#i like ted lasso. i like drawing him. i want to draw him better. i end up drawing him over and over and over and slowly improve thru that

[pineappical]

I’m literally obsessed with how you draw Ted and Trent they’re sooooo ✨ can I ask how you learned to draw anatomy bc I’m in love with how you do it

THANK YOU!!! also ive never taken any classes/lessons for art so most of what i draw is just a whole bunch of "fuck it we ball" and VERY heavily referencing images ive collected by roaming pinterest (cringe) and whatever..

^like that for example

its mostly a trial and error and some drawings never even survive the hard sketch part but it honestly just boils down to drawing the same guy over and over and over for like. 50-70+ drawings now HELP?

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Unexpectedly Yours: Part 13

Fandom: Ted Lasso (Regency AU)

Pairing: Roy Kent x F!Reader

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

Series Masterlist

You feign illness the day after your discovery of Roy and Duchess Georgina. You couldn't find the strength to do anything at all.

Your mother had checked up on you, of course, after breakfast. You reassured her it was just a head cold that would dissipate within a day or two.

Around lunch time, your lady's maid came into your room, "Miss, um, Lord Kent is here to see you."

You sigh, looking over your shoulder from your writing desk, "Tell him that I'm ill and in no state to see anyone today."

You can see your hand maid have some hesitation, but she only replies with, "Yes, miss." She leaves promptly.

You sigh, moving from your writing desk to your reading nook in your window sill. It was your favorite part of your room. The way the sun shines through it, illuminating the small cubicle. It also gave you a few of the street below. When you're not in the mood to read, you like to watch people go about their days.

Unfortunately, when you decide to peer down, you see Lord Kent exit your home and bound back to his carriage. For some reason, he turns and looks up, immediately catching your gaze. You see sorrow in his eyes but you scoff, immediately moving away from the window.

He has the audacity to be upset when you found him with his ex-lover? How dare he!

_______________________________

Clara watches her brother pace back and forth in the drawing room. After he told her what happened, she couldn't help but roll her eyes. She never liked Georgina and of course she would find a way to still hurt Roy after all these years.

"She hasn't written me about breaking off the engagement so that must be a good sign, right?" Roy asks his sister, "Maybe I should try to see her again later? I caught a glimpse of her and she seemed well."

Clara rolls her eyes, "Brother, trust me, she needs time. Allow her that. She's heartbroken."

"But if she'll let me talk to her, I can ease her-"

"Roy!"

He stops, looking at his sister helplessly, "Please, give her time. Maybe, I should see her later rather you?"

Roy relents with a sigh, "Fine. I suppose that is best."

_________________________

Before dinner, your lady's maid announces that Clara was here to see you. Did Roy really send his sister to speak with you? A part of you wants to send her away as well but decide against that.

"I'll meet her in the drawing room."

Moments later, you enter the drawing room to find Clara sitting on the chaise sipping some tea.

She stands to greet you, "Hello, Y/N."

You curtsey, "Ma'am," and then sit on a chair across from her.

Clara chuckles, "Back to formalities again?" You don't answer and she continues to speak, "I heard you were feeling unwell earlier. I take it you're feeling better?"

"Getting there."

Clara hums, "My brother didn't send me. In fact, I decided to come here instead of Roy." She pauses to see if you would say anything, but you remain silent. She sighs, "Roy may be an arse sometimes, but he would never hurt you like that, Y/N. He loves you. Truly. I've never seen him this way before. Georgina may have been his first love, but you, you're different."

You slump forward, all propriety slipping from you, "I just can't see him right now, Clara. Give me another day and I'll be ready to talk to him."

She nods and stands. She makes the short distance to you and places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to him, Y/N. He wouldn't ruin this. What you saw, I'm sure, was very heartbreaking, but I think you should listen to Roy has to say," she kisses your head before leaving.

______________________

After breakfast, your handmaiden accompanies you to the Kent estate. You're escorted to the sitting room and one of Roy's servants steps out to find his master. It's not long until Roy bursts into the room.

You swallow down a nervous gulp and stand, "Good day, sir," you curtsey and Roy's jaw clenches.

"Please, don't do that. You don't ever need to do that with me."

You sit down and Roy, hesitantly sits on the couch with you, but on the opposite end.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, nervously rubbing his hand along his pant leg.

"Physically, I'm fine, but...my heart hurts, Roy."

Roy gulps and nods, "I understand. What you saw that day-I'm sure I'd feel the same if the circumstances were switched. But, Y/N," he turns his entire body to face you, "I can assure you what you saw was unwanted by me. Ge-The Duchess had thrown herself at me."

"Why though? Why would she do such a thing if she's already married? Married to a man that she left you for, no less."

Roy couldn't help but chuckle, "When she saw us together at the ball, she saw how happy I was. How happy I am when I'm with you. Unfortunately for her, her marriage to the Duke isn't what she expected it to be. She wants an annulment and wants to be with me again." He watches as your jaw clenches and you grip your dress tightly.

He reaches out, placing his hand over yours, "Hey," he says softly, "I don't want anything to do with her, Y/N. Only you. You infuriatingly beautiful and smart woman, you. You drive me up the walls in the best way. You challenge me and you fit so well with Clara and Phoebe. I can't see myself with anyone but you, Y/N."

"So, you still love me and you still want to marry me?"

Roy chuckles, "I gave you that, frankly, incredibly romantic speech and you still ask me if I still love and marry you?"

He brings your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses it, "I love you. I adore you. I yearn for you. Irrevocably so. I want to be by your side forever."

You immediately press your lips to Roy's and you can feel him smiling. He pulls you closer to deepen the kiss but the door pushes open and you hear a surprised gasp.

You pull apart to see Clara with a smirking from the threshold, "Well, I'm happy things turned out well."

You promptly distance yourself from Roy, "Apologies."

"Don't be. I'm just glad my brother won't be sulking around the house anymore."

Roy glared at his sister, "I wasn't sulking."

"Of course you weren't, brother. Anyways, I believe you two should continue wedding planning, yes?"

You shoot up from your place on the couch, "Yes! Oh goodness, there's still so much to do," you turn back to Roy, "Will you be available today? Oh, nevermind, it's too last minute. You must have-"

Roy chuckles as he stands, "I'll cancel my meetings. My future wife needs me," he slips his hand into yours and looks at you with loving eyes.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Needy Little Thing

Smutober Week 1

Prompt: Thigh-riding

Character: Roy Kent (Ted Lasso)

1.2k words

Warnings: Thigh-riding (ofc), clit play, Roy teasing the reader, more obsessing over Roy Kent's thighs

It had been a long day of work for both of you; it felt good, lying in bed, listening to the sound of Roy’s breathing as he read, little hums vibrating against your ear whenever he got to something interesting. His arm was snug around you, affectionate and firm, pulling you close. Wanting to be closer, you hooked a leg around his thigh, pressing yourself against him.

You loved the fact that Roy slept in his boxers; his legs always felt so warm against your skin, always so strong with that thick, dark hair you loved to run your fingers over. And now, his thick thigh flexed between your legs, close enough to your clothed core to have your tummy fluttering but far enough to leave you wanting more.

Confident that Roy was preoccupied with the novel you’d recommended to him, you slowly inched closer, not stopping until you situated yourself in the perfect position to get the friction you craved. Holding your breath in an attempt to not draw Roy’s attention, you gave the smallest little brush against him.

Fuck.

With no noticeable reaction from Roy, you rolled your hips again. And again. And again. Repetitive, miniscule movements that had your sleep shorts slowly dampening with your excitement.

Roy’s hand squeezing the skin between your t-shirt and shorts had you freezing. Slowly, with your face burning, you lifted your head; he was glancing at you with an amused smirk and quirked eyebrows.

“Someone need something?” he hummed.

You shook your head and swallowed nervously. “No,” you lied, scooting back.

His strong grip pulled you back. “I didn’t say you had to stop,” he murmured lightly, eyes returning to his book. “Keep goin’.”

When you didn’t keep going, too mortified to move, Roy let out a little sigh and put his book to the side. Without a word, he tugged you towards him, pulling you up until you were straddling his thigh. He held you down firmly, flexing in a way that had a small gasp leaving your lips.

“Go on then.”

Keeping one hand securely on your hip, Roy picked his book back up, returning to his reading. For a moment, you just stared at him, not quite sure what he wanted. But when he flexed again and bounced his leg, your embarrassment melted away. You brought your hands down to his chest to keep yourself steady and rocked on his thigh, a relieved sigh flying out of your mouth.

The corners of Roy’s lips tugged upwards, but his eyes remained on his book as you squirmed on him, your quiet moans filling the otherwise silent room. Your fingers trailed through his dark chest hair, anchoring you through the pleasure.

After a particularly loud whine, his eyes flickered to you. “Aren’t we a needy little thing,” he cooed with a chuckle. He nodded down at your sleep shorts. “Bet it’d feel better if you took those off.”

You were suddenly bashful again. “Roy…”

He raised his eyebrows. “Take ‘em off.”

Roy didn’t always get bossy like this- but fuck, you loved it when he did. Quickly, you lifted yourself off him and tugged down your sleep shorts and panties, bringing yourself back down in record time.

“O-oh,” you sighed, feeling the way he flexed again beneath you.

He gave your inner thigh a little pinch; you involuntarily bucked against his skin. “As you were, gorgeous,” he teased, returning to his book.

All hesitation disappeared as your bare cunt dragged against his burning skin. Your hands again found his chest, bracing yourself for the hungry pace you set. Your toes curled at the way his thick leg hair rubbed against you, adding an extra sensation. His thumb lazily traced circles on your hip, juxtaposed with the way you sloppily humped his leg.

His chuckle was dark, a little demeaning in the best way. “Look at you,” he purred, his gaze leaving his book. “Greedy thing, making this big mess on me.”

You looked down; indeed, as you rocked back and forth, you could see the glistening trail you left on his skin. Your hooded eyes found his again, an embarrassed smile on your lips despite your continued squirming.

“’m sorry,” you breathed with a pout, giving an extra little buck down against him, smearing your arousal on his skin.

Roy placed his book on the nightstand, finally giving you his full attention. “I’m not,” he chuckled, dark eyes on your grinding pussy. “So fucking sweet, seeing you needy for me like this.” The hand that had formerly been holding his book reached out to you, his thumb swiping up some of your slick. “Want some help?”

All you could do was nod as your back arched in anticipation. With his tongue between his teeth, Roy watched your cunt with some mix of fascination and adoration, bringing his thumb to your clit with that expert care you loved to receive. Your body jerked at his touch, your hips stuttering.

“What a pretty view,” he hummed. “Looks so fucking delicious.” He lifted his thumb to his mouth, chuckling at your pathetic whimper. “Tastes delicious too.”

“Roy,” you whined, giving him your pleading eyes, the ones usually reserved for asking nicely for his cock. Now, you were begging just for his thumb.

At least he was nice enough to give you want you wanted. “Needy, needy thing,” he teased, tutting at the way your body twitched when his thumb pressed harshly to your pulsating clit. The hand on your hip snaked under your shirt to begin groping your breast. “Have I been spoiling you too much? Hmm? Turned you into a bit of a brat?”

You didn’t bother answering; your release was too close. Roy seemed to understand, because his thumb rubbed merciless circles on your clit as he kneaded at your nipple with his other hand, biting his lip as he watched you.

“Is my pretty girl going to come on my leg?” he teased, giving your nipple a harsh pinch. “Are you that desperate for me, darling?”

“Fuck, Roy,” you panted, nails digging into his skin as you writhed on his leg,

Your legs began to quake as your pussy clenched around nothing, your arousal dripping down the sides of Roy’s thigh and onto his sheets. With a wicked smile, he bounced his leg beneath you, watching your eyes roll back as your orgasm overtook you.

“My gorgeous girl,” he groaned in a syrupy voice. “Make a mess on me, baby.”

So you did. You sloppily bucked against his soaked leg, crying out his name over and over in a desperate chant. Your own thighs were burning, but you kept rocking your hips back and forth, determined to leave Roy a sodden mess; it was his fault, after all, for having the most mouthwatering thighs in the world. As the last shockwaves of pleasure pulsated through your body, you dropped your weight onto Roy’s drenched leg, the harsh contact against your sore cunt sending one last shudder down your spine.

Roy chuckled and pulled you down against his wooly chest with a couple loving shushes. “Did that feel good?” he murmured. “Did you enjoy that?” Your weak nod was rewarded with a kiss to the top of your head. “Good.” His tender voice turned into a delicious growl. “You can rest for about five minutes, and then you’re going to help me make an even bigger mess.”

[devotioncrater]

when ted shakes the snowglobe and thinks of the people he's leaving behind, the first person he thinks of is trent

and it's not just that he's thinking about trent; he's thinking about the love letter trent wrote him, how ted loves it (and draws a moustached smile to make trent smile), but how ted can't possibly accept it [it being all about him]. and yet he sees trent in golden, sunflower, home.

literally SO fucking ill about this, thank you, anon.

i truly believe if dottie hadn't manipulated/triggered ted like she did the episode beforehand, something would have become of ted and trent. it's right there in what you described! there's always been this silently loud, gravitational pull between them.

trent is who ted thinks of first when he thinks of richmond, when he pours celebratory shots after victories, when he looks across a locker room while making a point in a speech.

ted is who trent thinks of first when he thinks of richmond, when he goes to follow his bliss, when he wants to live his life authentically.

it's truly bizarre and so so sad to see ted not be able to accept his positive role in other's lives. it's easier for him to lean into the role of Fixer with henry, to self-blame, to only view the negative role he (falsely!) believes he plays in his son's life. he cannot handle even the slightest notion of merging both aspects of his two separate lives (remember colin's ache? the concept could apply here too) because to do that requires acceptance of the self.

which! trent mentioned in the last diamond dogs meeting that it's not about change so much as acceptance of your past. ted was getting better through the season and he was starting to accept his past, until dottie steamrolled in during a vulnerable moment and fucking threw it back in his face. "your son misses you." + "fuck you."

every action ted has done in the series has been to not wind up like his father. he consciously chose to be kind and forgiving and optimistic when it would have been easier (and at times healthier) to lean into anger and hurt. his father's suicide has been the through-line this entire time. a ghost which haunts ted's worldview.

and dottie, unfortunately, played a major role in why ted only ever feels like he is loved/valued when something is needed from him. when he has to fix or care for or coach either someone or something. by dottie not working on herself, by not getting them both help after ted's dad's suicide, by not talking about it, she effectively Parentified a teenager and shut down communication at the same time. onscreen she only ever gives a shit about ted when she wants something. it's all her. her insecurities/guilt about how she parented ted become a knife wielded against him for how he untraditionally chooses to parent henry and for how he chooses to live his life.

dottie saw how much healthier ted is in richmond and could not see outside herself for more than two seconds to recognize it as a good thing. she instead felt threatened enough to effectively trigger ted into a catatonic low. to get him away from a support system and therapist who truly love him in a way she never could or can. to isolate him. nothing puts the fear of god into an abuser quite like a support system their victim can turn to. (why do you think rupert isolated rebecca?)

and trent? trent was a part of that support system. a divorced, gay man who wrote hundreds of pages about The Lasso Way, who's main inspiration was ted, who loved ted for all his flaws, who pushed ted with hard questions, who got all his references, who quit his whole career over ted, who at the end of the day just wanted ted to laugh with and like this book-love-letter he wrote for him. just wanted ted to recognize and accept that Coach Ted Lasso From America is a good man.

but ted? freshly triggered, catatonic depressive ted? cannot accept this reality. because to do so would mean acknowledgement of the silently loud, gravitational pull they have towards each other, and what that means, and how happy that has made him feel, and how trent would openly love him unconditionally if ted just allowed it. nothing to fix, nothing to take care of.

it goes against all this fucked conditioning ted's grown up with, where he's been triggered back to. beyond the role of Fixer, beyond his inability to accept help/love, beyond even his conditioned sexuality. it directly challenges the reality of a lonely kid who was often forgotten about by his parents in places. a lonely kid who other kids often underestimated and didn't care to ask questions about, to get to know. at sixteen, that same lonely kid walked in on his father's suicide and then had to walk through the grief alone, traumatized out his mind with no healthy way of expressing it. all the while wondering if he was to blame.

that is who ted regressed back into.

and it isn't until ted is back in that familiar box that he dares dream about trent again. because hey, that's all it was between them, right? a nice fantasy. it wasn't a reality. nah, not a chance. because In Real Life Ted Lasso Does Not Deserve That Level Of Support Or Love.

[itsclydebitches]

When Trent asks about writing the book and everyone is frantically getting Ted to say no literally behind Trent's back, do you think Trent knew what they were doing?

I do! On both a textual and a "realistic" level.

Meaning, if this were an irl scenario their reactions would be pretty hard to miss. Not only are Rebecca, Higgins, and Keeley saying 'No' with gestures grand enough to draw any eye, but Ted keeps shooting them very obvious "I'm uncomfortable with what they're doing over there" looks. As much as the Tedependent lizard part of my brain likes to read Trent's stare in this moment as heart eyes and heart eyes alone—why would he want to look at anything other than Ted??—I think, under the circumstances, it reads more like him deliberately staring to give Ted as much agency as he can in the moment. If Trent catches the others in their lies + insulting "Get him out of here" display, that puts him in the position of the victim, for lack of a better word. Ted then feels super guilty and he says "Yes" to Trent as a way to try and smooth things over. Trent doesn't want that. He wants to be here because Ted wants him here and though he can't control the others potentially influencing him, he can control his own reaction to the events: keep calm, open expression, non-judgmental, don't beg for it... just let Ted decide on his own.

However, to get back to the point about realistic scenarios, this is a comedy-drama where the characters often don't engage in realistic reactions. Emotions and responses are often deliberately exaggerated for the sake of comedic effect, so they definitely could have made Trent an Oblivious™ character who somehow misses the three people losing their minds right beside him and isn't that funny to watch? But I personally don't think Trent is that character. The show has never shied away from acknowledging what an ass he's been (see: his entire relationship with Roy) and Trent is more than aware of that reputation. He's cultivated it. There's really no version of these circumstances in which a very intelligent, emotionally aware Trent Crimm goes, "Hmm. I'm going to try and write a book about Richmond, the team made up of footballers who have avoided and cursed me out for years, a gaffer I threw to the proverbial wolves, and an owner who once hired me BECAUSE she knew I tear people to shreds in print. Besides, everyone loves having the press dog their steps for a season and then judge them in a permanent medium! Everyone's gonna be thrilled about this offer." Uh huh. Trent knows. He's not stupid. He's actually lucky that Rebecca went the polite route and passed the responsibility onto Ted Forgiveness Lasso. Ted's superhuman optimism was the very opening Trent needed.

Plus, I think Trent's knowledge of how he's really being received is shown throughout his first few weeks there. It's telling that Trent engages in a reversal of what's just been done to him, wherein he calls Rebecca out on why she really wants Zava: he can tell when she's lying and he knows when others in the room—this time Keeley, Higgins, and Ted—are trying to sway someone. Trent is already nervous when he walks into the changing room (you can see his fingers fluttering in his pocket) and he's a little shocked, but not surprised when Roy puts a ban on anyone speaking to him. We have that running joke of people going, "Don't put that in the book," the first instance of which is in Rebecca's office right after he's hired, yet again, there's no surprise along the lines of, "You're concerned about what I'm including? This is making you nervous, Rebecca? Why? I thought you wanted me here and the only thing keeping you from saying yes on the spot was respect for Ted and a belief that he should have the final call? 🤔" This girl was under NO delusions about how everyone was really receiving him. This is the face of a man who is very deliberately NOT looking behind him.

[polikszena]

Just because I had the idea of writing something Easter-related today, here, have AFC Richmond players painting eggs for charity:

Eggs and Flowers

When Trent Crimm walked into the press room of AFC Richmond’s headquarters, he experienced something he had never witnessed there before: silence. The entire team was sitting around the table on the stage, all of them so immersed in their work that none of them spoke a single word which was extremely rare with this amount of young men being together in the same room. For a moment Trent thought they were giving him the silent treatment again, just like during his first days with the team, but then he saw the painting kits in front of them.

“Hi there, Trent,” Ted Lasso flashed a smile at the former reporter and got up from his chair to shake his hand, but since all his fingers had some paint on, in the end he decided not to. “Do you want to join us?”

“Is this a seasonal group therapy?” Trent asked, noticing the eggs on the table.

“Kind of,” Ted said with a little laugh, “disguised as a charity egg painting. They will sell these later to raise some funds to the children in need. Come on, grab a brush and take a seat!”

An apologetic smile touched the ex-journalist’s lips and he shook his head.

“I’d rather just observe first,” he said.

“As you wish,” Ted nodded, then sat back down to finish the egg he was working on.

Trent’s gaze followed the mustached man and stopped at the egg he had painted with AFC Richmond’s colours, then he looked around the table. Next to the team’s manager was Coach Beard carefully sprinkling paint on his egg that was already coloured purple. Next to him there was Sam Obisanya who was happily showing him his egg that was painted like a fish bowl with a goldfish inside, and then Dani Rojas who decorated his with ethnographic patterns, then Jan Maas who painted his orange, and Isaac McAdoo painting Santa Claus on his egg.

“That way it doubles as a Christmas ornament,” he explained, noticing Trent’s brows rising. “Genius. Oh, look, that’s a cute bunny,” he said, turning to Colin Hughes who was coloring the rabbit white.

Next to Colin, there was Richard Montlaur who was painting a French flag on his egg while Thierry Zoreaux, well, Van Damme was drawing a football’s pattern on the egg, although it was a struggle since the shapes were different. Moe Bumbercatch was painting a little scarf on his egg, and even Will the kitman was there, idly drawing flowers on his.

“Fuck!” At the other end of the table, Roy Kent burst out, holding a broken egg in his hand trembling with anger. He threw it away, got up from his chair and stormed out of the room. Sitting next to him, Jamie Tartt pressed his lips together to hold back his laughter.

“He just needs some fresh air,” Ted said, seeing Trent looking at the door where Roy left. “It was his third egg.”

“Fourth,” Jamie said.

“He’ll get better,” Ted assured him.

“He already made one,” Leslie Higgins said, gesturing towards a side table where the already finished eggs were drying. He was adding the last strokes to a blue one with a little greyhound on it.

“The black one,” Richard said.

“I believe it’s dark heather charcoal,” Trent said, walking closer to the side table, with his eyes on an dark-coloured egg with zero patterns.

Glancing at the finished works of the players, Trent spotted a few with Zava’s name and number written on them with different colours.

“Those were made by Zava,” Ted told him.

“Except for the one with glitter,” Dani Rojas said. “That’s mine.”

Trent also saw an egg with the yellow ‘BELIEVE’ sign like the one they had in the locker room, wondering who could have made that one. Whoever did, he drew a smile on the former reporter’s face.

“So, Trent, are you joining us?” Ted asked. “We still have lots of eggs.”

“We have some pattern suggestions if you need it,” Higgins said, ponting at some printed examples in the middle.

“Why not?” he shrugged his shoulders, and taking off his blazer, he sat down to an empty chair then rolled up the sleeves of his gray shirt.

Silence fell onto the press room as the team members returned to their work, until someone started humming. It seemed to be an involuntary action as everyone was so focused on painting that they didn’t even notice someone was doing it. Trent couldn’t tell who it was; it could be anybody. However, no-one said a word about it, no-one tried to stop it. Instead, the others began to join in and Trent could finally recognise the song: it was Flowers by Miley Cyrus; he had heard it from his daughter several times.

It was Sam who started singing it and the rest of the team continued:

“I can buy myself flowers

Write my name in the sand

Talk to myself for hours

Say things you don’t understand

I can take myself dancing

And I can hold my own hand

Yeah, I can love me better than you can.”

[my-soupy-brain]

tempted to rub Ted’s feet so the man can relax for once

I've said it before and I say it again, this man deserves to be pampered. And since he's never been pampered before, your touch and love absolutely makes the man melt. Let's gooo!

---

Relationship: Ted Lasso x reader

Warnings: None, all comfort

---

Ted was home on the couch with a bottle of beer when you walked in the door.

His hair was mussed, his eyes tired, as he stared at the TV.

"Babe?" you ask, taking off your coat. "You OK?"

Ted sighs, barely turns his head to look at you.

"Bad day."

His optimism and bright eyes are missing entirely. Something happened. You move cautiously to the couch on the other end.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Ted tilts his head as if he's thinking about it.

"I don't know if I'm deliverin' what I need to for this team," he says, twisting the neck of the beer bottle between his fingers. "Boss wants a win, and while I can see the boys gettin' better, I can't seem to get them above a draw."

You sigh and reach over to touch his thigh.

"I just feel like I'm failin' everybody lately," he murmurs, and the thought that Ted feels like he's failing at all is enough to make you cry.

"C'mere, gimme those piggies," you say, encouraging his legs up so he can lay back and relax.

"Why?"

"Because. I'm gonna rub those feet and we're gonna talk this out. Lay it all on me, babe. I'm all ears."

He smiles a little, setting his beer bottle down on the end table next to him, bringing his feet into your lap where you strip off the socks.

Your fingers and thumbs work tight circles in his arch, on the balls of his feet, his heels, his ankles. He sighs and smiles a little more.

"First of all, Teddy, you aren't failin' a damn soul," you start, concentrating on one foot at a time.

"You found this team argumentative, uncommunicative, and mediocre at best when you got here," you add. "And despite the fact they're not absolutely trouncing the competition, they are playing better together. They have comradery they didn't have before."

He nods, letting his body relax into the cushions while your hands work over his feet.

"And second, Rebecca is a strong, independent woman with a vengeance against Rupert. And you know why she brought you on board. While she's not using you as a pawn, she's still thirsty for blood," you continue, switching feet now. "I'm sure she wants a win, but deep down, she knows that's not what you're about. And eventually, she'll let this Rupert crap go."

Ted nods.

"I don't know about that. I mean, maybe I'm just not good at this," he says.

"Nonsense, hush that butt," you reply, lobbying his own words back at him, making him giggle.

"I'm serious. You gave Nate a chance to coach, and he brought skills to the team you didn't know were there. Rebecca certainly didn't know. You've got Roy and Beard, and they've got you: The nucleus of it all..."

"Yeah, European football may not have been where you saw your life going, but you're here for now and you're bringing the magic with you."

He smiles, reaching up to stop your hands and lace his fingers with yours.

"Darlin'...I can't tell ya...how nice it is to have someone who's listenin'," he says, almost with tears in his eyes.

You smile and squeeze his hand.

"You deserve to be heard. And you deserve to relax. And you deserve to be pampered, and as God is my witness, I will drag you to a spa one of these days to show you what it's all about..."

He grins at this, too, nodding. You pick up the remote.

"How about a movie to take the stress off? Or I could take you to the bedroom and work on your back with these magic hands," you joke, holding up your fingers and wiggling them. Ted chuckles.

"I'll never turn down being in bed with you," he says with a low drawl, standing up and holding his hands out. "C'mon. Your turn."

---

I love the idea of actually LISTENING to Ted and helping him through his problems. I know Beard tries but he really needs someone to prop him up and help him realize how valuable he is. Thanks for this prompt, friend. I really enjoyed it.

Also, added a little link to my Spa Day fic that ties perfectly to this.

[cevans-is-classic]

Ted Lasso x Plus Size!Reader

18 plus only, please

Warnings: Language, terrible puns, me refusing to not be in love with this man. All of it honestly.

My Masterlist, dears.

Jason and Ted

"If someone knocks on the bathroom door how do you respond?" Higgins twists his tie between his hands, his forehead covered in sweat, chest rising and plunging as he takes in quick breaths. 

Everyone in the office turns their attention towards the man, Ted's mouth opening to respond only to be interrupted by the force that was you. 

"I'm not sure about here," His eyes drawn to you, catching the edge of your smile as you leaned against the door, arms crossed, one hand moving as you talked, "But in the United States we say, 'come in.' We don't like to be lonely." Laughter burst from his chest. 

Higgins laughed along as well; Beard seemed to contemplate your answer. He couldn't see what Roy was doing, but his mind supplied him with a frown and scrunched eyebrows. The thoughts added to the laughter — your smile glowing from their reaction. 

"Look in and see a neighbor. It's the hospitality in us." Ted joked back your eyes sparking at his retort. 

"What pondered that question?" Ted aimed his attention back towards Higgins who sputtered, twisting his tie again as his cheeks flush a deep red. 

"Almost made a friend, but it went to shit?" Roy cracked. The tension building around Higgins dissolved as the group erupted into shouts in applause at the surly coach who huffed in return, "Oi, fuck off, you Americans aren't the only ones with quick wit. Shit way of living."

That set the three said Americans off. Ted and Beard mused back and forth about things back home that were questionable, ‌while Roy and Higgins seemed to wonder whether to believe what they said.

You kept checking your watch, looking back up at them anytime the conversations lulled. Ted didn't care that most of what they’d roused was bull — the way you talked with your whole body made it worth it. He could watch you for hours, hands moving, smile shining, the way your chest shook as you laughed. 

He couldn't look away from you. 

"Well fellas," You pushed off the door, "I've got to get back upstairs, but if you're still running training once Keeley and I finish, I'll come hang about." 

Higgins waved goodbye, drawing Beard into a conversation. Roy leaning in with a grunt, leaving Ted to wiggle his fingers at your departing figure.

"We'll stretch the drills just for you, darlin'!" He's not sure if you heard him call after you.

Your steps echoed down the hall — Ted's eyes tracking the swing of your hips. He wished you'd be able to stick around and talk more, spend some time with him that didn't involve questions about team branding or players' schedules. 

He bit the inside of his cheek when you disappeared from sight. Seeing you leave his office made his chest tight, but watching you walk away helped, he countered. 

-

Every Thursday at two p.m — barring an away game — you showed up at the Clubhouse with lunch in hand files for Rebecca to look over before you visit Ted and the team and watch training until you’re meant back at the office. 

Ted lives for Thursdays, wears his best sneakers on Thursdays and always — always — has a good cup of Joe with your name on it. 

You’d never favored tea since moving to Europe. Refused to ruin the idea of it here by dumping the ‌amount of sugar you needed into it. 

Ted can appreciate that. 

He appreciated all the small things the two of you seemed to share. You loved making people laugh, your own smile growing brighter anytime someone thanked you for making their day better. If you had to choose between burgers and pizza, you’d ‌combine the both and not a single person on earth could make you watch a movie with a dying dog in it. 

No matter how small or superficial the reason seemed, you ‌make others feel included, wanted to bring a smile to someone, if only for a moment. 

Ted’s honest opinion you were sweeter than a honeysuckle and the ‌type of person someone would wake up early for. 

When Thursday came around, he felt like he’d won the lottery without buying a ticket. 

He loved Thursdays. 

“Hey Lasso, how’s the goods?” The locker room was empty, the team having filed out to the pitch with Beard and Roy while Ted went over paperwork, writing in updated plays and reviewing the physical exams from the week before. 

Ted smiled at your voice, seeing you out of the corner of his eye, hoping you could see the quick smile he wore as he finished up the report he was reading. 

“A few days expired, but still good and cookin’.” With a scrawling signature, the coach leaned back in his chair and took you in. 

Which made him lose his balance and end up flat on his back, ears ringing from the collision with the floor. 

“Oh my God!” There was a shuffle, papers being tossed and a chair being shoved aside before you appeared in his line of sight, brows pinched together in worry. 

You looked far too beautiful to be real. 

“Wow.” Ted swore he knew how to breathe. 

Your brows bunched together more, mouth opening in a worried O, but all he could focus on was the light above your head. It haloed you like an angel. The white dress you wore resembles the angelic image you presented to him. Ted always thought you looked amazing — from ripped jeans that seemed a tad too tight, over worn hoodies with holes in the sleeves and jerseys bought last minute before a game to the smart, chic and professional dressings you wear around the club. He’d swore you could walk in wearing a burlap sack with an aluminum hat and he couldn’t look away. 

Right now though- 

“Ted, hey, are you okay? Ted? Coach? Come on, answer me-” You were brushing hair off his forehead, fingers sliding through his hair to touch at the base of his skull and up. Your fingers left tingling sensations behind as you felt around his head, poking and prodding until you seemed to deem him unscathed. 

Ted smiled. “Wasn’t expecting fall to come early, huh?” 

You frowned, leaning back to let him move, shifting out of the chair until he could stand up and readjust his seat. (He’d never say it out loud but his back hurt like the Dickens.) 

“Are you okay?” Your crossed arms fluttered your dress, the skirt moving around your legs drawing his eyes down then back up, landing on the flare of your nostrils and quirk of your lips. 

He was about eighty percent sure he was in love with you. 

Ted would say ninety, but ‌he — might — have a concussion and didn’t want to assume.

Maybe he should say something about the low headache forming behind his eyes. You’d, probably, run your fingers through his hair again — the light colored polish would look amazing if he held your hand. He’d be able to kiss each finger, bringing them to his lips one by one until he had you smiling and leaning in for- 

“Ted. You’re staring at me, again-.” 

He sputtered, cheeks flushing as he shot his gaze towards the floor. “What? No! I wasn’t staring - I- I was looking at something behind you!” What? 

Your feet came into view, white flats shining under the office lights, and he wondered if your toes matched your nails. 

“Honey, you hit your head hard. Are you sure you’re okay?” He closed his eyes when you ran your fingers through his hair again. When you touched the tender spot above the base of his skull, he flinched. Reaching up to stop your hand, he tangled his fingers with yours. 

Both of you froze. 

Ted looked up to see your cheeks painted pink, eyes wide as the two of you watched the other. 

“Bit tender.” He spoke low. 

You nodded, “Maybe some ice will help-” He tightened his hold when you pulled away. 

“Ted-“ 

“Will you go out with me?” 

This time you stared. Wide eyes blinking, your mouth opening and closing on words that never left your lips — Ted swore your cheeks reddened further, but you ducked your head before he could be certain. 

“I-” You swallowed, “You hit your head — the doctor should look you over-“

He saw the twitchy way you tugged away, eyes flitting from him to the floor and back until you freed your hand from his and had stumbled away from the desk, “I’ll go get him.” 

“Sugar, wait.” Ted grabbed your hand, the sudden forward movement making his head spin for a moment. He might have a concussion — this was more important. 

“Ted, you should-” 

“I’ve wanted to ask that for almost a year, I swear. I’d been reeling in the courage bit by bit and I think falling for you literally gave me the fish I needed.” 

You blinked again, slower this time, eyes going back to normal as you looked him over. Up, down, then back up to hold his stare, and Ted watched as a breathtaking smile broke out. 

He could collapse right now from head trauma and smile the entire way down. 

“You mean it?” 

“I’m deadly serious about fishing, sugar.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping back into his space to reach for the back of his head again, “I’ve wanted to ask you for a long while too — wasn’t sure I’d ever gather the courage though.” You paused, “Maybe we should get your head looked at first. In case there was damage — you're chatterer than this.” 

Ted laugher, using the moment to tilt forward. “Maybe a kiss would help?” 

A finger into the sore part of his head had him hissing, “Doctor first, Lasso, then we can add funny business.” 

Concussion or not, he loved Thursdays.

To the poor anon who requested this long ago --- I hope you find it and enjoy it! I had an unpleasant episode yesterday and as I was resting the inspiration hit me all at once.

I love y'all and hope you all have an amazing weekend

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 3x10 Thoughts

I intended to write this last week, but I’ve been really busy. But 3x10 was a real joy, so I do want to capture something about it, so I’m just gonna try to quickly hit the highlights and any of it sounds similar to stuff I said in discord, so be it. 🙂

Rebecca spit tea in Ted’s face! She was planning it! He liked it! I loved it!

OK but really, everything about that moment…Rebecca reclaiming the Hockney, and the way it no longer signifies the loss of her marriage (and I think it’s so interesting that Rebecca says in 1x1 that she and Rupert bought it together on their fifth anniversary, but in this episode Rupert asks her about the Hockney “he” bought for “her”), and now that it’s back on the wall the drawing is about football again, and she’s wearing a flowy pink dress reminiscent of what she wore on the boat in Amsterdam but this time it’s something she would have picked out and purchased herself that suits her perfectly, and the Hockney scene blends so perfectly into her telling Ted that her reasons for wanting to win. Exchanging victory plans followed by a quick but thorough dousing of liquid via spitting ritual…it was so 1x10 of them. 

@talldecafcappuccino said something about Nate facing some of his worst fears (as articulated at the team movie night in s1) in this episode—he is unemployed, and he makes a return (albeit temporary) to his parents’ house—and that really stuck with me. That moment when he reminds his dad that he literally told him he hated the sound of Nate playing violin is a remember-forever moment for me. Some of the parents on this show are true villains, but I think it’s as important if not more important to depict the very real pain that comes from that mismatch between thought and speech, the damage that can be done bit by bit even when intentions are good, even when a parent genuinely desires good things for their child. I’m doing a terrible job articulating it, but I appreciated the small-yet-ultra-concentrated scale of all the Nate moments very much. 

Speaking of the scale of things, the grand yet quiet gesture of Nate getting Rene from the sewers to let him into the club (why are sewers so important to this show?) to fix up the locker room for Will…the sprig of lavender…the simple heartfelt apology…the intentional use of “Wonder Kid." Loved it. Completely loved it. I’m really looking forward to what’s going to happen with Nate and Ted talk, but it was completely essential that he reaches out to Will first, and that it’s an action-oriented apology that is specifically about the nature of a kitman’s work. 

Speaking again of the scale of things: Rebecca’s speech to the other potential Akufo League owners. I’m very glad it was a monologue and not a soliloquy. In-scene, non-fourth-wall-breaking speeches are always a tiny bit bigger than what my personal sensibilities w/r/t secondhand embarrassment would prefer. But they are essential to Ted Lasso. And I think Rebecca’s speech absolutely had to be scaled big—she literally made herself bigger right beforehand, in this lovely moment of honoring her child self and connecting to the silliness of the ritual and the absurdities of childhood and adulthood. And it had to be big because it was in front of Rupert, who has literally interrupted her mid-speech before, stealing all the thunder for himself. I really appreciated that Rupert becomes human before our very eyes, and that Rebecca is able to genuinely draw from the things that made her love him in the first place, while there is nothing unclear about how bleak and miserable and awful Rupert is. He fucking tries to kiss her after the cathartic moment with the speech and the food tantrum, and her rejection is so clear and strong. I can’t think of a better way to almost purely visually illustrate (although the words are important, Rebecca's face says it all) what it means for her to be free of the hold he had over her for so many years.

I am soooo excited that we (re)met Roy’s sister and she really is that doctor from the A&E and she’s awesome and clearly a very good and fun mom and she’s having such a good time teasing Roy out of love which is basically the adult version of the incredibly important role Phoebe plays in his life. Also, Elodie Blomfield is so good as Phoebe. The moment when she figures out the “Roy Kunt” kit is so great. And everything about Jamie being there and his familiarity with the family!?! 

Roy and Keeley! Roy’s tiny terrible handwriting! I like that we didn’t get the big moment of Roy and Keeley kissing and reconnecting to each other, and I also like that we didn’t get the moment of Nate resigning from his job. In both stories, we got the most important gestures, the most important decisions that led up to these moments and came after these moments, and considering the show needed to go big for Rebecca’s speech I think it’s essential to have a little restraint elsewhere.

Barbara! Everything with the snow globe reimbursements! Ahhhhhhhh! Barbara is the coolest and I would pay the big bucks to hear Katy Wix talk (in a good thoughtful environment obviously) about her autism and her acting choices when playing Barbara because her timings are so incredible and so hilarious and she’s built a side character into someone who fully enriches the overall story and I assume it’s all connected but I’d love to hear about this role straight from the source. I was already such a Katy Wix fan from Taskmaster and reading some of her writing online, and she was just perfection in this episode. 

Beard. Oh God. Beard. What are you doing. His grudge against Nate and the kind of willful immaturity of his character in this stage of his relationship with Jane. Other than the day out with Henry in 3x8, when is the last time Beard was critical and compassionate with anyone in his life? Ted looks so bummed about that axe-throwing offer. I think Beard had to know deep down that Ted and Roy were never in a million years going to be saying yes to this invitation; it’s not that Jane would want them there. I think 3x11 and 3x12 are going to have a lot of Ted-and-Beard by necessity and I’m basically on pins and needles.

I am nervous about many things for the rest of this season, not because I think they’ll be handled badly in the show but because I can see so many different possibilities (for the truth bomb, for all the moms, for what Rebecca understands about her life today and what it could be, same for Ted, same for Beard, because I feel like Ted has to leave in some way but something’s telling me it’s not as simple as leaving or not leaving) and it’s making me feel insane. But 3x10 was a wonderful time and the lavender sprig and the spitting hit that perfect sweet spot of callbacks that propel the narrative forward and I’m grateful to have had it. 

[vole-mon-amour]

3x10, a mix of everything, part 2.

Rebecca is Keeley's best friend. and Jack is a fucking liar. what the hell is going on this season? especially with Keeley's plotline?

Roy & Keeley holding hands and Jamie walking in the room? hello?

on the other point, Keeley deserves better than constantly pushing people around her on their way to growth. first Jamie (which, fine, it was necessary and he did all the work by himself and came out beautifully). then Roy (that I presume will realise his mistake and will become better and such). still, can Keeley finally have some happiness and sense of confidence and self-worth that doesn't depend on her love life and personal relationships?

people keep thinking about Jamie being the matchmaker for ot3, but to me rn it looks like it's gonna be Keeley. and i'm not sure if I like that they're using a woman to do that.

This is nice. I like this. Something about Keeley being Richmond's football team best friend and finally making it to Mae (while Ted and Beard been visiting her place since the day they arrived to UK).

Red Right hand while Roy walks in the building? I have Peaky Blinders flashbacks. an interesting use of that song, for sure.

I want what Ted and Beard have.

same, Trent, same. maybe this is gonna be Roy's colorful awakening era.

somebody save them.

it's not the first time we see Isaac with an earring, but we don't label him bisexual the way we do with Jamie. it's the attitude, really.

this is not even funny. how are they not supposed to be romantic? how? i don't even ship them you just rub this under my nose. platonic after the matchbook and supposed to be a mother? what IS this? i seriously have questions to the writers. can they make up their mind? bc one is gives to her by an ex lover and one is given to her by, according to writers, her brother from another mother. all i keep seeing is how they keep connecting Ted and Rebecca and not in a platonic way. there's no romantic chemistry between them for me, especially this season, but hello???? WHAT? IS? THIS? what are they trying to achieve?

you tell them.

rainbow <3

oh, don't start with that, as if it sends Roy on some righteous path back to Keeley. "hope it didn't cost too much" i'm so tired of that plotline.

Keeley is such a sweetheart and deserves so much better.

this is so bad. i feel for Rebecca.

oh, fuck off. not a good look is a room full of rich men that can make an influence but choose not to. even decide to charge more. and if we're talking politics for some reason, have you also seen other nations' government? even the mess that happens in UK, where you live? seriously, fuck off and take P*tin with you, maybe then it'll start looking better.

she learned that from Trent & you can't convince me otherwise. i LOVE the parallel. QUEEN.

POV: you're an only woman in the room of white rich old cis men and a black one. ew.

she gets it now. the power of Ted Lasso and Coach Beard.

i'm not sure what they're doing there with Rupert. redemption arc through Rebecca's words? why? forgiveness? also why? Rupert and Rebecca laughing together? what is going onnn??? AND then Rebecca hanging back Hockney aka the drawing Rupert gifted her? i'm confused.

"we just borrow them for a while" hello?? they keep connecting Rebecca to Ted???

i was screaming a lot of NO's as Rupert went for a kiss. I'm glad Rebecca stopped it. i was seriously scared for that moment. what a shitty person he is. you can never have that wonderful woman again. suffer and die in suffering, bitch.

no way Keeley has a glass wall in her bathroom???? also, what's with both of her exes coming to her house instead of calling, texting and facing her face to face? why ot3 if not ot3?

*peels my face off with skin and muscle* if you're not adding Jamie to that, I swear to the Outsider—

hell yeah <3

you suuuure?

[sideboot]

ted lasso ot3 reality tv au

at first this was because i watched game changer and i was thinking of how differently things would have gone for jamie if he was on an ethical independent small production game show. 

ted would make an excellent sam reich style host btw.  he would also make a horrible bachelor.  freshly divorced and hurtling himself forward like an insane person.  but also imagine him having to sa no to that many people he would hate it and suffer so much.

rebecca is the executive producer either taking over the show and trying to sabotage it or starting her own to rival rupert.

jamie was either recently injured out of playing football or just never went pro, he’s trying to launch a reality tv career, sometimes if you’re a charming enough suitor you get your own season.  he wants to be single right now so availability is part of his image, otherwise he might try and start things up when he realizes his ex Keeley Jones is working on the production.  But since he won’t, he can’t help but notice the immediate attraction between her and his fellow contestant

Roy Kent would never ever willingly participate in a reality tv show, except this was a gift from the yoga mums who entered him in secret and are invasibvely worried about his lack of love life.  unable to politely turn down the gift, his plan is to make monosyllabic grunts at the camera until they send him home.

unfortunately, he gets paired with jamie for interviews.  all i know from reality tv comes from dropout tv, great british bake off, and one video essay, but this is in the era when there are like way too many contestants and so they double them up to save time. 

Jamie loves a challenge, and he immediately notices that Roy is kind of into Keeley.  So he’s like two for one, I show casting directors I can have enough charisma to have chemistry with literally anyone, to the point I can draw out good content from a guy who’s trying to have the personality of a rock, and I can do a nice thing for Keeley.  So he starts flirting with Roy and sitting in his lap but of course it’s all for the plan :)) no feelings here :)))

Keeley meanwhile is noticing the two have chemistry, and also that standing next to Jamie is one of the only circumstances under which Roy talks, and so starts pairing up together.  If Ted’s the bachelor, she’s hoping to recreate that moment from the Vietnamese Bachelor where two of the women paired up with each other.  If Roy and Jamie get together, it will not only be good television, it will be two freebies that Ted doesn’t have to turn down or feel bad.

Meanwhile Roy is suffering. The cameras are so much.  The two hot people who keep flirting with him are so much.  Roy is in hell and when he gets back the ladies at yoga group he better be drinking for free for the next year.

[jomiddlemarch]

But ah! united, what reverse we have!

“I fucking told you,” Joel muttered, at least having the manners to lower his voice so that only Grace could make him out. She wasn’t sure if he was trying to set an example for Ellie or if he still thought he could maybe get out of it. “I told you I didn’t want to do this—”

“It’s one night. Just one night,” Grace hissed back. She sounded like her own mother and she looked down to make sure she wasn’t wearing a floral-print blouse and elastic waistband pants in a coordinating color.

“It’s one night too many,” Joel said, then shrugged and leaned back against the couch, relaxed and gorgeous like he was in some photo shoot from Before. Grace, motivated by a number of reasons, not all of them equally admirable, but come on, look at the man! decided to throw him a bone and also ignored dead-Lauren cackling about how it wasn’t Grace with the bone to be thrown.

“Don’t you like to win?” Grace asked.

“Jesus, I’m trying to care, but it’s hard,” Joel said.

“You do this, I’ll meet you in the pantry. I’ll make it worth your while,” she said. She nodded and raised an eyebrow so there’d be no mistaking her meaning. She wasn’t in her mother’s usual ensemble, but her own cords and dark sweater weren’t exactly enticing.

“Fine. But you know, there’s no coming back from this,” he said. She decided to hope he meant whatever she’d obliquely promised for the pantry. He stood up, giving her a positively delightful view of his ass in his Levis, and called over to Ted.

“I’ll be on Beard’s team. Grace’ll stay with you and Ronnie and Phyllis.”

“Ain’t that nice, Sporty Spice! I always think pitting two folks who know each other real well makes for a better game,” Ted said. As usual, his mustache was a regular barometer of his mood and Grace could see he was indeed, as he was likely to say, pleased as punch, Captain Crunch.

Thus commenced the first of Ted Lasso’s famous Jackson Pictionary/Charades for the Graphically Impaired Open-to-All Game nights, during which Ted at one point drew a loopy squiggle and Joel guessed, “It’s a lasso.” The fact that Grace and Joel sequentially disappeared for a solid sixteen minutes ostensibly in search of something to go with Beard’s seven-layer dip and returned with a bag of pinto beans (Grace) and dried apple slices (Joel) was wisely not remarked on by anyone. Nor was the state of their untucked shirts, Joel’s missing socks, Grace’s crooked ponytail, or the hickey visible at the base of Joel’s throat. Beard’s team won, Ted declared he couldn’t remember a more pleasant evening nor more congenial company, though the artistic ability on display was widely variable, and Grace discovered that in the right circumstances, her competitive streak and Joel’s evidently translatable and vast experience drawing building plans could result in seven mind-blowing minutes in Heaven. Twice. With two minutes to spare.

Written for @pedrostories​ 1K celebration and to cheer up @tessa-quayle​ who has had a Very Long Week Indeed.

[boasamishipper]

I posted 17,784 times in 2022

653 posts created (4%)

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I tagged 8,579 of my posts in 2022

#top gun: maverick - 843 posts

#ted lasso - 401 posts

#top gun - 392 posts

#911 ls - 340 posts

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Longest Tag: 134 characters

#i got a whole influx of asks the last couple days and i want you to know i’m not ignoring any of you i’ve just been on vacation ❤️❤️❤️

I sent 2 gifts in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

ice and mav still keeping in touch after all these years. ice and mav keeping in touch to the point where even penny knows how important they are to each other. ice bailing mav out of trouble for thirty plus years. ice sending mav to topgun because mav believes in getting everyone home safe above all else and understands the importance of never leaving your wingman and ice knowing that that is integral to the success of the mission. mav and sarah being on such friendly terms with one another. the wingman hug. how’s my wingman. it’s time to let go. there’s still time. the wingman hug 2.0. the hand touch. who’s the better pilot, me or you? we had a good moment. let’s not ruin it. ice knowing exactly what mav needs to hear. ice never making mav feel bad for still being a captain. mav knowing that ice knows exactly what he needs to hear, that ice is right, that ice has mav’s best interest (and the interests of the kids) at heart, and mav taking his best friend’s advice to heart in turn, which leads to the success of the mission. the wingman hug. THE WINGMAN HUG.

1,994 notes - Posted May 25, 2022

#4

Spanish Jackie after meeting Jim again:

2,089 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

#3

[image description: the ‘i can excuse racism’ meme from the television show community, edited to reflect what happened at the oscars. in the upper half, the blonde white woman says, i can excuse the academy rewarding known predators but i draw the line at will smith slapping chris rock after chris insulted his wife. in the lower half, the black woman says, you can excuse the academy rewarding known predators?! end id.]

2,189 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#2

mav keeping all those pictures of bradley and also goose and carole over the years. mav having flashbacks after bradley played great balls of fire on the piano at penny’s bar. mav canonically being bradley’s adopted father until he pulled his academy app. mav taking the blame because he'd rather bradley resent him for the rest of his life than carole. mav desperately not wanting to lose bradley like he did goose. mav and bradley flying that f-14 together. mav and bradley BOTH saying (variations of) talk to me, goose. mav and bradley still loving goose so fucking much. mav and bradley encouraging each other. mav and bradley saving each other’s lives and refusing to apologize for it or leave each other. mav and bradley repairing their relationship. Mav And Bradley.

3,198 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

prince charles if you’re reading this there will never be a funnier time to die than right now

59,629 notes - Posted September 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[believemetheodore]

Northern Attitude pt. 5 (complete)

Ted Lasso x Rebecca Welton

Divorce is hard. it doesn't matter if you're the one who got left, or you're the one doing the leaving. When an unexpected blizzard puts a dangerous twist in Ted's hiking adventures he's rescued by an axe-wielding, lumber-chopping, blonde angel. Oh, and there's only one bed.

Warnings: divorce mentions, mentions of Ted's dad, mentions of Rebecca's dad, implied sex, let me know if you want me to add anything.

Fic navigation

Ted works on instinct more than thought with Rebecca. He feels free as they fall into bed together again. He can't say he's entirely sure about what he's doing, but he's positive that if this is the last time he gets to hold her like this he's going to remember it. Determined to live this moment in such a way that it won't ever feel like a loss. 

A part of him whispers at the back of his mind, scratching at the door and hoping to squirm its way into his conscious mind. A fear of loss, a fear of being too much. He’s terrified by how much he wants her.

Whatever happens, he won't allow regret or grief to touch it; he won’t let his fears taint this memory. He’s moving forward. He’s doing better. For himself-- for Rebecca too. She deserves better than she’s been given. She deserves, attention, support, love, and affection undivided and without conditions; and if this slice of time is all he has to give her that? He’ll be damned if she receives anything less. 

In the morning they aren't much more than a tangle of limbs. His mind is awake but his body is tired and entirely comfortable being held hostage by Rebecca's arms and legs. Ted’s eyes follow the paths of Raindrops sliding down the window, silently refereeing races between them. He keeps score of their wins and losses, drawing invisible tally marks across the skin of her back. She burrows further, under the covers, and impossibly closer to him. Blindly seeking heat in her sleep. 

He measures his pulse, convinced that his heart might leap right out of his chest. He calms his own breathing, syncing it with Rebecca’s deep, slow, inhales and exhales. The memory of the tide lapping at the sand during trips to the beach fills his mind, he hears his own laughter, Henry’s face bright with a joy that only children can manage to carry. 

In his mind, he counts the shells they collected that day, the same way the two of them count sheep to fall asleep. And somewhere in that inventory, Ted finds his eyes drifting shut again. 

Her fingertips tickle, brushing nonsensical shapes and letters across his chest and collarbones. Her lips feather light in their mission to scatter kisses. Ted doesn't bother to stop his growing smile, how could he in this private bubble of incandescent freedom. 

His left hand catches hers, halting its journey south. He swears he feels her pouting, but she laughs when he takes his turn doling out kisses, starting with the pads of her captured fingers. A gentle scratch of his mustache across her skin results in barely contain giggles from Rebecca. Ted revels in her amusement. Honoured to be privy to so many parts of her personhood; having seen her chop and lug wood, care for him so diligently when he was only an injured stranger, and now melt against his side.

“I have a son,” he blurts out.

It's not a confession. It wasn't a secret. But the words feel like they've shaken something. Shifted the tide. Four words that carry with them all his hopes and dreams, and all his biggest fears. A Pandora's box sorta situation. 

“I have a goddaughter,” Rebecca says, she smiles but Ted can see the complexity of something more in her eyes, the urge to say more lingering on her tongue. He wants to listen.  

“What's her name?” Ted ventures when the silence between them threatens to deafen.

“Nora. She'll be thirteen this year,” Rebecca answers without hesitation, “what's your son’s name?”

“Henry. He just turned nine,” Ted's smile grows again, and he rolls over to face Rebecca, “he's getting so big--sometimes I worry I'm going to blink and he'll be off to college. And while I'm sure he's going to do great things, I wish I could keep him a kid forever”.

There's what looks to be a pinch of hurt across Rebecca's face, but she takes a deep breath, and Ted can feel her long limbs stretching out beneath the sheets. It reminds him of a lion puffing up its main, an attempt to appear bigger, more confident. He decides that the silent pep talk suits her. She's definitely a lion. 

“I only managed to get reacquainted with Nora last year,” Rebecca explains, “she was six the last time I saw her-- I let Rupert isolate me, and then I isolated myself further. It wasn't fair to my friend Sassy. It certainly wasn't fair to Nora”.

“Doesn't sound like it was very fair to you either,” Ted all but whispers.

Ted’s learned to realize that Rebecca is far harder on herself than she is on anyone else. He can see it in the way she takes on half the blame for emotional aches and pains he’s sure are only Rupert’s. He wonders who taught her to bare that blame. 

Rebecca’s silence feels like enough of a response to his statement; proof that there’s more than what meets the eye when it comes to the psyche of the woman in front of him. Without words, he understands why she seems to stuff it all away behind walls and fences, but he feels them crumbling when she lets her eyes meet his again. 

“For what it’s worth,” Ted speaks, his fingers resuming their invisible artwork up, and down her spine, “I’d bet you’re a fantastic godmother. And I’m still holding out hope that you might be a magical one at that.”

She laughs, so he continues, “How neat would that be if this whole time you’ve been out in the woods doing fairy-godmother things? Turning chipmunks into coachmen, and pinecones into carriages?” The sound is infectious, and his own chuckles start as just a smirk growing as loud and as silly as hers by the time he’s run out of fairy-godmother activities to add to the ridiculous list of a skills. 

The passing of two days feels like two hours, and Ted holds off until the last possible minute to say his goodbyes. He knows the roads will be dark for his drive home, but he couldn’t care less. Sunset rests at the top of the trees and they stand leaning against his car, in the gravel parkinglot. 

“You should text me,” Rebecca says, pulling her flannel jacket closer around her. “I thought you didn’t get cell reception out here?” “We got cell towers put in. Turns out campers have a habit of falling off trails, and getting lost. If they have a signal it’s easier to get help… and hopefully, it makes the quiet seasons less lonely for us who live here year-round”. 

“I feel like you might be flirtin’ with me”. 

“And so what if I am?” “You might regret it. I can be quite the texter-- might call and chat your ear off as well,” Ted shrugs his cheeks aching from smiling. “I’ve had worse company,” she smirks, “text me anytime”. 

He kisses her before he leaves, and the feel of her hand on his cheek lingers, and his phone feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket with the urge to text her as soon as he gets to his first rest stop. 

At home, his bed feels too big. Too empty. Too cold. He still hasn’t texted her, and he decides to wait until the morning. He knows she was genuine in her invitation to message her anytime, but the fear of being too much still sticks in his throat. His chest feels tight, and he wills his eyes shut, convincing himself to count sheep for another night. 

Ted remembers believing that time moved faster when he was asleep. Six years old and bundled up in his coziest Christmas pyjamas, asking to be tucked into bed at 4:00 in the afternoon so that Christmas morning would come quicker. He wishes now that he’d been correct in his childhood reasoning, that shutting his eyes tonight might bring the next time he could see Rebecca any closer. 

His phone lights up on the nightstand. Goodnight, Ted. I hope you got home safe. 💜

The last few weeks of spring bring late-night conversations, and daily good-morning texts. He sends puns, and pictures of some of the art Henry makes at school. She shows him what she’s made for dinner and daily updates about the nest of baby bunnies near her cabin. He listens to her plans for the park’s summer programming and supports her new tree planting initiative, volunteering himself and Henry to plant saplings in the summertime. Nora comes to visit her and is happy to be put to work chopping wood, and scouting with her godmother. 

The summer sun is hot and leaves Ted’s cheeks, and shoulders tinted pink. The lake is a refreshing break after a long hike, and Henry insists on learning how to swim on this trip. Rebecca cheers from the narrow pebbled beach, her wide-brimmed hat protecting her from the light; and she’s positively glowing in her tank top and denim shorts. 

“I’m gonna teach you how to swim the same way my dad taught me, alright kiddo?” Henry nods eagerly, holding tight to his father’s arm. 

The water is shallow enough for Ted to stand, and deep enough for Henry to learn to kick and puddle. With the support of Ted’s arms under his chest and belly Henry gets used to going through the motions and gets comfortable floating. 

“Do you trust me?”Ted asks. 

“Of course,” Henry says and Ted slowly lowers his arms until the boy is swimming entirely on his own. 

“Dad, I’m doing it! Dad look!” Henry shouts swimming a lap around Ted. “I see ya bud! I see you,” Ted promises as Rebecca films the moment for him to keep forever. 

The fall rolls in heavy, all dark clouds and rainfall, the cold seeping in. September feels like a punch to the gut. 

He tells her about his father. About the day he lost him, the gap in his heart he’s never been able to fill back in, and the shattering sound he’ll never be able to forget. Rebecca tells him about her father, and the day she caught him cheating on her mother. She tells him about the constant suspicion she’s harboured since that night, and the anger she wishes she could shake. 

They talk about the odds, how the same date could’ve been so life-altering for both of them, albeit in different ways; what are the odds they found each other? They fall asleep miles apart, sharing their beds with cellphones propped up on pillows, the sound of the other’s breathing lulling them to sleep. 

November comes with a new wave of daily autumnal-themed puns from Ted. 

He boasts about his ma’s pumpkin pie and Rebecca sends photos of the trees changing colours.

“My work contract is expiring soon,” Ted tells her one night. “Oh, do you have the option to renew?” “I do. But I’m not sure I want to. I’m thinking about taking some time off. Look for something new”. “That sounds lovely. Are you going to travel?” Rebecca asks. “Sorta. There’s this park I’ve grown quite fond of, I was going to inquire about renting a cabin…You don’t know anyone who might have a place I can crash at do ya?” 

“I might know a place,” she teases.

“What did the acorn say to the ground?” Ted asks, his arms winding around her while she makes her morning tea. “What are you on about?” she’s still half asleep, and he buries his face against the side of her neck, leaving a kiss behind. 

“I’m falling for you”. 

Ted watches her set down her mug, turning to just stare at him. Silent. Blinking. And then, “Oh my god! You arse! Of course, you'd be the first to say I love you with some folksy little pun!” She smiles despite herself, his face held in both her hands, “you're incorrigible!” 

He hears the swing of her axe before he sees her. The swoosh of air before the echoed thud as it collides with the tree trunk. The tree she’s picked out is perfect. A smidge under six feet, with full brunches. The best Christmas tree he’s ever seen, though Henry would remind him that he’s prone to saying that about every Christmas tree they’ve ever had. 

“Can I help?” He asks as he gets closer. She pauses, lowering the axe and stretching her back, “I’m just about done here. But you could make me a cup of tea”. She grins, accepting his kiss. 

“That, I can absolutely manage,” Ted promises before adding, “I made you biscuits”. “I thought you were waiting for Henry to get here?” “Ah, but those will be Christmas biscuits”. “And the ones you made today-- on Christmas eve, they aren’t?” “Nope!” Her brows furrow, as she tries to understand him, “What are they then?” “These? These are ‘just because’ biscuits,” he shrugs. She can’t help her smile at his antics, “Just because?” “Just because I love you”.

[evntualities]

new ted lasso trailer... roy seeing the poster jamie has of him hanging in his childhood bedroom

anyways, this isn’t from ral’s pov, but rest assured that this means a lot to him / ral + li

“Sorry. It’s... kinda a mess. It’s mostly Iz who stays here, but she’s been busy—” in Montreal, the Norris winner at her side— “And sometimes a couple of the guys used to stay here, but I haven’t been back in a while, so, there’s a lot of work to do.” Leaning against the doorframe, Liam folds his arms over his chest, eyes scanning over the room, which is covered in clutter from his move to (and from) Toronto.

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for letting me stay. Shouldn’t be more than a couple of days.” Setting his bag on the bed, Raleigh looks at the desk across the room, and his eyes settle on the overflowing box on the top.

Liam shrugs, standing taller as he steps back from the doorway. “No, it’s no problem. You actually caught me just in time. I was thinking of heading home to visit my family, actually. Spending the summer there while I...” Rehab and get treatment and to try everything he can to fix his knee before training camp. “Just... y’know, a break from the city.” As much as he loves being here, Liam has learned how fast the noise can overwhelm you, pulling you under until it’s impossible to see, to hear, anything else. He won’t let it happen again.

“Sounds like it’ll be good for you,” Raleigh says, because he knows that feeling well enough, himself. It’s why he’s here instead of back in Boston for the summer. It’s why he hasn’t stepped foot in Nelson since he was a kid. “After all of this... you’re welcome back up to the cabin.” And after all these years, Liam is proud to say that he can call Raleigh Pierce a friend, but he may never understand how truly elusive that invitation is. Though, as Raleigh meets his eyes once again, the same fondness dictating his expression, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. There are few people in the world that Raleigh would do anything for, but Liam makes the list. “Doesn’t hurt to get away from home, either.” Not to mention that Raleigh has found that there isn’t much that can’t be fixed by a visit up north. 

“Oh, I may take you up on that,” Liam says, the beginnings of a smile drawing across his expression.

“I hope you do.” Looking back to his bag, Raleigh walks around to the other side of the bed and unfastens the zipper.

“Well, I’ll let you get settled. I have to meet a couple doctors at the rink, but I’ll be back later. I’ll bring dinner, if you want. I’ll let you know. Just text me what you want.” 

Shrugging his jacket off, Raleigh nods from where he stands at the foot of the bed, working to unpack what he’ll need for the next couple of days. 

His eyes travel to the wall above the bed, to the jersey that is carefully hanging in its frame. The deep green #9 is familiar, that of a guy who entered the league the same year he did. Raleigh can’t help laughing, which is enough to keep Liam from turning the corner. “I can’t be mad. Can’t say I’m not a little jealous.”

Following his gaze, Liam feels a blush rise across his cheeks, and this is another reason he chooses not to come into this room: it houses all of the memorabilia that has been collected over the years.

“Well, you shouldn’t feel too bad.” Stepping into the room, Liam pauses beside the desk, pushes the box aside, and pulls a folded jersey from the top. #71 Pierce. “It’s signed, too. I just never got around to framing it. My dad gave it to me... years ago. Before the draft and everything. I’ve had it a while.”

“You’re really making this worse, Wright.” Though Raleigh feels the same smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m—okay, okay! If it makes you feel better, I’ve got a few I have to frame. I just... once I put it here, I don’t really look at it again.” Not without reason. Especially as a young, developing player, it’s easy to associate the awards with success, when really, they lie independent of each other. When you start to take any of the awards too seriously, looking to that instead of the game, things stop working the way that they should. Liam had to learn that the hard way.

The box on the desk... these awards are from high school, championship rings from juniors, signed jerseys, Olympic medals, pucks for every milestone at every level, and all Liam can think when he looks at it is how he feels now: empty and worthless with a knee that won’t even let him don a pair of skates. What do all of the awards mean, then? If he can’t even skate?

“What’s that one?” Raleigh says, stepping closer, interrupting Liam’s frame of thought. nodding to the frame that sits underneath the box.

“Oh.” Humming, Liam carefully removes the boxes to reveal the frame that sits underneath. It’s covered in dust, edges a little worn from moves, but the jersey is good as new inside—Tartan Titans, signed by each member of the 2008-09 season, which was his last with the team. The last one before he was drafted by the USHL. “Titans. Varsity captain as a sophomore. They, uh, all signed it. Gave it to me the day before I left. Tartan usually feeds into Minnesota State, so it was good company.”

“Is that where you would’ve gone?”

“Probably,” Liam says, brushing his finger along the edge of the frame. “But what were you saying about getting away from home earlier?” Setting the box back atop the glass, he steps back. “Sometimes it’s good to get away.”

[huntedvideo]

ted lasso  ,  get out.

             when i imagine myself, i’m always leaving ; i couldn’t draw my own face if god asked... running away had always been the easier option. leaving things, and people, behind, with an excuse of keeping them safe. and that wasn’t entirely untrue. finley’s occupation put himself and everyone around him in danger. and recently, he believed someone - more than one someone - was following him. hunts had him traveling across the country, sometimes out of it, if he was needed. deep down, however, he was well aware that he was just running away. from commitment, his own feelings, feelings others might have for him. stepping out when things got too deep, or when someone peeled back the layers finley didn’t want anyone to see. he’s a coward. he knows it better than anyone. 

for awhile, he thought it’d be different with ted. the longer fin stayed, the less he thought about leaving. weeks turned to months, but the itch to get out would never allow him to drop an anchor here. not even with someone he loved as much as ted lasso.

this must be the final straw. finley packing up one night, slipping out from under the covers he shared with ted, shutting the door behind him, leaving in the middle of the night without even a goodbye. he returned three weeks later with some bruises, drenched from the rain outside, standing at ted’s doorstep as if no time had passed between then and now, expecting everything to be the same. no calls, no texts, just fin doing what he does best - ruining the only good thing he had. when ted invited him inside, finley thought everything was going to be okay. he had even mumbled a joke under his breath, but when ted didn’t so much as crack a smile, the atmosphere in the room shifted. the conversation that followed didn’t leave much room for fin to make his excuses, this time. ted talked, finley listened, wanting to crawl out of his skin, wishing he was different, but knowing he wasn’t ready to be. seeing tears in ted’s eyes, fin steps forward to comfort him, only to be stopped by two sharp words: get out. guilt and shock twist in his gut, but who was he to fight this? fin should leave. he hurt ted, and he’d continue to hurt ted, and finley should disappear and let him live. he’d be better off without him. still soaked to the bone, fin slowly reaches down for his bag, glancing over ted once more before he turns back towards the door. for once, he doesn’t have anything to say. and like many times before, he walks away from something good he wouldn’t let himself have.     @belasso​.