1 - 20 of 63 Works by ThirdGenerationRockette
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She will, however, admit to being just the tiniest bit surprised to find Rebecca hovering in her office doorway right now, looking to all intents and purposes…nervous.
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Something about him seems different this morning, he seems less tightly wound, his smile is softer, his hair…oh, holy mother, that’s it, it’s his hair.
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He hadn’t thought it would be a problem, telling Rebecca he’d be happy to be the point of contact for Ted’s flat. Dealing with any maintenance work to be done and managing any issues with the neighbours seemed like barely a fraction of the payback he owed her for what he’d done for Rupert. That was before he encountered the incomparable Ms Shipley.
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She realised she felt alive again for the first time since she had wiped away her tears, sat down, and refused to move until Ted’s flight status changed to ‘departed’ on the terminal screen.
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She watches the tennis happening on court in front of her, of course she does. But she watches him too. His excitement, his pure unfiltered joy, his reactions to the match natural and completely unchecked.
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While her heart still aches at the thought of Ted and what could have been, she can’t bring herself to even think about dating. God though, if she could just manage to separate her heart from the rest of her body, she really could do with getting laid.
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To love you with the sweetest of devotion by ThirdGenerationRockette
Fandoms: Ted Lasso (TV)
06 Jul 2025
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She’s finally gone insane, she fears. She’s spent a week turning Dr Wagner’s words over and over in her mind and this is the result, an actual hallucination, her brain somehow sending signals to her ears that there’s a crying baby in the vicinity.
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Rebecca and her dirty dreams ;) Featuring sweet Ted, confident Ted, sexy Ted…
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She has one foot on the bottom stair, a mug of tea in one hand and a book in the other when the phone in the pocket of her robe rings. Her heart sinks.
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He's hovering outside her house, sweating because summer finally decided to arrive in London in the style of a gigantic blanket of fierce humidity. He's also talking to himself. Idiot. Complete idiot.
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She’s exhausted, she’s tired of pretending all day that she’s fine, that she wishes nothing but the best for Ted, and she feels like the worst person on earth for resenting him just a little.
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It's Christmas and this year she's decided she’s tired of always being aloof Rebecca, serious Rebecca, totally professional Rebecca.
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The irony isn’t lost on her that the person she craves comfort from is the very same one who inadvertently broke her heart half an hour ago. God, she might laugh if she wasn’t a little busy crying.
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"Nina, what can I do for you?" She wastes no time on pleasantries, she knows Nina isn't calling for a chat and she's really too tired today to play her games.
"I have a source who has come to me with a story," Nina says, pausing for a second. "And it's something I think you should know."
Series
- Part 2 of Holiday Weekends
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She had accepted the invitation instantly, no hesitation. It's Charlie, and Nancy, and it's a holiday weekend, and her instant reaction was that she'd love to spend it with them rather than alone, no doubt ending up working through most of it to avoid driving herself crazy with her own company. Now she's wondering if she did the right thing, if Will is going to spend the entire time snarling at her, making it clear that he doesn't know what Charlie was thinking and that as far as he's concerned she really isn't welcome.
Series
- Part 1 of Holiday Weekends
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Glancing around again, his gaze lands on a bench on the other side of the fountain, and for a second he thinks he's hallucinating, because she's in London, or on her way to London, or he thought she was. There's no mistaking her though, he knows her face like he knows his own; the curve of her lips, her high cheekbones, her bright eyes and dark lashes, and he's paralysed by the realisation that she's sitting just feet from him when he thought she was thousands of miles away.
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Red. She so rarely wears red that she isn't quite sure why she chose it for tonight. It's not because it's Christmas, she'd like to think she's at least a little less predictable than that, and anyway, it isn't a Christmas red, as such. It's a warmer, deeper red, like a really good Merlot. Burgundy? Maroon? Whatever the hell colour it is, she bought it because it called to her the second she laid eyes on it, and Will's reaction when she opens the door tells her she made the right choice.
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"I'm not sure you're supposed to have a favourite sister, but yeah," she pauses. "She's the one I'm closest to."
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She wonders how a month can feel like forever. One month, four short weeks, twenty nine long days. Is this is how it will always feel? Each day stretching out before her like a marathon, the nights even worse, every one a long, dark endurance test.
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12:34am. Staring at the time is the last thing that aids sleep, she's well aware of that, but she has no idea why she's still awake and it's irritating her, her irritation compounded (unfairly, she knows) by how peacefully Will is sleeping beside her.