to secure my mom’s affection. Everytime I drink a yuengling beer (Zach’s favorite) I think about how he passed before I could legally drink one with him.

I was at an all time mental low before Zach had passed. I wished for death like people wish for winning lottery tickets. I, in a way felt responsible for his death. I felt like the death I wished for had missed its mark and took him instead. My mental health worsened. But I saw how the grief affected my mother and decided I never wanted to make a decision that would put her through that kind of grief again.

But it didn’t make the sadness and sense of loss go away. It just made me try to find a purpose to focus on. I decided that purpose would be my family and their happiness. Cause if I could find my own happiness, I’d love to aid there’s. I thought, 2024 is the year I focus on my family. Get us a spacious house we can all feel safe in. Make enough money that my mom never has to worry about rent, enough that Kyle and Kania would never have to work unless they wanted to.

But now with Kyle gone, I’ve lost a huge sense of my purpose in a way. Now that he’s gone, it’s harder to use my family’s happiness as motivation to not give up. Are they even actually happy? Are we all just suffering silently, with a few laughs here and there? Everytime I had a shitty shift and wanted to quit my job I’d think, you gotta keep at it to keep the family safe. To keep them sheltered and worry free. Everything I do now feels pointless. It won’t bring Kyle back, it won’t bring Zach back. I feel like since Zach passed, I was always trying to prepare myself for one of my grandparents to pass not my little brother. He was just 22, he was still just a kid to me.

Kyle always moved so fearlessly and recklessly, even if he was good at talking himself outta trouble. I always worried that he’d encounter the wrong cop or substance. I was so relieved when we moved from Richmond because I thought, no more cops that recognize his car and he won’t be anywhere near that guy who purposefully got him hooked on drugs. Prayed he’d never overdose again.

And yeah, there was still some rough days since we’d left Richmond 2 years ago. But the past year -the past 6 months especially had been so progressive I just feel like I’ve been blindsided.

Kyle used to be so private. But lately he was leaving his bedroom door open so he could talk/interact with us more. He’d leave the house and hang out with me without me having to persuade him. I was trying to build a home gym for us since he didn’t like going to the public gym and he was excited about the new weights. He was helping me get into weight lifting. We were playing video games together like every other night. We talked about the future and traveling more than ever. I told him I’d get the stuff to start up his GameCube and challenged him to seeing who could raise the strongest Chao on Sonic A2B. He agreed as long as he got to raise his Chao “dark” using Shadow. Feels like we just walked around the mall for hours so he could find our youngest sibling a good Christmas gift. Yes, Kyle was depressed, about not having a job (among other things) but he seemed like he was making his way in a brighter direction. He’d just applied for a grant to take welding classes.

Was it all just the quiet before the storm?

The night before, I had just put him on my phone bill because he had these meetings he was doing for a sales job his “friend” was trying to help him get. He met me at my job and it was raining, he hopped out my mom’s truck to put an umbrella over me cause I just pressed my hair. He told my mom my that he wasn’t sure what I did but that my hair looked really pretty and he had to protect it. We teased him and told him he looked like turnip head from Howls Moving Castle when he shielded Sophie from the rain. We set his phone up, then when we got home he was trying to help my fiancé set up their PlayStation. They talked about the games they should get and what they were excited to play together.

I just don’t know.

Later that night after we all fell asleep my mom says she vaguely heard him arguing with someone and assumed he was playing video games online with someone. He came to her room really upset and said that “friend” that was helping him with a job was a bitch. My mom woke up enough to ask him what was going on but he didn’t answer and left and she fell back asleep. We found him the next afternoon. My mom realized she hadn’t seen him all day and went to check on him and found him. I’ll never forget the cry she let out.

I feel like that “friend” said something that tiggered Kyle and it just happened that we were asleep and not there to talk him down. Kyle’s had episodes before but we’d talk it out, go for a drive, whatever and he’d calm down overtime. Kyle was impulsive though, I wonder how much that played into this.

Kyle and I used to bicker a lot, it took me growing up and learning the signs/behaviors to realize we were just siblings on the spectrum that had/needed different types of communication/care. But we meshed more than ever recently. But even when we didn’t mesh I never wanted this.

I love you, Kyle.

[papermoonloveslucy]

HERE COMES THE JUDGE!

Oyez! Oyez! All Rise for the Honorable Jurists of the Lucyverse!

“Lucy the Conclusion Jumper” (1968)

APPROACH THE BENCH

Clarence Wilson played a Judge in one of Lucille Ball’s early films, Blood Money (1933). It was the first of three of his Judge roles. 

C. Montague Shaw played the Judge in Jealousy (1934), a film in which Lucille Ball has a bit part. He also played a Judge (not the legal kind) in 1935′s Carnival, also with Ball, as well as eight more screen Judges! 

Lucille Ball played a Beautician and Edward LeSaint played a Judge (both uncredited) in Fugitve Lady (1934). Of LeSaint’s more than 325 screen credits, more than 60 were as Judges; nine in 1939 alone. They included the cult classic Reefer Madness (1936) and a film titled A Woman is the Judge (1939). 

Etienne Giradot played Judge Peterby and Lucille Ball was an uncredited chorine in Hooray for Love (1935). He went on to play Judges in two more films. 

Howard Hickman played 28 Judges from 1934 to 1941, including Judge Jonathan Travers in the Lucille Ball film Next Time I Marry (1938). 

In 1940, Lucy and Desi’s elopement required two Judges!  Probate Judge Harold L. Knapp waived the five-day wait required by Connecticut law, and Justice of the Peace John P. O'Brien performed the ceremony at the Byram River Beagle Club at noon on Saturday, November 30, 1940. Some aspects of the event were fictionalized on “I Love Lucy” in 1952 with Irving Bacon playing Justice of the Peace Mr. Willoughby. 

Walter Abel played the Judge in Dance, Girl, Dance (1940). In 1935, he was seen in the film The Three Musketeers with Lucille Ball. Abel also played a Judge in his final television role in 1976. 

In Valley of the Sun (1942), Lucille Ball played Christine Larson and Billy Gilbert played Judge Homer Burnaby. Gilbert was also seen with Ball in I Dream Too Much (1938) and Joy of Living (1938).

Also in 1942, Ball played the lead in The Big Street in which Julius Tannen played Judge Bamberger. He also played a Judge in The Lady in Question (1940). 

There were two Judges in the Lucille Ball film Ziegfeld Follies (1945), both in the segment titled “Pay the Two Dollars”.  Judge #1 was played by Joseph Crehan, who later played the Detective in “The Great Train Robbery,” a 1955 episode of “I Love Lucy.”  Of his 382 film and TV credits, more than a dozen were as Judges.  Judge #2 was played by William B. Davidson, who was also seen with Ball in Roberta (1944) and Lover Come Back (1946). Coincidentally, Davidson’s final film was titled The Judge Steps Out (1948). He played a Judge in five films. One of his early films was titled Good Morning Judge (1928). The two Ziefeld Follies Judges do not appear in the same segment as Lucille Ball, “Here’s To The Ladies.”  

Walter Soldering and Joel Friedkin played Justices of the Peace (a Judge with limited jurisdiction, generally with the ability to perform marriages) in the Lucille Ball / Van Johnson film Easy To Wed (1946). Friedkin played a JOP in three other films and a Judge in eight! Soldering played four JOPs and six Judges.  

Selmer Jackson played the Judge in the Lucille Ball / Franchot Tone film Her Husband’s Affairs (1947). His first time playing a Judge was in the Jimmy Durante film Carnival (1935), in which Lucille Ball played a nurse. Twenty more Judge roles followed, including Mighty Joe Young (1949). Ball did the script for radio in 1949, although the actor playing the Judge went uncredited and unidentified. 

Edward Forbes played the Judge in Lucille Ball’s tour of the stage play Dream Girl (1947-48) which began in Princeton, New Jersey.  

The film What My Next Husband Will Be was announced in June 1948 as a vehicle for Lucille Ball. It wasn’t long before Ball had been assigned to Miss Grant Takes Richmond (see below) and the role was recast with Rosalind Russell. The title was changed to Tell It To The Judge (1949) and Russell’s character was changed from a Broadway star, to a Federal Judge.    

George Cleveland played Judge Ben Grant in Miss Grant Takes Richmond (1949) starring Lucille Ball and William Holden. The Judge is the uncle of Ellen Grant, the title character played by Lucy. This was Cleveland’s fifth film with Lucille Ball in four years. In 1954, Cleveland played a Judge on TV’s “Death Valley Days.” 

IN RECESS

When Ball did Miss Grant on radio in 1950, the role of Judge Grant was taken by Arthur Q. Bryan, best known as the voice of Elmer Fudd. Bryan played Mr. Chambers, new owner of the Tropicana in “Ricky Loses His Voice” (1952).

Gale Gordon played Judge Skinner in the My Favorite Husband episode “Valentine’s Day” broadcast on February 11, 1949 on CBS Radio. 

JUDGE: “There is no problem too big to solve. Into every life a little rain must fall. Every cloud has a silver lining, and it is always darkest before the dawn.” LIZ: “Well now that we’ve had the weather report, let’s get on with the case!” 

Lucy ended up appearing before another Judge played by Gale Gordon on “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” (see below).

Alan Reed played Harry, the Judge in the My Favorite Husband episode “Television” broadcast on CBS Radio on June 17, 1949.  Reed was best known as the voice of Fred Flintsone, but also appeared as a cafe owner in “Lucy Visits the White House” (1963).

FINAL ARGUMENTS

“Television” was the basis for the “I Love Lucy” episode “The Courtroom” (1952), in which the Judge was played by Moroni Olsen. 

LUCY: “Well, Your Honor, now that I think of it, maybe it was Ricky who took the back off the set.” JUDGE: “Really?” RICKY: “Well, now that I think of it...yeah.”

Olsen played a Judge in three other films. 

Fay Roop played a Judge in The Long, Long Trailer (1954). He also played a Judge on “Perry Mason”, “The Twilight Zone”, and several other TV shows and films. 

Jorge Treviño played a Judge in the very first episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” “Lucy Takes a Cruise to Havana” (1957). Treviño had played Ricky's Uncle Alberto when “The Ricardos Visit Cuba” (1956).

Gale Gordon played Judge Phillips in “Lucy Makes Room for Danny” (1958), an episode of “The Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour” which was a cross-over with “Make Room for Daddy.”  

Ernest Sarracino played the Danfield Judge in “Lucy and the Runaway Butterfly” (1963). After Lucy races through his courtroom with a butterfly net, the Judge explodes at the Prosecuting Attorney.

JUDGE: “Mr. McClay! This is nothing more than a cheap theatrical stunt designed to prejudice the jury! Remove this woman from the courtroom!  Order in the court!” (Lucy’s net lands over the Judge’s head)

In 1966 he played an Italian Judge on “The Red Skelton Show.” He returned for two episodes of “Here's Lucy.”

Busy character actor Parley Baer played humorless Judge Jack D. Kasten in “Lucy the Meter Maid” (1964). After Lucy attempt to re-enact the circumstance of ticketing Viv’s car, the Judge stops her mid-testimony. 

JUDGE KASTEN: “Officer Carmichael, will you please explain the meaning of this travesty?” LUCY: “With the court’s indulgence, I’m trying to establish a time element.” 

Baer played MGM’s Mr. Reilly in “Ricky Needs an Agent” (1955) and the furniture salesman Mr. Perry in “Lucy Gets Chummy with the Neighbors” (1957). This is the second of his five appearances on “The Lucy Show,” including another Judge! He also made two appearances on “Here’s Lucy.” He played a Judge on “The Joey Bishop Show” (1964) and “My Living Doll” (1965), both filmed at Desilu Studios. In addtion, he played a Judge on a dozen other film and TV shows. 

Harry Holcombe played a Judge in Yours, Mine and Ours (1968) starring Lucille Ball and Henry Fonda. Holcombe played Judges in 18 film and TV shows, including two episodes of “Perry Mason.” He did background work on “Here’s Lucy,” including the series finale, “Lucy Fights the System” (1974). 

John McGiver played the Judge in “Lucy is Her Own Lawyer” (1964). 

JUDGE: “Mrs. Carmichael. Is it absolutely necessary to have this incessant jumping back and forth? You’re making the Bench nervous.”

McGiver previously appeared on the series in “Lucy is a Kangaroo for a Day” (1962). He appeared opposite Lucille Ball as Mr. Babcock in the movie musical Mame (1974), a film that also featured a Judge (see below). He played five other Judges in films and TV shows, including Judge Thatcher in the 1973 musical Tom Sawyer.  

Sid Gould played the Camden Cove Judge in “Lucy and the Soap Opera” (1966). 

JUDGE: “Order in the court!” LUCY: “Hear me out, Your Honor!” MR. SHANNON: “Hear her out? Throw her out!”

A frequent supporting player on “The Lucy Show” and “Here’s Lucy,” Gould was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton. 

Parley Baer returned to play another Judge (this time with eyeglasses) when “Lucy Sues Mooney” in 1967.

JUDGE: “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Any lady who would admit to being over thirty must be telling the truth.” MR. MOONEY: “She wouldn’t be telling the truth if she admitted to being over forty!” 

In “Lucy the Conclusion Jumper” (1968), Kim and her classmate Don are talking about keeping a household budget and visiting a city hall Judge for a school project. Lucy jumps to the conclusion they are going to get married! Lucy urges Harry to meet her at the Marriage License Office because she thinks Kim is about to elope with the supermarket box boy. When Harry hestitates, she says:

LUCY: “Well, she’s not going down there just to sing ‘Here comes the Judge! Here comes the Judge!’” 

Two years later, in “Lucy and Sammy Davis Jr.” (1970), Sammy says his producer loves to sue and that his favorite words are... 

“Here comes the Judge! Here comes the Judge!”  

This is a catch-phrase popularized on “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In”, first spoken by comic Pigmeat Markham, and later by Davis. The NBC show’s second half hour aired opposite “Here’s Lucy.”  

Hayden Rorke plays Judge Gibson in “Lucy and the Raffle” (1971). Coincidentally, the episode also features Gale Gordon and Sid Gould, former Lucyverse Judges. Rorke appeared on stage with Ball in Dream Girl (1947-48), a show which also featured a Judge (see above). He appeared on “I Love Lucy” as one of “The New Neighbors” (1952). Rorke was best known for his role as Dr. Bellows on “I Dream of Jeannie”.

John Wheeler played Judge Bregoff in Lucille Ball’s Mame (1974). In 1991, he played Judge Ciglio in the TV movie Runaway Father. The film also featured former Lucy Judge John McGiver (see above) as lawyer Babcock. 

Lucy’s final jurist was Allan Rich as Judge Cameron Potter in “Lucy, Legal Eagle” (1986). This was the penultimate aired episode of a Lucille Ball sitcom. Rich started playing Judges on TV in 1976. In 1983, he played four TV Judges, including several appearances on “Hill Street Blues” and “Gimme A Break”. His first big screen Judge was in 1997′s Armistad. In all, Rich donned Judges robes two dozen times! 

COURT ADJOURNED!

[connorhunter]

6 EXAMPLES OF MEDICAL APPOINTMENT TRANSPORTATION SERVICES

Patients' no-shows are an unavoidable issue that no medical practice wants. It leads to lost revenues for the practice and wasted appointment times that other patients need. Over 3.6 million patients miss their appointments each year because they can't get to them. 

One of the top reasons patients give from missing an appointment relates to transportation issues. But there is one simple solution that could reduce most of these issues in general " Offering Rides".

partnering with just one rideshare company could lead to a 27% reduction in no show rates within just one year.

In this article we will be discussing about 5 medical appointment transportation services.

1.UBER HEALTH

Uber health was created when health information technology supplier Cerner teamed up with uber to get people to and from healthcare appointments. The main reason behind this was to provide people with medical appointment transportation services.

Doctors can schedule rides on behalf of their clients wherever under service is available. 

That way people don't need the app or even a smartphone to use a service. Providers receive real time updates to view patient pick up time and when they're set to arrive to keep everything on schedule.

2.Johnson Health center.

Johnsone health center in Virginia offers free rides to and from medical appointments for all of their clients. The service was started in 2017 for Amherst county in Lynchburg but in 2019 it expanded to include Bedford and Campbell counties. 

A grant from central health enabled Johnson health center to buy a second ban to expand the service. Johnson health center provides its clients with medical appointment transportation services.

3.Express Medical Transporters.

Express medical transporters offer a variety of non-emergency transportation options. The company has over 350 non-emergency medic vans, these include stretcher and wheelchair assistance vans as well as ambulatory vans. 

Their service places a special focus on helping cancer and dialysis patients express medical transporters also 9ffer specialty help. This means they have services for those special needs and disabilities as well. The services offer private pay and medicaid billing solutions. It also offers flexible timing with any odd appointment times and discharge schedules with its 24×7 capabilities.

 Not only what they offer available for medical needs but they're also assisting schools. Express medical transporters offer pickups and drop offs to schools. Trained assistants for students with special needs and disabilities, out of district rides, homeless student assistance under the mckinney-vento act and wheelchair assistance with lift equipped vehicles.

4.Tendercare

In Richmond Virginia tendercare recognizes the importance of care for the elderly it uses vehicles that can handle both stretcher and wheelchair requests because they have many vehicles they can add vehicles when necessary or substitute them out if one in their main fleet needs repairs. 

Tendercare uses current GPS technology ensuring that companies are on time for their visits as well. The company also takes pride in its safety measures, they make frequent checks of their vehicles and hydraulic wheelchair lifts. 

Tendercare expanded its offering to not only provide rides to appointments but also mobility products, these include wheelchair ramps, stair lifts and vertical platform lifts. They sell, rent and install these products. They also offer financing options for those on tight budgets especially with retirements. Tendercare is the best example of Medical appointment transportation services.

5.Logisticare.

Logisticare provides medical appointment transportation services.  Logisticare states that they are the nation's largest non emergency medical transportation manager. Organizations use logisticare to manage their non-emergency medical transportation programs by working with all involved parties. Non-emergency medical transportation (NEMT) is transportation by ambulance, wheelchair van, or litter van for those who cannot use public or private transportation.

Logisticare often helps states and organizations solve community healthcare challenges. Health professionals can book rides for their clients but families and social workers can also schedule rides.

 Logisticare ensures users are eligible and that they receive the services they need to get where they need to. Logisticare monitors all rides by using GPS tracking safety and random curbside checks. 

6.BEYOND RIDE

Beyond Ride is a non-emergency medical transportation agency in Washington state. Beyond Ride has enormous experience in the Medical transportation industry as it has been in this industry for years now. Beyond Ride is widely known and appreciated for its timely, safe and cheap medical transportation facilities. 

Behind Ride core value is to serve its customers with dignity and respect. Beyond ride provides its customers with professional and experienced Non emergency medical transportation services. 

Beyond Ride's main aim Is to make specialized transportation more available and affordable throughout Washington and Pennsylvania. Customers know that they are safe and secure while choosing services from Beyond Ride.

[twobootsgirl]

[izimbracreenshots]

Miss Grant takes Richmond by Lloyd Bacon, 1949

[effulgentpoet]

endless list of favorites:

MISS GRANT TAKES RICHMOND (1949)

Oh, we're just trying to make ends meet, down at the office.

[erstwhile-punk-guerito]

[frivolous-pastel]

will this finally be the motivation I need to ACTUALLY learn shorthand

[cupcakemolotov]

reporter caroline the first and only media allowed behind the scenes of the countries biggest wolf pack led by alpha klaus mikaelseon

Maybe a mate prompt? It doesn’t have to be a werewolf mate thing, unless that’s what your muse says to do. I love all your fics.

-

Thanks for dropping these prompts off. My brain went careening down this one, hopefully you enjoy! Under a cut as it might be a smidge NSFW, but not really.

-

Caroline was not in the mood for company.

Outside, snow fell in a heavy curtain, a soft hiss of noise against the window of her hotel room. Snow. A blizzard warning, of all things, in Virginia. Usually, she didn’t mind the idea of a white Christmas, but usually she was tucked snugly in her apartment in New York, her pantry stocked with her favorite hot chocolate mix and half a dozen bottles of wine. She’d had plans to flirt with the hot neighbor across the hall, zoom Bonnie at whatever location her bestie was at these days taking pictures, and experiment with the perfect Hot Toddy recipe to fight the sniffles. Ever since her mom had died, she’d developed a routine. It was a good one, if she said so herself.

She should have known this assignment was cursed from the beginning. Matt never gave up a story if he thought it would go well, bragging about having inherited his grandmother’s sight. As someone who knew all about witches and just how dangerous they could be, she called bullshit, and called it often. What Matt was good at was peering over shoulders just far enough to not be noticed, or lingering at the copier to see what other people were printing. If he could have hacked into her email without being noticed, she had no doubt he would do it.

So when her boss had casually mentioned that Matt had a family emergency and would be unable to make this trip, to interview the Brand Spanking New Alpha who had taken a huge chunk out of his neighbors territory and had the temerity to hold it, well, Caroline had known she was being baited. They had needed someone to cover the story, and this close to Christmas, finding someone willing wasn’t exactly easy. She’d also known that it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. The packs were notoriously tight lipped, rarely granting interviews, and that someone had managed to wrangle this one at all would be giant fucking feather in her cap, when she pulled it off.

Her byline on the front page. On a copy that would sell extremely well, because all supernatural content did. It was why Matt tried to hog it. She couldn't turn it down.

Besides, she hadn’t been back to Virginia since the funeral, and she might have missed it. Just a little. The trees, the decency of her neighbors. The small town feel that said you knew everyone and everyone knew you, except when you didn’t. She’d told herself at the very least, she’d get the chance to remember why she’d left in the first place. It wasn’t like she was going to Mystic Falls, Richmond was a world away from her hometown.

Caroline had gone in knowing the story. Klaus Mikaelson, twenty-eight years of age. Ridiculously young to have taken over a pack. Attractive, in that tumbled curls and fulls lips way that was unfairly framed in dimples. She hadn’t let the idea of his good looks spook her. Werewolves were a nightmare to date, and as she unfortunately knew from Tyler, Alphas or Wanna-be-Alphas were the worst. Territorial was both an adjective and a verb where they were concerned, and she wasn’t about to let a pretty face throw her off her game.

She had a mission. Get in, ask the questions that needed to be asked, and write a kick ass article that she could pin to Matt’s cubical when she got back from wherever he’d been. He deserved it, after the shit he’d pulled getting her yanked off the Silas story. An overnight trip, an extra day to write the damn thing and then she could start her Holidays on a high note.

Except nothing was going to plan.

First, her flight had been super delayed because of storms and she’d gotten a scant few hours of sleep before her big appointment. Then once she’d gotten to the location the wolves had chosen, they had tried to insist that she didn’t have the correct credentials. Power plays were hardly unexpected, and she was no rookie to cower. She’d refused to budge, they’d gotten snarly, and someone had finally called in Klaus after she’d slapped the email exchanges between the PR Department at the Paper and the Beta that she’d printed off onto the table.

He’d shown up, dressed in dark jeans and a Henley, seemingly unconcerned with the bitter wind. Pretty, ruthless, with a temper to match the cut of his dimples. Caroline had known that. She’d known every googlable fact about Klaus and had made some careful calls to Bonnie and a few trusted people from her hometown to find out a few more. She believed in being prepared, over-prepared when she could manage it, and everything she found out resonated with her as truth. Dangerous when riled, his moods could be mercurial, but he held what was his with teeth and claws, and hadn’t had a challenge in nearly a year.

Facts.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared her for the way he slammed in her chest when their eyes met. It’d felt like stepping into the quiet before a storm, the heavy, intent feeling of wild summer storms building on the horizon, the rumble of thunder a distant thrum in her ears. She’d never experienced anything like it in her life, and it had taken teeth gritted effort to keep from embarrassing herself.

Magic. It had to be some sort of magic, though she didn’t know what. What a time for Bonnie out somewhere in the Australian outback.

Klaus hadn’t even so much as blinked when she’d felt like she was drowning, so she’d brushed it off, had squared her shoulders as she dug out her recorder and notebook, lifted her chin, and waited for him to sit down for the interview he had agreed to do. She’d flown out the week before Christmas for this, when she should have been shopping and wrapping presents, carefully arranging the ornaments on her tree to absolute perfection.

He could damn well respect her time. There were thirteen laws and two treaty violations he’d have to contend with if he so much as threatened her to avoid his commitment, and they’d both known it. All she had to do was be professional, and she didn’t have to worry about a thing.

It’d been the politest, most difficult interview of her life. Getting Klaus Mikaelson to talk about himself was like pulling water from stone, and if he’d been surprised by the depth of her knowledge, well, that was a him problem, not a her problem. By the time they’d wrapped up the allotted time, her jaw had nearly creaked with how hard she’d been clenching it.

Then her flight had been canceled due to mechanical issues.

Thankfully, her hotel had been able to accommodate her for the extra nights stay, and she’d ordered in over-priced room service, treated herself to a glass of wine, and sat down to start working on the rough preliminary outline of the article she’d been chewing on for a couple of hours. In the end, Caroline almost wished she dared order a second glass. Something about listening to the recording of Klaus' voice, the deep rumble of sound that brushed over her skin over and over as she replayed answers and took notes, left her hyper aware of things that were best ignored. She’d been attracted to her interviewees before. She wasn’t made of stone, and physical chemistry could be tricky. That she found Klaus Mikelson hot as well as magnetic was unfortunate, but she’d deal.

It wasn’t like she would ever see him again.

When the internet had gotten spotty, she’d gone to be, ready to be done with the ridiculousness of her day, with plans to wake early to start finagling outline into actual words before her rescheduled flight.

The sooner she could shake the dust of Virginia from her boots, the better.

Except she’d dreamed. Of roaming hands and lingering, wet kisses, of those curls she’d wanted to entangle between her fingers, the crease of a dimple against her fingertips. The feel of naked skin pressed so closely to her own.

She’d woken hot and sweaty, heart pounding.

Then, instead of making a dignified escape, the world had disappeared in a flurry of snow and sleet and her best chance of leaving Virginia was going to end up being once the storm cleared out. Which meant the next day, if she was lucky.

And now someone was knocking on her door.

Someone who would not stop.

Swiveling the slightly uncomfortable desk chair she’d been hunched over for the past three hours, Caroline scowled. She hadn’t ordered room service, there was no one who knew she was really here other than her job, and the front desk had agreed to let her keep her room as they had received multiple cancellations due to the weather. She’d left the Do Not Disturb sign on the door to avoid this very thing.

When the knocking continued, she shoved back and stomped to the door. Yanking the door open, her biting comment died on her lips. Standing with his hand lifted, head tipped in a manner more wolfish than man, was Klaus. The softness of his sweater was unfairly temping, and his curls were damp from the storm.

“What do you want?” Her words were flat, torn from a mix of embarrassment that she’d dreamed of him naked and that she couldn’t fight the blush she could feel heating her cheeks.

His eyes dropped, tracing the splash of color on her skin, and the edge of his lips curled into something dangerous to her sanity

“Hello, Caroline. It appears we need to talk.”

[lonestarbattleship]

The first Commanding Officer of USS TEXAS (BB-35) was Captain Albert Weston Grant. In 1913, he took command of TEXAS during her builder's trials. He was her Captain from March 12, 1914 till June 10, 1915 and retired on April 6, 1920, Vice Admiral Grant. He passed away in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania on September 30, 1930.

He was born on April 14, 1856 at East Benton, Maine and grew up at Stevens Point, Wisconsin. "He was appointed to the United States Naval Academy in 1873. Until 1913 the law required that Naval Academy graduates serve two years at sea before being commissioned ensign.

Upon graduation in 1877, Graduated Midshipman Grant served his two years in the old Civil War veteran ship USS PENSACOLA (1859) before transferring to USS LACKAWANNA (1862) and receiving his commission in 1879.

He had a long, distinguished career in the Navy, serving in a great many ships before being assigned to TEXAS. His early years as a young naval officer saw the transformation of the United States Navy from the age of wooden-hulled vessels, some still driven by sail, to modern all-steel, steam-powered ships. In fact, Grant later participated personally in the Navy’s modernization efforts by helping to bring electrical power to his venerable old ship Pensacola.

As important as the technological changes that were taking place in the Navy during Grant’s time, and the expansion of the numbers and types of ships in the Navy, was the need to transform the 'mind set' of officers and sailors alike. Naval vessels had always operated as independent entities responsible for carrying out the Navy’s mission at home and abroad. It was now becoming necessary to operate in units, with coordinated movements, to face the potentia threat of other nation’s navies in more complex combat actions than the simple line of ships. The creation of the Naval War College was part of the process of training naval officers in the new strategy and tactics of a modern navy.

Grant was one of the early student naval officers, and when completed the course at the War College he was sent back to sea in USS TRENTON (1876) (operating as part of the Asiatic Fleet), USS RICHMOND (1860) (Asiatic Fleet), USS SARATOGA (1842) (operating as a school ship) and then USS YORKTOWN (PG-1) (operating on the Atlantic Station). The latter two ship names will one day be much more familiar when assigned to aircraft carriers. Following his time in those four vessels, Lt (now full lieutenant) Grant returned to the Navy Yard at Norfolk. It was during this stint that he was part of the team bringing electricity onto Pensacola.

After a three-year posting as an instructor at the Naval Academy, an assignment reserved for the most impressive of young officers, Lt. Grant returned to sea duty, and soon found himself serving on USS MASSACHUSETTS (BB-2), during the Spanish-American War. Aboard Massachusetts, Grant experienced his first naval combat. As part of the initial blockade of Cuba, MASSACHUSETTS shelled Spanish forts and fought with Spanish ships. While missing the actual Battle of Santiago, she fought alongside USS TEXAS (1892) against Reina Mercedes, forcing that Spanish cruiser to ground herself.

That same year, 1898, he was transferred to the gunboat USS MACHIAS (PG-5). MACHIAS also fought in in the Spanish-American War, and at the end of 1899 steamed to Washington to participate in ceremonies honoring American naval hero Admiral George Dewey. While in MACHIAS, Grant was promoted to lieutenant commander, and then sent back to the Naval Academy to resume his role as instructor of future naval officers. Returning to sea in 1902, Lieutenant Commander Grant served in the battleship USS OREGON (BB-3), as Executive Officer (XO) and then was made Captain (CO) of USS FROLIC (1892) in 1903, operating in the Philippines.

In 1904, he returned to the Naval Academy again as an instructor, was promoted to Commander and soon put in charge of the Department of Seamanship. While in that capacity, he wrote the textbook for naval tactics, 'School of the Ship: Prepared for the use of Midshipmen at the U.S. Naval Academy', published in 1907 (Annapolis: United States Naval Institute, 1907). His would be the textbook used by many other future captains of battleship TEXAS during their times at the Academy. Soon, the instructor became a student as he left the Academy and took the advanced course at the Naval War College.

Finishing there, Grant was given command of the supply ship USS ARETHUSA (AO-7), one of the support vessels for the upcoming Great White Fleet, sent around the world by President Theodore Roosevelt to show off the United States Navy.

When that fleet set out on its two-year cruise, Commander Grant was made the fleet Chief of Staff, onboard USS CONNECTICUT (BB-18). During the cruise he was promoted to captain, and then named commander of CONNECTICUT. When the cruise ended in 1910, he returned to shore duty and was made commander of the 4th Naval District and then commander of the Philadelphia Naval Yard. In 1912 he was given command of the Atlantic Reserve Fleet, and in 1913 was named supervisor of the 3rd, 4th and 5th Naval Districts before being relieved of those jobs and transferred to the Newport News Shipbuilding Company.

At Newport News, Captain Grant was responsible for overseeing the construction of the Navy’s newest ship, the super-dreadnought TEXAS. TEXAS and her sister ship USS NEW YORK (BB-34) were the new breed of extraordinarily powerful battleships. Supervising her construction was a great honor and responsibility for Grant, taking official command on her launching in 1912 and upon her commissioning in March 1914, he was her first CO. As a TEXAS's 'plank owner' (part of the original crew of a new ship), Captain Grant had to deal with all the inherent problems of sea trials for the ship and training for the crew. One of her massive engines even threw a rod during her speed trials, much to the embarrassment of the contractors, but eventually she was declared sound and complete and handed over to the Navy. In her time, TEXAS represented the height of naval technology and complex machinery and training a new crew was a huge undertaking. For Grant and his crew her shake-down did not last quite as long as they might have hoped. Almost literally before her paint was dry, TEXAS was ordered to Mexico as part of President Woodrow Wilson’s show of force and seizure of Veracruz, April 1914, just a month after commissioning, making her shake-down cruise the journey south for her first assignment.

During TEXAS’ time in Mexican waters, she made a short November return to the United States and her name state where Captain Grant presided over the acceptance by the ship of a beautiful silver service donated by the people of Texas—still on display in the ship’s Officer’s Wardroom—and adoption of the ship’s first mascot, a bear cub named Ursa, December, she returned to the United States and a regular routine of training exercises, repairs and cruising up and down the east coast and into the Caribbean having developed into the efficient and powerful naval vessel she would be for her entire time in the Navy.

In 1915, Grant was promoted to rear admiral, left TEXAS and was made commander of the Submarine Force of the Atlantic Fleet while the United States maintained uneasy neutrality as much of the rest of the world was engulfed in World War I. Once the United States entered the war, Grant’s vast experience made him a great asset to the Navy, and in 1917 he was given the wartime rank of vice admiral and command of Battleship Force One, Atlantic Fleet, earning the Distinguished Service Medal in the process.

After the war, Admiral Grant was made commandant of the Washington Naval Yard and superintendent of the Navy Gun Factory before his retirement in 1920. His last years were spent in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with his wife Florence. Grant died in 1930, and was buried in Norfolk, Virginia."

-information from Chuck Moore, owner of battleshiptexas.info: link

A Fletcher Class Destroyer was named after him, USS ALBERT W. GRANT (DD-649). She was laid down on December 30, 1942 and was christened by his granddaughter Miss Nell Preston Grant on May 29, 1943. She commissioned on November 24, 1943 and decommissioned on July 16, 1946.

source, source, source, source, source

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command: NH 63406, NH 43579, NH 108650, NH 49907, NH 53960, NH 61686, NH 73318

NARA: 19-N-55226

[oldhollywoodfilms]

Here's five to watch on TCM for the week of Oct. 18, 2021:

1. The King and I (1956) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Wednesday, Oct. 20: A night of Rodgers and Hammerstein musicals starts out with this film about an English governess (Deborah Kerr) who travels to Siam (modern Thailand) to be a teacher to the king's many children. R&H's glorious score ("Getting to Know You," "Shall We Dance," "Hello, Young Lovers") is more than reason enough to watch, but there's also sumptuous production values and an Oscar-winning performance from Yul Brynner.

2. Hammer Horror Festival on Thursday daytime: The lineup of horror films from this legendary British studio starts out with Bette Davis fright-fest The Nanny at 6 am ET/3 am PT, but, as you would expect, there's also a great lineup of monster movies starring Hammer regulars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Click here for the full lineup: https://www.tcm.com/schedule?icid=mainnav15-daily-schedule&fbclid=IwAR3i3sZ-uwEb9h1d5vxaSFyWCVnWgaCplhf52_MoD7X-3w1lvPU2vJ-ITIg

3. Miss Grant Takes Richmond (1950) at midnight ET/9 pm PT Thursday night/Friday morning: 16 years before they teamed up for the "L.A. at Last" episode of I Love Lucy, star-of-the-month Lucille Ball and William Holden made this delightful comedy about a naive secretary who starts working for a bookmaking operation. Miss Grant Takes Richmond was one of the few films that allowed Lucille to do slapstick (she was coached by Buster Keaton for the film).

4. Jason and the Argonauts (1963) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Friday, Oct. 22: There's no better way to spend a Friday night at the movies than with this fantasy film featuring stop-motion animation from the legendary Ray Harryhausen. Jason and the Argonauts is part of a night of films about the new Academy Museum in Los Angeles, so viewers will probably get a glimpse at some of Harryhausen's models.

5. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane (1962) at 8 pm ET/5 pm PT Sunday, Oct. 24: Director Robert Aldrich and stars Joan Crawford and Bette Davis teamed up for this horror flick that deconstructs the nature of stardom and the second-place status of older women in Hollywood. It's also one heck of a thrill ride with scares aplenty.

[professortennant]

Hello! If you like either of these from the kissing prompts post, I’m partial to #8 (shoulder kiss) because Hannah’s got amazing arms and shoulders and #13 (goodbye kiss) because I’m a sucker for a little angst

this was gonna be a 5 times fic and i was gonna get both of these in here but then i finished 3 and like......couldn’t bring myself to write the angsty goodbye part so INSTEAD have like 2500 words of fluff and light angst

i.

The first time she takes him to the airport, his first season as AFC Richmond’s head coach is over and she has granted him a blissful two months of reprieve from paperwork and contract negotiations. 

(“Are you sure?” he’d asked, looking at her—really looking at her—to make sure she wasn’t putting on a front for him. “Because I can help. I mean, I’m not so hot with laptop thing or the math thing, but I’m pretty good with the people thing.”

“I know,” she’d said, patting his arm gently. “But I can handle it. Go be with your boy.”

He’d let out a little yip, pressed a kiss to her cheek and practically leapt and run out of her office, calling out over his shoulder, “You’re the best boss!”)

It’s a thirty minute drive from her home to his and another hour to Heathrow and Ted spends every last one of those minutes bouncing his leg and checking and re-checking his phone, pulling up the electronic boarding pass as if making sure today was the right day and time and—

“Ted, the plane isn’t going anywhere without you on it.”

“Right, right.” He slipped his phone back into his pocket, twisting in the passenger seat beside her. It felt too impersonal to send her drive to pick him up or to allow him to hire his own driver, not after the hell she’d put him through this season. It was the smallest of steps in her journey to earn back his trust (no matter how many times he’d told her she already had it). 

“Can I tell you something?”

“I sense you will no matter what I say.”

He’d just grinned at that, hands wringing nervously in his lap. “What if too much has changed? What if I get there and Henry and Michelle have formed their own little club that I’m just not part of anymore?”

“Oh, Ted,” she’d sighed, taking her eyes off the road for just a moment to look over at him in sympathy. “That’s—that’s just not going to happen.” 

“But what if I get there and I don’t fit?”

“Ted, I don’t think there’s anywhere on this planet that you don’t fit.” He’d blushed a little at that in an aw shucks way that she found entirely too endearing. She tried to remember her promise to herself: to be more open, to be more available. Right. She adjusted her hands on the steering wheel and flicked her gaze over to him once more, just to make sure he was still listening. “My father was a very successful businessman. He traveled all over the world and was always away from home. I missed him terribly, even if I knew he wasn’t leaving because he wanted to.”

“Not really helping, boss.”

“But,” she continued, glaring at him. “Whenever he came home, it was the best day of the year. He used to gather me up into his arms and swing me around in our front garden and tell me all the stories of the places he’d been to and it wiped away every moment of missing him once he was back. I never felt like he didn’t belong back home. Not once.”

The feeling of Ted’s hand settling atop of hers on the gear shift startled her and she looked down, took in the sight of his tan, calloused hand covering hers. She made the tight turn into the drop-off lane in the Heathrow Departures section of the car park. 

“Thanks, Rebecca. Really. I mean it.”

“Yes, well, family is hard.” And this was the part that would cost her, would hurt like hell. She threw on her hazards and put the car into park. “Ted, while you’re home, I-I want you to think about your position here at Richmond.”

He frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I pulled you away from your family to bring you here and I know things have changed for you, but if you need to leave, if you want to check if Wichita State will take you back while you’re home, I would understand.”

“Rebecca,” Ted said, a small smile on his face. He gripped her hand in his, tugged it into his lap and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles in a soothing manner. “I told you already: You and me have got unfinished business here.”

“But, your fam—”

“I’m coming back.”

When he said it like that, firm and sure and like a promise, she couldn’t help but believe him, the reassurance settling something anxious in her chest, a fear that she didn’t know she was harboring.

He leaned across the console and for the second time in two weeks, pressed a soft, barely-there kiss to the curve of her cheek, his mustache tickling her, before disappearing just as quickly, sliding out the car and ducking back in for a moment to tell her goodbye. “Thanks again for the ride.” He winked at her and then, “See you in two months.”

(About ten hours later, in the middle of the night, she received a text message from Ted: a picture of Ted and Henry in the front yard, Ted’s arms wrapped tightly around the little boy, their heads thrown back and laughing. The picture was blurred enough for her to tell that they were in motion. Ted’s accompanying message read: Thanks for the advice, boss.

She pressed the little heart reaction on each of the messages, just as Sam had shown her last week .)

ii.

 Between the start of the Championship League and Christmas, things had changed around the AFC Richmond clubhouse. Roy now wore a coach’s jacket and lanyard, scowling his way up and down the football pitch. Keeley sported a shiny ring on her left hand and a new title as Richmond’s Media and PR Director. Beard and Nate spent every waking moment attending matches across the country, absorbing the strengths and weaknesses of their opponents and working on ways to incorporate new strategies into their own game.

And over weekends spent exploring the winding cobblestone paths of London’s markets, ducking into older-than-Shakespeare bookshops together and weekends spent cooking barbecue and walking through parks, Ted and Rebecca had found somewhere along the way that they meant more to each other than just boss and gaffer, than just friends.

(He’d always assumed when it happened—if it happened—it would be in a rush of emotion after a big game or in quiet, shared comfort after a loss. But it had nothing to do with AFC Richmond, they came together on their own over a shared love of yellowed paperbacks and the bit of latte foam in his mustache and her gentle, exasperation with him, thumb swiping over his top lip and—and then her mouth on his, his hands on her hip and cradling her face, a murmured, “Finally,” against her lips.)

But tonight is Ted’s last night in London for a week, closing the gap between Boxing Day and the first week of the near year in Kansas City with Henry. They’d fallen into a devastatingly easy intimacy, one she knew she would never recover from. His flat was all but vacant now, most of his clothes and books mixed up with hers—his stack of adventure books and motivational, leadership workbooks on his side of the bed and her stack of mystery novels and Sudoku puzzles on hers, his open jar of peanut butter on her kitchen counter and her sheets smelling of his body wash.

Tonight, they sit up in bed, the soft, yellow light of their bedside lamps allowing them both to read in bed together, glasses perched on the ends of their noses. Beneath the bedsheets, Ted’s toes wiggle excitedly. 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna sleep,” he tells her, dogearing his page and putting the book away, rolling onto his side to face Rebecca. “Feels like Christmas all over again. Two Christmases, Rebecca.” 

She looks at him over the rim of her glasses, smiling ruefully at him. “You better sleep tonight or the jet lag will kill you.”

“So wise,” he teases, leaning over to press a soft kiss to her exposed shoulders. She sighed, and kissed the top of his head before returning back to her book. But Ted didn’t roll back to his side of the bed, instead tracing his fingertips along the hem of her pajama top, lips pressing once more to her shoulders, open-mouthed and enticing.

“Ted,” she warns, voice low and breathy. “What do you think you’re doing?”

His hand slides against her belly, creeping up to cup her breasts and thumb at her nipple while his mouth works over the curve of her shoulder and to her neck, nuzzling against her and encouraging her to tilt her head back to allow him better access. 

“I just thought of a very, very good way to tire myself out and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Oh did you?” She scratched her nails down his back and into his hair, holding his mouth to the place on her neck that made her legs feel like jelly.

He hummed against her skin, reaching blindly for her book to toss it off the bed and settle atop her, mouth working on the underside of her jaw and then to her mouth, kissing her hungrily.

“A week apart, Rebecca,” he gasps against her mouth, pressing his hips against hers and grinding down. “That seems an awful long time.”

She loops her arms around his neck and one leg hitches around his hips, bringing their bodies closer. “A week and then you’re coming back, right?”

She hates that she still has to ask, hates that she needs the reassurance, hates that she is terrified he will leave her behind irreparably broken.

His face softens and he traces a fingertip over her brow and nose and kisses her softly. “Coupon for life, remember, young lady? I ain’t goin’ anywhere without you.”

She presses her forehead to his and breathes him in, tightens her hold on him for a moment and memorizes the feel of him against her. And then he moves against her and it’s a rush of frenzied touches, gasps and moans, slick skin and hurried, whispered assurances. 

When she drops him off at the airport, this time with a soft kiss, and watches him disappear into the sliding double doors of Heathrow, she remembers his words: I’m coming back.

iii.

Their first fight involves raised voices and snappy words and a level of miscommunication that would make Keeley feel ashamed. It starts with a bad day for both of them—frustrating lawyers dragging their feet on salary re-negotiations and a string of vapid, mind numbing conference calls for Rebecca and a team of unmotivated, surly footballers for Ted, in-fighting and dirty scrimmage play making his blood boil. It ends with Rebecca snapping at Ted for not loading the dishwasher properly and Ted accusing her of micromanaging.

“You know what,” he growls, barely keeping a lid on his temper, can feel himself spiraling out of control. “You once told me to leave before I say something I regret and I think I better just do that.”

“Good! Go!”

She watches with a heaving chest and pounding heart as he collects his AFC Richmond puffer jacket, steps into one of his many pairs of Nikes, and storms out the front door into the evening and away from her. 

The moment his form disappears from view, her face crumples and she collapses into the kitchen chair, face buried in her shaking hands. As far as fights went, it certainly wasn’t the worst she’d ever had, her mind helpfully supplying her with flashes of the knockout-dragout fights she and Rupert had frequently engaged in, the cruelty and worst of each of them always sneaking out. 

But cruelty wasn’t in Ted’s bones and it wasn’t in hers either. She didn’t want to fight and she didn’t want to go to bed alone and angry, not after nearly a year of sleeping next to Ted every night.

She sent him a quick text: I’m sorry. Bad day at the office and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Come back home and we can talk about this.

But no response comes and all she can do is wait, pacing the front hallway, cleaning and cleaning and cleaning the kitchen. She sticks her finger into his peanut butter jar and hopes the sticky substance will help hold her heart together until he comes home. 

Maybe she’d always expected it would come to this—her ruining them, driving him away, just as Rupert had said she’d done to him. 

Not enough, Rebecca. You’re just…not enough for me.

But, she reminds herself, Ted is not Rupert. She and Ted are not she and Rupert. He’ll come back, they’ll fix this, it’ll be fine. Her head repeats it over and over again like a mantra, but her heart is stubborn and frozen in paralyzing fear.

Twenty minutes go by.

Thirty.

Forty. 

An hour later, she picks up her phone, checks it again but there are no messages from him, no indication that he’s coming back. A small, desperate sob slips out from the back of her throat and she presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the sting of tears away.

The sound of the front door opening startles her and before she can rush into the hallway to see if it’s him, Ted stands in the sitting room before her, brambles in his hair. 

“I, uh, got a little lost walking around, got stuck in my head. And, you know, the streets look a lot different at night, so—”

But she doesn’t care if he wandered into a bush or hitchhiked home with an aardvark or whatever ridiculous adventure he’s been on in the last hour, he’s home.

She stands, throws her arms around his neck and shoulders, presses herself against him and buries her face in his neck. “I’m sorry,” she gasps into his skin. “I’m sorry.”

He shushes and soothes her, rubs his palm over her back and up over her head, slipping his fingers into her hair and stroking over and over again. “Hey, hey, none of this, okay? I’m sorry, alright? But we got through our first big fight, right? We’re okay, we’re okay.”

She holds him tighter, turns her head to kiss his neck and cheek and jaw and lips. “I was so worried you weren’t going to—” But she can’t even finish the worry, ashamed she even doubted him, some fears too deeply ingrained. 

Ted cradles her face, rubs his thumb over the curve of her cheek. “I told you, sweetheart, you got me for life. You got your listening ears on?” He reaches up to tug gently on her ears, making her smile. “Okay good, listen up: I will always come back. For as long as you want me, you got me.”

“Okay,” she sighs, turns her head into his palm and kisses the center of his hand. “Okay.”