#the real love story of ted lasso

[faramirsonofgondor]

Not enough people talk about this.

“Night Jamie.”

“A love letter?”

- 1x10 The Hope That Kills You

“We ain’t having sex, he ain’t me type. Too scratchy.��

Jamie about his relationship with coach beard.

- AFC Richmond Twitter

I can’t tell if Jamie was being sarcastic or not the first time around but I like to think that he genuinely thought Coach Beard might have a crush on him. Jamie literally says in the 2nd clip that he has no idea what goes on in Beard’s mind at any given point in time. So Jamie might actually be think “he might have a crush on me” but he would have no way of knowing. And he definitely would never ask. Even in the second clip, he says the reason they’re not having sex is that Beard isn’t Jamie’s type. Which implies that if he was Jamie’s type they would be having sex… Which is just so…. Jamie of him.

Anyways I take this as proof that Jamie has no qualms about fucking his coaches so long as they’re his type. And his type is Roy. Therefore Jamie and Roy are fucking.

I don’t make the rules sorry not sorry!

[sagevalleymusings]

Ted Lasso is an extremely subtle and nuanced show that we don't deserve and I'm going to defend a character I hate to prove it

So the series finale of Ted Lasso aired last night and I went out of my way to watch it even though I don't have a Hulumaxflix plus account, because I have utterly adored this whole season. I have seen a lot of disappointed fans and negative takes, even outside of the "it's woke now" brigade, and I disagree with pretty much all of the analyses I've seen so far. People are disappointed at the Tedbecca tease that never panned out, they're disappointed Jamie is talking to his dad again, they're disappointed all this stuff they wanted to happen didn't happen, tale as old as time. But I think the issue here is that Ted Lasso is written in the style of a daytime tv comedy while actually being an extremely heartfelt and pained letter to an abusive father that one of our writer was never able to send.

Co-creator and star Jason Sudeikis has gone on record saying the show is about bad dads. And we see examples of this all over the place. Some are more subtle than others.

But the problem with subtle shows is that you have a very wide audience to appeal to. I have seen and dare I say it even enjoyed both Primer and Groundhog Day. But trying to apply the time travel logic of the former to the latter just because they're both time travel movies would be folly. And this is how I feel about Ted Lasso. It has a lot of similarities to a style of show which is usually nowhere near this deep and it makes people expect something of it that it isn't providing. 

How do you know I'm not talking out my ass? Jack Danvers.

I hate Jack Danvers. We get a fucking lesbian for a change and she's an abusive cowardly closeted slut shaming piece of shit.

I love Jack Danvers. Because I knew she was 1) Keeley's financer and 2) a lesbian in under ten seconds of meeting this person, having seen only her shoes.

Jack is quiet and possibly even a little uncomfortable chatting with Keeley in the bathroom. But Keeley's so charming and open that you can't help but appreciate the quiet bonding moment it turns into.

But I've definitely been there. Women are so comfortable talking to each other in the bathroom and it makes me so uncomfortable. There have been so many times I have been made to feel unwelcome in this space and you want to have a chat...  Please go away.

Once it's revealed this is in fact Jack, it comes as a minor shock that Jack is a woman actually. Why is her name Jack if she's a woman?

It's because "my father wanted a boy."

Jack is one of Jason's "bad dad" characters. Which means her actions are a reflection of her childhood environment in a very pronounced way. Slowly but surely, we learn that Jack believes love is conditional.

Jack introduces us to the concept of love bombing and I think because the relationship progresses past that point, the audience is encouraged to forget this, but… love bombing isn't just new relationship energy. It's an abuse tactic. And we're told pretty explicitly that it's an abuse tactic because the person telling us about it is Rebecca, regarding her shitty and manipulative ex husband.

That Jack's relationship starts on this beat is noteworthy, because it sets up the dynamic that Jack believes she can only retain Keeley's affection if she buys it. Why does she think that?

Moving forward, we start to lapse into a false sense of security as Jack loudly proclaims their love in front of the whole office and is planning on showing Keeley off, only to have the rug ripped out from us the second something even slightly bad happens. 

But it isn't Jack's decision to make Keeley read out that apology and then pull funding when she refuses. Not if we're to believe Jack's word on it at least. It was "the board" whoever that is.

Jack peaces out to Argentina before the final shoe can drop, and it displays lastly an absolute cowardice on her part that she didn't even give Keeley the satisfaction of a break up. 

All of this combined makes me realize though that the sudden scrambling retreat is literally the other side of love bombing - we didn't drop that plot point just because we stopped talking about it. The motivations for both actions come from the same place. Jack believes love is conditional. She feels that she must earn Keeley's affection, and sees nothing wrong with withdrawing her own if Keeley doesn't do the same. And also, the actions of her partner reflecting negatively on her means that love can be withdrawn *from her* if she doesn't bow to pressure from those whose respect she's trying to maintain. 

The coming out moments in parallel with this lens are stark. Coming out to the office wasn't just about being open -it was about speed running earning Keeley's love and trust with grand acts of affection. And there are no consequences to coming out to people that far beneath you socially. Jack owns the HR firm that KJPR… might not have? Meanwhile her old college friend does matter. And when Keeley was a successful business woman to show off, that would have been fine. But now that she's part of a scandal? They're just friends. It serves her to come out to the firm in the interest of gaining Keeley's love, and it serves her to keep it hidden from her college friend, to avoid messy questions later that might make her look bad.

With her very name, Jack has been taught that there's a version of herself other people want her to be that she's incapable of reaching. And absolutely nothing we see from her suggests she's worked to unpack that trauma.

Jack is a minor character - a brief love interest in Keeley's life. But her decisions are deliberate and weighty. The good and bad moments are both informed by the same parental trauma, and the writers stick to it. They're true to character, even if it's "bad representation," even if it's not what fans want.

So let's talk about Tedbecca. I will reiterate that this show is about "bad dads" and more broadly about the ways in which who our parents are and how they raised us results in intergenerational trauma that's difficult to disrupt.

Ted and Rebecca are foils for each other. They both have absent fathers (eventually even they both have dead fathers) and they both have emotionally controlling mothers (more on that in a moment). They both are starting a new chapter in their lives because of a divorce, and family is an important component of that divorce. 

And they are both responding to their trauma, especially in early episodes, the way they've always been taught to respond to that trauma. Rebecca schemes vengefully while pretending everything is fine on the outside because she's been taught that the people in her back will not support her. Her mother put up with shitty behavior from her father for years. Then when her father left, her mother turned into a flighty unreliable hypochondriac. She doesn't want to allow Rupert the same power over her, so she reacts like a cornered tiger.

But at the end of the day, what she wants is a family, and in a lot of ways Ted can't give her that. Is Ted going to have one child in America and another in Britain and split his time between the two? Does that sound like the kind of thing Ted would be willing to do? Nor do I think it's what Rebecca really wants because her desire for family isn't just about having a child, but having a stable family unit to come back to, one she didn't really have growing up. Maybe you could see them hooking up, but by the time their relationship has progressed that either of them could have, they've both grown past the desire to do so. Tedbecca isn't endgame because Rebecca needs someone calm and warm and relaxed to come home to, in contrast to her childhood being a parent to her mother, or the cat and mouse dance with her ex husband.

But Ted isn't much better. We see that his father's suicide soured their relationship, but holy crap do I want to talk about Ted's mom.

In every single scene that Ted and his mom are interacting in right up to the blowout fight, she is guilting him into behaving a particular way. She says he "was born nice" but in reality it's obvious that he's extremely used to having to guess at what someone wants and bend his life around that. Ted's mom wants to visit him so *waits around his apartment* until he notices and offers her a place to stay. Ted's mom wants to sleep in the bed while insisting otherwise (but immediately starts having specific plans about what that means re: suitcases don't go on the bed). Ted's mom wants to go to the game and Ted doesn't insist she go, so she sends a text saying she wishes she were there. It is a relentless barrage of emotional abuse.

No wonder Ted is so sensitive to the lies she's telling people, also the whole time. How many fights have they had where he's done something because she asked him to, only for her to turn around and say "I never asked for that" and have that technically be true? And in fact we are explicitly told in the blow out that she responded to her *husband's suicide* by pretending everything was normal.

And then, finally, we get the truth. She's not there because she wanted to visit London (a thing she said explicitly which turns out was also a lie). She's there to guilt Ted into coming home by using his guilt over leaving his son. Is Ted… also a bad dad?

Ted's entire generous, forgiving personality was shaped by these two parents. One, who was a good man despite making what I would say is the only unforgivable act of selfishness, and the other, who is a manipulative woman who demands generosity from the people around her despite never overtly saying such.

Ted isn't just forgiving of Beard because of the guilt and anger over his father's death. He's also willing to go the extra mile for people because he thinks it's his job. 

Ted leaves for Richmond because his wife wants space, but in a lot of ways it's also an act of selfishness. After all, his ex wife says that she didn't want them to take a break, she wanted to know that Ted would fight for their relationship. And he doesn't - in fact he does the opposite. We now have context to know that asking for something without really asking for it explicitly is a trigger for Ted. So he sees what looks like the emotional manipulation of his mother coming from his wife, panics, and runs as fast and as far away from the situation as he can.

That Ted could never be in a relationship with his boss. Tedbecca isn't endgame because Ted needs a relationship where he can be selfish. 

And I think, genuinely, that all of this is intentional on the part of the writers. A relationship with Ted and Rebecca could never have been healthy, because they are the same character, but one of them is fight and the other is flight.

This show is so, so smart. And I think it's absolutely tragic how much of that smartness is missed because we aren't used to shows with this level of carefully crafted nuance. My god, the scene where Nate comes out of his room and the first shot is an all white hallway with absolutely no distinguishing features? My god. The flex of having the characters singing, and you can hear them walking off, Dani is literally getting louder as he gets closer to the camera! That's studio audio because their breathing doesn't line up with the dancing, but it sure sounds like it was recorded on a soccer pitch. I looked up the name of Keeley's form because I distinctly remember the last scene *not* saying KJPR and turns out in a blink and you'll miss it moment, she changed the name to KBPR to honor the fact that Barbara stood by her when Jack pulled funding.1

I could go on and on and on. There's so many moments where the writers just jam packed meaning and nuance to bursting in this show. 

In the "morning after" scene in the series finale, Ted is wearing a KC shirt, specifically a KC Current shirt, which is a women's professional soccer team. That says a lot all on its own for that being the shirt

In fact, Ted wears a lot of KC shirts on the show. He wears Richmond shirts… when he's at work. 

There's a lot more I could say, and maybe even will. I want to give the jamie/keeley/roy OT3 another look from the top at some point. But I just wanted to get something topical out quickly, because good shows deserve to be showered in praise, and I really think the negative publicity on Ted Lasso specifically is an absolute crime. We can't expect to see writers take a chance on something this detail oriented and nuanced again any time soon if we just skip all the nuance and get mad they didn't doll smash our favorite characters together.

[lunar-years]

I wouldn't say Ted Lasso did any of its abuse/abuse recovery narratives "well" but I do think they did parts of all of them like really well, which is what makes it all so incredibly frustrating. Like, showing how hard it can be to intervene by having the Diamond Dogs be avoidant and non-confrontational despite their mutual concern about Beard's relationship with Jane, but then having Higgins step up and say something anyway (and even though Beard didn't take his advice, it still felt like okay, this is a good, this is a realistic and messy and complicated narrative to tell that nevertheless highlights the importance of speaking up and being there for your friends even if it doesn't always work out how you'd planned), having Beard & Roy jump in to help Jamie at Wembley and Roy respond so well to Jamie's story in Amsterdam, humanizing Rupert in International Break and giving the backstory for why Rebecca fell in love with him and offering them a moment of real connection again without once pushing the narrative that he should be forgiven or that Rebecca even considers for a second taking him back...all that shit was GOOD!!! it was really nuanced and complex and good!! andddd then it ended with the BeardJane wedding, a James Tartt Sr. forgiveness agenda and Rupert morphing immediately into an over-the-top cartoon villain like what 😭 they had the capacity...and yet!!! nooooooo.

[elloras]

Very relevant little story for Roy (and Jamie.)

Transcript:

Brett: There's a footballer that I spoke to in kind of researching this before I played Roy, and he told me this story that I always think about. 'Cause he -- I know this guy, and he's lovely, he's a lovely guy, but, when he played football, he was a captain, and he told me like, his job was...his job was to (*laughs*) be good at football, but it was also to scare people. He was like, you want people, when they're coming towards you with the ball, that they're scared. That they're thinking uh-oh, I'm about to face him. And he told me this story, of when he was like an aging footballer, when he was in his last few years, he was about to play a game, the teams were on the pitch, sort of warming up before the game, and there's this young kid, like an 18-year-old, making his debut on the other team. And the kid sort of comes over to him, really nervous, and he says, "Hey man, I'm so sorry to interrupt, I just want to say, hello, I have your poster on my wall, you're a legend, you've been my favorite footballer since I was a kid." And my guy, turns to the kid and he goes, *deeper, snarly Roy Kent voice* "Who the fuck are you? I don't fucking know you." Because he's about to play him in a game, and the kid was so shocked and horrified like "Oh god, oh god!" And [the footballer] said, and yeah, we won the match that day. And I was like, it's such an interesting story, like you know... 'Cause I know the guy in real life he'd have been so flattered like "Oh wow! That's very nice, thank you." But, "Not today. Not when I'm playing you, son." Interviewer: Feels like Roy would do that. Brett: Absolutely he would! Yeah.

Source

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

We’ll Always Have Chelsea

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, extremely protective father, angst, maybe some slut-shaming

A/N: Thank you for all the love you've shown this story! Let's consider this a "mid-season finale" of sorts. I'm currently working on the second half of this story, and once it's complete I'll resume posting it. Feel free to send asks and questions about the Chelsea!Roy universe in the meantime; it seriously keeps me motivated!

(And thank you to @kissykissymouth for the chapter title!)

“Let’s go, Roy-o!” you shrieked from your seat as the announcers called his name in those booming voices that echoed through the stadium.

Katie rolled her eyes playfully as she clapped along with the roaring crowd. “You are the most obvious human being I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I can afford to be obvious now,” you said with a smile. When Katie quirked a curious eyebrow at you, you leaned in close. “He asked me to make things official last night.” You sounded like a silly little teenage girl, all giddy and delighted over a boy, and you didn’t care one bit. “To be his girlfriend. To stay together even after I’m back at uni. That whole thing.”

Her smile was soft and genuine. “Oh, that’s so great!” she gushed as she grabbed your hand. “Now we can plan some real double dates. Go out on the town, all four of us.” Her glee faded as she studied you for a moment. “But what about your-”

“We’re telling him after the match.” For the first time since Roy climbed back out your window in the early hours of the morning, you felt confident in the idea of telling your dad. This wasn’t just a summer fling anymore; it was something real, something that would hopefully last.

And your dad was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

Katie let out a low whistle. “Well, good luck with that,” she hummed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Let me know if you need help planning Kent’s funeral.”

You gave her a friendly shove and turned your attention back to the pitch, not bothering to hide the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Roy. In a few hours, your dad would know, and there would be no reason to keep anything a secret from anyone. You’d be able to come to every match and proudly wear Roy's name on your back, the way all the wives and girlfriends did, and wrap your arms around him when he emerged fresh from the showers. He could take you to post-match celebrations and charity events and any of the fabulous places a fella like him would take his girl. And you’d be able to bring him home, have him spend time with your family, properly introduce him to your mates.

As long as your dad didn’t kill Roy first.

~

After the match- a flawless 4-0 Chelsea victory, much to your relief- you lingered by Katie’s side to wait for the men to come out of the changing room. When was the last time your palms were this sweaty or your heart raced this fast? Every time a player walked out the door, your mouth went dry, wondering when it would be Roy. Somehow, you just knew that his sparkling brown eyes would be enough to calm all your nerves.

Jules emerged with a smirk on his face. After kissing his wife, he quirked an eyebrow at you. “Kent’s pretty jealous.”

“What makes you say that?” you huffed, pretending you weren’t utterly pleased at the mere mention of Roy's name.

Jules tugged on the sleeve of your kit playfully. “Apparently he doesn’t like that you wore my kit instead of his today.” He quirked his eyebrow. “Mumbled something about his girlfriend being unsupportive already.” His eyes shifted to a grinning Katie before returning to you. “Want to explain to me why the hell Kent’s calling you his girlfriend, princess?”

“Because she fucking is.” Roy smirked down at you, his fingertips twitching as he shot you a wink. “And at our next match, there better be a six on your back, gorgeous.”

You beamed up at him. “You were great today, Kent.” Fuck, you wished you could grab him and kiss that smirk. Next time, you promised yourself as the two of you batted your eyes at each other, probably making the married couple roll their own eyes. Next time you’d be wearing his kit, and you’d be able to greet him with a girlish squeal and a kiss. You’d get to finally be Roy Kent’s girl.

All you had to do was break the news to your dad.

“Your dad’s already in his press conference,” Roy murmured with raised eyebrows. “Should we… go wait in his office?”

There was that dryness in your throat again. “Yeah,” you managed, blinking rapidly. “Guess we should.” You offered Katie and Jules a tight smile. “We’ll see you guys later.”

“Good luck,” Katie called in a sing-song voice as you and Roy turned to walk down to the coaching offices.

Sure enough, your dad’s office was empty and dark. You flipped on the light and turned on his television, greeted by his face as he sat in front of the crowd of reporters. His normally stern expression was relaxed as he answered questions about the match, clearly glowing from such a great win. If there was ever a day to tell him that you were dating his completely off-limits star midfielder, it was today.

Roy leaned against the edge of your dad’s desk, next to the framed photo of you and your brother that sat by your dad’s computer. Roy took your hand and tugged you to stand close to him, pressing the tiniest kiss to your temple as his thumb stroked the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered.

You gulped and nodded, keeping your eyes trained on your dad’s face. “I know.”

“-performed very well today,” your dad was saying as he picked up the water bottle that sat beside a microphone. “For goodness’ sake, the man scored two goals today. Don’t know what all this is about a slump. I hope all the fellas fall into this kind of a slump.” He chuckled good-naturedly and pointed off-camera. “Next question.”

“Moving on from today’s match,” a cautious voice called out. “Coach, what d’you have to say about those photos of Roy Kent and…” The reporter cleared his throat. “… your daughter?”

For a moment, your father’s face was bright red as he set down the unopened water bottle. “I’m sorry?”

Your blood ran cold while the reporter continued. “There are photos of them at a casino. They were with, uh, Jules and his wife.” He cleared his throat again. “They were quite cozy.”

“Fuck.” Roy squeezed your hand and tore his eyes away from the television. “I-”

“I don’t comment on my players’ private lives.” Your dad’s jaw was tight as he sat up at his full height. “Especially Roy Kent.” His laugh rang hollow in your ears. “If I commented on every rumor about that kid’s love life, I’d never have time to manage this team.” He moved to stand, not quite looking at the camera. “Now, if there’s no more football-related questions, I think we’re done here.”

Roy let out a low growl and switched the telly off. “Well, fuck.”

“You should leave,” you murmured, looking into Roy’s panicked eyes. “Seriously, Roy. This is so much worse than we thought. It might be better if you go.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no.” He let go of your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. “We said we’re doing this together,” he said slowly. “So, we’re doing this together. I’m not going to be the kind of prick who runs away when things get hard.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “And this is going to be so fucking hard.”

The two of you flinched when you heard doors slam and feet stomping. Instinctively, Roy removed his hand from your hip, but he stayed close enough for you to feel his warmth. A smart move, you had to admit. A smarter move would be for him to run away from Stamford Bridge altogether, to never speak to you again, but you were glad he stayed. Something besides fear swelled in your heart when you realized that Roy was sticking by your side, even in the face of your father.

Your father, whose raised voice you could hear down the hall. “Where the hell is my kid? And where the fuck is Kent?”

Your entire body trembled as his footsteps came closer, finally stopping in front of the open door of his office. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of you, standing far too close to Roy Kent in the office that held framed photos of your childhood and crayon drawings from over a decade ago. He stormed in, ignoring you in favor of grabbing Roy by his t-shirt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kent?” he barked. “All the fucking models and actresses in London, and you decide to shag my daughter?”

Roy shook his head frantically, hands up in defense. “Coach, it’s not like that-”

“Get the fuck out, Kent.” He released Roy and pointed to the door. “Before I take a real good look at your contract.”

You found your voice. “Daddy,” you said shakily. “Roy’s not going anywhere.” You reached down and intertwined your fingers with Roy's, ignoring the player's wide eyes. “We’re dating, Dad. Me and Roy.” You gave Roy’s hand a squeeze. “We-”

“One rule.” Your dad’s voice was low, filled with anger. “I had one rule for you hanging around here. No. Footballers.” He pointed at Roy. “Especially that one.” He shook his head at you. “What were you thinking?"

“I’m thinking I care about Roy and he cares about me.” You gripped Roy’s hand like it was a lifesaver. “And I’m thinking I’m an adult. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Your dad’s eyes were full of rage and pain as he stared at you, looking at you like you were a complete stranger. “You’re sure acting sixteen, sneaking around behind my back.” He shook his head, eyeing Roy with disgust. “But you’re right. You’re apparently all grown up now. Do what the fuck you want.” He grabbed his bag from behind his desk and made his way to the door. “Besides, you’ll be back at school soon enough.” His gaze was steely, lacking any of the usual affection he sent your way. “And Kent’ll be back to his normal self. Once you're gone, he'll be right back to his models. Maybe then you’ll realize I was right about him all along.”

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782@dd122004dd@veryprairieberry@spacecluster@dark-academia-slut@her-fandom-sanctum@wosokirby @mmmgl29 @aadu2173

[chainofclovers]

I think there’s too much on my mind in just about every category of life because trying to do my work is even more challenging than usual. My work is going fine, but I swear to god I’ll be setting out to do a task that involves checking an email for a link I needed, and then I’ll end up replying to a totally different email, and then that’ll set off a chain of 8 other things I have to write down or otherwise take care of, and I’ll be able to force myself to do maybe 3 of those, and then I look back at my other monitor and realize I still didn’t fucking get that original link. So then I get the link, I do the task. Whew, that’s done. But actually I was just doing that one very specific task so I could procrastinate on a larger, more challenging thing that I literally need to be ready to discuss with my boss in 3 hours, half an hour of which will be taken up with a meeting that could absolutely be an email, and all the time I spent doing these more minor work things while also getting distracted by the rest of my life means I really just screwed myself over.

It’s possible, of course, that this is yet another manifestation of undiagnosed ADHD or whatever. I respect those diagnoses, I respect how real ADHD is, I’ve personally never felt the need to seek anything specific w/r/t that condition…and I also wonder if I’m just too keen to distract myself even from actually sitting down and thinking about all that more seriously LOL.

And the rest of life? My marriage, my friends, my family, all the intricacies there, the very welcome obligations that nonetheless require time and thought. The election. Global conflicts/feeling sick over it. Busyness with volunteering, some of which I do both because I love it and because it feels like a carbon offset of some of the most destructive things related to corporate job. Fandom stuff (I’m still processing how I’m both excited and wary of what an s4 Ted Lasso experience will be like, and trying to actually READ INFORMATION about this “developing story” of the options being picked up and what that actually means), which as always is a source of both creative fun and community and also means exposure to some drama and bullshit, which could skitter off into a million distracting thoughts about whether my own levels of sensitivity, my relationship to my own logic, etc. are within a reasonable range for me. Health stuff, mine and others, although (thankfully!) nothing currently threatening the ability of my loved ones to stay alive. Nursing hurt feelings and the humiliation and obsessive self-questioning that always accompanies any sort of rejection, no matter how much I intellectually get it.

I always feel like I have stretches of months where things are largely going very well, my default is happiness, and then anything negative feels more like an additive, something to process, something I can accommodate because of the calm center of my foundation. And then there are little stretches like this one where my anxiety and distractability have leeched into the foundation and I have to figure out how to rebuild it. (And the weirdness of knowing that feeling sometimes lasts only a few days, sometimes much longer.)

My life is so charmed and so simple and so complicated and so privileged and so exhausting and I should really finish up this deck since I now have only 2.5 hours until I need to have something concrete for my boss.

TL;DR has anyone on this planet figured out the relationship between situational depression/anxiety and the rest of their life? 😆

[ramonaxxx]

Hey slutz ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

My name's Ramona✧˖° I'm 22 ✧˖° British✧˖°New to Tumblr✧˖°

My Requests are open baby・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・Send me anything!

What I Write ʚ♡ɞ

‎‧₊˚✧Characters✧˚₊‧

Harry Potter Universeׂ╰┈➤

Characters will be aged!

𖤐 Remus Lupin 𖤐 Sirius Black 𖤐 James Potter 𖤐 Poly!Marauders𖤐 Poly!Wolfstar𖤐 Lily Evans𖤐 Draco Malfoy𖤐 Tom Riddle𖤐Blaise Zabini𖤐 Harry Potter𖤐 Ron Weasley𖤐 Hermione Granger𖤐

✰ ✰ ✰(I will take any requests from other characters, it just won't be a guarantee I write it!)✰ ✰ ✰

Ted Lasso Universe╰┈➤

𖤐Ted Lasso𖤐Roy Kent𖤐Jamie Tartt𖤐Rebecca Welton𖤐Keeley Jones𖤐

Feel free to request characters from any other universes and if I've seen it, I'll write it .ೃ࿐

‎‧₊˚✧Story/Drabble Guidelines✧˚₊‧

☻ SMUT Including hard kink (my fave)

☻ Angst including dark themes

☻ Fluff including specific characterisation

☻ I love, love, love AU's, Rockstar stuff and anything grunge

⚠ NO incest, bestiality, r*pe, sickly fluff or stories about real people

⚠ NO REQUESTING SMUT IF YOU ARE UNDER 18

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request away my loves ࿐ྂ

[its-time-to-write]

Hi y’all! This is my last unprompted angsty fic for a little! Gonna go back to our usually scheduled hijinks that are sitting in my request pile, I wanted to do this one first. I write all these as a way to deal with things that happen in my own life, whether it’s stressing about school and work, stupid romance, great romance, family, health, whatever, and I wanted to say (yet again) thank you for all the support. Sometimes I still can’t believe that you all like what I write but hey, there ya go

It’s funny, because my most popular fics are the ones that have been written directly out of my actual life. The ones that start out hard-to-deal-with, or with real, palpable heartbreak. The endings are often different because real life isn’t guaranteed a happy ending, but I’m allowed to take the past and see what it would be like if things went differently.

My characterization of Jamie is based on the only person I’ve ever really loved, which is why I can write his voice so clearly. I first watched Ted Lasso and was surprised at how similar they were, stupid hair and all. A lot of these fics are my way of archiving our story and immortalizing parts of it, as well as reminding myself that the love was there. It didn’t last and it wasn’t supposed to, but it was there.

Now, what’s real and what’s fiction? I’ll leave that up to you to decide, but I will say that it’s more than you might think and less than you might hope for.

So if you read this current fic and think, “huh, that was a really specific premise,” well I got news for you! It is. I’m in the first part of my journey on this, the early stages, and this story is not the way I want things to go for me. But I’m hoping that by creating a good ending out of a rough beginning, I can better face whatever lies ahead for me whether I approach it on my own two feet or with the assistance of some really sick wheels.

Anyway, enjoy this or skip it, it won’t hurt my feelings!

how to love being alive

Jamie’s at training when he gets the call. He barely registers the words on the other side when he’s cursing something awful, enough to make Roy Kent blush, and saying something about an emergency before speeding out the door. He pauses for a moment to look up an address in his phone, then he’s tearing out of the parking lot in a manner that puts Colin to shame. 

To summarize, he’s not acting like himself. 

He pulls up to a chiropractor of all places and the girl at the front desk must be able to tell who he’s here for because she just points to a door down the hall. Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never moved this quick in his life and wonders if this could translate to the pitch. Sure he’s fast, but he could always be faster. 

He bursts through the door to see you borderline catatonic, staring at the floor while a doctor pats your arm. She looks at Jamie and says, “Let’s chat for a minute outside,” before he has a chance to say a single thing. Jamie can’t tear his eyes away from you as the doctor leads him out and shuts the door. 

“Thought emergency contacts were for like, hospitals and shit,” he says. 

The chiropractor shakes her head. Jamie notes that her name tag says “Dr. Hadley,” and has a vague memory of you mentioning her a few months ago. 

God, it feels like a lifetime ago. 

“We’re not confident she’s in a fit state to get herself home,” Dr. Hadley says. “Her headspace is a little messed up, which is to be expected. Usually people come to these types of appointments with some moral support.”

Jamie asks, “What kinds of appointments?” and Dr. Hadley tilts her head at him. 

“You are Mr. Tartt, aren’t you?” she asks and Jamie just scoffs because he can’t decide between responding obviously, or telling her no, he’s not Mr. Tartt, that’s his father. He’s just Jamie. 

Dr. Hadley knows who he is because she doesn’t live in a hole in the ground, so she doesn’t ask for identification. She takes his scoff as permission to keep talking, so she says, “She’s here for her MRI results. We’ve been in the process of treating a protrusion on her spine.”

Jamie is positive everyone in this office must think he’s on drugs because Dr. Hadley is talking like he’s supposed to know this, but for the life of him he knows you’d never said a thing. 

“Your girlfriend has been in a severe amount of pain over the last few months, and we’ve finally been able to see the extent of the problem. Apparently she thought it would just go away, but it never did. So now she’s here with us.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie says automatically. Because it’s true, innit? You’re not. You’ve been broken up for a month because he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t take the irritation at attending his matches and the tossing and turning in bed at night and the fact that you were wound so tight that you’d snap at the most minor offenses. 

You hadn’t been surprised when Jamie said he couldn’t do it anymore, it’s over, and at the time he had wished that you’d shown just a tiny sliver of emotion. After all, a year and two months is a long time to be with someone for you to coldly slide him his key and then turn away as though he were a stranger. 

He could have sworn there was a glimmer of tears in your eyes, but they’d looked that way for a bit now so maybe it was just allergies. There’s no reason for you to have been in the verge of tears for the entire month before the breakup, right?

Right. 

But he can’t think about that now because Dr. Hadley is frowning at him in a way that so comically reminds him of Roy’s sister that he has to bite back a laugh. 

Everything’s all twisted. 

“I certainly hope your split was amicable,” Dr. Hadley says. “You’re the only one listed as her emergency contact. She needs someone to get her home safely.”

“Right,” says Jamie. “Yes. Fuck. Right. Um, what exactly is wrong with her?” 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head. “That’s her personal information to share with you at her prerogative. And we should probably go see her, I’m sure she doesn’t want to be alone for long.”

Jamie snorts at that. This doctor doesn’t know you at all. If you’ve received any type of bad news the last thing you want is people hanging around. 

Jamie used to pride himself on being the only one you’d let into the bad-new bubble. 

You don’t count with those other people, you’d said once while wrapped around Jamie so tight he thought he’d have to call Ted to bring a crowbar. You said, I don’t have to pretend around you. I don’t ever get tired of you.

Jamie bitterly thinks that that statement turned out to be a lie, but he shakes it off because you’ve only been separated a month, and apparently he’s still your emergency contact for a doctor he didn’t know you had been seeing and fuck if you didn’t look like the most pitiful thing he’d ever seen. He’ll pretend it’s ok for as long as it takes to get you home and comfortable, and then he’s calling this office to get his number switched off. 

So he follows Dr. Hadley back into the room as she softly says your name in order to break whatever trance has you studying the carpet like your final exam is in ten minutes. 

You can barely look at her as she whispers something about going home and being gentle, to which you nod and finally look at Jamie. 

He wonders if you recognize him, because the stare you have is so vacant that you might as well be looking at a stranger. 

“Is she on drugs?” he asks because it looks like you’re on drugs. 

Dr. Hadley shakes her head and holds out her arm to help you up. “No, she’s just in a lot of pain. And emotional distress. It’s a killer combo, and she’ll need extra gentle handling for a while. No sitting for too long, no bending, no lifting. There’s a back support at the front desk for you to take.”

Jamie thinks he hears something pointed in the way Dr. Hadley says, extra gentle. What, like he doesn’t know how bad an injury can take you out? He’s in the Premier League for fuck’s sake. He knows how to deal with a strained muscle. 

Dr. Hadley transfers your arm over to Jamie’s so smoothly that he barely understands what’s happening as she ushers you both out the door, thrusting a small foam roll into Jamie’s free hand. 

“For lumbar support,” she says. “Won’t help much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Jamie’s pretty sure he’s said thanks as you climb in the car and then he’s in the drivers seat and it’s dead quiet. 

“Right,” he says to the silence. “What the fuck.”

You’re picking at your nails something fierce. Jamie has to fight the urge to take your hand in his. A month of separation is not long enough for this shit. 

“Can you just drive?” you ask in a broken voice. “I don’t want to be sitting for longer than I have to.”

There’s a new pitch in your voice, one Jamie’s never heard before, so he doesn’t argue. He doesn’t turn on the radio or a playlist or a podcast or anything, just drives in silence. He knows if it’s quiet long enough, you’ll talk. 

He’s the opposite. He doesn’t need time to crack wide open, just a kind touch or a soft glance and he’s an open book. He was always shocked how early into your relationship you’d figured that out. A soft, “What’s on your mind, Jaim?” and he was unloading about whatever stress or fear he had. 

He’s two minutes away from your flat when you break the silence. “I have gradual onset paralysis,” you say in a voice devoid of emotion. “‘Gradual onset’ means it happens over time. Paralysis means, well…paralysis.”

Jamie can hear what you’re saying and he understands it, but what catches him is the way you’re like nothing more than a hollow body. Not cracking a joke, not picking a fight. Just- empty. 

Jamie says a long and drawn out “Fuuuckk,” because what else can you say? It’s not really his business to comfort you or to pry, except he’s the one the doctor called, so he allows himself one question. 

“How did it happen?”

Last he knew, you were healthy as a horse. 

“Two disks in my spine popped,” you reply, still in that same awful emotionless voice. “They’re not really sure how, could’ve been any number of things. Anyway, it got into my nerves. And my spinal cord. And it’s messing things up and it’s only going to get worse. The scans were to see if they could operate, because sometimes you can remove the shards. Or whatever it is. But I guess they can’t, because if they tried I’d definitely be paralyzed. So all I can do now is be in pain and wait for my legs to shut down.”

Jamie doesn’t know how to respond to any of that but he’s saved from thinking of an adequate response because he’s at your flat. 

It was smart of you not to sell it when you’d moved in with Jamie. He wonders if you knew the breakup was inevitable. 

He hops out and opens the door like a gentleman, offering his hand like he’s some Mr. Darcy-type shit, except you had both agreed that Roy was Mr. Darcy and he was Bingley. So it doesn’t fit at all except as soon as you’re done clutching his hand so you can get out without unnecessary pain, his hand flexes itself like he’s in that damn movie. 

It wasn’t even a conscious choice, just a thing his hand decided to do, and he definitely thinks he’s going to have to talk to Ted about this. Or maybe Sam. Sam knows shit and is good at empathy. Maybe he’ll know what to say when your ex-girlfriend tells you she’s not going to walk ever again. 

Jamie follows you to the door as you fiddle with the lock and push it open with a sigh. For a moment he doesn’t know if he should go inside, but it smells like honey and cinnamon because it’s the beginning of fall and he thinks that he should at least make sure you’ll be alright. 

He notices you’re moving weird. All stiff, like. You’re trying to get an icepack out of the freezer but you can’t maneuver in a way that’s comfortable so Jamie grabs it and hands it to you. 

You mumble, “Thanks,” and Jamie catches a glimpse of the perpetual glimmer in your eye. 

“D’you need me to call someone?” he asks. “I can get Keeley down here. Or fucking… Ted. Or Colin.” He doesn’t say Sam, because he needs Sam. He can’t talk to Sam if he’s here with you. 

You shake your head. Jamie wonders if it hurts to talk, but he remembers how much you hate the sound of your voice when you’re crying. 

You take a slow, shallow breath to collect yourself. “I’m ok,” you finally say. “Not much anyone can do, and you’ve got training. I- I didn’t know they’d call you. I still have to switch your number with someone else. I’m probably going to ask Keeley since my family’s still far away.”

“Right,” Jamie says. Not much else to say. Except- 

“You were seeing that bone doctor when we were together, and you didn’t fucking say anything?”

It’s accusatory and he knows it, but he can’t for the life of him say it kinder. Ted’s always on about communication and shit, and that is not communication. 

You shuffle over to the couch and use it to help you lay face down in the floor. The icepack is precariously balanced on the small of your back. 

“Didn’t know how to tell you,” comes your muffled voice. “Least, I figured out how to tell you too late. What was I gonna say, ‘Sorry I’ve been a complete bitch to you for four weeks, I’ve got shit floating around in my spine that makes me hurt so bad I want to die?’ Sounds fucking stupid.”

Jamie wants to say, Swear jar because it’s a long-standing joke, but he catches the words right before they reach the tip of his tongue. 

“You could’ve said something,” he replies instead. “Chronic pain’s shit. It’s really shit and it makes you act like shit to the people you care about. It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason.” As the words are coming out of his mouth, Jamie is reminded of a time when the roles were reversed, and you were giving him the “excuse versus reason,” speech. 

You’d said, You’re dad’s an abusive prick, Jamie. Makes sense that you’d have a lot of negative emotions. 

Fuck, if only you’d said something sooner. Maybe this would be something that you’d be cracking jokes about, or Jamie would be holding your hand, or he’d be laying right next to you as he runs his fingers through your hair. 

But your muscles spasm so that thought gets banished as you bite on your forearm in an effort not to yell. 

“Fucking hell,” Jamie says. “I don’t think you’re sorted on your own. I’m calling Ted.”

He walks to the other room so he can pretend he can’t hear your protests. 

—

Ted leaves training to Roy, Beard, and Nate. What’s the point in having four coaches if one of ‘em can’t leave for family emergencies?

Sure, you’re not actually family, but that’s Ted for you. He doesn’t do casual friendships. 

Jamie is out the door like a shot as soon as Ted knocks with a “Sorry, coach,” that Ted barely has a chance to wave off. 

Ted doesn’t say much once he’s inside, just rambles on about training and Kansas and Henry. He’s clattering around in your kitchen and you can’t find it in yourself to care what he’s doing so you just keep laying on the floor, willing your back to stop hurting. 

Finally, he comes over and sets down a smoothie in a short glass with a straw. 

“It’s so you can drink it without moving,” he explains. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” you say more to the couch legs than to Ted.

He sighs from where he’s crouched down next to you. “You don’t really have a choice, darlin’. You have to do this. The question is, are you gonna go through it alone?”

You shrug as best as you’re able. 

“Wrong answer,” says Ted, standing up. “You’ve got a whole crew of people here who are gonna root for you and support you with whatever you need. All you got to do is ask, sweetheart.”

Ah, fuck, you’re crying again and Ted can definitely tell because your shoulders are shaking. He’s pretty sure you’d want to save face so he stands up and says, “Beard’s coming over after training. Says he wants to figure out how to modify your house for a wheelchair or something. Thought I’d make us all dinner so we’re not so hangry when he mentions taking an ax to anything.”

The mental image of Coach Beard chopping down your stairs is enough to make you smile a little through your tears.

—

Waiting is really shitty. Like, really shitty. Every day is the same thing: tingly legs, shooting pains, phantom cramps. The worst was when Dani and Richard were over and you stood up to get something from the fridge, and your legs decided at that moment to lose feeling. You panicked with your arms held out for balance as you swayed back and forth for a moment, willing your feet to fucking move. They did, but not before Dani and Richard were on you in a flash, ready to catch you if you fell.

“Well that was weird,” you joke in an effort to cut the tension. They laugh, but you still catch their worried glance.

“You do not have to put on a brave face for us,” Dani says. “If you want to joke, we will joke. But if you want to cry, we will cry too.”

“You can cry,” Richard says, “I will just pour more wine.”

You laugh. There’s been a steady stream of Greyhounds at your flat for the last week and a half. Everyone and their mother (quite literally) has come by to see you. Your own parents were coming in a week to stay indefinitely while you sorted things out.

You wonder if it’s easier to lose control of your legs slowly or all at once? On the one hand, you at least have notice. But on the other hand, the long, drawn-out waiting feels like slow torture. Every day you wake up from restless sleep and experimentally wiggle your toes. Every day, you check off one more box on your mental calendar as you count down to a date that doesn’t even properly exist.

The only person who hasn’t visited is Jamie. You don’t blame him, though. Keeley’s come round almost every single day and has been successfully switched to your emergency contact. She’s the one you’re calling as soon as you discover you can’t move.

You’re pretty sure it’s getting closer. Your legs fall asleep more frequently and things are all numb. It’s like you know you’re in pain, but it’s not quite registering with your nerves.

It fucking sucks.

—

You don’t believe in intuition like spirits and all that, but you believe in it in that your brain can pick up things that you couldn’t if you were actually trying.

That’s why you’re pretty sure this is it.

Walking is pretty much a no-go right now, so you stiff-leg yourself to the couch and sprawl out as comfortably as you can.

You call Keeley, and she’s over in no time.

“Hi babes,” she says as soon as she’s through the door, “Can I call Rebecca for girls’s night?”

“Sure,” you say, “Might as well live it up.”

Keeley replies, “Great! She’ll be here in ten minutes,” and you laugh, really actually laugh, because of course Keeley’s already called her.

Rebecca swoops in all smiles and no sympathy which is great because if one more person pushes their lower lip out at you, you’re going to scream. She’s brought drinks and Keeley’s pulling out snacks and you’re going to talk and giggle until you fall asleep, ready for what the morning has.

“Is Shandy making a move on that one player?” Rebecca asks Keeley from the couch. 

“Nah,” Keeley calls back, “He said he wasn’t interested right now. Still hung up, I think.”

“What player?”  you ask. You know what Shandy’s like, and you feel for the poor guy.

Rebecca and Keeley are silent before Keeley says, “You wouldn’t know him.”

“Bullshit,” you reply. “I know everyone on that team and I know you haven’t signed anyone new recently. Is it Colin?” 

Rebecca shakes her head and gives Keeley a look. Keeley shrugs. “You’re the one who brought it up, babes.”

Rebecca turns to you. “It’s Jamie,” she says. “She’s been trying to bag him ever since Zava showed up.”

You shake your head. “She’s not right for him. He deserves someone better than that.”

Keeley’s back from the kitchen and scrutinizing your expression. “And what exactly do you mean by better?” she asks.

You laugh. “Oh no, not me. I wasn’t talking about me. No, I’m not- he needs someone different. Like, I don’t know, Roy’s sister, maybe? She’s great and a doctor to boot. Very caring too.”

“You’re caring,” Keeley says slowly, “And anyway, Molly doesn’t like him like that. They’re just friends.”

“Hang on, are you putting yourself in the same bracket as Shandy?” Rebecca interjects.

You shrug. “I was a complete bitch the last month we were together. There’s no excuse for it. I’m just surprised he lasted as long as he did.”

“You were in fucking pain!” Keeley exclaims. “You said you weren’t sleeping and everything fucking hurt and you couldn’t even think straight.”

You grab a handful of candy from a bowl. “Keels, I appreciate the sentiment, but I majorly fucked it. Like, there’s no going back. So he can date whoever he wants as long as it’s not fucking Shandy. Can we please, please move on?”

Rebecca’s eyes are narrowed but they both acquiesce. “Keeley, what about your love life? I’m sure it’s boring as usual.”

Keeley shrieks and smacks her with a pillow. “Fuck off,” she replies. “I’ll have you know it’s going very well…”

—

You were right. You wake up still on the couch tangled in Keeley’s arms, and the standard toe-wiggle just… doesn’t happen. It’s quiet, the early morning type, the kind where the sunlight isn’t so harsh and birds are chirping softly and all of Richmond hasn’t quite got up to begin their day. 

As you look at your unmoving toes, the first thing you feel is a rush of relief. The waiting’s over, you think. 

You look over to the wheelchair that’s been leaning patiently against the wall all this time. Here’s the first day of forever. You’re in no rush for it to start, so you let Keeley’s little snores and Rebecca’s heavy breathing lull you back to sleep. 

—

It’s definitely a learning curve. And it’s frustrating. And if one more person catches you crying out of sheer rage, you’re going to start throwing things. But like Ted said, you don’t really have a choice. 

Your mom said, “The only way out is through,” then grinned at the murderous glare you shot her way. She opened her phone and pulled up a picture of you, age three. “Same lovely expression as always,” she remarks cheerfully. That cracks your frown. You always were a funny kid. 

It takes a while to figure out how to get places. Keeley (the absolute angel) volunteered, but she’s busy with the PR firm and quite frankly, a little too delicate to help you into a car. You made the mistake of saying this exactly one time and because subject to a rant about how she’s “not weak, just PETITE FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!”

Roy had punctuated her argument with a couple “That’s fucking right, babe"s all while rolling his eyes behind her back. It made you giggle. 

The general consensus was that at any given reasonable hour (or unreasonable if you’re Richard or Bumbercatch) a Greyhound or coach would be able to get you where you’re needed. And today, that place is Nelson Road. 

“How often does Jamie come visit?” Jan Maas asks, straightforward as ever. 

“Um, never,” you reply. “We broke up, remember?”

“Right,” agrees Jan Maas. “We all know that, I just assumed you had gotten back together.”

You laugh. How absurd. “And why on earth would you assume that?”

“Because he talks about you all the time,” comes his prompt reply. 

Huh. That’s interesting. You haven’t received so much as a single emoji from Jamie, but hadn’t thought a thing of it. But this, this is strange. This does not fit into your idea of how broken up people act. 

“Weird,” you say. “Wonder what the fuck that’s about.”

Jan Maas shrugs and moves to lift you from the car. 

—

It’s weird to be at Nelson Road, number one because it’s been FOREVER, number two because you’re eye-level with all sorts of things you’d never noticed before (ahem, part of the wall Roy kicked that no one cared to patch up), and number three because the last time you were here, it was as Jamie Tartt’s girlfriend. 

Jan holds open the door as you roll in, ready to face whatever lies in wait. 

It turns out whatever is a very excited Ted and Beard as well as a neutral Roy who present you a coaching jacket and a whistle. 

“You’re coaching with us today because that little rat bastard Nate went to the dark side,” Beard says. 

You remark, “Tell us how you really feel,” earning a snort from Roy and a chuckle from Trent Crimm. 

“Oh yeah,” Ted says, “this is Trent. He’s writing a book.”

“Cool,” you say, “but you do know I know jack shit about coaching?”

Beard shrugs. “Neither do we. Worked out pretty well so far.” That earns another snort from Roy. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I guess I’m up for anything.”

“You mean ‘down,’” says Ted. “Oh I’m sorry, is it too soon?”

“Never,” you reply. “It’s never too soon to make trauma-related puns and this world, it’s either laugh or cry. So fuck it, I’m going to laugh.”

“Fuck yes,” grunts Roy before turning on his heel to yell at the team to GET THE FUCK ON THE PITCH YOU LITTLE PRICKS!

—

You don’t do much except sit there and watch as the coaches yell and point and run drills. It’s a chore to remind yourself not to check out Jamie’s butt as he runs by so you start thinking not yours, not yours, like a mental mantra. 

He’s not looking at you so you won’t look at him and you’re sure it won’t be a problem because there are so many people to look at and talk to, except lunch rolls around (haha) and you sit at the head of a table and Jamie’s on the bench right next to you. So. There goes the no eye-contact plan. 

You take exactly two bites of your sandwich before thinking fuck this and pushing yourself back so you can roll away. You can just take the elevator to see Becca. 

You’ve made it a good way down the hall when you hear Jamie calling your name while saying, “Wait,” so you move a little faster. 

But it’s still new and you’re painfully reminded that arms are not legs so he catches you with ease. 

 “The fuck are you running away for?” he asks, and you want to point out that technically, you weren’t running. Metaphorically though, he’d be right. 

“I’m not running,” you reply. “I was just going to see Rebecca.”

“Bullshit,” he says. “I know you, and that was running. Is it because of me?”

“No,” you say, and you realize how much you’ve been looking up today. Your fucking neck needs a break so you rub it and look straight ahead, past Jamie at a life-size decal of O’Brien on the opposite wall. 

“Why would I be running away from you? You’re not- I’m the shitty ex in this situation. I’m the one who fucked things up, Jamie, so… you don’t have to like, pretend that it’s your problem. I actually think it would be better if you were just mad and avoided me instead of whatever the hell is currently happening.”

Jamie rubs his jaw. He should be exasperated, he should, but instead the gears in his mind are turning. A few words stick out to him and then it’s like the final puzzle piece has clicked into place. 

“Hang on,” he says slowly. “Hold the fuck up. Did you mess things up on purpose?”

The moment the words are out of his mouth he wants to take them back and apologize, because there’s no way they’re actually true, except you have a look on your face that can only be described as guilty. 

“Fuuckkk,” Jamie breathes out and you hurriedly interject, “It wasn’t intentional! At least, not at first. It started because I was irritable because I hurt a lot, and then I convinced myself that I was faking it so I got mad at myself for being a little liar. And then I couldn’t sleep because I hurt so bad and everything was making me uncomfortable so I started snapping at you. I noticed it pretty quick so I figured I’d get the pain checked out and sorted because I didn’t think pulled muscles were supposed to last this long. And it turned out that it wasn’t a pulled muscle but some of my disks were all weird, and then one day in between physical therapy and the chiropractor, I fell on my back and jostled everything wrong and it fucking popped.”

Jamie thinks he knows exactly when that was. He remembers you saying something about falling while walking to your car after work and him asking if you needed ice. It was at the tail end of things, and he’d taken your stiffness figuratively as opposed to literally. Like, you were acting all cold because you hated him, not because you couldn’t move. 

“So,” you continue, “I just leaned into it. I mean, Dr. Hadley was only one of my doctors, but she’s the one who told me I- you know, could end up like this. She said if things popped and it got into my spinal cord or fluid or whatever and they couldn’t get it out, it was only a matter of time before it messed everything up. They only way to stop it at that point would be to not move so either way, I end up stuck.” 

You half-sob, half-laugh. “I didn’t know how to tell you and I could tell you were already annoyed with me so I just decided to let it happen. You’re better off without me, anyway. I hate asking for help and I hate when people give me empathetic looks or what-fucking-ever, and I was going to have to ask you for a lot of help. You don’t even fucking have time for that, Jamie.”

Jamie is at a loss for words, and you’ve run out of things to say. 

You stare at each other in the hallway by the elevator, breathing heavily. You’ve both triggered each other’s fight-or-flight response, and it seems you’re both down for a fight.

“Right,” Jamie says finally, “ok, yeah, ok. You didn’t tell me because you didn’t want me to have to deal with this?”

You nod. 

“Right,” he says again. “That’s fucked up.”

You don’t respond and he looks at you closely. “You know that’s fucked up, yeah?”

You shrug. 

“Jesus, babe.” Jamie runs his hands through his hair. He’s going to have to fix his headbands. “Alright,” he says yet again, “look. Dr. Sharon and me- we talk. And, you’re supposed to be able to talk to people about shit like this. Like, me playing football isn’t supposed to mean I don’t have time for the people I love. And if you’re feeling that way or if you’re hurting, you have to tell me so I don’t think you’re being all pissed off because you hate me. That’s the whole point of love, babe. You take care of each other’s shit.”

“Jamie, I can’t get places easily anymore. I can’t drive and I can’t go up steps. I will never be able to storm the pitch to kiss you or walk with you in Brazil. I get mad really easily because everything’s so fucking frustrating and I just want to punch something.” You shake your head. “You don’t deserve any of that. You need someone who can be there for you and isn’t a total pill to be around.”

“Are you fucking trying to push me away?” he asks.

“Yes!” you exclaim. “Obviously!”

“Well fucking don’t. You almost had me the first time, but good luck getting rid of me now.”

“Fine!”

“Fine!”

“For fuck’s sake, just kiss,” groans Will, walking by with an armful of laundry. 

“Fuck off, William!” you both say in unison and then Jamie’s on one knee, eye-level with you and brushing a thumb across your chin. 

“Fucking hell, love,” he breathes. “You have to remember that you can talk to me, yeah? Just promise you’ll remember.”

You nod, unable to speak. 

“Good,” he says. “We’re giving this another go. And if you can’t kiss me on the pitch, might as well do it here, yeah?”

[totallynotmeems]

Rating show names based on their accuracy (+ thoughts):

based on this post

Community: they sure are a community. a community of mentally ill community college students who definitely all need therapy. also very gay.

The Great: catherine ii is great, peter iii sucks. kinda horrific at times, but cool story.

Suits: haven’t watched much of it. i know they do wear suits and that the main two guys have a weird relationship. megan markle and the woman who plays donna are cool.

The Office: they work in an office. jokes did not age well, but also a lot were offensive at the time of airing. funny though, and influential.

Parks and Recreation: i mean i guess they talk about parks and recreation a little bit, but honestly not as informational as you might expect.

Shameless: yeah i don’t think that family has any shame.

The Magicians: the are magicians, but most importantly they are all mentall ill

New Girl: she’s new, she’s a girl. it fits

It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia: nope. it’s pretty dark.

Mythic Quest: there’s really no quests nor are there any myths. but i do love danny pudi so i watched it.

Ted Lasso: yep, that’s the main characters name.

Supernatural: let’s hope that’s all just the supernatural and not real

The Rise of the Pink Ladies: pretty good. sad it got canceled and taken off streaming though

Good Omens: not really. i think these people always got another coming at them as soon as the defeat the previous one.

What We Do in the Shadows: not really shadows, but it isn’t a super well lit show.

9-1-1: these bitches always got something wrong with them

9-1-1 Lone Star: same as the last but country 🤠

Modern Family: these people were still making the same damn mistakes as people were 20 years before. good show though.

The X-Files: i’m going to guess it’s pretty accurate. i’m pretty new to the show though.

[eyesonstars-feetonground]

Jamie didn’t forgive his dad’s abuse; he let go of the control his father has over him: Ted Lasso 3x11

Watched Ted Lasso 3.11 last night, and I really regret going on social media to see peoples’ takes before watching the actual episode. Based on some reactions, I went in scared about how bad they fucked up, and came out bewildered at a general lack of media literacy and bad faith people have in shows they profess to like?? 

Tons of people with more relevant life experience have spoken about the controversial plot line of Jamie “forgiving” his dad, but it truly did not read to me like a story of a victim forgiving an abuser and letting them get away with stuff or even inviting said abuse back in their life. His mom, who had the most significant conversation with him in the episode imo, insists that his dad won’t change and embodies the “fuck him” attitude. 

However, this episode also makes it clear that isn’t working for Jamie! He is constantly affected by the specter of his dad (looking back in the stands over and over, clearly worried about seeing him after a long gap), regardless of his dad actually being there. 

Explicitly, textually, within the show, any forgiveness would be for Jamie, not his dad. But also, nothing in the show indicates that Jamie actually forgives his dad, even after talking to Ted. 

Instead, to me, it reads far more like Jamie letting go of the control his dad has over him, despite not even being present. Before the conversation, the stands are a source of fear and anxiety for him (get Phil Dunster an emmy!!), but not only because the Man City supporters are booing him, but because he connects that to his dad (his mom literally says that his dad will be in the stands booing him, for him, all those Man City fans hating him could camouflage the larger threat of his dad).

After the talk, he taunts the crowd back, essentially letting go of that fear to better heal himself, taking control of a threat that isn’t really a threat at all. He is taking his mother’s advice to let his father out of his life, to stop proving anything to him, to stop setting himself up in opposition of his dad - hence the crucial climax of him making a “selfish”, solo goal, despite that being something his dad would want from him. 

In regards to the text to his dad at the end, it was the most bland text I’ve ever seen. There was no forgiveness or emotion to him hoping his dad would be okay, it’s like a text you sent to an acquaintance from ten years ago because you heard their dog died. Instead, this is also Jame in fact letting go of his anxiety and fear - multiple times, he is anxious *because* the last time he talked to his dad was when his dad showed up unexpectedly in Wembley, and he’s constantly paranoid it will happen again. In my mind, this is Jamie taking control of the situation while being emotionally distant in order to cut that sense of anxiety out and make the first step toward that inevitable meeting again. He is reducing his dad from a terrifying unknown to a situation he starts and can control. 

Because this time Jamie knows he will be able to handle whatever is thrown at him; not because he deserves or accepts abuse but because even if abuse is doled out to him as a result of reaching out, the rest of the episode shows how much love he is surrounded by, how much support. When the announcer says “this must be so meaningful to his family,” it is his mom + stepdad, his coaches, his fans, and his team we see first. His dad is an afterthought (though I think it is completely in character for the “forgive and humanize everyone” show to have his dad also choose to heal - completely separate from Jamie’s own journey or even his knowing.)

And that the direction he has chosen to take is in honor of that love, and for that love of his team and his real family. 

People keep saying he should have cut his dad out entirely, but he is already doing that at the start of the episode, and for this specific person and situation, it isn’t working. It isn’t contributing to his healing process, and it seems kind of one note for everyone to insist that all victims be able to or willing to cut people out of their life. Peoples’ relationships to their abusers is not black and white, which the show has already demonstrated with the fact that Rebecca and Rupert can have good times together while she still has strict boundaries and knows he was and is abusive. 

I thought Jamie’s story was a well done, nuanced take that didn’t give an inch to his father’s previous treatment of him, from Jamie or the people around him. I believe even Ted offers the path of forgiveness because he recognizes Jamie is in a place for it - an emotional place where he has moved beyond anger and spite, and a physical place where his dad doesn’t present physical danger to him. The episode was so sincere in showing how badly his dad’s abuse has hurt and damaged Jamie, and how forgiveness, for him, means choosing to let that relationship stay in the past and move on.  

Respect to everyone’s opinions though!!! I think it’s totally okay to be critical of the show, especially when some story lines are so important and sensitive. I just truly didn’t even see the biggest issue most people have with the plot line, which is a sincere forgiveness of abuse i.e. that the abuse was okay. I definitely also think him blocking his dad would be another way to get control over his anxieties, but not one I think meshes with the tone of the show.  

Anyway, sorry for the rant, but I loved the episode—though I do think next week will rip my heart out. 

[laiqualaurelote]

Ted Lasso fics masterlist

it’s not about the wins or losses, it’s about the fandom we made along the way - and that, I think, is what I’ll miss the most

meanwhile, a masterlist of all my Ted/Trent fics:

1. The Truth Shall Make Ye Fret (T, 20k)

“Thing is, though, you gotta love the questions themselves. I guess you journalists don’t get the luxury of that, seeing’s how you gotta rush your stories out - y’all just want your answers right off the bat. But I think you gotta live the questions first. Then one day you’ll gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”

Trent takes off his glasses. “Ted Lasso, did you just quote Rilke at me?”

Ted shrugs modestly.

“I take it back,” says Trent. “You don’t need media training at all.”

In 48 hours, Trent Crimm lands a scoop, implodes his career and makes some drastic life decisions. And then there's the aftermath. And Ted, of course.

2. they will see us waving from such great heists (T, 21k)

“Well, like the Gambler himself says - you got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em. Know when to walk away, know when to run. And the latter would be about now, because I think this house is on fire.” 

In which Trent Crimm, Interpol, investigates the theft of Rupert Mannion’s painting by a mysterious thief dubbed The Greyhound. FBI Special Agent Ted Lasso gets in the way. Heist!AU

2a. Trick Plays (T, 6.4k)

Snippets from the Such Great Heists universe, including Crimminal Intent, The Prying Dutchman and We Provide Leverage.

3. constant as a northern star (constantly in the dark) (T, 10.5k)

“I just met Ted Lasso,” Sachiko Crimm says bluntly when her ex-husband picks up.

Trent is silent for a while. “And?” he says finally.

Sachiko gives it five seconds, and then she bursts out laughing.

“Stop it,” says Trent wearily.

The saga of Trent Crimm and his independent ex-wife

4. all the men and women merely players (T, 50k)

"So let me get this straight. You, an American whose career highlights consisted mainly of appearing on Saturday Night Live, decide in the wake of the apocalypse to lead a touring Shakespeare company across the ruins of England."

"Oh, I know. Heck, I said as much to Rebecca when she suggested it. I said, 'You could fill two Internets with what I don’t know about directing Shakespeare.' And she said, 'Ted, the Internet doesn’t exist any more.'"

Trent Crimm meets Ted Lasso by chance at a Shakespeare play. Five years and the end of the world later, they meet again at another. A Station Eleven post-apocalyptic theatre AU (no knowledge of Station Eleven necessary to read), WIP but updating real soon!

It’s been an honour to write for this fandom, I love you all so very much (on three!)

[princessamericachavez]

My thoughts about the Ted Lasso finale (no particular order)

The end montage was obviously Ted’s dream for the future and not even subtly so jot that down

Actually just gonna add that this is the show’s way of telling us the potential these characters have and what Ted wishes for them but without his presence it’s up to them now

Roy mouthing alone to Goodbye, Farewell broke me because he’s clearly the one who put together the choreography

Also Dani singing? My most beloved

Jaime and Roy clashing one last time might have pissed some people off but this was always a rock in their shoe that they needed to address and we see that their relationship can and will survive it

I like Rebecca’s romcom ending even if I wanted her to end with Ted.

Ted going back to his son was necessary and the whole point. He always blamed his father for abandoning them. When he came to Richmond he was all but running away from his family in hopes things would magically fix themselves. Instead, he put in the work and healed. But his biggest triggers were always connected to him missing his son’s life. In the end, Ted’s growth was the point so he could go back to them and be the best version of himself for them and for himself.

Ted not talking while Rebecca rambles was actually perfect. Old bitter Rebecca would’ve never opened up like that. But old Ted would’ve also rushed to reassure her or try to make a joke or cheer her up. This time, Ted lets her speak and then sticks to his guns, even if the truth is uncomfortable for others. He allows himself to do this for himself and not to please others.

Beard staying for Jane was foreseeable given the toxic codependent nature of their relationship. Happy perfect endings don’t exist. His story is still developing.

Furthermore, the real growth came from Beard letting himself choose something regardless of what Ted is doing and breaking himself free from a cycle of guilt and feeling in debt.

I know it was in the dream but god I hope Roy gets therapy. We did see the roots of him wanting to change and be better and accept the help he needs so he’s in the right path.

Keeley/Roy/Jamie is still endgame in my heart. Eventually. Once all three are in the right place.

The himbos singing made me cry. A lot.

Even if it was in the dream, if Jamie actually chose to reconnect to his dad somehow I think it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He would get to do it on his terms and only because he chose to have him in his life to some degree. Which might simply be being civil and talking from time to time, so long as his father keeps putting in the work to better himself and takes steps to make amends and apologize and acknowledge all his wrongs. Who knows. It’s an open ending.

Loved everything about the match.

Glad Van Damme got closure from Rani Dojas and that Dani acknowledged his part in what happened and tried to make amends.

CANT believe they made me feel sorry for George.

The cold open was a tease but I loved to see what could’ve been (and who says Ted and Rebecca didn’t find each other while running away from all that noise and one thing less t another…)

I wish we’d seen Sam’s restaurant and his cute chef one last time.

Actually wish we’d had a little bit of all the other himbos.

And finally

Finally

I… don’t think it was the series’s finale. I don’t know. I might be wrong but lately all interviews from the cast suggest deep down they hope something else will come and maybe they’ll be like “you know what, this story isn’t over” or something.

That last scene and the musical cue with Ted’s final shot felt so dissonant to me. Like there’s something still unfinished there.

I, like Roy Kent, have all my fingers crossed.

[lunar-years]

Ted Lasso s4 ideas:

The season inexplicably reverts to an old school format. I.e., there are 24 episodes, but all of them are roughly the same length as s1 episodes and not those s3 monstrosities

Most of these episodes are just goofy team antics for the hell of it :) but there’s also more room for good character development and whatnot.

Return of the Christmas Episode!

Keeley and Barbara get an arc about becoming true work besties and being amazing at their jobs. Barbara gets to be a bigger supporting character because let’s be real this show needs more women.

Keeley is also back at Richmond working on the women’s team and thus no longer isolated from the main cast all season

Roy is struggling with being a manager and Nate is the one who helps him adjust. Thus we get some fruition and payoff from the Nate & Roy parallels and Nate’s Roy-shaped insecurities in prior seasons.

Trent’s back to “write a book about Rebecca” and he spends most of his time “interviewing” her in her office, except really they mostly just gossip about everyone at the club and eat biscuits

Jamie tells other people about visiting his dad and lets people help him process and navigate that in a healthy way. I think it would be really lovely if Sam was one of the people he confides in and they get a bestie arc that emphasizes how much their relationship has grown and why. Also the dad foils there remain soooo juicy. Whether it works out with James or not is less important than whether the story is given necessary and thoughtful attention

Roykeeley get to have the necessary conversations about their breakup that s3 denied them :( maybe they also get a nice heart-to-heart about both feeling in over their heads in their new job roles and how that can be so overwhelming but also ultimately very rewarding, too.

Royjamie rain kiss

Eventual Canon Throuple duh

Beardjane divorce arc + adorable Dad!Beard antics

Ted pops up for intermittent cameos when he’s zooming in from American to join in on the Diamond Dogs. It becomes a running bit because they always forget about time zones and wake him up and shit.

Ted makes a larger cameo near the end of the season because he and Henry take a trip to London to watch the team and cheer them on.

Everyone is left happy and thriving and therapied down 🫡

Jason you should hire me. Put me in, coach!

[geralt-of-baevia]

Call It What You Want: Chapter One

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine

pairing: nobreakout!joel x f!ofc (Violet Fletcher)

rating: explicit, MDNI 18+

word count: 2.1k

summary: Seeking solace from a painful breakup, Violet relocates to a tranquil town, purchasing a neglected house to renovate. In her new neighborhood, she befriends Harlow, who introduces her to Joel, a gruff and seasoned contractor with a heart of gold. Despite Joel's initial grumpiness, Violet finds herself drawn to his expertise and hidden kindness.

As Violet immerses herself in home renovations alongside Joel, their dynamic begins to shift, with Joel unexpectedly opening himself up to the possibility of love. Their budding relationship faces challenges as shadows from their pasts emerge, testing their newfound connection.

warnings/tags: nothing for now! just lots of light and airy fluff and a meet-cute! but don't worry, it's gonna get dirty 😈! oh, I guess age gap? yeah, that one.

a/n: alright, i've had MAJOR writer's block for a couple years now. I tried to write a Ted Lasso fic last year, but quickly lost steam. But somehow Pedge worked his magic on me and I'm already nine chapters in on this story and 25k words and I'm just now posting it! I hope y'all enjoy. This story means the world to me rn. <3

My keys jingled in the door, and I couldn’t help but let out an aggravated sigh. This was at least the third time this week that the front door was sticking. I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed again, knowing my fate: I would have to crawl through the kitchen window. 

Again. 

As I walked around the back to go in through the kitchen window, I heard a voice calling my name. I looked across the street and saw my neighbor Harlow. She was standing on the last step of her front porch. One of her hands was held up to her brow as a temporary visor, blocking her eyes from the sun. She was shaking her head at me with a big, stupid grin. 

“Girl, is that front door stuck again?” she asked, humor dripping from her faint southern drawl. 

I sighed, crossing my arms in defeat and shifting my weight to one hip. 

“Is there any use in lying to you at this point?” I called back in response. 

She let out a loud laugh. “At least this time I caught you before you god forbid get stuck in that damn kitchen window again, ass up and legs flailing.” 

I laughed at her comment and placed a hand awkwardly over my face in embarrassment. Two days prior I had gotten stuck climbing through the kitchen window when the front door had been jammed again, Harlow coming to my rescue. 

“And I thought you had “finally fixed” anyway?” she asked, doing air quotes with her hands.

“I did!” 

“And how is that working out for you?”

I shook my head with a laugh and flipped her the bird.

“Well, why don’t you come over and I’ll make us some breakfast?” she said, motioning me to come over to her, “and then you are going to let me call my friend who will come and fix your door. And I’m not letting you tell me no this time.”

I knew there was no saying no to her.

----

“Wait, so you’re telling me you just sautee mushrooms and onions, and then put it between puff pastry and a slab of beef?” 

I nodded with a giggle. “Mmhmm. And then you brush the meat with mustard as well.” 

Harlow’s mouth dropped open. 

“I’ll make it for you sometime!” I told her excitedly, “I haven’t made it since culinary school, but I loved it.” 

The doorbell rang and interrupted us. Harlow shot up from her seat excitedly.  

“He’s here!” she said as she made her way towards the front door. She paused for a minute and turned to face me.

“Okay, just a warning real quick. Don’t be put off by the fact that he might be a bit of a curmudgeon,” she giggled. 

“A curmudgeon? That’s such a specific brand of grump,” I said with a chuckle. She shrugged her shoulders before turning back around to get the door. 

The doorbell rang a second time and I heard Harlow shout, “I’m coming! Be patient, Jesus…” 

I giggled to myself and took a long drink of my coffee. Before I was able to set my mug down on the table, I looked up to see Harlow walk back into the kitchen, a tall man following behind her. 

“Do you want some coffee Joel?” she asked him. I watched as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame of the doorway. 

“Yes, please,” he replied, emphasizing the please. 

I started to stand up to introduce myself, but he caught my eye and put a hand up to stop me.

“Oh, no need to get up on my behalf,” he said, stopping me. I sat back down as he walked the few steps between us and held his hand out to me. 

I took his hand in mine and he gave me a firm handshake. I almost missed him introducing himself to me. I was too focused on how the pads of his hand and fingers were callused, and how it felt against my smooth skin. 

“I’m Joel.”

“Hi, I’m Violet,” I replied, thankful that at least the autopilot in my head was paying attention. A big smile spread on his face, causing his eyes to squint and get crinkly in the corners. 

“As in the Violet that lives across the street in the 1940s fixer-upper?” He had the same faded southern accent that Harlow did. They had known each other for a long time. 

“I feel bad that you seem to know more about me than I know about you,” I said, trying to not come across awkwardly. Joel took a seat and let out an airy chuckle. 

“Oh don’t worry, there’s not much to know about me,” he said sincerely. 

“We both know that’s not true,” Harlow interjected. She sat down at the end of the table between Joel and me, handing him his coffee. 

“Thank you,” he said almost in relief. 

I tried my hardest not to stare at Joel, but I caught myself looking him up and down more than once as we sat at the table and talked. 

“Wait, so what’s goin’ on?” he asked, setting his now empty coffee mug down on the table. I sighed before tucking my hair behind my ear. 

“Okay, so the original door knob kept catching and jamming. Something having to do with the original door knob not lining up correctly when it's closed. I thought putting a new door knob and re-aligning it would work. But then I tried to open my door when I got open, and it was stuck again,” I explained, “so I think it’s past me just YouTubing answers.” 

“Well it’s a good thing that Joel here is a carpenter,” Harlow said, patting him on the shoulder. He smiled another crinkled smile at her. 

“Retired carpenter, but yes,” he said, giving her a friendly wink, “but I can fix that. I bet you anything your doorway is slackin’ and need a new door. Either way, I’m sure I can fix it.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother-”

“If it was going to be a bother to me, I wouldn’t have come here in the first place,” he said with a knowing smirk. I tried my hardest to keep my blushing to a minimum, but my cheeks still grew warm. 

Joel stood up and clapped his hands, rubbing them together excitedly. “Alright ladies, let's get up and go look at this door.” We all got up and exited the house, making our way across the street to mine. 

I smiled up at the house as we made our way to the front door. Sometimes I still couldn’t believe it was mine. The house had been barely used for almost a decade. Each one of the five bedrooms needed to be redone. And the two bathrooms. And the sitting rooms. It was a lot of work, but worth it. Not to mention a dilapidated house was cheaper to buy than a ready-to-move-in one. I saw it as a way that I get to make the house exactly how I wanted it. 

Once we were at the door, Joel held his hand out to me. 

“Key please,” he said, locking eyes with me as he did. I fumbled into my pocket, pulled the key out, and placed it in his hand. “Thanks.” 

He put the key in the keyhole and tried to turn it, but it wouldn’t budge. He tried turning it the other way, but it still didn’t move. I sighed. 

“How badly did I fuck it up?” I asked. He let out a chuckle. 

“You didn’t fuck it up, the house did,” he said, giving me a reassuring look. I watched as he pointed out areas around the frame on the wall, “I guarantee you it’s like I said, slacking in these places and putting the door off balance.”

“So what's the fix?” I asked, “Is it going to be intense?”

“Not at all. It’s a project I could do and get done by this afternoon. I just need to go get some things for it,” he said, still looking at the wall and assessing. “But I need to look at it from the inside before I can tell. Is there a way to get in?”

Harlow giggled. “Through the kitchen window. I had to help rescue her the other day, though.” 

"I’ll give you a boost this time then,” he said with a smirk. 

The three of us made our way around the back of the house, and I shimmied open the window just enough for me to fit through. Joel squatted down, laced his fingers together, and looked up at me. 

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded in response. I took a deep breath, placed my hands on Joel’s shoulders, and then my foot in his hands. 

“Three, two, one, up.” On ‘up’ I jumped with my foot on the ground as he simultaneously lifted me. I was taken aback a little by how effortlessly he did so, and how I could feel muscles through his shirt. 

I grabbed onto the bottom of the windowsill and pulled myself up as Joel continued to push. He led the foot that was in his hands to his shoulder, where I was able to give myself a final boost and get through the window. I grabbed onto the edge of the counter inside and pulled myself the rest of the way in, accidentally landing in a thud on the black and white kitchen floor. 

“You okay?” Joel and Harlow shouted in unison. 

“I’m fine!” I called back as I got myself to my feet. I peeked out of the window to look at them. “I’m going to go find an easier window for you two to climb through and get it ready.”

I ran towards the front of the house, looking for a window that was lower and easier to get through. I decided on one of the windows that lined the porch. I haphazardly ripped the screen from the window and unlocked it. After opened it I stuck my head out and shouted, “Over here, you two!”

Once Harlow and Joel crawled into the house, Joel immediately headed for the front door. 

“Have you decided on a paint color for this room yet?” Harlow asked me, looking around the room we were in. I shook my head. 

“I’ve decided to keep the wallpaper. I’m just going to clean it and touch up the trim,” I told her with a big smile. She looked around the room at the wallpaper in question, wincing a little at the bold gold pattern on the walls. 

“So, I was right,” Joel said, peeking his head around into the room. He nudged his head for me to come see. I swallowed the butterflies down into my stomach and went into the foyer. He nudged his head again before crouching down by the door knob. I closed the space between us and followed suit, crouching down so that I was at eye level with Joel and the doorknob.

Joel pointed his finger at where the door and the frame joined. “See how it’s not lining up, it's just a little too low.”

I watched as he stood up and grabbed onto the knob with both hands. With a grunt, he lifted the door and turned it at the same time. To my happy surprise, the door opened with no problem. Joe took a step back and placed his hands on his hips, looking at the door with a sense of accomplishment. 

“So, a new doorframe?” I asked as I got to my feet. He replied with a “mmhmm.” 

“Yep. I just need to take some measurements of the door and the frame. I know I have enough spare wood at my place, but I’ll need a new door. Did you say you have the original hardware?”

I nodded. “How much is a new door going to cost? I can get you the money for it.”

He shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry. I know a guy where I can get a good door for cheap. Consider it a housewarming gift.”

Harlow and I sat on my front porch as we watched Joel drive off in the direction of the woodshop. 

“So, I thought you said he was a curmudgeon?” I said, keeping my gaze ahead. 

“He is. Usually.”

She nudged my shoulder with hers, causing me to sway to the side. I straightened up and finally looked over at her just in time to nudge her back, biting at my bottom lip. 

Usually. We’ll have to see what that means. 

[starghost-fics]

hey! happy holiday weekend if you have one. here's a completed fic:

Chapter 7: Ted calls once Trent's back in London.

commentary (includes a few small notes, and then something approaching a mini-essay about voice)

Did I ever mention that the title of this fic (and the secret filename of chapter 6, no breaks in the line) are from Josh Ritter's song 'Real Long Distance'? Now I have. I love Josh Ritter. I like to think that Ted would too.

I was going to make it explicit that the landline phone Ted finds at his mom's is magical, and you can't lie when you're using it. in the end i didn't think that was necessary to establish; being on the phone, staring at your ceiling, sometimes you say things you wouldn't say if you could see the person.

but we can also pretend the phone is magical.

I thought about stretching this out over the six years until Henry went to college (did i math his age? no), or at least a couple until he went to a pre-college program like the one I remember heartily declining, and have notes toward a version like that, but I do not have that sort of energy.

okay! so!

on dialog and not-dialog

I have a lot of thoughts about voice, in every sense of it in writing. From authorial voice to narrative voice in a particular project to individual character voices. These are all different, and I'm sure if I spent five more minutes considering it, I'd come up with one or two more aspects of voice. But I have always prided myself on character voice, in particular in fanfic. If I don't feel I have some meager grasp of a character's voice, I shy away from writing them.

Voice is a lot more than twisting an accent into the written word; in fact, I think the least powerful thing you can do is dramatically alter the written word to portray what you hear in an accent. I do this a bit with Ted but far less than Jason Sudeikis does when speaking Ted's lines, and I'll often go back through and undo a couple dropped word endings and the like.

So voice, right. Voice is the words a character chooses to use and the way they use them. The misuse of words, and the unusual phrasings. It's when they stop and start a sentence, and the way they interrupt. It's in what metaphors and similes they use, and what they say about others. It's about not only what they don't say, but how they don't say it. Do they evade, change the subject, half-answer? It's about what they choose to ask, and what they provoke with a statement instead. And it's about pet names and cursing.

So what happened in chapter 6? Well, mostly I got to a point when I realized dialog wouldn't quite tell the whole story I wanted to tell without some awful manipulation of their voices and what they would say on the phone. I refuse to manipulate a naturalistic character like that; I am genuinely trying to capture something, not force it into another mold.

And there is a power to breaking form if you do it with confidence and intention. It was never going to be a break to a wholly traditional scene; it had to be the rule reversed, right? It had to be how they communicate with each other on a level other than dialog. As though without the phones, they don't have or need voices.

It turns out that action is voice too, in a way. Voice being a specific expression of character, in the conscious use of language. But action is the conscious use of the body to communicate, and if and when they would approach someone else, what they choose to look at, and how they look. How they touch.

What I think I've been trying to get at with this accidental essay is the fact that chapter 6, in New York, made the final chapter come together easier, and why.

After the no-dialog chapter, neither of them needed to be convinced to give this a try, textually. On a higher fictional level, the proof is already there: you have them coming together in both of these ways, in sync with their words and (eyebrow waggle) their bodies. The argument for why this might work for them is in the structure of the story itself, rather than in their conversation.

I didn't think too hard about whether I was re-hashing things I did in Lafayette, because heck, what is fanfic good for if not revisiting similar game pieces on a different board, and this board was an interesting structural change.

On that note, I think I have one more Ted/Trent fic swimming around in me, and boy howdy, is it a different game board.

[belmottetower]

3.11 - Council Estates and the Right To Buy

In 3.11, we saw Jamie go home to his mum’s, and we learned that she still lives in the council house that Jamie grew up in. This has interesting implications and possibly negative ones if construed the wrong way. In the Subjectify articles, we've already discussed those implications, because it's something I've been concerned about since we first saw the trailer shot of Jamie's childhood bedroom. I knew even then that the story beat would have to be about throwing back to the Roy poster - that's why they had to keep Georgie in the house Jamie grew up in, rather than have her in a new house elsewhere. It was a choice made specifically so Roy could see the poster. 

But in making sure that could happen, it leaves us with the unfortunate framing that Jamie didn't buy his mum a house when he got rich, and "buying your mum a house" is basically the first thing a working class footballer like him would do with his money. It's a really standard baseline. I have been nervously obsessing about Ted Lasso accidentally implying that Jamie wouldn’t have done that, for months now. I had already decided, before the episode aired, that if they did not clarify either way, I would have to assume that she did not want to leave the place she lived, and that rather than a new house, Jamie had bought her their old house on the Right To Buy, a government scheme introduced in the 1980s that allows most council tenants to buy their council home at a discount. (I do have issues with this policy generally, and the impact it had on the amount of council housing available, but that’s not for now.)

There is sort of a level of visual evidence for this - the inside of his mum’s house is really well maintained and clearly full of pretty expensive furniture and items. They definitely own it, and having now met her, gotten her vibe and seen the kind of house it is, it makes a huge amount of sense to me that she stayed there. It might have felt different if we saw a different KIND of council home, but in this specific situation, it tracks. 

There’s a bit in my primer about this, but in the UK, council housing comes in a lot of different shapes and sizes. Some of them will be flats in tower blocks (like the one Roy points to from the Westway sports pitch in 2.05 - in real life that is a council housing block in Ladbroke Grove and private apartment buildings like that simply don’t exist, Roy is a council estate kid too) or the flat fronted buildings with outdoor walkways (think Kingsman, or Rose’s place in Doctor Who) but a lot of them are houses like the one you see Jamie’s mum living in - solidly built terraced houses on car-free streets, inside the boundaries of an estate. Sometimes the estate in general contains both apartment blocks and rows of houses, with some green spaces built in too. That No Ball Games sign is a staple in any and all council estates across the UK and is ignored in council estates up and down the country by children just like the ones seen in this episode and it is lovely to think about Jamie once doing the same thing. I really liked getting to see the kind of estate he grew up on.

So, TL:DR - they would own that house now, even though it’s on an estate, otherwise they would not be eligible to still be living in it. And it’s not universally horrible to live on a council estate, or in a street of ex-estate houses.

But that “Jamie didn’t buy her a house” discourse is definitely brewing - I have seen people discussing this already as “wrong,” and I agree that it is wrong in the sense of they should have taken a line or two to clarify the way that situation might have worked, specifically to not accidentally paint Jamie in a bad light. What I don’t agree with is that it’s “wrong” for her to have stayed put - that living in that area, in that type of house, on that estate is somehow inherently bad and a situation she should have been rescued from by Jamie. And at this point, insisting that she should leave or have something better is swiftly bordering on classist.

There are a lot of stereotypes that exist about working class families and council estates. That they’re all shitty places to live, that everyone who lives in them is a benefits scrounger, or a druggie, or an alcoholic, or are involved in crime or gangs. Frankly it’s an awful stereotype that just furthers the classism and class divide in the UK. There are issues in some places, but it is not ubiquitous. Georgie clearly had Jamie pretty young and would have been granted a “family home” house by the council. Living in a little cul de sac like that, it’s very likely she had a strong community of neighbors, other families with kids who all would have supported one another. She would have been looked after, as a young single mum, and Jamie would have been safe to run about and be cared for by everyone in the street if Georgie was working. It would not have been perfect, but it may have felt safe and warm in its own way.

So once Jamie got rich - given that Georgie doesn’t seem to have any other kids who might benefit from a bigger house or anything - I can honestly see Jamie trying to buy her a fancy house somewhere else and her being like “What the fuck would I do in some fancy suburb in Chesire? This is my home, I’ll stay here thanks,” and so Jamie just bought her the council house they’d grown up in and paid to get it renovated and done up nicely so Simon could have his laboratory, and Georgie a nice place to live, with her friends still close by. Except for his childhood bedroom, which she clearly refused to let him touch and him being the biggest mummy’s boy ever he didn’t argue. 

Britain used to be incredibly proud of its strides in social welfare, and council housing was once very good quality building work. (If you ever want to watch a show that depicts the origins of, and pride in, social welfare for the working class communities in the UK in a beautiful, nuanced way that will make you sob every other episode please go and watch Call the Midwife from the beginning and come scream at me about it.) These are desirable homes - in fact, Right to Buy aside, a lot of older council housing, both houses and flats, are “de-counciled” and sold off privately to new home buyers who were never in the welfare system. I actually rent an ex-council flat in London, from a landlord who bought it privately. And I have a friend of a friend who privately bought and renovated an ex-council terrace almost exactly like Georgie’s. It’s not the greatest thing when council housing gets privatized, especially when the new replacements are of such terrible quality. But the original places are built to last, so Georgie’s house definitely could be done up to a high standard once they had the right to do improvements that were not the bare minimum of the overstretched housing organization. And between Right To Buy, private sales, and people who are still in the council housing system, an estate like Georgie’s these days may have any number of privately owned homes mixed in, and different incomes and circumstances within the same street or block of flats. Some are quite gentrified and even trendy.

I’m explaining this so people know the context when they talk about a council estate like the one we saw. I think there is a tendency to want to make Jamie’s background and childhood the most traumatic it could have possibly been, even more so than is on screen, and so it’s possible people who are less familiar with the UK and how council housing works or what council estates are like, could think that Jamie’s home growing up and the estate he lived on was awful and shitty and very very rough. And that could have been the case if he had lived on one of the rougher estates or in a flat in tower block that was falling apart and hard to do up not worth salvaging (a lot of them are being torn down) but that is not the kind of place the episode chose to show us. So now, having seen it, saying “How dare Ted Lasso not show him buying his mum a big house in order to help escape his traumatic upbringing and dirty poverty life” is honestly not a great take and is a pretty classist way to look at the millions of families in the UK that live in council housing. The episode absolutely should have stated that he bought that house rather than risk letting anyone think she’s still living within the welfare system because Jamie didn’t take care of her, but there’s a difference between that and removing her from the environment entirely if she was happy and at home there.

But speaking of adding extraneous trauma, there’s another element of Jamie having been brought up on an estate that I also want to talk about. 

As someone who has been, in my fic, flying the flag for Jamie’s mum being alive and lovely and for them to have been super close for what feels like an eternity, this episode was so so so good for me. I’ll be honest, I always found the fact that some people were certain Jamie’s mum was dead quite baffling, because in the show, the way he talks about his mum right as far back as Two Aces, using present tense means it always seemed clear she was alive and I really just took the “Don’t think she would be lately” part about not being proud to mean that she didn’t know how he had been acting at Richmond, in training, with Ted and Sam, because he didn’t tell her. Not that she’d died, or had become estranged or something.

And then even aside from like, grammar, I just never thought the show depicted Jamie as someone who had suffered the loss of a parent. Especially when you compare him with Ted - who we all know did. Jamie was just not written as a character who is carrying around grief, especially recent grief, and his apology to Roy in season 2 proves it - "I aint used to being around dead people. It just, it did something to me, emotionally." This is very different to Roy’s explanation of why he acted so weirdly towards Keeley at the funeral itself - namely that memories of his grandad’s death were messing with him. It would be a very weird choice by the writers to have Jamie lie and say he hadn’t been around death if he had lost his mum.

So yeah, I always thought she was alive, and I always assumed - based on the ages kids tend to get scouted and acknowledged as good by the academies - that James hadn’t been around much until Jamie’s mid to late teens, and as such that Jamie didn’t ever live with James, just saw him occasionally. He certainly would not have ever had custody rights, if he walked out when Jamie was a baby and showed back up when he was 14.

But while I found the “Jamie’s mum is dead '' takes surprising, I almost preferred them to the theories and fics (sorry, people have the right to write what they want in fic, but I just hate it) that his mum was probably an alcoholic or a drug addict, or absent, or complicit to the James abuse, or just generally a bit shit and anything less than fantastic. Because Jamie talks about her in nothing but the nicest, softest terms, and Jamie himself - when not in his prime prick era, which legitimately only lasts for about three episodes - is the nicest, softest boy with the strongest sense of self. Even if he’d never mentioned his mum, his whole personality felt like it was the product of an upbringing with a whole lot of love and kindness and nurturing and being made to feel special. 

The swiftness with which he reverted to sweetness and openness even in season 1, as well as his natural ego, the funny version of it, felt like his natural state of being, not a new development, and I always attributed this to his mum, which we now obviously know to be true. I’ve seen lots of people this week saying “As soon as we saw Jamie with his mum, EVERYTHING about him suddenly made sense,” and I am thrilled that people see this now, because this is what I always thought. I reverse engineered what his mum must be like based on his character so far, and it turned out just as I thought but even more so. I’ve also seen ideas that even if nothing was “wrong” with her, Jamie was somewhat estranged from her due to James and also sounding wistful when talking about her, or something, but I very much disagree. The two times he’s spoken about her, he has ALSO been talking about James, which was the thing he was sad about - they weren’t moments where he was being peppy and enthusiastic about how much he loved his mum. But also, now that we’ve met her and seen them together, I can kind of imagine him talking wistfully about her after not seeing her for like, a month, just because he is always missing her, LOL.

Anyway, how people interpreted their closeness or estrangement before this week is obviously something we did not know for a fact. The thing is, what we did know is that she was a single mum and that Jamie lived on a council estate in North Manchester, and that knowledge is what made me really side-eye some of the interpretations that framed her as either an addict or a kind of deadbeat figure that meant they had a bad relationship in some way. Because in the UK, there are a lot of stereotypes and stigmas around single mums in general, but in particular working class single mums who live on council estates. It’s really really awful and often revolves around them being unemployed, benefits scroungers, being neglectful or abusive, being drug addicts or sex workers, and it’s a really pervasive part of UK society and classism, and it felt like the details we knew about Jamie’s childhood on an estate is why people leant that way about his mum in a way they wouldn’t have if the council estate thing hadn’t been specified.

Where I work, we represent people across the UK and help get their stories shared to impact politicians. In one instance we got someone we represent onto the national news to talk about the cost of living crisis. She’s a single mum. When the clip got shared on social media she faced so much abuse and harassment and stigma because of these pervasive ideas people have about single mums and ended up having to delete her social media to get away from it. It was deeply upsetting to her, myself and my coworkers.

So I honestly always found fic or meta in which a character who, based on canon, is only ever mentioned as being attentive, loving and someone Jamie has a good relationship with, was portrayed along the above lines really hard to read. It just always felt rooted in the worst kind of stereotypes and classism, even if not intentionally. Anyway, point is…I am so fucking thrilled that we finally got to meet Jamie’s mum, that Georgie is lovely and kind and cuddly and supportive, that Jamie is an even bigger mummy’s boy than I ever could have dreamed, and that he even had a bonus soft baker stepdad father figure who had been around long enough to know that Roy Kent’s poster never left Jamie’s room. And the fact that his parents live in a house they now own, on a council estate where Georgie had a long-established community, is a perfectly fine choice. It isn’t something you need to retcon, you just need to know about the Right to Buy scheme.