#ted lasso the show says that you need people around you who you can lean on and who can help you be your best version
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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
#ted lasso x reader#ted lasso#ted lasso x plus size reader#ted lasso x you#ted lasso fluff#Ted Lasso#jason sudeikis
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meme
Tagged by @heffer-wen, I think this is a "getting to know people better" meme? Not tagging but feel free if you want! Includes WIP snippets at the end.
last song: hmmm not a fun answer but I have a friend visiting and we were driving around earlier with So Much (for) Stardust playing in the car. I don’t remember what was playing when we parked, though, so let’s just go with the title song.
currently reading: <em>To Name the Bigger Lie</em> by Sarah Viren, which is subtitled “A Memoir In Two Stories.” The first thread is about a teacher she had in high school who was supposed to be teaching philosophy and instead took the idea of “what is truth?” and taught conspiracy theories (including Holocaust denial!!!). The second thread is about her wife (a university professor) being accused of sexual harassment. I’m only about halfway through so I don’t know how they tie together (besides the idea of “what is truth and how is it manufactured”) or how it ends.
Also friend and I have gone to several bookstores and my TBR pile is back up to 40, so. That.
currently watching: I wish I still had the ability to watch TV! When will my sports come back! (like next week, since I’m going to watch the women’s World Cup.) I do need to regain the ability to watch fictional TV other than Ted Lasso, since that’s over. I’m not open for recs at the moment but possibly soon.
latest obsession: I don’t have one right now and it makes life boring. I guess the thing I think about most while staring off into space is still Jordan/Virgil.
tall or short?: Short-ish. A little under average.
student or worker?: Worker, but with what the internet loves to call a “stupid little emails job” so do what you want with that.
colour: Blue.
flower: Ooh that’s a good question. Hmm. I planted coneflowers earlier this year and half of them died but the half that made it are just starting to bloom and I’m so proud of them, so I guess them right now.
food: Bread. Give me your carbs if you don’t want them.
WIP: A few things lurching toward being done.
1. The big Jamie hurt/comfort fic that is also ot3 and is going to be 50k by the time I add the last few scenes why does the universe make me suffer. Snip:
Then they have film review, which is boring, and he puts his jacket across his lap so he can text Keeley underneath it. She’s free after training and she’ll take him to a shop to look at planners and notebooks and then show him how to do something called bullet journaling, which sounds absolutely mad and confusing but he’ll give it a try if it makes her happy.
Roy comes over and leans down next to him just after they’ve finalized their plans. “You are either texting or having a wank under that jacket,” he says quietly, “and I don’t want to know which but either way you need to stop and pay attention.”
“I wouldn’t wank in front of all the lads,” Jamie whispers back. “That’s harassment. We watched a film about it.”
2. The one where Virgil is Virgil but Jordan went into ballet instead of football.
He was just out the doors and into the corridor when a voice came from behind him. “Excuse me.”
Virgil braced himself a little—being recognized in public was part of the job, but he was tired and his foot ached and it was a fucking medical office, for god’s sake—but stopped and looked back. “Yes?”
It was the blue-eyed man, holding out Virgil’s AirPods case. “This fell out of your pocket.”
“Oh.” Virgil went back and accepted it, noting in a distant part of his mind that the logo on the man’s jacket was a simple text one spelling out NORTHERN BALLET. “Thank you.”
The man tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. “Awful to lose those.”
“It is. But easy to do.”
That got him a faint smile, just a twist of the lips. Thin, pink lips, settled in a neatly trimmed beard. Everything about the man was meticulous, his hair gelled mercilessly into place, his fingernails short and spotless when Virgil had taken the case from him. “I’ve had to switch to buying the cheapest brand. That way I’m not out a few hundred quid every time I lose them or run them through the wash.”
“Don’t remind me.” Virgil tucked the case in his pocket and offered his hand. “I’m Virgil, by the way.”
That gets another smile, wider. “Did I play it cool enough that you didn’t know I recognized you?”
3. The one where they’re both at Liverpool but Jordan is a woman.
Virgil knows that watching a woman for half an hour without talking to her is creepy. In his defence, she's out in the middle of the training pitch, which is sort of the center of attention for anyone going in or out of the indoor facility. He had been on the way to his car with Milner and Robertson and stopped at the sound of a ball clanging off the crossbar.
"Who's that?" he'd asked, though her LFC women's team training kit narrowed it down a bit. He'd only been in Liverpool for a few weeks, though, he didn't know the women's side yet.
Robbo squinted across the pitch. "Oh. That's the women's captain. Horseface."
Milner slapped the back of Robbo's head. "Try again."
"Henderson, ow, Jordan Henderson. You don't have to hit me, the girls call her that too."
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coming back to this post i made again to elaborate - especially as the ted lasso fandom is discussing sam/rebecca and fandom racism in general. there are takes that are important to make that i had failed to previously, but there's also a growing amount of takes that i have to, As A Black Person™, respectfully disagree with.
tl;dr for the essay below sam being infantilized and the sam/rebecca relationship are not the same issue and discussing the former one doesn't mean excusing the latter. and we've reached the glen of the Dark Forest where we sit down and talk about fandom racism.
i should have elaborated this in my last post about sam/rebecca, but i didn't. i'll say it now - i personally don't support sam and rebecca getting together for real. i believe what people are saying is entirely correct, even though sam is an adult legally, he and rebecca are, at the very least, two wildly different stages of life. for americans, he's at the equivalent of being a junior in college. there are things he hasn't gotten the chance to experience and there are areas he needs to grow in. when i was younger, i didn't understand the significance of these age gaps, i just thought it would be fine if it was legal, but as someone who is now a little older than sam in universe, i understand fully. we can't downplay this. whether or not you think sam works for rebecca or not, even despite the gender inversion of the Older Man Younger Woman trope, whether or not he is a legal adult, i don't think at this point in time, their relationship would work. i think it's an interesting narrative device, but i don't want to see it play out in reality.
that being said!
what's worrying me is that two discussions are being conflated here that shouldn't be. sam having agency and being a little more grown™ than he's perceived to be does not suddenly make his relationship with rebecca justified. i had decided to bring it up because sam was being brought into the spotlight again and i was starting to realizing that his infantilization was more common than i felt comfortable with.
sam's infantilization (and i will continue to call it that), is a microaggression. it's is in the range of microaggressions that i would categorize as 'fandom overcompensation'. we have a prominent character of color that exhibits traits that aren't stereotypical, and we don't want to appear racist or stereotypical, so we lean hard in the other direction. they're not aggressive, they're a Sweet Baby, they're not world weary, they're now a little naive. they're not cold and distant, they're so nice and sweet that there's no one that wouldn't want approach them, and yeah, on their face, these new traits are a departure and, on their face, they seem they look really good.
but at a certain point, it reaches an inflection point, and, like the aftertaste of a diet coke, that alleged sweetness veers into something a lot less sweet. it veers into a lack of agency for the character. it veers into an innocence that appears to indicate that the person can't even take care of themselves. it veers into a one-dimensional characterization that doesn't allow for any depth or negative emotion.
it's not kind anymore. it's not a nice departure from negative stereotypes. it's not compensating for anything.
it's patronizing.
it is important that we emphasize that characters of color are more than the toxic stereotypes we lay on them, yes, but we make a mistake in thinking that the solution is overcorrection. for one thing, people of color can usually tell. don't get it twisted, it's actually pretty obvious. for another, it just shifts from one dimension to another. people of color are still supposed to be Only One Character Trait while white people can contain multitudes. ted, who is pretty much as pollyanna as they come, can be at once innocent and naive and deep and troubled and funny and scared. jamie can be a prick and sexy and also lonely and also a victim of abuse. sam, however, even though he was bullied (by jamie, no less), is thousands of miles away from home, and has led a protest on his team, is usually just characterized as human sunshine with much less acknowledgement of any other traits beyond that.
and that's why i cringe when fandom calls sam a Sweet Baby Boy without any sense of irony. is that all we're taking away? after all this time? even for a comedy, sam has received a substantive of screen time over two whole seasons, and we've seen a range of emotions from him. so as a black person it's hurtful that it's boiled down to Sweet Baby Boy.
that's the problem. we need to subvert stereotypes, but more importantly, we need to understand that people of color are not props, or pieces of cardboard for their white counterparts. they are full and actualized and have agency in their own right and they can have other emotions than Angry and Mean or Sweet and Bubbly without any nuance between the two. i think the show actually does a relatively good job of giving sam depth (relatively, always room for improvement, mind you), especially holding it in tension with his youth, but the fandom, i worry, does not.
it's the same reason why finn from star wars started out as the next male protagonist in the sequel trilogy but by the third movie was just running around yelling for REY!! it's the same reason why when people make Phase 4 Is the Phase For Therapy gifsets for the mcu and show wanda maximoff, loki, and bucky barnes crying and being sad but purposefully exclude sam wilson who had an entire show to tell us how difficult his life is, because people find out if pee oh sees are also complex, they'll tell the church.
and the reason why i picked up on this very early on is because i am an organic, certified fresh, 100% homegrown, non-gmo, a little ashy, indigenous sub saharan African black person. the ghanaian tribes i'm descended from have told me so, my black ass parents have told me so, and the nurses at the hospital in [insert asian country here] that started freaking out about how curly my hair was as my mother was mid pushing me out told me so!
and this stuff has real life implications. listen: being patronized as a black person sucks. do you know how many times i was patted on the back for doing quite honestly, the bare minimum in school? do you know how many times i was told how 'well spoken' or 'eloquent' i was because i just happen to have a white accent or use three syllable words? do you know how many times i've been cooed over by white women who couldn't get over how sweet i was just because i wasn't confrontational or rude like they wrongly expected me to be?
that's why they're called microaggressions. it's not a cross on your lawn or having the n-word spat in your face, but it cuts you down little by little until you're completely drained.
so that's the nuance. that's the subversion. the overcompensation is not a good thing. and people of color (and i suspect, even white people) have picked up on, in general, the different ways fandom treats sam and dani and even nate. what all of these discussions are converging on is fandom racism, which is not the diet form of racism, but another place for racism to reveal itself. and yeah, it's uncomfortable. it can seem out of left field. you may want to defend yourself. you may want to explain it away. but let me tap the sign on the proverbial bus:
if you are a white person, or a person of color who is not part of that racial group, even, you do not get to decide what is not racist for someone. full stop. there are no exceptions. there is no exit clause for you. there is no 'but, actually-'. that right wasn't even yours to cede or waive.
(it's also important to note that people of color also have the right to disagree on whether something is racist, but that doesn't necessarily negate the racism - it just means there's more to discuss and they can still leave with different interpretations)
people don't just whip out accusations of racism like a blue eyes white dragon in a yu-gi-oh duel. it's not fun for us. it's not something we like to do to muzzle people we don't want to engage with. and we're not concerned with making someone feel bad or ashamed. we're exposing something painful that we have to live with and, even worse, process literally everything we experience through. we can't turn it off. we can't be 'less sensitive' or 'less nitpicky'. we are literally the primary resources, we are the proverbial wikipedia articles with 3,000 sources when it comes to racism. who else would know more than us?
what 2020 has shown us very clearly is that racism is systemic. it's not always a bunch of Evil White Men rubbing their hands together in a dark room wondering how they're going to use the 'n-word' today. it's systemic. it's the way you call that one neighborhood 'sketchy'. it's how you use 'ratchet' and 'ghetto' when describing something bad. it's how you implicitly the assume the intelligence of your friend of color. it's the way you turned up your nose and your friend's food and bullied them for it in middle school but go to restaurants run by white people who have 'uplifted' it with inauthentic ingredients. it's telling someone how Well Spoken and Eloquent they are even though you've both gone to the same schools and work at the same workplace. it's the way you look down at some people of color for having a different body type than you because they've been redlined to neighborhoods where certain foods and resources are inaccessible, and yet mock up the racial features that appeal to you either through makeup or plastic surgery.
it's how when a person of color behaves badly, they're irredeemable, but a white person performing the same act or something similar is 'having a bad day' or 'isn't normally like this' or 'has room to grow' and we can't 'wait for their redemption arc', and yes, i'm not going to cover it in detail in this post but yes this is very much about nate. other people have also brought up the nuances in his arc and compared them to other white characters so i won't do it here.
these behaviors and reactions aren't planned. they aren't orchestrated. they're quite literally unconscious because they've been lovingly baked into western society for centuries. you can't wake up and be rid of it. whether you intended it or not, it can still be racist.
and it's actually quite hurtful and unfair to imply that concerns about racism in the TL fandom are unfounded or lacking any depth or simply meant to be sensational because you simply don't agree with it. i wish it was different, but it doesn't work that way. i'm not raising this up to 'call out' or shame people, but i'm adding to this discussion because, through how we talk about sam, and even dani and nate, i'm yet again seeing a pattern that has shortchanged people of color and made them feel unwelcome in fandom for far too long.
coach beard said it best: we need to do better.
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“Kent v The Shitty Knee Itself”- Ted Lasso
A sort-of-sequel to "Kent v Linebacker," but this can still be read on its own. Part 2 of 3 of my fics about Roy Kent's shitty knee.
Part 1 // Accompanying AU
WORDS: 1649
XXX
Roy Kent is old as shit.
His daughter is a fucking toddler. His son is in preschool.
And he has fucking arthritis.
“What the fuck do you mean I’ve got fucking arthritis?” Roy Kent explodes at the doctor, who waits patiently for his outburst to finish. “I’m in my fucking forties! I’ve got two fucking babies at home! What the fuck am I supposed to do when my fucking daughter needs to piss and we’re all sprinting into the bathroom? I can’t fucking potty train on a shit leg.”
His wife rubs his shoulders comfortingly; the news is less surprising to Keeley, who gave a damn when the doctors mentioned arthritis could develop, and who is also extremely endeared by her husband’s priorities, which apparently lie very firmly with teaching their daughter to pee in the toilet.
Roy shouldn’t be shocked either; he’s had a limp for a long time now, and progressively worsening pain. He’s been elevating his leg whenever possible, to the point where Ted pulls chairs up for him or sits down first so Roy doesn’t feel awkward (on good days, Roy scowls at Ted and stays standing, but these occurrences are increasingly few and far between). It’s been a long time coming, and as much as the great Roy Kent hates to admit weakness, his shit knee is getting shittier.
Keeley had forced him to go to the doctor when Roy scooped up both their children, one in each arm, and proceeded to fall on the floor in a heap of small limbs and curses. He again made the case that he was fine, but there’s a limit on how much Tylenol one person can take in a day, and Roy’s exceeded that limit for weeks.
He walks like he’s on a hill, wobbling as he drags his right leg behind him. Keeley remarks on how uneven his gait is, and Lily, his precious fucking baby, demonstrates just how wonky Roy is by limping around too. It makes him laugh, but then his gaze meets Keeley’s, and he realizes there’s not much he can do aside from accept his fate and ask Dr. Patel why his knee is failing him (again, the fucking thing).
Arthritis. Fucking hell.
“The majority of your symptoms can be mitigated by limiting any strain on your leg. This includes walking, lifting, twisting, standing, stairs-”
“-breathing, blinking, fucking doing any shit worthwhile-”
“We can also prescribe medication, but given the amount of pain you reported, I think the best option to look at is a walking assistant.”
“What, like a cane?” Roy snorts. He feels Keeley still behind him, then he looks up at Dr. Patel, who’s gazing back at him, entirely serious.
“A fucking cane.”
“It’ll alleviate the weight on your leg. Ideally, you won’t need it every day, but it’ll make a difference when discomfort gets too high.”
“Fuck no.” Keeley squeezes his shoulder. “Fine. Fucking hell.”
-
It’s an adjustment. Roy walks back to their car, cane-less for the time being, limping, and imagines a cane in his hand. Imagines being able to straighten up, and not going to bed in fucking agony after a long day.
He also imagines showing up to the football club with a cane in his hand and Jaime fucking Tartt the fucking muppet smirking at him with his stupid fucking face, and he wants to turn around and tell Dr. Patel he’ll never use a fucking cane in his fucking life. Then he imagines having a stick to beat Jaime with when he’s being a prick, and Roy grins to himself at the thought.
That’s what he tells Keeley on the way home: he’s on the fence. That there’s a stigma he doesn’t want, that he remembers this the pitiful looks he received after his first injury and after surgery. It’s fucking bullshit, that he’d be looked at differently just because of a fucking rod in his hand, or because his stupid knee is fucked.
“Since when does Roy Kent care about what other people think of him? I mean really,” Keeley tells him, patting his thigh. “Everyone decent won’t bat an eye, and anyone who does is a prat.” She shrugs. “It’s a flawless system, really. Good way to sort people out.”
Roy grunts in agreement and drums his fingers on the door. He sighs, leaning his head back.
“What if I can’t keep up with Lily and Ollie? What the fuck am I supposed to do with little kids?”
“We’ll adapt,” Keeley promises, offering her hand. Roy takes it and presses it to his lips. “They already know they can’t run from you, or bowl into you at full speed-” Roy snorts at this. “-so now we tell ‘em that they gotta be patient.”
“They’re gonna be the most patient kids on the planet,” Roy muses, but his chest feels lighter. His wife is fucking amazing.
“They’re fucking perfect, they are. And besides- they don’t love you cause you can lift them or up throw them around or run around after them.” She squeezes his hand. “They love you ‘cause you’re you, Roy. You’re their dad.”
Roy nods silently. She’s right, as always. His heart is warm, much lighter against his ribs. “Thanks, babe,” he tells her, and Keeley beams at him.
-
They adapt. Roy remains in awe of the resilience of children- Lily and Oliver don’t give a damn that he uses a cane, except they quickly have to delineate that it’s not a toy, so Oliver doesn’t hit anyone with it, and so that Lily doesn’t hit Oliver with it. Because of this, Roy has to be careful not to threaten anyone at Richmond with his cane while his children are around. One day, his kids will learn to do as their dad says, not as he does, but for now, his babies swear and scowl, and pick up on every bad habit Roy shows them. It’s fucking adorable.
The first month is the hardest. Roy and Keeley decide to grant him some grace- he doesn’t have to do shit like garden or mow the lawn, or anything too strenuous. It’s uneven, in the beginning, and Roy goes to bed every night feeling like a shit husband for everything that’s unloaded on Keeley. They fight about it, eventually, and Roy apologizes to Keeley with tears in his eyes. They find a balance, which involves a chair in every room in their house and somebody hired to do the lawn. Their roles have shifted, but it’s a pattern he’s familiar with by now. He’s gone through so many major changes with Keeley: switching careers and marriage and injury and parenthood twice over. And using a cane isn’t any harder than having a newborn and a toddler, so they manage. After all, they’re unstoppable together.
Nobody on the team makes a comment on the cane, except Ted leaves sticky notes on it whenever Roy isn’t paying attention, and Roy wouldn’t mind so much if they weren’t positive fucking affirmations, the corny twat. Then the rest of the team follows suit, and they sign it and put stickers on it and all sorts of supportive shit, and Roy tells only one person this, but he kind of fucking likes it (against his better judgment, of course).
Commentators and the press are not nearly as kind. There’s any number of articles written about him and how old it makes the football world seem. Roy wants to fucking kill all of them, but Keeley reminds him that all the pricks have shown their true colors, and one day he finds a picture of a particularly insensitive reporter that has been utterly defiled and left out in the locker room. Roy tucks this away in a drawer in his office, and he’s almost nicer at practice that day.
Beard and Ted match his slower pace as they walk out to every match, which isn’t subtle even from the offset, but they don’t say anything about it and neither does Roy. He also realizes that he’s never the only one sitting in a group of his friends, even if it’s just him and Ted, or Keeley, or Rebecca, or Nate.
Yoga gets much harder, then he and the yoga moms spend a night researching yoga for people with shit legs, and yoga gets easier again. If they want to do a challenge night, Roy shifts into the role of yoga instructor, which he’s fucking great at, thank you, and so what if he gets to drink more wine because of it.
And his fucking knee feels better. His medication works, but the cane helps the most. Ted and Keeley had told him ever since his initial injury to be kind to himself, to rest when needed, and to not be a stupid stubborn prick about his health. This mindset turns out to have a few merits, and maybe it’s even a good habit he can teach his kids.
It says a lot about him, this cane that accompanies a man in his forties. He needs it because he was a professional footballer who injured himself preventing a goal in one last game. Who needed surgery cause his energetic maniac of a son ran into him. Whose wife told him to use it with pride, because he’s Roy fucking Kent and his family and friends love him so screw everyone else. Whose coach used it as a tool to force positivity onto Roy, whose team and kids decorated it with messages of love and smiley faces and the two worst signatures he’s ever seen (though he credits Oliver and Lily for trying). It’s a symbol of persistence, of the pain he’s endured, of those who rallied behind him.
Roy Kent. Married to Keeley Jones. Father of Oliver and Lily. Coach at Richmond AFC.
And he happens to use a cane.
#roy kent#ted lasso#ted lasso fanfic#keeley jones#roy kent x keeley jones#keeley x roy#roy x keeley fanfiction#roy x keeley fanfic#roy x keeley#ted lasso fanfiction#ted lasso imagine#roy kent fanfic
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Fanfic writer ask: 9 please!
9. What's a scene you wrote this year that you're particularly proud of?
oh the first thing that popped into my mind was DEFINITELY the barn raising metaphor speech from my ted lasso 2x08 tag fic aptly titled 'barn raising'. it's a bit long but i'm gonna paste it under a cut anyway because i really, REALLY did love how it turned out.
“Y’know,” Ted says eventually, his hands clasped between his legs and elbows propped on his thighs, the casual posture visible in Jamie’s peripheral vision, “back home where I’m from, we got a thing we call a barn raising.”
Jamie doesn’t say anything. He glances over and up, enough to see Ted’s face, and frowns a little, but doesn’t speak. By that point he’d almost assumed that the speech he tends to prepare for on default when he sees Ted just wasn’t coming this time. Apparently he’d been wrong.
Unbothered by the lack of verbal response, Ted just keeps talking with that slow, steady drawl that had made him sound like a cartoon character at first but has come to be something Jamie relies on as an indicator that everything is okay. (Ted is good at this. Talking when other people don’t want to, or can’t. Right now, Jamie’s grateful for it.)
“Back in the day when things were done a little different and most folks not right in the city lived on farms and such, barns, right, they were real important. When someone needed one, or when theirs was burned down or damaged somehow and needed replacing, they couldn’t often get it done on their own. It was too big a job. Too much for one family to manage. They needed help.”
As Ted talks, he shifts where he sits and reaches an arm out and around behind Jamie, slow enough he can see it coming thanks to how close they’re sitting. It settles, warm and gentle, high on his right shoulder, the one closer to the bannister so that an arm is laid lightly over his back. Jamie doesn’t quite flinch when he’s touched, not all the way, but he shivers at the contact, too obviously for Ted not to have noticed, even if he weren’t the kind of person who notices everything. He has to notice, but he doesn’t say anything about it, not making a fuss over the reaction or pulling his hand back. After a moment’s pause, palm pressed lightly to Jamie’s shoulder, Ted’s grip solidifies and he just keeps talking.
“So when it came time, the whole community’d turn up.” There’s a smile in Ted’s voice, and even though he’s not looking at him anymore, Jamie can picture the look on his face clear as anything. There’d be some soft grin under his ridiculous moustache, his eyes shining with that kind of proud affection that always made Jamie walk a little taller when it was trained on him. “Older folks, younger folks, the kids even. Everyone would show up, get the lumber and the plans together, everything they needed, and in just a day or two, they’d raise up a barn.”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion of the day and the one that came before it, maybe it’s the storyteller’s rumble of Ted’s voice, but Jamie finds himself leaning to the side a little. He pulls his feet up higher on the stair they’ve been propped out on, wrapping his arms around his knees and letting his head drop down onto them. Gradually and without stopping himself, Jamie drifts farther and farther to the side until he’s tentatively, cautiously leaning against Ted’s leg.
Ted lets him. The hand on Jamie’s shoulder gives a little rub, then stills again.
“It was a celebration, of a kind, too. Bit of a party. People would bring food.”
From where they sit on the staircase, Jamie has a decent vantage point on most of the house and the movement going on in it. He watches through tired, half-lidded eyes as Moe passes one of the plates Higgins had dropped off to Colin, who takes it with a ‘ta, mate’ and a grin. The glass in the yard must be taken care of because Colin and Isaac are back inside now, the towels Jamie had set out for them around Isaac’s shoulders and tossed over Colin’s head in a goofy imitation of a nun’s habit.
“There would be music and dancing, when they’d finished with their work.”
There’s a little Bluetooth speaker on the kitchen counter, one Keeley had set up there at some point, playing some ditzy pop song from the radio. It filters through the air with the volume at a subdued level. They’re barely visible through the doorway, but Jamie catches a glimpse of Keeley’s face going bright and excited when she recognizes the song. Dani takes her hand and twirls her around and they both laugh.
“People who knew what they were doing would do the hard parts, y’know. The complicated stuff, the things you needed skill for. But everyone pitched in, didn’t matter if they knew their way around carpentry or whatever. Everybody helped.”
Thierry has his arms folded over his chest, observing the use of the tools Moe and Sam had brought with them in the van, the result of a trip to a hardware store, to patch the hole that had been punched in the drywall. He doesn’t seem impressed with what he’s seeing. With a slow drift of his head side to side in a despairing shake, Thierry clucks his tongue and looses a string of French at Jan and Richard, only one of whom understands before he switches over to English to explain what they were doing wrong.
“They didn’t do it cause they were paid. They didn’t do it cause they were obligated. They didn’t do it cause it was their farm, or their barn. They did it on account of community. Because that’s what it meant to take care of your own.”
Pausing at that point of the little speech he’s been making, deftly taking Jamie apart piece by piece with the kind of brutal kindness that has always been the one thing Jamie didn’t have a defence for, Ted sighs. His hand slips up from Jamie’s shoulder to the side of his neck, thumb skimming his hairline. Prompted by that hand or by the pointed lesson he’s meant to be learning here or by the oppressive crush of years of exhaustion, Jamie leans harder to the side, folding his arms tighter. His head is less propped on his own forearms now and more leaning against Ted’s knee. The way Ted slides his hand over the back of Jamie’s head, ruffling the short, buzzed section of his hair feels like approval. Like Ted is glad to have Jamie huddled up at his side, forehead pressed to his leg.
“Now,” Ted says, and despite the imminent turn from a broad anecdote about a Midwestern custom to the specifics of their present reality, his voice doesn’t go overly delicate or sensitive. He’s not treating Jamie like he’s spun glass or the subject of some maudlin animal shelter commercial, and thank fuck for that. The hand on Jamie’s neck is steady and Ted’s words are warm and solid when he continues, “I don’t know if y’all had a thing like that over here, but one thing I know for darn sure we’ve got here in Richmond is a community. And we’re a community that takes care of our own. Pickin’ up what I’m trying to lay down here?”
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Ted Lasso and Other TV Bosses We’d Walk Over Hot Coals For
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In the heady moments of celebration after England’s victory over Denmark in this year’s Euros semi-final, the sight of team manager Gareth Southgate prompted ITV pundit Gary Neville to comment: “The standard of leaders in this country the past couple of years has been poor. Looking at that man, he’s everything a leader should be: respectful, humble, he tells the truth.”
The former Man U right-back’s words, directed at the political rulers of a country riven by Brexit, tap into a modern craving for decency. Fed a diet of self-serving narcissism from our public figures, we hunger for more wholesome fare: moral character, humility, honesty, kindness. In the year of horrors that was 2020, that appetite was temporarily sated on TV by fictional football manager Ted Lasso.
Played in the Apple TV series by Jason Sudeikis (who, in true Ted style, wore a shirt to the Ted Lasso season two launch in support of the three young Black England footballers who received racist abuse after their team’s eventual loss to Italy in the final), Ted’s thoroughgoing decency won everyone over to The Lasso Way. He’s the gold standard of TV bosses – selfless, caring, wise, inspirational, and patiently dedicated to bringing out the best in his players and the team as a whole. He may not always win on the pitch, but he always wins in our hearts. And if those words make you want to heave, then you, friend, may just need a little more Lasso in your life. #Believe.
To celebrate his return, we present Ted’s TV peers, the bosses for whom you’d go any number of extra miles.
Leslie Knope – Parks & Recreation
There is no finer example set in the TV workplace than Leslie Barbara Knope. The Pawnee public servant leads from the front, the sides and the back. She’s the waffle-powered sheepdog of City Hall, yapping co-workers and townsfolk into shape with her relentless work ethic and bottomless optimism. Leslie’s a boss who cares so much that she’s already bought your Christmas gift. And your birthday gift. And made you a special hand-crafted gift to mark the half-year anniversary of the day you first met. She sleeps three hours a night, runs entirely on sugar (or should that be salgar?), has a binder for every eventuality, and always, always has your back. Her rubber-soled energy is so infectious that over seven seasons she even manages to motivate the lazy (Tom), disaffected (April), dumb (Andy), aloof (Donna), hapless (Jerry) and the downright obstructive (Ron). For a gal named ‘nope’, she’s a whole lot of yes. LM
Bertram Cooper – Mad Men
Technically, advertising firm Sterling Cooper on Mad Men has two bosses – Roger Sterling and Bertram Cooper. Coop, however, is the let’s say…more experienced of the two and takes on the role of boss. And what a boss he is! The eccentric office sage played by Robert Morse takes a decidedly hands off approach to managing the workplace. Do whatever you want in this Madison Avenue ad agency, as long as you take your shoes off when you enter Bert’s office. And if you’re nice enough he might show you his collection of erotic octopus art. AB
Jacqueline Carlyle – The Bold Type
The Editor-In-Chief of Scarlet magazine, the women’s title at the heart of ridiculous millennial wish fulfillment vehicle The Bold Type is part mentor, part mother figure, part fairy godmother to the three young women at the centre of the show. Jane is an intern when she first meets Jacqueline, who greets her with “Are you a writer? You look like a writer.” Because, yep, it really is that easy to get a job at a top magazine. The Bold Type is nonsense but it’s very good hearted nonsense which tries in earnest to tackle big issues while maintaining a sunny outlook. Be yourself, be passionate, be bold, the show says, and the world is at your feet. Sent a couple of tweets? Congratulations, have a promotion! Threatened with a lawsuit because of something you wrote? No bother, have a promotion! Fraudulently passed yourself off as a stylist when you’re not, thereby ruining a key relationship? Meh. Promotion for you! Promotions all round! Jacqueline is glamorous and wise, endlessly patient with her proteges and seemingly in possession of a bottomless budget. We all wish we worked for Jacqueline and she’s a wonderful (imaginary) role model. We’re just slightly nervous for any young fans of the show who ever get to work for an actual, real life Editor-In-Chief… RF
Mr. Krabs – SpongeBob SquarePants
Mr. Krabs is a good boss because he’s refreshingly upfront about what matters to him. Simply put: the crab likes money. As long as you’re putting in the hours and keeping the profit margins fat, Mr. Krabs will be your best friend. Sure, he takes advantage of SpongeBob’s naivete from time to time. But deep down, you know the guy has a heart as big as his enormous whale daughter, Pearl. AB
Supt. Ted Hastings – Line of Duty
Think of Ted Hastings, head of Central Police’s Anti-Corruption Unit 12, as Ulysses – a man sailing on dangerous waters but so determined not to be seduced by the sirens’ song that he’s tied himself to the ship’s mast and stopped his ears with wax. Except replace ‘siren’s song’ with ‘bungs from criminal gangs’, and ‘ship’s mast’ and ‘wax’ with ‘sheer force of will, son’. Ted’s a colossus of integrity in a world of backhanders and turning-a-blind-eye. He does the right thing even when it’s the hard thing, and if you’re one of his officers, then you’re his for life. (Unless you’re a corrupt gangster plant, in which case, by Mary, Joseph and the wee donkey, he’ll never live down the shame.) Ted may have more decency in his side-parting than most officers have in their whole bodies, but he still has his flaws. The stock he puts in loyalty makes him inflexible, and his temper’s a thing to be seen, but the key thing about Ted as a leader is that when he makes a mistake, he owns up to it. We should all be so lucky to have a gaffer like him. LM
Ron Donald – Party Down
Starz’s brilliant comedy Party Down premiered around the same time as classic NBC sitcom Parks and Recreation. As such, Ken Marino’s perpetually stressed boss character Ron Donald didn’t get nearly as much attention as another boss named Ron: Ron Swanson. Let’s be clear, however, nobody would want Ron Swanson as a boss because that means you’d have to regularly interact with a libertarian. Instead, it’s far better to be in the good graces of Ron Donald. This Ron will support your dreams all the while telling you about his own to own a Souper Crackers franchise. AB
Read more
TV
Press Gang: How Steven Moffat’s First Show Shaped a Generation
By Rosie Fletcher
TV
Party Down: a US sitcom that richly deserves your time
By Louisa Mellor
Lynda Day – Press Gang
Bit of of a niche one – you probably have to be British and in your 40s to even know who this is – but Lynda Day, played by Julia Sawalha deserves a mention as the youngest boss on the list. Editor of the Junior Gazette, the after school newspaper run by pupils at the heart of Steven Moffat’s very first show she’s an erudite journalist, a ruthless news hound and a self possessed young woman who cares more about being right than about being liked. Lynda isn’t particularly soft or warm but she is a boss who would make you a better writer. You’d strive to please Lynda, want to live up to her incredibly high standards and know that the work you were doing on the paper could actually make a difference. Lynda is all about work ethic and integrity. Small of frame, sharp of tongue, you wouldn’t wanna mess with her, but you know she’ll get shit done. RF
Captain Holt – Brooklyn 99
It says something about a boss when you wouldn’t just walk over hot coals for them, you would also do it for their pet dog. Cheddar the corgi is just one of many reasons to snap your sharpest salute to Captain Raymond “Do Not Call Me Ray Or Use Contractions In My Presence” Holt. Precinct captain of the 99, Holt is a walking yardstick of fine taste, good manners, linguistic clarity and grammatical coherence. Holt values simplicity and despises vulgarity. Do your job and do it right, and you will earn his hard-won respect, perhaps indicated by a very slight incline of the head if he is feeling frivolous. Holt has already earned your respect, for leading an exemplary career as an openly gay NYC cop since 1987, facing down racists, homophobes and the lowest of the low: people who use “What’s up?” as a greeting. Captain Holt’s impossibly high standards are a bar few reach, but to which we can all aspire. LM
Ian Grimm and Poppy Li – Mythic Quest
Mythic Quest creative directors Ian Grimm (Rob McElhenney) and Poppy Li (Charlotte Nicdao) are messes on their own. But when their personalities combine, they create one great boss unit who keeps things moving and keeps things lively. Granted, I wouldn’t want to work for Ian and Poppy as a programmer or dev on the Mythic Quest team because crunch is real (and I also have no such skills). They would make for a great boss team in just about any other industry though. AB
DCI Cassie Stuart – Unforgotten
Some bosses try to impress their status on employees by turning up the volume, but not DCI Cassie Stuart. Everything she does in ITV police drama Unforgotten, from case meetings to suspect interrogations, she does in the same controlled, low voice. It gives her words an intensity that shouting wouldn’t achieve and makes her cold-case murder team lean in to absorb the significance of what she’s saying. Usually, that’s on the theme of how they owe victims answers and are going to find them. Diligent and dedicated, she trusts her team, especially partner Sunny, and is the kind of boss whose praise really means something. A ‘good work’ from her and you’d be walking on air. LM
Conan O’Brien – Conan
This is technically violating the spirit of this thought exercise because Conan O’Brien is not fictional. What he is, however, is a boss…in both the metaphorical and literal sense of the word. No late night talk show host has ever reveled in being the boss of a staff as much as Conan O’Brien has on his shows like Late Night, The Tonight Show, and Conan. He views his role as boss as an opportunity to troll his employees like a corny father torturing his children with dad jokes. Many of Conan’s behind the scenes workers have become stars in their own right, like producer Jordan Schlansky or assistant Sona Movessian. And it’s all because Conan can’t help but want everyone to be involved and having a good time. Just like any great boss would want. AB
Captain Janeway – Star Trek Voyager
Anyone can be a good boss in a thriving workplace, but it takes a person of strong character to stay empathetic, decisive, and focused when everything goes to hell. In the very first episode of Star Trek: Voyager, Captain Janeway is stranded with her crew on the wrong side of the galaxy, 70,000 light years from home. She is tasked with getting not only her Starfleet crew home, but also the remaining members of the Maquis vessel Voyager was trying to capture when they were both pulled into the unexplored Delta quadrant. She does this all without the institutional support of the Federation, and without the certainty that they will ever make it back. It’s not always pretty, and Janeway makes some questionable decisions along the way, but it’s hard to imagine Voyager making it home without Janeway as their tough-as-nails boss. KB
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Ted Lasso Season 2 is available now on Apple TV+
The post Ted Lasso and Other TV Bosses We’d Walk Over Hot Coals For appeared first on Den of Geek.
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