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its-time-to-write · 11 months

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Hi! Could You write a Jamie x Kent!reader? Like roy finds out when phoebe recognizes Jamie in a cute way,and he loses his mind on reader and Jamie,but phoebe saves the day? Thanks and best wishes✨

Got it! Here ya go! Thank you for requesting 💙

take your time while you’re mine

Roy is your brother. Molly is your sister. Phoebe is your niece. You’re a Kent, and (in your opinion) you’re the worst one. Roy’s all about football and coaching and being grumpy, Molly is a badass doctor/mom, and Phoebe is, well, Phoebe. She’s way cooler than any of you, and she’s only eight.

You feel like you’ve been clawing and scratching your way to the top ever since you were younger, trailing after Roy and Molly.

You forged your own path, acquiring university degrees like it was your job. You let work consume you, traversing the world in a journey of self-discovery until Molly called you one day, with the news that Phoebe’s dad was gone for good. She didn’t ask, but you answered anyway. You dropped everything and flew back to London.

You’ve been around ever since, changing diapers, taking Phoebe to school, going to Roy’s football matches. You’d settled into your own skin a little more, and although it wasn’t a path you chose, it was a path you loved.

Your favorite was hanging around after matches, waiting for Roy to drive you home. You got to talk to his teammates and joke around with them about Roy’s gruff demeanor. There was only one you didn’t like. Jamie Tartt.

You’d have to agree with Roy’s assessment of this one, although Molly banned all talk of Jamie in the house. All it would take is for one of you to start and then you and Roy would just go at it, about how he was a little prick and far too self-righteous and how his stupid, awful hair was nothing compared to his stupid, awful face.

You were glad when he was kicked off the team.

You were upset when he came back.

But, he started hanging around.

His hair was less stupid and his face was less prick-ish, especially when he was cracking dumb jokes to make you laugh.

He’d talk to you while you waited for Roy, then slip away as soon as he appeared.

Jamie-talk was less banned around the house now, but you still didn’t engage. Roy didn’t notice but Molly did, because she cornered you on one of her rare days off to ask you about it.

“You like Jamie,” she states, as you were elbow-deep in dishes.

You look at her, alarmed. “What? No, I don’t. He’s a prick.”

Molly raises an eyebrow (a family trait Phoebe has not yet mastered). “Then why don’t you talk about him?”

You shrug as best you can without flinging soap. “Like I said, he’s a prick. And you were the one who said we couldn’t talk about him.”

Molly returns your shrug. “That was because you both were feeding off each other’s nasty energy. Didn’t want it around Phoebe. But Roy obviously doesn’t hate him anymore, and you’re clearly head-over-heels for him.”

The plate you’re scrubbing slips from your grasp, splashing both you and Molly.

“What makes you say that?” you ask, as casually as possible.

Molly laughs. “Not sure if you’ve forgotten, but I am your older sister. I know more about you than you know about yourself.”

“Fine,” you say, dropping a fork back into the water. “He asked me out two days ago and I said yes because I do like him, but I don’t want Roy finding out, so you’d better not tell him!”

Molly grins. “Fuckin’ knew it. My lips are sealed.”

—

You’re successfully sneaking around Roy for one month, when the shoe drops. You and Jamie had been taking Phoebe out about once a week when you were positive Roy was either out of town or “getting his old-man rest,” as you like to call it. Seriously, that man could sleep an entire weekend away.

This time, he and Molly have something at Phoebe’s school. She insisted he come because, quote, “I’m not braving those crazy mums by myself, and you’re scary enough to keep them away.”

Roy says yes, obviously, because he’d do anything for Molly. You would too, which is why you, Phoebe, and Jamie are strolling around Richmond, and why she and Jamie are trying to convince you of their need for ice cream sandwiches.

“Pheebs, we literally just had ice cream cones. Why do you need an ice cream sandwich?”

“Because it’s lunch time.” The duh in her voice is heavily implied.

“And, babe, you have sandwiches at lunch,” Jamie adds.

“It’s a totally different food group,” Phoebe agrees.

You roll your eyes. “Babes, Moll will absolutely kill me if I let you. No way.”

You’re saved from their rebuttal by a voice saying, “What the fuck is Tartt doing here?”

The three of you jump, startled, and you and Jamie unclasp hands. You turn to see a frowning Roy.

“Roy!” you say, unconvincing smile on your face, “I thought you were at Phoebe’s school. Where’s Molls?”

Roy’s glare never leaves Jamie’s face. “We left early. Now answer the fucking question.”

You can see Phoebe starting her mental tab of Roy’s swear words. Of all the times not to have her notebook handy.

She knows neither you nor Jamie are going to be able to come up with a coherent response so she says, “Uncle Jamie picked us up to get ice cream.”

This registers with Roy, possibly a little too well, because he steps closer to Jamie and growls, “Hang on. Why the fuck does she call you ‘Uncle Jamie?’”

Jamie shrugs, grateful for any moment he’s still breathing. “Dunno. For me lovable personality?”

“No,” says Phoebe, “it’s because you’re dating my aunt so that makes you my uncle!”

Roy turns on Jamie. “You’re fucking what?”

Jamie holds up his hands. “In my defense, I wanted to tell ya. She thought you’d be mad.” He points at you.

“Was I wrong?” you ask, arms crossed, “Or is this another thing you’re going to be overprotective about?”

You can see Roy’s self-control working overtime as he tries to figure out a response that is going to a) not make you mad b) irritate Jamie and c) be appropriate for Phoebe’s ears. He finally settles on a strained, “Great,” and you smile.

“I love Uncle Jamie,” Phoebe says, fully aware of everything Roy is thinking. “He buys me ice cream and makes us laugh.”

Roy gives you a look that says, we’re fucking talking about this later and you pretend not to see it. You feel for Jamie. You have a feeling that 4am practices are about to get a lot more hellish.

At least you won’t be alone for Roy’s interrogation. You know he’s going to lose his fucking mind when he hears Molly knew this whole time.

You don’t worry about it yet, though. Right now you just listen to Jamie and Phoebe swear to Roy they haven’t had the chance to get their ice creams yet, and maybe he should take them because it’s getting close to lunch time and they’re quite hungry?

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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katsu28 · 9 months

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hiii request for jamie tartt here🫡 i loved ur recent fic sm!!! could you maybe do the acacia flower or sunflower prompt? in my head i see hiding their relationship bc reader is a teammates sibling, but oopsie someone got heart eyes and started rambling haha

or literally anything else is fine too if this doesn’t strike your fancy lol<3 tysm!!!

hello!! i loved this so much, u are a gem for requesting it <3

acacia: a hidden relationship + sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, jamie tartt x kent!reader (no physical descriptors so imagine whatever sibling type u want!), 2k

“Are you sure we can’t tell him about us?” Jamie’s voice from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror pulled you away from your book and you glanced over at him.

This was a question he posed to you all the time, and every single time, your answer was the same—though getting more creative with the details with every occurance.

“Do you want my brother to gouge your eyeballs out? Cut off your dick? Possibly murder you?”

Jamie paled, freezing in place. “Not particularly.”

“Then no, we can’t tell Roy we’re seeing each other.” You picked up your book again, ready to resume your reading, but Jamie let out a noise resembling that of a kicked puppy’s whine. His shoulders slumped and he trudged over to you, throwing himself down on the bed in front of your crossed legs.

Setting your book aside for good this time, you watched him make himself comfortable with his head in your lap, cheek pressed against your thigh as he looked up at you with the puppy dog eyes to match his previous whine.

“I hate all the secrets. I have to lie to him, straight to his scary face, every fuckin’ day. D’you know how stressful that is? How stressed I am?” He huffed. You bumped your knuckles against his chin affectionately.

It wasn’t fair, Jamie having to face Roy and lie everyday when you had to do it a tad less often, but it was a necessary evil. One day, you’d tell your brother, but first you had to figure out how.

This, among other reasons, were the downsides to being in a secret relationship with Jamie. There were tons of upsides too, no doubt about it.

You had the privilege of seeing a softer, sweeter side of him that was reserved only for you, but you couldn’t go out in public with him. Nights in were your favorite dates, but sometimes you wanted to go to a fancy restaurant and eat expensive food and share a dessert with your boyfriend without needing to worry about the tabloids having a field day of it all.

You could already see the headlines if the press ever caught wind of your relationship—AFC Ricmond Star Jamie Tartt Bags Manager Roy Kent’s Sister. They’d stir shit up, claim that Jamie was only with you because your brother was in a position of power over him and who knows what else.

Most of all, you certainly couldn’t let Roy find out you were seeing one of his players, especially not Jamie fucking Tartt. They were friends now, but he’d always been overly protective of his sisters ever since you were all kids. He’d throw a fit and probably kill Jamie, then you. Well, he probably wouldn’t go that far, but you’d definitely be on his bad side until he got over himself. And you loved your brother to death, but he was a dickhead sometimes.

“I’m gonna get early wrinkles, love. You don’t want me to have those, do ya?”

“I think you’d look adorable with wrinkles. Like a cute little old man.” You dotted a kiss to his forehead, attempting to smooth out the crinkle between his eyebrows with your thumb.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a bit funny.”

“Right, since you obviously don’t appreciate my problems, I’m off.” Jamie heaved himself off the bed, forcing out a rather overexaggerated sigh. You smiled innocently at him and he rolled his eyes, his own soft smile still on his face. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before heading for the door. “Dunno when I’ll be back but don’t wait up for me, yeah?”

“Have fun, my love. I’ll just be here, thinking about you with wrinkles.”

“Still not funny!”

The Greyhounds were out in full swing tonight. Colin had somehow managed to book an entire pub for a whole night so they could drink and have a good time without being swarmed by the press vying for any morsel of gossip about one of the best up and coming Premier League clubs. Good friends, good food, even better beer—what more could anyone ask for?

Jamie had been taking full advantage of it. That, paired with the fact that he no longer had to follow that god awful diet that deprived him of his beloved ice cold beverage, had led him to where he was right now, leaning heavily against the bar, drunk off his ass due to some sort of drinking game Jan Maas had insisted on teaching him.

See, tipsy Jamie was fun. Very generous, would offer to buy a round or two, good for a few funny stories the next day. Absolutely pissed Jamie was a textbook oversharer. He didn’t make much sense, so everyone just mumbled a ‘very cool, mate!’ or something of the sort, made sure he didn’t topple over—those kinds of things.

Roy was nursing his own beer next to Jamie tonight, half-listening in contained amusement as the Mancunian babbled on and on about someone. Who the fuck it was, Roy had no idea, but it was good entertainment and had soon garnered the attention of the rest of the team. Maybe this could be another one of those funny stories they could joke about in the locker room tomorrow.

“She don’t look anythin’ like you, thank god. Imagine—imagine that! A lady Roy. Shit’s mad!” Jamie mused, amber beer spilling over the lip of the pint. “Nah, she’s the prettiest and the funniest and the coolest person ever and I love her.”

“Who the fuck are you talkin ‘bout, bruv?” Isaac asked incredulously, looking just as amused as everyone else.

“Mate, I’m talkin’ ‘bout me girlfriend,” Jamie said very as-a-matter-of-factly, like they should’ve known that. “Duh.”

“You’ve got a girlfriend? Since fucking when?”

Jamie counted off on his fingers, scrunching his nose in thought. “Erm…four, five months? Maybe six?” He shook his head quickly, correcting himself. “No, not six. Would’ve done something special for six, wouldn’t I?”

“First I’m hearing of it. How ‘bout you boys, did you know Jamie had a girlfriend?” Isaac asked, looking around. A chorus of ‘no’s and similar answers sounded amongst the others. Jamie’s brow furrowed. “It’s settled then. Who’s got the heart of the great Jamie Tartt?”

“Good rhyme, boyo!” Colin chimed in, clapping his best friend on the back.

Isaac looked proud of himself. “Whoa. I’m a fucking poet and I didn’t even know it.” He accepted another few praises before turning his attention back to Jamie, who looked like he was thinking really long and hard about something. “Okay, back to you. Tell us about her.”

“I don’t even know where t’start, man,” Jamie sighed happily, resting his chin in his palm. “She’s kind and warm and—and she knows me better than anyone. It’s like…it’s like she’s an angel.”

It was kind of weird, hearing Jamie be so open about his feelings for another person. He’d always been one to play things close to the vest, so that’s how they knew things with this secret girlfriend had to be serious.

Sam beamed, happy as ever that his friend had found someone special. “Surely the angel from above has a name? Maybe one of us knows her?”

“Y/N.”

The room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at Roy, who looked like he was about to start punching dicks.

“Y/N, like…Roy’s sister, that Y/N?” Sam replied hesitantly, drawing pointed looks from every single one of his teammates. “I’m just confirming! There are other people named Y/N in London, you know.”

Jamie pointed in his teammate’s general direction, nodding aimlessly. “Yep, her. That’s my girl.”

Roy stood from his seat without a word, grabbing Jamie under the arm and dragging him towards the door.

“Hey man, what the fuck are you—”

“Just fucking shut up, will you?”

“Okay.”

You were about to call it quits on finishing your book and turn in for the night when the doorbell rang. When you went to open it, you definitely weren’t expecting to see your brother standing on your doorstep, practically carrying your half asleep boyfriend and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Your prick boyfriend got proper pissed. Where do I put him?”

So Roy knew. And judging by the way Jamie was swaying on his feet, you guessed that he’d been the one to let the cat out of the bag.

“Erm, couch is fine. I’ll get him settled later.” You opened the door a little wider to let them in and Roy grunted his acknowledgement, hauling Jamie over to the couch and promptly dumping him onto the cushions.

Jamie didn’t even flinch when his face hit the pillows, instead just letting out a dreamy sort of sigh and smacking his lips together without even opening his eyes. You were the one to roll him over onto his side, nudging the dustbin right near his head before covering him with a blanket.

“How much did he drink?” You asked, smoothing the walnut mist strands away from his eyes.

“Too fucking much, that’s how much.” Roy grumbled. He wandered over towards a different area of your flat, not wanting to wake Jamie. “Jan Maas taught him a Dutch drinking game, except that fucker can actually hold his alcohol.”

You cast a fond glance back at your boyfriend, smiling softly at his peaceful face. “Yeah, this one can’t really drink much anymore. Said it’s because of your training regimen, the no beer thing.”

“Of fucking course you’d know.”

“I assume Jamie told you about us.” You said quietly, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your jumper instead of looking at Roy. Another vague low noise of acknowledgement from him, though it sounded a bit more strained this time. “If it helps you come to terms, Jamie’s been wanting to tell you for ages. I was the one who wanted to keep it under wraps.”

“Why?”

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “‘Cause I knew what you’d think. Knew what you’d have to say about it.”

“Are you a mindreader?”

“No.”

“Then how would you know what I’d think?”

“Oh come on, Roy, you don’t think I know how you are? You get…dickish. I still remember you scaring off poor Billy Montgomery in year nine!”

“Billy Montgomery was a fucking wanker, that’s why.”

“Yeah, I know that now,” You huffed, scowling. Roy raised an expectant brow at you. “You’ve always been outspoken about the people I date. I just—I didn’t want you to be that way with Jamie. I know you’ve had your differences, and I know you’ve made up, but…I dunno, I was just worried about what you’d think of us.”

“Do you love him?” Roy asked stiffly. There was a tic going in the hard line of his jaw when he forced his gaze to yours, and it almost looked like he was in the middle of shitting a brick. If you hadn’t been so nervous about his reaction, you probably would’ve laughed.

“I do. A lot, actually. He’s…everything I could’ve asked for. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.”

“Then it shouldn’t fucking matter what I think.” Roy said. “Jamie makes you happy, and that is the only thing that matters.”

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You’d been so worried about how you thought your brother was going to react to the news, you never stopped to consider that maybe Jamie wasn’t the only person who’d been working to change for the better.

“Thank you, Roy.”

Caught up in your heartfelt sibling talk, neither of you had noticed Jamie had woken up and stumbled over to the two of you until he gathered the two of you into a rather squished hug.

“My two favorite people, the Kent siblings! You guys are the best!” He slurred, nuzzling into the embrace. Roy let out a growl, but he patted Jamie’s back stiffly nonetheless. You had to stifle another laugh at how utterly uncomfortable he looked right now. “Oh fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up—”

“That’s it, I’m fucking leaving.” Roy shoved Jamie away from him, wiping his hands off on the front of his jacket and heading for the front door. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit and tell him he’s still got training tomorrow, I don’t care how shitty he feels!”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt fluff #jamie fartt one shot #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x kent!reader #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

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HE’S NOT YOU — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: as a chelsea women’s player, you’re well acquainted with the men’s team too. given that before you signed for chelsea you had joked that mason mount was your only other footballer crush, jamie is less than impressed by your friendship.

warnings: swearing, jealous!jamie (can regular readers tell i’m a sucker for jealousy fics lmao), also ft. roy being an advice giving legend. soft in the end <3

author’s note: i picked mason because i love him lol sorry this was self-indulgent. based on a request for jealous jamie :-) enjoy & thank u as ever for reading x

“You comin’ over tonight then, babe?”

Jamie’s eyes bored into yours as his hands firmly gripped your waist, both of you leaning on the wall of the Richmond changing room about to head out.

You’d come to watch him train early, as you had the weekend off training yourself and wanted a little extra time with your boyfriend.

Well, that and you’d made evening plans with some of your Chelsea teammates and the men’s team too, and you didn’t want Jamie to be disappointed when you reminded him you were busy tonight.

“Sorry baby, I’ve got plans with the squad tonight, remember?” you pouted, and you watched his face drop, “I mean— you can come too if you’d like?”

“Is it just your squad or… like, Chelsea?”

You narrowed your eyes at this question, but before you could ask why it mattered, your phone buzzed and you pulled it out to see a message in your group chat.

MASON: what time did we agree again?

Jamie couldn’t help the way that his eyes snapped down to your phone, and you noticed the scowl that spread on his face at the sight of the message.

“Yeah, you know what, I will come,” he puffed out his chest a little, standing up straight and running a hand through his hair, “What’s the plan, princess?”

You were more than confused by his reaction, “Uh, we’re just going to get drinks somewhere. Are you alright? Why do you look like I’ve just hidden your hair products and not like I’ve invited you on a night out?”

He crossed his arms over his chest with a scoff, “I don’t. Am fine. Text me where to meet you and I’ll be there. See you later, babe.”

Before you could ask again why he was being so strange about this, he’d kissed you on the forehead and turned to leave.

“I’m guessing by the look on his face, that message was from Mason Mount?” suddenly Roy Kent had appeared at your side, his arms crossed and his brow quirked.

You nodded, but huffed as you replied, “Yeah it was. But what does that matter?”

You had been surprised with how close you’d become to Roy in the time that you’d known him — both as a legend at your own club and one at Richmond.

But, and in particular when you started dating Jamie, he’d been like an older brother to you — always checking in to make sure Jamie treated you right, giving you advice (as best as the grumpy old man could, anyway).

You were eternally grateful for how he treated you, though right now you had no fucking clue what he was talking about.

“C’mon, Y/N/N,” he raised his eyebrow even more, like you were an idiot for not realising the problem. Maybe you were, “Before you signed for Chelsea, you told Jamie that you had a thing for Mason. However stupid your little crush was, he’s obviously not happy that you’re friends with him now.”

Wow. Okay.

“We’re just friends, though, and it’s not like I’d be spending the night alone with him,” you frowned, feeling guilty that your boyfriend felt that way and that he didn’t feel that he could talk to you about it.

“It doesn’t help that Jamie’s had a tough season and your new star boy mate is this season’s top scorer (a/n: 😐 like i said, self-indulgent lol) and he plays for your club,” Roy shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “He just sees him as competition. And he’s not going to tell you that.”

Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, “Thanks Roy, you’re the best. I’m gonna go speak to him about it.”

“Oi, oi,” he pulled back a little, but not entirely as this was you, “Alright. Go get him out of his little tantrum. And say hi to the Chelsea lot for me.”

“Will do, Kent, will do.”

You pulled out your phone again as he walked away with a low chuckle.

Y/N: J, babe, where are you? can i come get ready at yours tonight please? x

JAMIE: you sure you want to? but yeah sure x

Y/N: don’t be daft, of course i do. i’ve got some stuff to do quickly and then i’ll be at yours, ok? x

JAMIE: ok, princess. see you soon x

You turned up to his house two hours later, and when you knocked the front door he answered in seconds, like he’d been anxiously waiting for you.

You slung your bag down from your shoulder, placing it by the front door and scooping your arms around your neck to kiss him, “Hey, baby.”

“Hiya,” he smiled, kissing you back for a moment, “What made ya want to come here and get ready?”

He seemed uncharacteristically shy as he asked this, as though he was worried about your answer.

“You want the honest answer?”

“Well, yeah. Course. Unless it’s bad. Is it bad?”

“Roy told me how you feel about me being mates with Mase,” okay, maybe you shouldn’t have called him that in this conversation, but you pressed on, “I wanted to talk to you about it, because I didn’t realise you felt like that.”

He swallowed thickly, frowning down at you as you followed him into the living room to continue the conversation.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’re seeing him behind me back or something? Or that you don’t want me to come tonight?”

You sighed, shaking your head and grabbing both of his hands in yours, “The opposite, J.”

He shrugged, “I’d get it. He’s Mason fuckin’ Mount and you’ve fancied him forever. At least his club don’t hate him (a/n: once again self indulgent here) and he’s scoring goals left right and fucking centre at the minute.”

Once again you hooked your arms around him, pulling him closer to you as you forced eye contact.

“Jam, I’m not seeing him and I wouldn’t want to. I have you, and you’re all I want. Sure, I do think you’re fit as fuck on the pitch, but I don’t just fancy you ‘cause you’re a good footballer,” you pleaded with him, and his face softened, “I don’t have a thing for Mason, and scoring goals is hardly gonna swing that for me. I joked that I thought he was attractive before I knew him, yeah, but he’s just a mate and I don’t look at him like that. He’s not you, Jamie, he’ll never be you.”

He seemed half-satisfied by this for a moment, before gritting his teeth and shaking his head, “He plays for your club though, you go for coffee all the time, you have a laugh with him while I’ve been a miserable prick ‘cause I’m playing like fuckin’ shit at the moment.”

It broke your heart to hear him say that, and suddenly you felt like an absolute arsehole for not noticing how he felt sooner and doing something about it.

“Who he plays for doesn’t matter, neither does the fact I like his company as a friend,” you pouted, “But I haven’t done a good enough job of making that clear, and I promise I’ll make sure I do in future because I never want you to feel insecure. I love you, J. Just you. And the fact that you’re struggling at the moment just makes me want to help you, not fuck you off for someone else.”

He kissed you softly, a sort of subtle thank you gesture for your words, even though you weren’t sure he entirely believed them.

He’d never been insecure before, always so certain of himself.

But when it came to you, he was always worried that he wasn’t good enough and you’d realise that eventually.

“We don’t have to go tonight, you know that yeah?” you asked, pushing a hair that had fallen from behind his hair band into his face, “We can do something just me and you. Or stay in.”

He shook his head, “Nah, we should go. It’ll be fun, and I probably should meet him without being a prick to him because I get so jealous that I usually am.”

“It’s fair enough,” you shrugged, “But he’s lovely, and he’s a big fan of you. Thinks you’re class, and wants you to sign for us if anything.”

This seemed to perk Jamie up more, both because it meant Mason was well aware you were taken and because he thought he was class.

“Maybe I should,” he smirked, kissing your nose.

“Now c’mon, if we’re going out I need to get ready,” you hummed, “I look like shit and if I’m going to show up with my hot boyfriend for the first time, I have to try and look at least slightly close to your league.”

He scoffed, “Don’t be daft, you’re gorgeous. World class. Can’t wait to show off my girl.”

You beamed, blushing crimson under his intense gaze before he leaned in and kissed you again.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d ever want anyone else when I’ve got Jamie fuckin’ Tartt, eh?”

“You know what, princess, you’re right.”

———

thank you for reading !!! i hope this was okay, sorry if it’s a little messy but it was fun to write because i <3 soft jamie and also love mason mount ridiculous amounts lmao so this was based on a jealousy request but also v self indulgent.

if you have more requests please let me know — and in the meantime here is my masterlist!

#jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt jealous #mason mount

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jamietwat · 2 months

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Jamie and Roy spending ridiculous amounts of time together and Phoebe knowing about it definitely means that Jamie’s around Phoebe a lot more in the off-season when she’s off school and Roy’s off work but still being Jamie’s personal trainer for free (and she definitely likes bossing Jamie around just as much as Roy does and finds the ridiculous shit Roy makes him do hilarious)

And you know that thing where kids love to randomly go watch this, I can do a somersault or want to see me do a cartwheel? and then you just have to awkwardly stand there and be like wow whether they actually can do them or not (and sometimes several times in a row have to try to think of something new to say the fifth time they do the exact same thing and then look to you for a reaction)

I’m just saying at some point they’re in some park and Phoebe definitely pulls a look how good I’m getting at cart wheels, Uncle Roy! around Jamie at some point and while Roy just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ and gives compliments that gradually get more and more deadpan and debates turning it into saying how much more impressive that is than anything Jamie’s done all morning but he doesn’t because he’s 90% sure that would just lead to Jamie getting all indignant and competitive and proving he can cartwheel too as if Roy isn’t already annoyingly aware of that from when he was dying trying to keep up with Jamie in Amsterdam while he was cartwheeling and practically skipping

But obviously Roy not saying anything doesn’t matter anyway and Jamie turns it into being like watch this to Phoebe and cartwheeling too and turning to Roy after like well go on, tell me how good I am at that too

Roy deadpans somehow it’s far less impressive watching a grown man cartwheel for attention. It’s just sad, really

But Jamie isn’t offended at all and just shoots Roy an obnoxious smirk and insists you’re just saying that because you know you couldn’t do one. Even trying would probably end with you needing a hip replacement or something

But before Roy can even properly argue or say something bitchy back, Jamie’s turning back to Phoebe with a how about this then? But even though it’s her he asks, it’s Roy he looks to the moment he finishes running a few steps and doing a one-handed cartwheel

And Jamie’s like well now are you impressed??? And god, Roy resents that he is and he could make a dig about how useless of a skill it was as an adult and how that wouldn’t accomplish anything on the pitch and he’d just look like one of the kids that picks flowers on the pitch instead of playing or even paying attention to where the ball is, but instead he rolls his eyes and says yeah okay

And Jamie beams but he doesn’t have time to properly gloat and give Roy shit because Phoebe’s already bossing him around telling him that he has to teach her how to do that too

#I’ve been debating putting this in one of my fics for months and still may #Meanwhile if Keeley saw Jamie cartwheel for attention and praise she’d be like I never know what to do when a grown man does a cartwheel in #front of me…#Keeley would be underwhelmed watching Jamie do a cartwheel but also 100% would attempt one and join in if Phoebe asked her to #Phoebe definitely got into football because of Roy #But I could also see her getting into gymnastics too because of Jamie indulging her and being just as eager to do the same little kid tricks #And then she sees someone else on the team do a flip showing off and them all arguing over whether they could do a flip too if they tried #And attempting with various results and she’s like well I want to be able to do a flip too and talks her mom #into signing her up for gymnastics and then talks Jamie’s ear off about her gymnastics class and the little kid tea from it because he’s #sure to match her energy and buy into it like he always does #Roy Kent #Jamie Tartt #Phoebe O’Sullivan #Ted Lasso #RoyJamie #Mine #I don’t have the energy or brainpower to reread this as usual so enjoy the typos and whatever autocorrect changes things too 😂

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faithinchances · 3 months

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Hit me with more of Roy conned Jamie into being nice and City is mad about it. I remember the concept and am face pressed against glass!

The basics of the original concept from @jamiesfootball are that Roy accidentally puts Jamie on a niceness points system so they can be friends, wherein Jamie gets to be a dick once for every four times he does something nice, with plenty of shenanigans along the way and everything is fun and hilarious until Jamie gets sent back to City which is when I get to make it sad and dramatic (ie, Jamie spends his nice points on his teammates/Pep/everyone else at City, and his dick points on Sr with the predicted results)

Jamie is an asshole at Richmond, in a way which is pretty well on par with the people around him, except that the narrative frames them well and Jamie poorly. Isaac and Colin do the brunt of the on-screen bullying but we're supposed to blame Jamie because he laughs at it. Roy humiliates Jamie by framing his embarassment as the funniest thing Roy has ever seen except that it's okay because Jamie is an asshole. Ted yells at Jamie for being hurt and unable to train, which is cool because Jamie is "obviously" faking an injury to get back at Ted for benching him.

Basically everything and everyone kind of sucked.

Take him out of that and put him in a functional dressing room with a good coach and lower pressure overall, and I don't think Jamie would behave that way. I don't think he ever behaved that way at City.

So Jamie goes back to City, a place where he never was much of a prick to begin with (except to the opposition team, because that is part of the sport), and has a casual identity crisis in the back of every shot.

He is touch-starved, being very very good, and blatantly and obviously anxiety-ridden, and all of this in ways which he hadn't been the year before.

Someone: *gets tackled kind of rough by someone on the other team* Jamie: Pep put me on put me on I will break his ankles and restore our honour Pep: ... no... ... Jamie are you doing okay? Jamie: Yes Pep all is well and good, I am just using a nice point. Pep: I'm going to think about what that means some other time. Jamie on the inside: oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

Meanwhile, Jamie is gradually racking up bruises, injuries, and sore spots because he is constantly pushing Sr's buttons so he can pretend that he's still 20% an asshole, and City desperately want to know what Richmond did to their previously nice, normal teammate for him to come back as this clicker-trained attack chihuahua.

(sidenote, I headcanon Jamie as struggling with statistics and numbers games. That he doesn't play FIFA because he worries about how wanting to maximize his ingame stats could negatively affect how he plays in real life. That the only person he's willing to take statistics from are the tactical scouts (a position at a club where you study the upcoming opponent to learn their strategies and tendencies to better prepare the players to face them) because he doesn't want to wind up maximizing his pass completion percentage by no longer taking good risks on through balls or crosses. He's a numbers guy in a way which is sometimes a problem, and is definitely a problem here.)

(a different sidenote, Roy's poor opinion of Jamie was probably a torpedo to his self-confidence. He probably always struggled with both, in some part due to Sr's abuse, but he worshipped Roy. And Roy hated him.)

Hence: an intervention.

Someone, either the captain group (football teams will have ~4 captains with an internal hierarchy, since there has to be a captain on the pitch but no one can actually play every minute of a season) or Pep, sits Jamie down for a chat about how concerned they all are about him and Jamie what is a nice point, what is a prick point, Jamie you were already nice. We already liked you. But right now you're scaring us. You're hurt. Jamie who are you using your prick points on. Jamie? Jamie?

#child abuse tw #ted lasso #jamie tartt #fanfic

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buckychristwrites · 10 months

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I am OBSESSED with your drabbles!!! Can I request “you weren’t supposed to hear that”? Maybe something fluffy like Jamie planning a proposal? ♥️

78.) "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"I think I might be in love with her."

You froze at the doorway, leaning against the wall so you wouldn't be seen. When you peaked your head in, you could see Roy sitting on the bench, his arms resting on his knees. He was slowly looking back and forth in front of him, which made you assume Jamie was standing and pacing.

"I thought you hated her," Roy said, more of a question than a statement.

"I thought I did too, but fuuuuuuck." His voice was muffled, as if he were burying his face in his hands. "I can't explain it, mate."

"I don't think I want you to," Roy replied.

"And now she has a date with Jan Maas," He said, sounding disgusted. "Of all fuckin' people. Jan fuckin' Maas."

You'd heard enough.

"Maybe you should tell her how you feel then."

The both of them jumped, Jamie slipping and falling to the floor. The shock was so real that Roy wasn't even able to laugh at Jamie's pain.

"Oi," Jamie said as he scrambled to his feet. "Were you eavesdroppin'?"

"Obviously," You replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You weren't supposed to hear that," He said. You shrugged.

"Well, I did," You said. Roy was looking between the two of you, in a mix of pure disdain and curiosity. The eye contact locked between you and Jamie never faltered. "So what are you going to do about it?"

He stood up a little straighter.

"Tell her I'm in love with her."

"So do it."

"I'm in love with ya."

Even though you had known all along that he was talking about you, hearing him say it made you wanna run laps around the pitch.

"I guess I have a date to cancel then, don't I?"

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt headcanon #stinkysteveharrington #answered

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lokiiied · 1 year

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okay since roy wasn't in the locker room when the entire team clocked jamie as gay so I thought like what if roy knows he has a crush on jamie but thinks it's never gonna happen because he is 100% sure jamie is straight because he slept with so many women over the years oblivious about the fact that everyone clocks jamie as gay and then pining happens

no i don’t think you understand anon this is driving me INSANE. cuz obviously roy needed to be the one to go and talk to isaac since he’s the one who made him captain and they both have a tendency to let their anger build up etc. it was a really important moment.

but also interesting how they were the two people who, in that moment, we most wanted to be in the locker room.

obviously isaac, being colin’s best friend, who wasn’t there when he came out to the entire team.

and then roy, who, i am convinced if he was in the room jamie would have totally played up his reaction to the team clocking him as queer wayy more for roy. like, yjk he would have made direct eye contact with roy and back to the team with his hand to his heart like, “oh boys, i’m flattered…feels good to be seen.” and then done a subtle wink at roy or smth.

and can you imagine roy’s reaction to that?? he’d go all red and excuse himself to the boot room and after a couple minutes jamie’d come in n be like “hey?” and roy’d turn around furious and say “what the fuck was that?” and jamie, all tease would ask, “what was what?” and roy’d say, “you know what. just now. you winking at me and shit in front of everyone. it was fucking embarassing—” and jamie’d take a step forward, “why? you flirt with me in front of everyone all the time—” and roy’d scoff and say, “flirt? i don’t flirt with you, jamie. i’m your coach. that would be completely—” and jamie’d close the gap and cautiously bring his hands to roy’s shoulders, “roy, mate…calm down” and first roy would growl and then he’d take a breath, holding eye contact with jamie and exhale. jamie’d lower his hands and tuck them under his shirt like he does and take a small step back.

“i weren’t flirting…exactleh. i mean…unless you wanted it to be. i just…wanted you to know that i’m not straight either.” and roy’s expression would soften and he’d swallow his misdirected anger in exchange for nervous inquiry. “why?” and jamie’d look down at his shifting feet and shrug, “dunno. just thought you might wanna know.” then he’d look back up to meet roy’s eyes, searching them for some sort of signal as to how he felt about that answer…before remembering it was only half time. “uh, right then. i should probableh…” he’d point towards the door and pull roy back into reality with him. the pitch and the players and fans awaiting them outside. “right” would be all he could manage to get past his tongue. and jamie’d nod, “coach.” and pivot towards the door, his glance lingering for a moment past the shelves adjacent to roy. “william” he’d address the space before leaving roy standing there suddenly aware of the remaining presence.

“fuuuck.”

“i heard nothing” will promised, hands up in surrender. and roy growled just as a finger tapped at the window. he turned to see ted giving him a face as if asking, everything okay in there? and roy gave him a nod as if to answer, be out in a sec. but just as his hand was on door he heard a theatric throat clearing from behind. “fucks sake.” he turned to face the kitman.

“i know it’s absolutely none of my business—”

“this had better be the most fucking insightful shit i’ve ever heard in my fucking life kitman, or i swear to god you’ll have to to legally change your last name to i-couldn’t-keep-my-mouth-shut-when-professionally-appropriate-so-i-had-to-move-back-in-with-my-mum.”

will swallowed, eyes wide, and nodded. “um right then. okay, well…i think the worst thing you can do to yourself to is to…limit…or—” roy raised his eyebrows. “uh, confine ourselves to labels and boxes that we - or society - have put us in. i think it’s the most wonderful thing to see yourself opening up to new possibilities…to let go of binaries and stop restricting yourself - and others - from the fluidity of life’s experiences.” another, much more modest throat clear.

and roy would “hm” before leaving the boot room and taking his place on the pitch next to ted, opposite of beard. both turning their heads to roy, eyebrows raised, and roy giving a curt nod, which they mirrored before all three returning their attention to the game.

but roy’s head was not in the game. it wouldn’t be there tonight as he’d lie in bed trying to fall asleep. and it definitely wouldn’t be there tomorrow at 4am.

—

just so you all know…this was the writing i lost last night when my tumblr refreshed without wifi and apparently hadn’t saved any of it lol.

but luckily i am high rn and was able to remember almost word for word what i’d written so here you go.

#anon i know you did not ask for this lmao #as you can see i got a bit carried away there #whoops #ik i changed tenses like halfway through just ignore it #i am not a fic writer this is very amateur #it was just in my brain and i needed it out there #jamie tartt #roy kent #roy x jamie #ted lasso

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hopefulromances · 3 months

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Hey! Hope you're still accepting requests :))

Roy/Jamie are my boys and hurt/comfort is my jam, so I wanted to suggest Roy being self-conscious about something (his knee or age are always convenient but maybe feeling like he's not in his physical prime anymore, like Jamie has a lot more (and more fit) options) and Jamie being there to build him up and make it very clear no one can compare for him.

Thank you for all your great R/J works <3

HI! Yes I am still taking requests! Thank you so much I love my crazy boys!

Roy jogged just slightly behind Jamie. It was bothering him today, his stupid knee. He had done a pretty good job of hiding it as he and Jamie rolled out of bed but it was fucking cold. He couldn't slow down, wouldn't. Jamie was bounding easily just ahead of him, smooth and graceful like Roy had once been.

As much as it pained him to say it, Roy was jealous. Jealous of Jamie, jealous of the men he saw flirt with Jamie when they were at the bar. That used to be him. Young, fit, leading the way in the league. Now he was, what? A washed up has been, figuratively -currently literally- struggling to keep with with the younger generation that had come to replace him.

He stared straight ahead, watching his breath, focusing on the visible signs that he was still breathing. That and the effortless beauty of Jamie's body. He was so good, Jamie. He'd grown so much under Roy's coaching. His body eagerly matching his ambition. His endurance and strength evolving with him as he made his way up in the league.

If he could focus on that, on Jamie, he could make it back to the house. Then he could get back in the bed and warm up his aching joints and pretend that everything was normal and okay.

"Fuck!" Of course his luck wouldn't last. One wrong step and he felt that crick in his knee, sending him stumbling to his knees.

"Roy!" Jamie whipped around and came back to help him. "Fuck, man, are you alright?"

He started to bend over to help him but Roy held up a hand with a grunt. He just needed a second. Just one fucking second to catch his breath. He balled his hands into fists, taking a deep inhale. In a second the pain would fade and he'd be able to move again.

He heard Jamie sigh and kneel down next to him. "Roy, we can go home, it's alright."

"Shut the fuck up," Roy gritted, refusing to look up. Jamie huffed, standing back up. Then he started walking away.

Roy felt his heart rate skyrocket. This was it, Jamie finally realized that Roy wasn't worth his time. That he could do better than a broken has-been who was so desperate to stay relevant. Jamie could go down the street and find any number of men or women who could keep up with him.

"Jamie, wait, where are you going?" Roy tried really hard not to sound desperate but he was failing.

"I'm going home, man," Jamie told him, shrugging. "It's fuckin' cold and you're miserable."

Roy gritted his teeth, he was not going to let Jamie get away. He pushed himself up, ignoring the grotesque noise his knee was making.

"No, I'm fine," He reached out and grabbed on to Jamie's wrist, tugging him back. "We've still got three miles left."

"You're obviously not fine, mate." Jamie gave him a look. A pitiful, horrible look that made Roy's skin crawl. "Let's just go home!"

Roy shook his head. "I'm fine. But if you want to go home! Fine! Go ahead!"

Jamie frowned, furrowing his eyes at him. But Roy was fucking stubborn, he raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to leave. The crazy thing is, he did. He just walked away, heading home, leaving Roy there on the street.

Then Roy was left standing there alone. At 5 o'clock in the morning, knee killing him, colding biting him. He didn't even run. He just stood there, silently seething, dreading returning home, knowing that when he stepped in Jamie was going to break up with him and leaving him in the dust. Just like everyone else in the fucking world.

Eventually, Roy did have to move, the cold eventually becoming too much for him. He seethed the whole time, preparing himself to strike first, to break up with Jamie before he had a chance to break up with him. Run before things can get bad. That's what Roy had done his whole life.

When he opened the door, however, he wasn't met with a conversation, but the wafting smell of tea the sound of football playing softly on the tv. Roy shut the door behind him, Jamie perking up at the sound of the door shutting.

"Welcome home!" he called, pausing the game. Roy walked forward warily, as if he was waiting for Jamie to strike. "How was the rest of your nasty run?" Roy stood staring at Jamie. Jamie held out his hands, waiting for Roy to do something. "What? You going to speak, grandad?"

"Fucking stop!" Roy barked. Jamie's grin left in an instant and he leaned back. Roy cursed under his breath. "Stop calling me fucking- grandad and the like."

"Alright, alright, calm down, man!" Jamie soothed. "Why don't you come sit down and tell me what's got your panties in a twist."

Roy grumbled deciding if he should or if he should just end this now. But Dr. Sharon said communication was key so he sat down.

Jamie scooted closer, so his leg was pressing into his. "Can I sit here?" Roy looked over at him before nodding once and letting himself relax a bit into Jamie. "Alright, now why don't you tell me what's going on in that hairy head of yours."

"You're so... fit," Roy started, feeling the cocky smirk Jamie grew. "And I'm so..." He titled his head, chewing the words in his mouth. "Old and fuckin' broken and shit." He watched Jamie open his mouth but barreled through him. "You could have anyone you wanted. Someone younger, who could keep up with you and not have to worry about their knees aching on account of the cold weather." Roy spit the words out, losing his breath as he finished. He took a deep breath, regaining his composure before finishing. "You could have someone better."

He finished and finally looked over at Jamie who was pursing his lips. He looked at Roy expectantly as if waiting for more.

"You done?" Jamie asked.

Roy nodded.

"You fucking dumb shit," Jamie scoffed.

"OI!"

"You're dead stupid you know that!" He continued, shaking his head. "You think I could do better than you? Better than Roy Kent?" Jamie tugged at Roy's shoulder, trying to get him to look at him but Roy just frowned.

Jamie sighed and rested his head on Roy's shoulder, nuzzling into his back as he tried to offer him some comfort in the only way he knew how. Physical affection.

"Roy, you're all I've ever wanted," Jamie murmured. "You challenge me, you make me laugh, you keep me safe, you know my limits and when to push them. I'm pretty sure you know me inside and out better than anyone else there is, besides me mum, maybe." He kissed Roy's shoulder, before resting his chin. "You're all I've ever wanted. And I don't want to do better than you. I just want you."

Roy looked down at Jamie perched on his shoulder. "Really?"

"Really, really," Jamie nodded.

Then Roy did something he never let himself do. He shifted to turn into Jamie, resting his head against Jamie's chest. Jamie quickly adjusted his grip, letting Roy fall on top of him as he laid down on the couch. Roy pressed his face into Jamie's heart, trying so hard to break through and rest right next to it, to stay there forever. Instead he just closed his eyes and listened to Jamie's strong, steady rhythm.

Maybe it was alright that Roy couldn't keep up in the cold anymore. Jamie could keep up enough for both of them.

#roy kent #jamie tartt #royjamie #roy kent x jamie tartt #roy x jamie #ted lasso

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lunar-years · 5 months

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and like, the thing about the amsterdam james lore was that if they wanted a james redemption, they could have used that as an opportunity to soft launch it! "my dad took me to amsterdam and we actually had a good time, but after we got back home he started drinking again and things got bad again." i still dont think thats justification for jamie reconnecting with him, but at least we could have canon evidence he was an okay dad when sober. but no, they doubled down, and made trying to kill a main character somehow *not* the worst thing james had done

Yeah I think what's most crazy is that scene solidified in my own mind so many missing pieces in my own headcanoned Jamie lore. We learnt SO much in that scene and not one single piece of information pointed towards "this is a character who is going to not only recover but act as a non-negative presence in Jamie's life."

New information I gathered from the Amsterdam scene:

As you pointed out, physical/emotional abuse of his son and nearly murdering Beard are not the topmost crimes on James Sr.'s scorecard.

leading into, Jamie is a csa victim

Jamie doesn't remember it happening. we've discussed at length what that could stem from and yes there are multiple explanations but. well. uhh. none of them are good. i think.

Others disagree, and that's completely fine, but I very much think the scene is coded as This Is The First Time Jamie Has Told Anyone What Happened and Roy is Now the Only Person Who Has this Information.

At the time of taking Jamie to Amsterdam, James Sr. was trying to get back together with Georgie and playing up the "Superdad" routine

Others disagree with this as well, but I read that line as Jamie implying it was neither the first nor last time James had tried those tactics (and possibly been successful at one or more points, we don't know one way or another)

Georgie allowed Jamie to go to Amsterdam with James and then presumably allowed James to continue seeing Jamie afterwards (we're given no information to the contrary, anyway)

So taking all of that together, to me it's not just the confirmation that the abuse Jamie suffered at his father's hands was even more abhorrent than we thought or that Jamie's trauma runs deeper than we previously thought. It's also evidence that Jamie has never been in a position where he's felt comfortable with confronting that trauma and has yet to unpack all of the things he has gone through.

Furthermore, the scene hints that what we see at the end of s3 is (imo quite possibly) not the first time James has been in rehab or at least claimed to have sobered up or shown signs of recovery, only to fall back into his old ways shortly afterwards. This is indicated by Georgie allowing him to take their son out of the country, which (considering we meet her later in the season and get a sense of her character, including her deep love for her son) I cannot imagine her doing had James been obviously still a drunk. This is also why I personally believe Jamie hasn't told her what happened, because he continues to see his father after he returns. I just can't see Georgie allowing that had she known.

None of this sets the scene for a successful James recovery arc. In fact, for me it makes the whole thing worse and so unlikely to end for good because 1) Jamie forgives his father before even processing everything his father did to him, and without informing any of the people closest to him, let alone consulting an actual professional. This to me does not indicate Jamie is in the right mental place to be embarking on this new journey. 2) There is absolutely a more-than-plausible chance James Sr.'s current rehab stint will follow the same cycle as times previous: he's better for a while. he's superdad! until he's not. and Jamie as usual becomes collateral damage.

I therefore am forced to conclude Jamie could very well be opening himself up to more hurt and more pain at his father's hands, when he hasn't even dealt with his current backload of hurt and pain. If we were supposed to feel hopeful in the final scene where Jamie visits him--I have to say, because of what THEY told us and wrote about their backstory, I feel anything but.

#jamie tartt #james tartt sr #tw csa #tw abuse #tw rape #asks #ted lasso #ted lasso critical #it's just. so badly written if they wanted us to be hopeful.#obviously I think anyone can recover even if they haven’t from past attempts but.#they gave us every reason to be worried about Jamie!! they did that!!

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thetarttfuldickhead · 8 months

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do you think how Jamie reacted to Roy and Keeley's teasing at the auction in 1x04 was related to his trauma from his Dad making him loose his virginity to a lady from the red light district? and do you think after the three of them officially get together, that they ever talk about that?

Tricky one, nonny, because as much as I tend towards Watsonian explanations over Doylist ones, in this particular case I can’t quite disregard the fact that I am not at all convinced that Jamie’s Amsterdam backstory was in place when 1x04 was written. It might have been, sure, but… yeah, I doubt it, actually.

And, like, in hindsight, after 3x06, it’s hard not to connect Jamie’s discomfort at the gala with his experiences in Amsterdam. Even if he doesn’t consciously join the dots himself, even if he’s not yet realized that the experience was traumatic to him (and I think 3x06 does suggest that it was, even if it’s possibly to argue otherwise), the notion of having to have sex with someone he doesn’t want to have sex with, especially when they’re that much older (not because having sex with old people is gross, obviously, but because it would mirror the experience he had as a child), would have made him deeply uneasy.

I mean, it would make most of us deeply uneasy, so that’s not the strange part. The strange part, really, is that Jamie believes – if only for a little while – Roy and Keeley’s assertion that he’ll need to put out. Becaue, yes, Jamie’s not always the brightest, but of course the club’s not actually pimping out the players. He knows that, surely. But for a moment he isn’t sure – and maybe that’s because it’s already happened to him, hasn’t it? Not quite like this, no, but money exchanged and him required to fuck someone he had not chosen to fuck. So, yes, things like that can happen and maybe they do happen at Richmond because Jamie didn’t see it coming the first time either, did he, but no, it’s just a fucking joke, Roy and Keeley having a laught and he looks like a right idiot now, doesn’t he, for having believed them, and he can’t even articulate (not even to himself, I think) why he thought, for a moment, that maybe…

Yeah. Makes a horrible sort of sense, doesn’t it?

So, in hindsight I think we can read his reaction being at least partially related to what was done to him in Amsterdam, and normally I’d be perfectly happy with that, actual text over authorial intent, but in this case I can’t stop wondering about what it all was originally intended to mean (if, indeed, the Amsterdam part was not known to the writers at the time of writing 1x04). Maybe it intrigues me because it has the potential to reveal more and interesting things about Jamie? I don’t know, and I don’t have any real theories either, just… something about football players being used to getting sold and traded, something about his sense of self and value directly tied to his body and what he can do with it, time spent creating his brand and the slight disassociation and/or confusion between self and image it can cause (even as I think that Jamie has a very strong sense of self generally). Given all of that, is it so outlandish for him to briefly assume that maybe this too might be required? Especially given his experiences in Amsterdam… Can be a mix of the two, really. Maybe that’s the interpreation I mostly favour.

As for if they ever talk about it... I don’t necessarily think it’s something Jamie would bring up and I doubt Roy immediately connects the dots once he hears Jamie’s tale of his first Amsterdam trip. Keeley, I think, doesn’t know what happened in the Red Light District; to me, Jamie telling Roy reads very much like a ‘first time I ever told anyone’ thing, but that’s obviously open to interpretation.

But say something reminds Roy of that gala dinner, and what was said then. Maybe they’re getting ready to attend it once more and this time they’re dead pleased to be seated at the same table, making little jokes about can you fucking imagine if someone would have told us then that this is where we’d end up and could have saved ourselves so much trouble if we’d just gone home together that night and Keeley playfully reminds Jamie that he doesn’t actually have to sleep with someone if he doesn’t want to and Jamie pouts like that shit wasn’t funny but he’s laughing too because it was long ago and they’re here now and he doesn’t tend to dwell –

– but Roy goes quiet because wait hang on oh no fuck no, and he doesn’t say anything right away, they need to get going and he’s not sure is he, and he keeps on saying nothing throughout the dinner, and behind the still face he is quietly spiralling as he watches Jamie’s every move like a hawk, every twitch of his lips and every roll of his eyes.

Jamie and Keeley both notice, and are both confused. They keep exchanging glances and when Nate’s off to the loo and Jade’s done her disappeaering act and Sam and Dani drag Jamie off to join the rest of the team for a round of shots, Keeley takes the opportunity to lean in and ask what’s going on, Roy, are you okay?

He’ll tell her then, I think, and that’s not great – not his story to share – but it’s eating at him and there’s no one else for him to confide in and Keeley is part of it too, so yes. He tells her; she’s upset but still the voice of reason; no matter what happened that night Jamie’s doing fine right now, he’s having a great time with his friends and we shouldn’t ruin that for him, but come tomorrow we’ll have a proper chat all three of us, okay, sort things out?

And come tomorrow, they do.

#had more thoughts on this than i expected to #hope they make some sort of sense to you nonny - thank you for the ask!#i'd love to hear other people's thoughts on this #because i'm not fully committed to any of these musings #like i have thoughts - apparently - but i'm very prepared to change my mind if presented with compelling arguments as to why i should #1x04 #3x06 #jamie tartt #roy kent #keeley jones #royjamiekeeley #roy x jamie x keeley #asks

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undermycoat · 9 months

Text

inspired by @izzyspussy’s prompt. hope u dont mind?? lol also tw for mention of james tartt. yknow how it is — also im thinking this takes place around the start of the season after the show ends 💚 but also (thanks nonny!) just pretend eras tour came out 2021 and barbie came out 2022 and not. now LOL

It starts as less than a handful of Tweets. Honestly, Jamie laughs at the first one, then scrolls by and completely misses the rest. And then he sees a group of lads donning West Ham merch pointing at him while on his morning run (sans Roy, who had to bow out due to a cold, the dick . . . Jamie's planning on picking him up breakfast) and whispering — but not quiet enough — that the Barbie has escaped his box. The Tweets (and comments and replies and DMs) appear more frequently after that.

The pictures of him in his pink tracksuit, tied to Roy’s bike, are passed around again. This time not by his loyal fans who begged for proper HD pics from him and thought he looked good as hell, but by the ones who call him Barbie and think his hair is blond and dumb and that he is just a dumb blond who isn’t even that good at football. At least that last bit could be easily refuted by his stats. He’s damn good at his job, and he knows it.

He doesn’t say anything about it, however, until they’re in the locker room after training, and Isaac huffs at something while looking at his phone. Jamie glances over to see him angling the screen toward him. “They’re callin’ you Barbie, bruv.”

Isaac is a really good friend, like, the best a guy could ask for. But Jamie kind of doesn’t want to think about this. “Yeah, I saw. It’s a compliment, innit? And kind of fittin’. I’m perfect, I’m everything. I am Barbie, ain’t I?”

At his easy dismissal, Isaac brightens up, grinning, and Jamie grins back. He finds the Tweet he was shown and posts a good selfie he took a few days ago, captioning it, I am everything. You wanna be Ken? It’s a bit stupid, but the insult is stupid too, so he thinks he’s allowed it.

The thing is — he wants to be unbothered by the nickname. The Barbie movie was fucking awesome, and though he’s still on thin ice with Keeley, even after their strictly-business trip to Brazil, they put aside their differences . . . that is, they put aside Jamie’s fuck-up to go and watch one of the screenings together. Yeah. It was fucking awesome. And he loves women. Like, major respect.

But the condemnations of the word are a knife’s edge away from a whiskey-tinged voice hissing soft and little bitch in his ear, and Jamie really can’t fucking deal with that right now. And he had gone and seen James in rehab, just for a couple hours, and he doesn’t regret going and seeing him, and he actually thinks it’s fucking mint the man’s getting help. He even enjoyed going through the old photos of his grandparents and James as a baby and even some of his own photos, when his mum looked a little less tired and he wasn’t afraid to smile too brightly. And in rehab, James is given limited Internet time, so the chances of him seeing the insults, seeing Jamie being called a girls’ toy, something pretty and pink, are small, and even if he does see, what can he do? They won’t just let him leave while obviously on some rampage.

It’s not like Jamie plans on going back to the man any time soon anyway. He’s not James Tartt’s anything. They just share a name. So what?

Jamie jumps at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. He pockets his phone (his Quote Tweet is now at twenty thousand likes and counting), and when he turns, it’s Roy, staring at him with those impossibly dark eyes and wild brows that make them even darker.

“Hi, coach,” he says with a grin.

Roy grunts back.

Jamie stays still for another second before blinking. “Got any wisdom for me?”

The other guys have begun to clear out, and now it’s just them and Beard still in the coaches’ office. And Will, who seems to be some metaphor for God, the way he’s always around, not even lurking, just . . . around.

Finally, Roy says, “Good pass. Don’t be late tomorrow.”

It’s so unbearably Roy that it makes Jamie sick. It also suggests there’s more he’s not saying, but Jamie isn’t sure what. He doesn’t push, however, just salutes him. “‘Course, coach,” he leans back on his heels, “dark and early, yeah?”

Roy nods, then pivots and mechanically goes back to the office. Jamie watches him go before turning and gathering his things. As he packs, he can practically feel Roy’s eyes on his back, but he knows when he turns, both him and Beard will be staring down at things on their desks. Whatever.

Jamie doesn’t run into anyone on his way out, and he’s grateful, taking a breath when he gets in his car then speeding off. He feels itchy under his skin, like when his foot falls asleep but the sensation is all over his body, and he kind of regrets leaving Nelson Road because he thinks running a few extra laps up and down the pitch would soothe him, if only a little bit. Despite this, when he gets home, he just gets out of his car and goes inside. It’s not that he’s worried about a repeat of his solo jog that one morning. It’s just really hot outside, what with it being late July and all, and he just showered, like, thirty minutes ago.

Every time a notification goes off on his phone, his stomach flips in a really awful way. Jamie turns off his phone.

Maybe now that he’s said something, it’ll die down. Since he’s made it clear he’s not bothered by it, that he can take whatever they give, they’ll stop.

And then, the first match of the season, Jamie walks onto the pitch, and a familiar song starts up. It’s not his song — but it’s certainly for him.

“Are they singing . . . ‘Barbie Girl’?” Colin asks from behind him.

“And changing the pronoun to ‘he’,” Jan adds, helpful as ever.

Jamie catches sight of one of the cameras recording the match, grins and sticks out his tongue, and when he looks to the opposing fans’ side, he even gives a little bow. Just for them. He thinks about something Lasso said to him once about bullying, after he stopped being a dick to Nate and asked why Ted never stepped in. Acknowledging it almost always makes it worse. Sorry that Jamie had believed in the ‘almost’.

;

After getting booted from Keeley’s and after a dinner at a kebab place that Jamie knows is good because Roy didn’t actually make him sit and watch — he picked bits of lamb from the skewer and placed them on the napkin in front of Jamie without a word — it’s not unusual for him and Roy to get dinner together. Sometimes it’s just them at Roy’s, who’s a better cook than his mum but not better than Simon, and sometimes it’ll be at a pub, and sometimes they’ll go to a restaurant. It was with ruddy cheeks that Roy admitted the kebab shop was like his church, but Jamie wasn’t judging. He thinks he understood the ecstasy of St Theresa after a bite of that lamb.

Tonight, however, Roy drops Jamie off at his place, and then parks the car and follows him in.

“Uh,” Jamie says when Roy stands in the entryway, a hand behind his back, posture stiff, “can I help you?”

“Go to your room,” Roy replies, and Jamie’s eyes go wide, and he says, “O-kay, Daddy,” before he backtracks, but Roy is backtracking too. “I mean, go somewhere that isn’t behind me or the kitchen.”

Jamie’s mouth drops into an ‘o’. “Right. Okay. I’ll just go to the living room, then.”

Roy nods, and Jamie walks slowly to the couch, backwards so he can watch Roy watching him.

He manages to sit still on his couch for a good two minutes, listening to Roy clattering about his kitchen, before he hops up and goes to sit at his dining table instead. It’s there that he sees a paper bag, and it takes everything in him not to peek into it. At the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, Roy leans back from where he’d had his head stuck in Jamie’s fridge, and he turns to look back at Jamie, who smiles innocently at him. He even waggles his fingers in a wave for good measure.

Roy rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling, so Jamie thinks it’s fine, and he doesn’t think about how good it feels to be the one behind Roy Kent’s smile. Roy goes back to rummaging through the fridge.

Eventually, Jamie gets roped into helping out, but all his complaints are customary, and he thinks if he had allowed himself — if he had been allowed — to dream about domesticity, this is exactly how it would’ve been. Right down to the celebrity footballer. It’s kind of perfect.

Then, Jamie’s phone goes off.

It’s his news app, which he keeps forgetting to turn off the notifications for, and it irritates him every time, but especially when he actually clicks the notification ‘cause the story looks interesting, only to find out he’s somehow already used up his articles for the month, and would he please be willing to spare a few pounds every month for more? In theory, yes, he is willing. In practice . . . he has other places to put his money.

That being said, the irritation he feels then is nothing compared to the humiliation he feels now, reading the headline: This Barbie is a Footballer: AFC Richmond Jamie Tartt’s new song.

Roy is turned the other way, so luckily, he can’t see the way Jamie’s smile immediately drops from his face. This shit isn’t even important! It’s just some stupid fan war mess, the opponents’ fans trying to get in his head, and it’s not fucking working, alright? He doesn’t care. He’s just embarrassed that it’s apparently made the news. It’s really not a big deal.

When he looks up from his phone, Roy is looking at him. Jamie swallows.

“It’s nothin’,” he tells him. “Just some politician, saying some stupid thing. Sam sent it to me to rant.”

Roy nods, but he looks like he doesn’t believe him. Jamie’s voice had wavered in the middle, so he doesn’t believe himself either. But he still doesn’t budge, just leans back against the counter and waits for Roy to either turn away or say something in return. Roy turns away. Over his shoulder, he says, “I have something for you after we eat.”

“Whatever’s in the bag?” Jamie asks. Roy grunts. “Is it concert tickets? Am I goin’ to see Taylor fucking Swift? The bag’s just to throw me off, obviously.”

“Fuck no,” Roy’s response is, pun intended, swift and immediate. Jamie grins. “You’ll see later. Just . . . wait.”

Jamie groans. “Fine. But it better be good, since you got me all excited for the concert.”

Roy gives him a stern glare. Jamie puts his hands up, then gets back to washing the dishes they’re done using.

All throughout their meal, Jamie struggles to sit still, and his eyes, without fail, return to the bag. It becomes enough of a problem that Roy takes the bag and hides it in his lap, but Jamie’s no coward, so his gaze still wanders to — well.

“The quicker you finish eating, the sooner you get to see it,” Roy growls out around his own mouthful of salmon and quinoa (Jamie was surprised he had those things in his freezer and cupboard too, but it made a damn good meal, so he’s not complaining).

Jamie grows a lot more focussed after that, and he’s done within minutes — nay, seconds. Roy raises his eyebrows in approval. Jamie licks the leftover glaze for the salmon off his fork for good measure. Roy looks down at his plate.

Once Roy finishes eating, the paper bag makes its triumphant return, Roy setting it between them. He nods his head at it, and Jamie takes it quickly, before the other can change his mind and take it back.

He doesn’t expect what he pulls out, but he feels like he should. He looks between the Barbie and Roy, who’s staring at Jamie with a gaze so intense Jamie worries he might burn up from it. If this had been bestowed to him any time the year before, especially from Roy, he’d think it a continuation of the insult. But all he feels right now is laughter, the weight in his stomach turning into something bubbly and light that works its way up his throat and past his lips. Slowly — because he’s out of practice, the old fart — Roy begins to smile back.

The stupid fucking made-to-move soccer Barbie is even wearing an England kit, and when Jamie turns her around, he grins at the number and name on the back.

“You fucking dick,” he says, the words coming out as a hiss through his teeth, that’s how hard he’s grinning.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt,” Roy replies, and Jamie wishes he had a word to describe the look the other was sending him, but the best he can do is say how it makes him feel — really fucking good; like nothing could ever hurt him; like there is no one else in the world but the two of them; like he could go win the World Cup, the FA Cup, all the Leagues, every award in the football world, and not break a single sweat. It makes him feel a lot like he’s in love.

Roy’s not done: “You are everything. Who gives a shit if some pricks call you Barbie? You fucking own it, Jamie. You are every-fucking-thing, and they’re not even Ken.”

And Jamie will make fun of him for it later, that he’s more than aware of the movie’s tagline, but at the moment, he’s clutching the Barbie to his chest like a lifeline, and he feels a sting behind his eyes, like tears are threatening to spill, and his cheeks hurt with how hard he’s smiling.

Roy clears his throat. “Phoebe said there are ways you can change the hair, but . . . don’t use heat. It’s plastic. You can cut it or dye it fucking . . . walnut haze or whatever.”

Jamie doesn’t even correct him that it’s walnut mist. He’s close enough.

He gives the doll one last squeeze. “Thanks, Roy, I mean it.”

Roy doesn’t reply, just gives a grunt and nods his head. That’s alright too. Jamie looks down at the doll again, then leans back in his seat. He holds it up to his face, angles her head so they’re cheek-to-cheek more or less.

“Like twins, ain’t we?”

And Jamie wonders if maybe there were something in the food, or maybe in their drinks, because it seems like Roy can’t stop smiling either.

;

The opposing fans are at it again. Jamie sees Roy glance back at him and grins. He considers mouthing all good, coach, but he’s more interested in using one arm to wave and the other to hold his Barbie up the same way he had when it was just him and Roy, teeth bared all the while. The crowd goes wild, of course.

He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. He’s everything. Of course no one is going to think of him as just Ken — that’s just ridiculous.

in case you can’t tell “condemnations” is supposed to be “connotations”. ily jamieisms 💚 also i wrote this rly fast on my phone so sorry & now on ao3 if u'd prefer to read it there ✌️

#my writing #royjamie #ted lasso #jamie tartt

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its-time-to-write · 10 months

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hey big fan of your writing!! you write jamie so perfectly 💜 pls forgive me if you’ve already written something about this (i haven’t been able to find it if so) but could you write something post-mom city episode with the reader taking care of jamie when he’s hurt after the game and telling him how proud she is?? 🥹 thank you!!

This one’s canon compliant with you don’t want to know me for no reason other than the fact that I like to make my fics match up. It’s fun for me to pretend like I could write something with chapters someday😇 Hope you like it!

you’re in the kitchen humming

Of course, the one game you can’t go to is the one where Jamie gets injured so badly he has to come home on crutches. He’s not even the one who texts you about it. It’s Ted who writes, Your boy got hurt pretty badly. Might want to come pick him up when we get back.

So now you’re headed to AFC Richmond because Jamie only just let you know they’re back.

we’re in the treatment room, he says, and you don’t even take a moment to ask who we is.

It’s Roy and Keeley, and you aren’t a little bit surprised. They’re been passing around a bottle and laughing, so obviously Jamie can’t be hurt that badly. His right foot is stuck in a bucket of ice, so you get him up, say goodnight to Roy and Keeley, and help him tipsily hop to your car. Jamie chatters on about the game the whole ride home, only leaving room for you to interject the occasional “mhm,” or “I’m so proud of you!”

It’s somewhat of a chore to get him out of the car, mostly because he’s laughing so hard at the sheer absurdity of the situation, humor exaggerated by the champagne.

You finally maneuver him onto the couch and get him laid down, leg elevated. He’s still giggling.

You flip on the kitchen light to make him some food. You wonder briefly how many times you’ve done this: put Jamie on the couch, made him food, and let him take you to bed. It’s been a few years’ worth.

You’re at the stove humming softly, when you hear a tap thump, tap thump as Jamie hobbles over to wrap his arms around you from behind.

“Oi, you need to be lying down, mister,” you scold.

Jamie just presses his face into the crook of your neck.

“Can’t get comfortable. I’m still in my kit and I need help getting it off.”

His words are laced with a suggestive tone, made more apparent by the fact that his hands are no longer on your waist per se, but more under your waistband.

You put down the spatula and turn off the stove.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say in a tone that means listen the fuck up, “if you want even half a chance of getting in my pants tonight, you’ll go back to the couch and put ice on your ankle.”

His hands slip away and he groans, but complies. You shake your head and slide the eggs onto a plate.

You hate eggs, but they’re Jamie’s go-to post-match food. You asked him why once, and he said something about his mum and it being the only thing she could cook without burning.

So you suck it up and make him scrambled eggs every time he comes home from a game, whether home or away. Tonight, you bring him his plate on the couch, sit next to him, and hold it for him to eat.

You say softly, “I’m really proud of you, Jaim,” as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Didn’t really get a chance to say it, but I am. You absolutely smashed it today.”

Jamie smirks. “I got your emojis,” he says. “Had twenty-one missed texts from you, none of ‘em containing a single word.” He puts down his fork and reaches into a pocket for his phone. “Got a fuck-ton of hearts, some fireworks, and one squirrel.”

You blush. Ah yes. The squirrel.

“Don’t think I can make it up the stairs,” he laments. “Might just have to stay on the couch all night. Sad. Alone. Fucking horny.”

You roll your eyes and flick his arm with your free hand. “You done eating? Because you need a shower. You smell, and I’m not fucking you until you’re clean.”

Jamie grins. “But you are going to fuck me.”

You shake your head. Yes, you are. With a goal like that, how could you not? Plus his foot’s injured, and he must be in pain. He could use a good distraction.

Jamie’s mind has to be going in a similar direction because he asks, “You gonna shower with me? I hate showering alone.”

“Obviously,” you respond. “You can barely stand on your own and you’re going to need help with your hair.”

—

This shower is a lot less sexy than some might imagine. Jamie is trying to keep his balance without putting weight on his foot, but it’s difficult because it’s slippery. You’ve made it through most of his shower routine (and yours too) but now you’re at the final step. Conditioner.

You grab the bottle and Jamie frowns. “You remember how much to use?”

You nod, but he’s not convinced. “Let me put it on your hand,” he says, grabbing the bottle and forgetting to be careful of his ankle. He puts too much weight on it and it gives out with a “fuck,” leaving Jamie’s lips.

He’s slipping and trying to grab onto something and that something is you so now you’re both tangled on the floor of the shower, water running in your faces and Jamie grimacing from pain.

—

You do manage to get him back up and condition his hair to his satisfaction (“It’s a delicate balance, babe,”) but the slip was not good for Jamie’s ankle. You have to go back downstairs for more ice, so now he’s lying flat on his back on the bed, towel wrapped precariously loose around his waist. When you’re satisfied that the ice is secure and Jamie’s foot is at a good angle, you flop down in the bed next to him. You’re still in your towel, too.

“I can’t stop thinking about that kick,” you say.

Jamie asks, “Which one? I did a lot of those,” and you laugh.

“The one to block Man City’s goal. The one where you landed wrong. It was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I’m so, so proud of you. I just can’t get over the fact that you can do all that and then you come home to me. It boggles my mind.”

Jamie’s blowing tickly breaths in your ear to make you shiver. “I was pretty sexy, weren’t I?”

You laugh again. “Everything’s always about being sexy with you, isn’t it? Sure, I’ll admit you were sexy. But you were also admirable and selfless and brave and amazing. You can’t sell yourself short.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment, and you think he’s fallen asleep. You look over to see him staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes.

You ask, “Are you crying?” and the words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying fuck no but you know he means fuck yes so you roll over to kiss him, because sometimes it’s better to leave some things unsaid. He’s pretty great, and you’re glad you’re the one who gets to tell him.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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thepunkmuppet · 8 months

Text

ok I’m so sorry guys but actually genuinely why is ted and trent like the main ship for this show. I love them both very dearly and they have very gay vibes in a couple scenes that are undeniable but overall.... ??? why the hype??

this is obviously a me thing but I’m just kind of like roy and jamie are right there??? enemies to lovers??? love triangle turned gay??? idk I feel like they have a lot more material on the “classic tumblr gay ship” side of things

obviously royjamie is still very popular and obviously I’m not shitting on your ship, I like it tbh, but I just genuinely don’t understand why it’s so popular as to be the defining ship of the fandom! I personally like tedbecca more and think they have a lot more chemistry (romantically that is) and setup in canon, and yet I see people talking about ted and trent as if they’re pretty much canon! am I missing something??

if anyone would like to dump all their thoughts about this ship and maybe recommend some (not smutty) fics that might turn me in the comments please do, because I feel like there’s some kind of inside joke I don’t understand lmao please help

#ted lasso #trent crimm #tedtrent #tedependent #royjamie #royjamiekeeley #tedbecca

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babytarttdoodoo · 9 months

Note

Please (if you want to) expand on what you said about the different ways Roy and Jamie swear because that is extremely fascinating

I mean, I'll start by saying I am in no way a linguistics expert. I also lack the cultural and social background to speak about the swearing habits of Mancunians and Londoners with any authority. (Again, to clarify, I am Scottish.)

However, being familiar with the accents in question, being immersed in British media my entire life, and having had voice training does mean I have an instinctual 'feel' for what sounds right for their characters... or what does for me, at least.

Swearing and rambling under the cut.

Beyond just swear words, the cadence and tones of Roy and Jamie's voices are vastly different.

Jamie talks faster, for one. It is a bit of a trend that the further north you go in the UK, the speedier the speech gets. I slow down a lot, even if I'm just visiting England, in order to be understood by non-Scots.

Therefore, Jamie uses longer words or phrases more casually in conversation (if not always correctly, bless his heart) because the rhythm of his speech allows for it. This also means that if he swears mid-sentence, it's basically just punctuation and comes across as a habit.

Adding adjectives adds emphasis. So when he is intentionally swearing directly at someone, he would call that someone a "big hairy baby twat" rather than just a "twat".

(I will also point out that I think "fucking dickhead" is criminally underused by Jamie in both canon and fanon.)

Roy, on the other hand, has a slower rhythm. He still swears very naturally (obviously) but is more likely to use single syllable words i.e. "fuck", "prick", "shit".

The way that vowels sound in his accent also plays a part here. For example, he says "fah-ck", as opposed to Jamie's softer "foh-ck", which is immediately more tonally aggressive (the different way they draw out the vowels is important too but I can't think of how to describe it).

Roy doesn't need to add on anything extra because the harder tone of his voice gives every swear a weighty impact. However, that's not to say he can't get creative.

Let's take Roy calling the woman harassing Jamie a "nutty arsemonger" in the Protective RoyxJamie fic. I agonised over what Roy was going to say because when he takes a second to think about how he's going to insult someone, things get colourful.

Cultural influence plays a bigger part in these scenarios.

The use of "nutter" is pretty widespread in the UK. "Nutty" as a descriptor, however, is a bit more specific and something I'd personally associate with the South.

That has to be paired with something and, particularly as he's talking to a woman, that makes things complicated.

Now, if I'm being brutally honest, in reality, someone of Roy's background and age would probably have said "cunt". It's very much not as big of a deal over here as I know it can be in the States. Tat said, it still felt a bit harsh to me as something someone in the 'Ted Lasso' universe would say. It's also very gender-charged and if Roy were going to use it, he's more likely to say it to another man.

For similar reasons, I discounted him calling her a "cow" or a "bitch". Less severe, but still not quite right for a man in his (at this point) early 40s who goes out of his way to be respectful to the women he knows. (Moments of idiocy aside, of course.)

That brought me to "arse". Anyone can be one. Great.

But he can't just say "nutty arse" and call it a day. Firstly, because "s" is a soft sound, especially in a deep tone, and the insult sounds incomplete in Roy's voice if he doesn't end on a hard note. Say it to yourself, try out your best Kent impression - it isn't right, is it?

Jamie absolutely could just say "arse" because the "ah" sound is very harsh in his accent and the "s" is more pronounced by his higher voice.

But Roy needs something more to round out the phrase. I landed on "arsemonger" eventually because of the meaning more than anything. (Generally used for someone without class, implies promiscuity.) Introducing that "ger" at the end also sounded a lot better and more natural.

I don't know if I'm making any sense here but hopefully this communicates a bit of what I meant?

If you're looking to delve a bit deeper (without the swearing), a good point of reference might be the Ninth Doctor and Rose's era of 'Doctor Who'. It's not perfect (Christopher is from Salford, Billie from Swindon) but it's another really good example of North/South talking habits.

'Only Fools and Horses' might give you a good idea of the language Roy grew up around, just bear in mind it's more in tune with his parents' generation.

'Coronation Street' is the obvious touchstone for Manchester accents but I haven't watched it in a long time. The kids in 'Waterloo Road' might be a bit more relevant as contemporary examples.

#the art of swearing #I could be talking nonsense #jamie tartt #roy kent

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