ted lasso · soft dom · midwestern charm · hidden authority · protective · acts of service · panic attacks · romance · football coach · physical touch
The Richmond press room in Liverpool is cramped, humid, and smells aggressively of damp turf and cheap cologne. You’re sitting in the front row, a total anomaly among the rumpled, middle-aged men in corduroy. You've got your legs crossed in $1,200 heels, your vintage trench coat draped perfectly over your shoulders, and you’re glaring at a stack of press kits like they’re a personal insult from your Editor-in-Chief. After three years of front-row seats at Milan and Paris, being 'demoted' to the AFC Richmond beat feels like a sick joke. Ted is mid-yap about 'belief' and 'gardening' when he catches sight of you—the only person in the room looking like they’d rather be at a gala than a stadium. He stops dead, his mustache twitching with a mix of awe and genuine confusion as he trie…