#ted lasso in the kitchen

[jomiddlemarch]

My thanksgiving is perpetual 

For the first time in Grace’s memory, watching Joel unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans was not erotic. 

At all.

“Oh, that’s better,” he sighed and closed his eyes, which also was usually erotic as hell. She had no impulse to jump his bones, to drag his jeans down, to get on her knees and rest her hands on his bare thighs…

“I will not be insulted if you fall asleep,” she said, settling herself down at the other end of the sofa, a squashy pillow at the small of her back. He reached over and grabbed her feet in their wool socks and set them on his lap. “Though don’t blame it on tryptophan. That was debunked a long time ago. Before.”

“I thought we were going to play cards or charades or something,” Ellie said. She displayed no signs of lethargy and in fact, seemed like she might literally bounce off the walls. The fire was already burning merrily and there was plenty of wood split, otherwise Grace might have suggested Ellie go work off some energy restocking the woodpile, despite the sleet beginning to tap against the windows. There wasn’t even sugar to blame, since they’d decided to follow tradition and serve all the pies (Why were there seven? Why were three some variation of sweet potato? What if the mincemeat one was good?) at their regular dinner time.

“Gimme me an hour,” Joel said. Grace snorted. The hand that wasn’t wrapped around her left ankle was splayed across his belly, breaching the divide between the sides of his plaid flannel shirt. She didn’t doubt he could leap into action if there were cause, like a full-on invasion of clickers, but nothing less would get him off the sofa.

“I didn’t think this would happen,” he remarked. “I thought, after the world ended, at least there’d be no more fucking turkey to choke down—”

“You ate a drumstick and like half the breast, Joel. You ate that pope’s nose thing and that was disgusting and not even on a dare. Didn’t seem like you had any trouble, ‘choking it down,’” Ellie said, really emphasizing the air-quotes. She’d rather play charades, Grace could tell, and she’d probably be on the winning team, not only because she was the most alert. If the school decided to move ahead with their Shakespeare production, it would be a crime if Ellie wasn’t cast.

“That’s because Ted can actually roast a turkey properly,” Grace said. He’d arrived soon after dawn, fully kitted out with his white apron underneath his heavy coat, a chef’s toque in place, Beard beside him looking like Death, if Death carried two large string bags filled with root vegetables, a dishtowel over his shoulder in lieu of a scarf. “I don’t know what Ted did and before you start to explain, I don’t think I want to. I want there to still be miracles in the world.”

“And the miracle is turkey?” Ellie said. “No offense, but I preferred the venison pie.”

“Yeah, the miracle’s the turkey. And being here, people in the kitchen fussing over basting it, someone setting the table, lighting candles. Sitting together and finding something to say when you’re asked what you’re grateful for. Meaning it. Eating yourself into a food coma,” Grace said. “Fighting over the wishbone—”

“That wasn’t a fair fight,” Ellie said.

“It never is. Not supposed to be,” Joel said. His cheeks were flushed even though he’d taken off his sweater before they sat down for the meal and his five o’clock shadow was making an early appearance, one Grace had no problem with. “Wasn’t ever like this in a QZ. FEDRA couldn’t risk it—”

“Risk what?” Ellie said.

“People rememberin’,” Ted said from the doorway of the kitchen, toque off, hands shoved in his pockets. “Who was gone, how much everybody lost. People liable to just lay down and die or start a fight to feel somethin’ else.”

“Also, they didn’t have an adequate supply of turkeys,” Beard said. “Trying to breed wild turkeys in captivity’s a bitch.”

“As usual, Coach Beard speaks the truth, Baby Ruth,” Ted said. “This is probably as close to Before as anyone’s likely to get. Except Joel must’ve forgotten—‘’

“Forgotten what?” Ellie asked. She either knew Ted well enough not to ask about the Baby Ruth remark or it was one he’d made before, she’d asked, and she was now entirely familiar with the history of the candy bar and specifically, Ted’s childhood encounters with it.

“To wear elastic waist pants to Turkey Day if you can swing it,” Ted said. “So you’ve got plenty of room. For pie and leftovers.”

“Did people actually have special pants just for this?” Ellie said. The adults all smiled at her earnest tone and expression, one the children often used, as if Before had been a thousand years ago, subject of archaeology and speculation, a culture so far distant they might as well need a new Rosetta Stone to decipher its intricacies.

“Nah,” Joel said. 

“Lots of people would wear sweats,” Grace said. “Or change into them. Scrubs were good for Thanksgiving too—I don’t think there were any doctors I knew who didn’t have a spare pair for kicking around in at home.”

“So, it wasn’t fancier Before,” Ellie said. 

“Thanksgiving wasn’t a fancy holiday,” Joel said. “New Year’s, Christmas, folks had big parties for those, but Thanksgiving was just more about family. Making enough food for the whole block. Football.”

“Turkey trots,” Beard called out.

“Thanksgiving-themed races, usually for charity and to work-off all the carbs or justify them,” Grace said, before Ellie could ask whether he meant turkeys suffered from loose bowels and if that was why turducken had been invented. Beard had been sure to explain turducken at a recent soccer practice. Grace yawned and saw Joel’s eyes were drowsy. Trying to convince Ellie to take a nap seemed to be a miracle beyond all hope.

“It’s clearing up,” Ted announced. From what Grace could see, Ted’s was a generous interpretation of the current level of precipitation, but she wasn’t about to quibble as he seemed to have some ulterior motive. “Let’s you and me and Coach go for a walk, Ellie. We can fetch Tommy and Maria and whoever all’s at their place and bring ‘em back for dessert and charades.”

Beard gave Grace the slowest wink that could still merit the name (as opposed to evidence of a stroke induced by the roughly nine hundred pounds of butter Ted had used on the bird) and heaved himself up from the chair he was in. Within a matter of minutes, all three had bundled up and headed out. Their departure made the house seem all the cozier, the brief glimpse of the rapidly approaching dusk dissipated by the firelight’s gold and amber painted on the walls, the floorboards, the planes of Joel’s face. His hand tightened around her ankle, then stroked up the curve of her calf.

“I hate to disappoint you, but I don’t think I’m up for much of anything,” Grace said. “I definitely overindulged in those mashed potatoes. And the stuffing and that squash gratin thing. The gravy, good Lord, that was like Michelin-star level

“Well, I want you to be on my team when we play charades. And later, I’d like to split a piece of Ted’s apple bourbon pie,” he said.

“Split a piece?”

“I’d like to get hungry again, darlin’. Once everyone goes home,” he said. “I’d like to be grateful, together.”

[freegaza22222]

Please help my family before stopping the campaign with 24 hours remaining📢📣💔🇵🇸🍉

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@el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @nabulsi @fairuzfan @palipunk @opencommunion @northgazaupdates @communistchilchuck @sar-soor

[coramills]

Ted Lasso Stills 3x12 - Rebecca Welton

[what-in-procrastination]

well now that we’ve met jamie’s mom we know who introduced him to tina turner & stevie nicks :’)

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

TV shows should have virtual tours of characters homes available along with floor plans so I can include them in my fanfics.

[waywardted]

One last round of field notes 📝

[crazypenguintacofan]

A stabbing wound would hurt less than the Keelroy break up

[lajulie24]

I was tagged by @diplomaticprincess to answer the following. ❤️ Tag some people you’d like to know better!

Last song I listened to: “Technicolour Beat” by Oh Wonder

Last show I watched: Ted Lasso

Last movie I saw: The Banshees of Inisherin

Currently watching: Shrinking, The Last of Us, The Mandalorian, Dickinson, and just finished up a rewatch of Star Wars Rebels. Oh, and I guess I’m watching Ted Lasso now.

Currently reading: The Courtship of Princess Leia (it’s a reread for book club, this shit is terrible but hilarious), the Saga graphic novel series, lots of Star Wars fanfiction

Current obsessions: My new ankle boots, interesting necklaces and dangly earrings, my new purple and pink highlights, the Maintenance Phase podcast (among others), the Kitchen and Jorn YouTube channel (among others).

Tagging: @corelliaxdreaming @delicatefalice @keys2thefalcon @organanation @otterandterrier @graciecatfamilyband @millennial-falcon @ewokshootsfirst @inelegantprose @theorganasolo @contrivedcoincidences6 and anyone else who wants to play!

[bluelabel222]

Günaydın sıkıcı bir gün

[case-57-with-the-enclosure]

i still can't believe they pulled that one on the tedbecca enjoyers JHKSJDG it was just a succession of me going WHAT. WHAT. while more people popped up on rebecca's kitchen. In my heart they're all on a extremely weird queerplatonic polycule.

[belasso-archive]

thinking  about  how  ted  is  a  visual  learner.     he  doesn’t  grasp  things  through  reading  or  hearing,     he  needs  to  see  it  to  get  it.     that  doesn’t  make  him  stupid,     it  just  means  he  learns  differently.     and  if  i  see  one  more  person  call  him  stupid,     or  an  idiot,     i’m  gonna  throw  hands

[appropriatelystupid]

forgot something very important in my dads car and didn’t realize until i was getting on the plane and now i’m stuck here for another night

[bigcallum]

Just a bit of art that i made. Its a caveman in pixel art. I quite like his facial expression because it makes him look stupid.

[merrymongoose]

Ted lasso s4. It's mentioned offhandedly that jamie moved clubs because it would be unethical for a coach (roy) to be dating one of his players. We never see jamie. Anytime there is a scene in roy's house, jamie's always in the shower, or making dinner (don't go in the kitchen, it's a trainwreck - let's talk in the living room instead).

Jamie's ICOG hat is on the couch. Their richmond jerseys are hung up together side by side. There's a large framed version of brett goldstein's + phil dunster's prom-style photos hung above the fireplace. Jamie drops roy off at work. He's driving: you never see him. Domestic bliss.

[hardly-an-escape]

home | Buck/Tommy | 846 words | rated T

It's the first time that particular thought has consciously coalesced into those particular words, but Buck knows immediately that it's true, and right; knows it down to the bottom of his stomach, down to the soles of his feet. He loves Tommy.

Oh. I love him.

Buck thinks it for the first time about five weeks into dating Tommy.

It's such early days that they don't have keys to each other's places yet, and Tommy's the kind of guy who always keeps his front door locked after dark, so Buck is standing under the front porch light with a bottle of wine in one hand and a backpack in the other. He just rang the doorbell. It should make him feel like a kid, or maybe like a teenager picking up his prom date, but instead it fills him with the kind of giddy, heady anticipation he hasn't felt in years.

Tommy's on the other side of that door. Tommy's waiting for him. Tommy told him to come by after his shift and bring a red and he'd make them a late dinner. Tommy's about to open the door and usher him inside, and they'll probably sit on the couch and watch another episode of Ted Lasso, because Tommy kind of has a not-so-secret thing for hot soccer players, and it'll be quiet and cozy and the best night Buck has all week.

The front door swings open, and the light from the living room spills out onto the porch. Tommy is standing just inside, a battered le Carré novel in one hand, finger in the middle marking his place. He's wearing his reading glasses, which Buck adores in spite of the fact that they make him feel self-consciously old, because they make him look so soft and professorial and kind.

As soon as he sees Buck standing there, he smiles – the wide, genuine smile that deepens the creases around his mouth and crinkles up the corners of his eyes.

Oh, thinks Buck. I love him.

It's the first time that particular thought has consciously coalesced into those particular words, but Buck knows immediately that it's true, and right; knows it down to the bottom of his stomach, down to the soles of his feet. He loves Tommy.

"Hey, babe," Tommy says, and smiles, and leans in for a kiss. "Come on in. I got you something today."

"Hey," Buck smiles, and kisses him back. "You did? Wow, and it's not even my birthday yet."

"It's nothing special," Tommy says as he closes the front door and automatically flips the deadbolt. "Just something that made me think of you."

He digs in his pocket and pulls out a little miniature helicopter, painted in LAFD colors. At first Buck thinks it's some kind of toy, and he's a little mystified – until he notices that the tiny helicopter is dangling off the end of a short chain.

Until he notices what's on the other end of the chain.

"A key?" he asks, grinning, and Tommy's grin in return is blinding in its brightness. I love him. "Really?"

"Figured it would make things a little easier. Can't have my boyfriend sitting on the porch like a sad little orphan if I'm running late some night."

"A sad little orphan, huh? What kind of books are you reading?" Buck sets his backpack down so he can wrap one arm around Tommy's waist and pull him into another kiss, sweet and slow. "Thank you. I love – I love it."

"Good."

"And I'll get you a key to my place as soon as I can get to a hardware store this weekend."

"There's no rush, Evan. I'm giving you a key to my house because I want you to be comfortable in my space. Because I like having you here," Tommy says gently. "Not to make some kind of... point."

"Okay, well, I like having you in my space, too, so we're even. So there."

"Well, that's me told." Tommy kisses him again and Buck lets a hint of hunger seep into it this time, lets his teeth sink into Tommy's bottom lip just a little, the way he knows Tommy likes, the way that always makes him shiver. "Dinner's in the oven. Needs another five minutes, maybe."

"Sounds good."

Buck makes his way past Tommy, through the living room and into the kitchen. The lights are warm and low, and the whole space is fragrant with spices and the smell of something roasting. Buck knows where the wine key is and which cabinet has the good glasses; he knows how to work the fancy coffee maker and how Tommy will take it when he brings him a cup in bed the next morning.

He knows how Tommy looks in the morning, face pink and slack with sleep, curls untamed. He knows how Tommy looks in many moods – concentration, anger, arousal – he knows what makes Tommy's breathing quicken and his heart race. And now he knows a new thing: how Tommy looks when he is loved by Evan Buckley, before he even knows he is loved.

They move seamlessly around each other in the little kitchen. Buck opens the wine and feels the weight of Tommy's house key in his pocket. Oh, I love him.

He feels at home. Finally, truly, solidly, at home.

okay I'm sure I stole the idea of Tommy giving Buck a key on a helicopter keychain from somewhere, but for the life of me I cannot find the post. so if you know it please link me?

[believesthings]

Carnal Coffee Mornings // Ted lasso x reader

Summary: Ted surprises you with some morning coffee and some sexiness ensues.

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving)

Just a little something to get myself back in the swing of writing.

“Well, hey there Darlin’. Come on - sit down.”

Ted is standing in the kitchen, ushering his way towards you with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

You make your way to the dining room table, taking the cup of coffee from his outstretched hands.

“Morning, Ted. What are you up to?” You ask with a laugh. Leave it to Ted to always have something up his sleeve when it comes to you.

“Just wanted to show you some lovin’ that’s all.”

You cock your head at him, “Ted, you do that everyday.”

“I know, I know but - we’ve both just been so busy lately and I feel like I haven’t really been able to spoil you like normal but…”

He trails off and his gaze lands on the clock in the corner. “It seems like we might have some extra time this morning.”

You open your mouth but he puts his hand up to shush you before you can protest.

“Now, I know we’ve both got work, you’re already dressed and I wouldn’t wanna ruin your pretty outfit, plus you’ve got coffee to drink before it gets too cold. So you sit right there and I’m gonna do the work.”

Of course. Ted is a giver. You shouldn’t have suspected anything different. You couldn’t help but squirm at the thought. Ted is making his way under the table, you hear him ask, “it okay if I move this skirt up, and take these panties off pretty girl?”

“Um - yes.”

You were trying to focus on your coffee, but good lord, he’s kissing your thighs. He couldn’t have really expected you to handle a hot beverage while he was between your legs, could he?

“Can’t wait to have a taste..” he murmurs against your pussy. The vibrations of his voice against your slit already has you gasping.

“T-Ted.” You let out rather breathlessly. Your hands instinctively move towards his hair and he groans against your pussy.

“Feel free to tug on my hair there, Darlin. Have fun with it. I know I definitely will.”

He fastens his mouth over your pussy, giving you an open mouthed kiss. You’re careful to try not to knock over your coffee cup as you steady yourself on the table. His lips and teeth are traveling over your cunt to your swollen clit, his nimble fingers teasing at your opening.

He pulls his mouth back, letting his fingers take over the job. “You seem pretty needy there, honey. You gonna take my fingers?”

Before you can get even let out a sound, however, his mouth is back to work. His tongue and fingers seeming to work in tandem. You scratch along his scalp as your hips rise against his tongue.

“Ah, patience.” He grumbles. Ted always likes take his time and appreciate you but good lord, this was a slowness you weren’t used to. There were so many slow strokes and kisses against your heat.

“You know what they say, right? Good things come to those who wait.” He paused pulls his mouth away and goes back to kissing your inner thighs and you can’t help but groan.

“I love hearing your breath hitch when I do this. Seeing you turn senseless cause of me? You spend so much time stuck up in that pretty little head of yours. I love having the chance to pull you out of it.”

God, even if you could think of something to say, you didn’t think your mouth would be capable of forming an actual response. He went back to kissing along the lips of your pussy, pausing to sink his tongue in as deep as he could, then withdrawing to suck on your clit again.

His fingers go back to work and he’s not letting up. “Can you feel my fingers baby? I love the way you respond to me. You’re so beautiful, you know that? You wanna cum, sweet girl?”

You didn’t take the time to question if he was teasing you. You nodded furiously. He kept stroking your walls and kissing your thighs and you were starting to worry you were becoming too sensitive.

“Lord. Your skin is so soft. I’ll never understand how you do that.” He murmurs almost more to himself than to you. “What if I just did this a little bit… harder?”

His fingers seem to move purposefully, pressing against all the tender spots his fingers have been skillfully avoiding this whole time. You head falls back and moan escapes you as he places the flat of his tongue against your clit, almost pressing down too firmly, his eyes flick up to see your head hanging back off the dining room chair, eyes closed.

He intertwines his arm around your leg, wrapping it behind his body. “Look down at me, baby.” His head gently nudges up, peaking his head out underneath the table. You turn your head down, eyes hooded, drinking him in.

“Put your hands around my neck and keep your eyes on me, okay? I want you to watch me devour your pretty body.”

You mindlessly did as you were told. You were in too much of a daze. “You’re mine, you know? And I’m yours. You fit so perfectly into me.”

Before you know it, you’re on the edge of climax.

“There we go. Let go for me.”

You’re gasping trying to come down from your high. You look at the cup of coffee in front of you, lukewarm and bordering on cold. It snaps you back to reality. You turn around anxiously looking at the clock.

Ted is acting like nothing happened. He pushes your skirt back down, and comes back up from under the table.

“Looks like it’s time to go work, huh sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” you were still in a daze. How was Ted so put together? As if he didn’t just make you come undone?

It’s only as you’re halfway out the driveway that you realize Ted never put your panties back on.