#when roy says football is 'who i am. it's all i am' he's not being dramatic he's not exaggerating he's saying it very literally

[elloras]

Ted Lasso: All Apologies

#ted lasso #tedlassoedit #ted lasso by episode #roy kent #<33333333 #keeley jones #rebecca welton #roy x keeley #roykeeley #phoebe kent #phoebe o'sullivan #* #shout out to drakkywolfe because talking about our baby roy headcanons helped me fully realize this: #when roy says football is 'who i am. it's all i am' he's not being dramatic he's not exaggerating he's saying it very literally #football was everything. everything -- his only hope and his future and also the thing that took him away from his family #but also let him support his family. apart from that he was just a kid from a working class family in south london which is still described #to this day as a scary place and he very likely was terrible at school and that little fake grass pitch was the only thing he had and #it was the only time his emotions were celebrated or even allowed and #it's not that he forgot who he was outside it he never knew #yeah. roy kent. that's all

[its-time-to-write]

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

[jamiesfootball]

Season two of the Ted Lasso rewatch and I am having some string feelings. Some strong feelers. Some shrimp about Ted and Jamie and how Ted really, really struggles between being Coach Shaped and being Dad Shaped when it comes to Jamie, and how Jamie is horrible at discerning either.

(Buckle up this is gonna be a long one)

Because what we start off with in season one is very much a man who is used to being Coach Shaped. He wants the boys to be inspired and to learn about life and to become the best versions of themselves that they can be. All of which could be very Dad Shaped, but in execution they’re not.

He steps back to let people grow, and sometimes that involves letting bullies be bullies so that the true leaders of the group can step up. Sometimes it’s letting Nate roast the other players- quite cuttingly at that - to get the team motivated. He’s directing the orchestra sure, but he’s not in the pit telling people how better to get along. He’s warm and welcoming, and he tries to foster good rapport and encourage people to talk to him and open up. He, dare I say it, actually has boundaries with people. He asked Rebecca in the first episode how she was holding up with the divorce, and when she seemed upset he noted it, offered a little commiseration, and moved right along without making a fuss.

And then he calls Jamie Tartt into his office to give him a compliment sandwich (“you’re a great athlete now pass the fucking ball and then you’ll be a super great athlete okay thanks”) and I think that’s where Ted’s boundary with Jamie first starts to erode. Because Jamie unintentionally ruins his whole fucking script. Jamie’s disaffected act crumbles at the first compliment. He’s sincerely taken aback by Ted’s praise, a little nervous and a little pleading. He breaks the rules of compliment sandwiching by demurring “well I work really hard”, which forces Ted to agree which is in a way TWO compliments, and when Ted tries to push through with his critique, Jamie ends up critiquing himself first about something completely different (“my left cross”), and then Ted has to wrestle them back to the actual critique, and the whole thing is just. Definitely not the ordeal Ted thought it would be.

So from early on we have these two working at cross purposes - because Ted thinks he’s being Coach Shaped, but the Shape he is doesn’t fit any Coach Jamie has ever had.

“what’s he like?”

“Great”

“…….”

“Well great at football”

“Yeah, I’ve know guys like that.”

And in return, Ted has known ‘guys like that’, competent athletes who are a necessary part of the game, but have such egos (“I’m not sure you realize how mentally healthy that is”) that Ted thinks he has to go to his players girlfriend for insight on how to motivate Jamie in the way that Ted needs for team cohesion.

So this is Ted trying to be Coach Shaped and give this kid a wake up call and this kid is so receptive that Ted barely had to lift a finger. But it doesn’t stick.

Ok. So next he attempts to give Jamie a book that he thinks will wake him up to the reality he’s living. He gave them to everyone. He’s still being Coach Shaped. He makes Roy and Jamie sit at the same table and tries to orchestrate a truce. He kinda gets there, but the next episode they’re still at each other’s throats. Jamie listened to Ted about the one in a million / one in eleven thing, but then Jamie ignored it. So he benched him. He’s Coach Shaped; it wasn’t personal.

Except Ted is not has not been anything Coach Shaped that Jamie could recognize, and football really is his life too. So it was very fucking personal. And here’s the first wrinkle in the narrative both of them have been telling themselves, because what does Jamie do? He fakes an injury and benches himself.

If Ted doesn’t think he should play, or doesn’t think that the way he’s playing is correct, then fine- he’ll make them both miserable. He just won’t fucking play. It’s kid logic at its finest. It’s cutting your nose to spite your face. ‘Well you said I wasn’t doing it right, so I won’t do it at all.’

It’s the same shit Jamie pulls on his dad when he leaves Man City to go be a reality tv star.

And it’s the first crack in the veneer between them, because the way Ted loses his shit at Jamie for it is not very Coach Shaped, but it is very very Dad Shaped. And unfortunately it was the sort of Dad Shaped that Jamie did recognize.

It’s the first loss of control Ted has in general, and it’s circling this player that Ted can’t seem to get a grip on.

And then there’s Jamie going to Keeley, and he’s got Manchester on his mind. It’s the first time we’ve heard him talk about the council estate he grew up in, and Keeley is telling him to stop battling people who want to help him. So he goes to the bonfire. And he talks about the fucking footprint his dad left in his wake. And he talks wistfully about his mom being proud. And this isn’t just about opening up to the team, it’s also about Jamie Tartt not battling Ted. Taking a risk that even if Ted isn’t very Coach Shaped, even if he appears closer to Dad Shaped than Jamie would like, whatever Ted is - Jamie is probably safe to be a little honest.

It’s not very Star Athlete With An Ego of him; but it’s very very Son Shaped.

“I was just starting to get through to him.”

Ted’s anger with Rebecca could be Coach Shaped. It could be. But it sure hurt him enough that it’s the first time he’s actually angry with Rebecca. Meanwhile Jamie was so hurt he had to tell everyone who would listen about it. Had to iterate that it was good riddance on being rid of Ted Lasso, because at least Pep was a proper Coach Shaped Coach. Someone who’d drill Jamie on the technicals. Someone who probably never once cared enough to pull him aside and tell him if he did a good job. Someone who probably assumed that’s what Jamie’s dad was for, showing up after matches.

“Good luck out there, Jamie!”

“Fucking mind games.”

Whatever Jamie already thought of Ted as a coach must’ve been rolling in the pit Jamie tried to bury it in, because Coach Shaped men don’t cheer you on when you’re playing for the other team. Pep wouldn’t do it if he still played for Richmond.

And maybe Coach Lasso does it for everyone he coaches. Probably. But it’s a very Dad Shaped thing. And fuck, Jamie’s actual fucking dad doesn’t cheer for him at all when Jamie isn’t playing for Manchester, so how’s Jamie supposed to know what it means?

Then there’s Ted, who just can’t help himself. Who can’t help but see potential in Jamie. And when he sees Jamie after the match, it’s a quick war on whether he should speak to him because in that instance Coach mode and Dad mode are in alignment.

Except reality hits as hard as a boot against the wall, because Jamie has a dad. And it’s not Ted. It’s not someone who’s come to tell him well done, or that he’s proud of the baby steps Jamie has taken, even though he’s been left to walk them alone. It is the opposite of what a father should be, but it’s taken up the mantle. Father Shaped. A thing of fury. A role fulfilled, not looking for new applicants.

Coach wins in that moment. Ted turns and walks away, and Jamie can finally see now in Ted Lasso the Coach Shape he’s familiar with.

Except even that can’t stick around and be familiar can it? Because while no one was looking, the Dad Shape in Ted scribbled him a little message. Left a note in his absence to let him know he was proud. Sent Beard with an army man, someone to lookout for Jamie and keep him safe. I’d say at this point a Ted Lasso couldn’t’ve drawn a line between Coach Shaped and Dad Shaped - this was a matter of pure human empathy, and decency, and an apology in its own way. I’m sorry for the roles we’ve been given. I’m sorry, but please know I care.

He walked away from Jamie and his dad. He didn’t have any obligation to Jamie. There was no more match to be won. Any involvement of Jamie Tartt in Ted’s life coulda woulda should’ve ended there.

“There’s something out there worse than being sad, and that’s being sad and alone. And ain’t nobody in this room alone.”

The look on Jamie’s face in that scene says it all. Because he is alone, but Ted clearly (desperately) doesn’t want him to be.

But being alone is better than being stuck in a room with James Tartt Sr.

Jamie doesn’t go to Ted first after Lust Conquers All. Why would he (think he had the right to)?

The first thing Jamie does do (after Keeley tells him it’s ok to go to Ted) when he meets Ted again is show him the Ted (Danson) Soldier. Ted may have made the gesture, and Jamie may have understood the meaning of it, but he does Not understand Ted. Not this Coach-but-Not-a-Coach. Still Jamie thinks he has the distinction down - what soft underbelly he thinks he needs to bare for this type of Coach to believe him when asks for a chance to come home.

“You were getting good minutes up at City.”

Ted redirects Jamie here in a very Coach Shaped way. He guides Jamie into admitting the real reason why he quit. He hears Jamie out, makes observations about how Jamie coming back would work from a team perspective, and makes only occasional eye contact. This is Ted clinging to a role that he’s used to, the one that comforts him in its ability to help other people.

(If there is something Dad Shaped in that scene, it’s an awful, haunting one. Not the one that Jamie grew up with, but the one that Ted grew up with. The one who took his son to play darts every Sunday for six years, who probably sat next to him and drank beer the way Ted does)

But Ted never set out to be anyone’s dad. He’s their Coach, and he has a responsibility to everyone on his team. It’s nothing personal; he’s just being a Coach.

They clink glasses. Cheers, and best of luck to your future endeavors.

There is something very tired about the way Jamie puts down his beer without taking a sip. He looks lost. He does not look surprised. (How could you have expectations for something you’ve never known? And how come that doesn’t make him feel any better about it?)

We don’t see Jamie after that.

We see Ted at training, worrying about Dr Sharon watching the team he’s made. He worries that she’s getting closer (metaphor). When Sam storms off the field, Ted is startled but relieved to follow. He doesn’t want self examination. He wants to be Coach. He wants to embrace the parts of coaching he’s always loved- helping other people improve and be better.

Sam tells him that he doesn’t want Jamie back on the team, and there’s a split second of relief from Ted because he made the right call.

Then Sam talks about his father, and how his father is grateful for Ted because with Ted around, he knows his son is safe. Because this has nothing to do with being Coach Shaped. Coach Shaped he may be in Sam’s life, but here’s Sam, who is very Son Shaped himself, and his father agreeing that Coach Lasso serves a greater purpose in Sam’s life than just being a supportive motivator. In their mind, in the absence of a father, Ted Lasso will do just fine. He will keep Sam safer than any little green army man.

That’s the final inexorable blurring of the lines for Ted, where the coach finally drops the ball to pay attention to the scraped knees that have been left behind.

Ted calls the Diamond Dogs meeting. Coach Beard and Coach Nate are very Coach Shaped indeed. What about the teamwork, Ted? “He’s the poop in the punch bowl.” Leslie is for bringing him back, but it’s for football reasons. It makes managerial sense.

But none of it means anything to Ted because at that moment he can not find it in himself to be Coach Shaped.

“I thought it was settled, but Sam went and unsettled it.”

“He reminded me that not everyone is lucky enough to have a good dad.”

“In sports aren’t we always on about second chances? Shouldn’t that apply to people too?”

This is not Coach Shaped. In some ways it’s not even Dad Shaped. But it is caring, and empathy, and wanting an excuse, any excuse, to try again. It is Love Shaped.

Ted Lasso is a coach to his team and a dad to a great little boy down in Kansas, and for Jamie Tartt he can try to fit on a third extra thing. Whatever that thing is called. Neither of them know what that thing is called. They’re too familiar with Coaches and too unfamiliar with Dads to know the difference.

#ted lasso #jamie tartt #good grief this is long #ted lasso rewatch

[beybaldes]

my first, my last, my everything

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “i could be your family” requested by the loml @onceuponaoneshotfanfic <33

content warning : readers family are a little mean because they are moving away from home, set pre-ted lasso era.

an : what a cute prompt :(((( domestic roy is something so personal to me :(((( title is based on the song of the same name by barry white !!

It was well known by anyone that had even heard of him that Roy Kent was ‘one tough cookie’ (as Ted had called him in a interview once when he first came to Richmond), and the sentiment had seemed to stick. But back when Roy first asked you out, you knew you were in for a world of romance.

Based on his ‘I don’t like anyone or anything’ aesthetic alone, you figured he’d be a secret softie and the worlds most hopeless romantic - and you’d been totally right. The evening of your first date, he’d shown up with 2 dozen red roses, kept his hand on your thigh the entire car ride, opened every door for you, pulled out every chair for you, and complimented you at every opportunity. When he walked you back to your door, after a night of being a perfect gentleman, he gave you the most searing and passionate kiss of your life, leaving without another word.

After spending half an hour sat in bed debating if his silence after the kiss was his way of letting you down gently, you searched to see if there was any meaning behind the 2 dozen red roses he’d given you.

The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”

You had no doubt you’d been seeing Roy Kent for a date, and getting kissed by him like that, again.

4 years later, almost each and every day of it spent together, Roy asks you if you’re willing to move across the country with him if the bid from Chelsea goes through and he gets transferred. When he asks, head hung low and his hands in tight fists, you can tell he expects you to say no. Expects you to explain that while you love him, and you’ve loved these last 4 years, that you can’t - won’t - leave Sunderland. He is ready for this to be the biggest heartbreak of his young life and have it ruin every other partner for him.

You say yes in a heartbeat, and seal it with a kiss just a searing as the one he gave you after your first date.

The move down south is long and tiring, but so worth it. You’re closer to Roy’s mum and sister, he gets to play for his childhood team, your work seamlessly transferred you to it’s sister company, and you were living in a beautiful house with the love of your life (who had an incredibly sexy shaggy mullet going on). Life couldn’t have been better.

Except for the fact that your family hadn’t stopped bombarding you with text messages about your move all week. You still had boxes left to unpack and they were already making you regret your decision. Not the decision of moving in with Roy, you’d go fucking anywhere with Roy, but they made it so hard to allow yourself to feel like you’d made the right choice when they were constantly telling you you hadn’t.

Every single one of them was telling you Roy would leave you sooner or later, for some model, footballer, actress or one of the spice girls. One of your uncles even had a bet going with one of his mates from the pub that Roy would fuck all five before then end of his career. To say it made you feel like shit would be an understatement.

“Sunshine, I’m home.” Roy shouted from the front door, kicking it closed behind him and then kicking his shoes off. He’s been doing press about the transfer all day, and he feels terrible having left you in the new house all alone to unpack, but he knows it’s just part of the move, there’s ultimately nothing he can do about it. Still, the only thing he wants to do before he has to go out for another full day of press tomorrow is curl up in your arms, have you run your fingers through his hair, and whisper sweet nothings in his ear about the new life the two of you are going to build together in London. Instead he is met with what seems like a cold and empty house. “Babe? You here?”

You’re sprawled on the couch Roy had insisted was way too big, but looked small now in the middle of the gigantic living room, lazily covered in a throw blanket and only wearing one of Roy’s Sunderland shirts. Even though you’d heard him come in, you didn’t have the strength to call out to him, especially not when your phone was still frantically buzzing against the coffee table every 10 seconds.

“Sunshine? What are you doing in here?” Roy places something down on the kitchen counter and you can hear it thanks to the main rooms open plan, and you can tell he’s getting closer to you because you can hear the soft padding of his feet against the wooden floor. “You okay?”

Even though he wants nothing more then for him to crawl into your arms, he knows you need it more then he does right now. So, before you can resist him, he pulls you into his arms, sitting the two of you upright on the settee with you in his lap, his hand in your hair. “What’s up, buttercup?”

“Nothing Roy-o, just tired. Missed you.” You hid your head in the crook of his neck, hoping that if you burrowed deep enough into his mix of warmth and aftershave, you could hide from the constant buzzing of your phone. “It’s a big house, I feel so small without you here to share it.”

“Give me a week, sunshine, then I can be here all day every day until preseason. And then we’ll be on a pretty similar work schedule.” Roy pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, ghosting a kiss against your temple and the another against the shell of your ear. “It’s going to be perfect. You. Me. Here. It’s all going to work out, sunshine.”

For a moment, you believed Roy and it felt like everything was going to be okay, that you’d made that right choice, and that you and Roy were taking the first step towards the rest of your lives. Then your phone buzzed.

“Fucking hell, babe, you got a fan club or what?” When you didn’t laugh, Roy’s concern only grew, leaning forward and picking up your phone to see what all the commotion was. As he scrolled through message after message from family member after family member, his brow grew tense, and a scowl settled on his face. “What a fucking joke.”

“Roy.”

“No, seriously, they can say all they want about me. I don’t give a fuck. I never have. But about you?” Roy scoffed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you with him as he leant against the back of the sofa. “You’re fucking related to them and this is how they’re talking to you? It’s a fucking joke.”

“They’re my family, Roy-o, they’re just trying to look out for me, that’s all.” One of your hands moved to run up Roy’s chest, tracing around the embroidered material of the Chelsea badge right over his heart. God, did he look good in blue.

“Some fucking family, to treat you like that.” Roy ran a hand over his forehead, pushing his curls of out his eyes. You loved his hair like this, grown out and curly like in the pictures you’d seen of him as a kid. Maybe one day you’d convince him to push it out of his eyes with a headband. He’d look sexy in a headband. “I could be your family.”

Roy’s hand cupped your jaw, turning your head slowly to face him. When your eyes finally met his, he pressed a soft and long kiss to your lips. You melted into it, the stress of the week and of the messages from your family melting away under Roy’s loving touch. “You’re already my family, Roy. It’s like you said, me, you, here. Besides, you have been since you wormed your way into my heart on our first date with those 2 dozen roses.”

“Funny you’d say that.” Roy whispered, nuzzling his nose against yours, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips then pulling away with a smirk. “Thought the new house could do with some greenery.”

As you turned to look at the kitchen counter, you saw what you could only assume was 2 dozen roses already in vases. It must have been what Roy brought home with him, and suddenly you wished you’d been feeling happier and could’ve appreciated them more when he first walked in the door.

“The traditional romantic message of 24 roses is that of complete devotion, or “I am yours.”” You repeated under your breath, a warm smile brightening your whole face. Roy’s eyes widened, as though he hadn’t necessary expected you to know the meaning behind 2 dozen roses, but he loved you even more for it.

“I am yours.” Roy repeated, voice filled with complete and utter earnest. “And one day I’m going to put a ring in your finger to prove it.”

an : Mwah!!!! Love you guys thank you for reading so far <333

#beybaldes summer sleepover !! #ted lasso x reader #roy kent x reader #roy kent imagine #roy kent one shot

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

ooooh if you’re still taking those prompt drabble requests, i would absolutely ADORE to see you tackle “they can’t hurt you any more” 🩷

(drabble, uh, not so much) from this prompt game.

Almost a year of early morning training had conditioned Roy that when his phone vibrated at 4 am, it was likely his alarm. But this morning, it wasn’t his alarm, no, someone was calling him. Dread filled his stomach. There was no good reason for anyone to call him this early. His brief hope that that was some terrible accident and Ruth was being called to work was when he saw the name on the caller ID. 

Jamie Tartt.

“Jamie?” Roy answered on the third try, his fingers missing the little green button the first two tries. 

There was no answer on the other line. Dread crawled up Roy’s spine when he heard rustling, then finally, Jamie’s voice reached his ears, distant and muffled. 

“Get the fuck out!”

Roy wasted no time pulling on trousers, and his boots, and the phone was on speaker phone in case there was more to hear. 

Roy wished there wasn’t more to hear or Jamie come on the line.

The unmistakable sounds of a fight reached through the phone louder than a siren. 

Fists connected with flesh. 

Pained grunts filled the speaker. 

Furniture splintered and broke. 

All the while, Roy prayed to hear Jamie’s voice again.

The phone connected with the Mercedes Bluetooth as Roy threw the car into drive, thankful for the empty streets as he sped through West London towards Jamie’s house.

“Jamie? Please, Jamie, say something,” Roy begged. 

Instead, Roy heard laughing, but it wasn’t Jamie’s laugh. It wasn’t the laugh that Roy’s had come to recognise in a group of rowdy footballers, the laugh that relaxed him when he’s worried, the laugh that made him smile even when he was in a shit mood. No, it was a laugh that sent shivers down Roy’s spine. A laugh that Roy wondered how many times meant danger for Jamie. 

Roy hung up and called 999 and prayed he wouldn’t be too late.

-

The first thing Roy heard when he entered Jamie’s house was deadly silence.

Roy expected screaming. He expected more sounds of a fight. He expected chaos. But what met him was an alarming quiet.

“Jamie?” he yelled, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “Jamie?”

The first thing Roy saw when he entered Jamie’s living area was destruction.

Roy expected chairs overturned. He expected broken tables. He expected chaos. But what met him was even worse than that.

“Jamie?” he yelled, again, frantically scanning the destroyed room. “Jamie?”

The first person Roy saw when he finally laid eyes on someone was James Tartt.

Roy expected Jamie to be waiting for him. He expected the men to still be fighting. He expected Jamie would need his help. But what met him was a seemingly unconscious James Tartt and a missing Jamie.

“Jamie?” he yelled again, stepping over debris to move throughout the room. “Jamie?”

“Roy?”

The voice was little more than a croak but at that moment Roy couldn’t think of a better sound. Roy skidded to his knees in front of Jamie, who was on his hands and knees on the other side of the couch. Roy guided him to sit with his back against the glass walls that led to the garden, knowing Jamie would feel safer if he could see the room, see everyone who came in, see his father still unconscious by the kitchen table. 

“It's okay, Jamie. He can't hurt you.”

“I didn’t, I didn't, I didn’t mean to,” Jamie stuttered as he shook his head back and forth, not making eye contact with Roy, only staring at his father’s body. 

“Hey. I know, it’s okay,” Roy said, moving his body in between Jamie’s eyesight and James. 

Roy’s eyes ran over Jamie’s body, looking for wounds or injuries. The footballer was curled into himself, seemingly smaller than his frame. There was swelling and redness that Roy knew would bloom into bruises and cuts bright red against too-pale skin. Roy wondered at the damage hidden beneath Jamie’s clothes and feared the emotional damage hidden beneath the pliant personality. 

“Hello? Did someone call 999?” came a shout from the entryway. 

Roy had left the front door open, hoping help would arrive soon after he did. 

“Back here,” Roy stood and yelled. 

A man and a woman came into the room then, each carrying a large bag. They eyed Roy and Jamie but stopped at the unconscious man first. The male paramedic said something into his radio but Roy couldn't catch it. Roy held his breath as they knelt next to a prone James Tartt and checked for a pulse. Maybe Roy should have done that, but hadn’t been able to muster a care at the time when Jamie was potentially injured. Still, Roy exhaled with relief when they found one. James Tartt might not deserve to live in this world, but Roy didn’t want Jamie to have to deal with the pain of being the one to remove him from it. 

“Roy, Roy,” Jamie said quietly, hands desperately grabbing at Roy until he bent down and held Jamie’s hands in his own. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore. It’s okay, just close your eyes. I’m right here, I’m not leaving you.”

Jamie did as he was told, but Roy doubted he could do more than follow Roy’s orders right now. Still, Roy moved his body to block the view of the paramedics. 

“It's okay, you’re okay, it's gonna be okay,” Roy repeated, rubbing a thumb across Jamie’s fingers, careful of the raw and bleeding knuckles. 

“I didn’t, I didn't mean to,” Jamie 

A noise behind Roy startled him, as the paramedics moved the loaded gurney from the sitting room towards the door, towards the awaiting ambulance, towards a hospital.

“Fuck off,” James said behind him.

Jamie’s body trembled under Roy’s hands at his father’s voice. 

“This ain’t over, Jamie. Don’t forget where you fucking came from, don’t you fucking forget–”

“Get him the fuck out of here,” Roy turned and stood faster than he thought his knee could move him, almost knocking a chair over as he rose, not that it would have mattered in the mess. 

Roy didn’t turn back around until he watched the gurney roll through Jamie’s front door into the cold morning, James yelling the entire time. Before Roy can turn back to Jamie, the female paramedic stands in front of him.

“We should take a look at him,” she nods at Jamie. 

Roy turned to examine Jamie again himself. The cuts looked superficial, but Roy worried Jamie wasn’t simply in shock but had suffered a concussion. The erratic breathing could be from nerves, or it could be due to broken ribs. Could Jamie stand? Could he walk? All questions Roy needed answered before he would begin to think about Jamie being physically okay. 

“They’re just going to check you out, Jamie, make sure you don’t need to go to hospital.”

“No, no, hospital,” Jamie said, eyes wide and scared. He stood quickly and Roy thrust an arm to steady him. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

“Mr. Tartt, we should really make sure you’re alright.”

“Roy,” Jamie pleaded, his fingers digging into Roy’s arm. 

“The police will want to speak with him when we’re done,” the paramedic warned.

She heard the threats from Jamie’s father, smelled the alcohol on his breath, cleaned the matching gashes on his bloody knuckles. 

“Thanks,” Roy said, wishing he could imbue just how much he meant it. “I’ll make sure he’s checked out.”

Whether by Ruth or someone at Richmond, Roy planned to make sure Jamie was checked out head to toe. The woman took one last look at Jamie before she pulled a couple ice packs and some butterfly bandages from her kit, leaving them on the table with a thanks from a grateful Roy. Roy guided Jamie to sit at one of the chairs at the kitchen table, grateful he wasn’t limping but nervous as to how unsteady he was on his feet. 

The antiseptic smell the woman left behind still lingered in the air when a police officer appeared in front of Roy.

“We just have a few questions for Mr. Tartt.”

“Is he under arrest?”

“No, we just need to ask him a few questions.”

“I don’t think he’s in the proper head space right now to answer any fucking questions. You heard his father, Jamie was just defending himself.”

“Maybe. But we just need–”

“The only need I give a shit about right now is what Jamie needs, and that’s not to talk to you. If you have any questions, you can contact Richmond’s legal counsel, Dana Heinen, if you need her number, fucking Google it. Now get the fuck out.”

Roy followed the reluctantly leaving officer to the front door, looking back at Jamie as he did. He needn’t worry about Jamie going anywhere. Roy was unsure the younger man even breathed the short time he was gone. 

“They’re gone,” Roy told Jamie, pulling his phone from his pocket to call Ruth. “It’s just us.”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie said, the dam finally broke open as tears fell freely from Jamie’s red rimmed eyes.

Roy quickly canceled the call, pulling another chair as close to Jamie as possible and placed his hands on Jamie’s knees. “Jamie you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“I let him in, I, I forgave him. For what? I’m so fucking stupid, Roy, why the fuck would I ever think he could change?”

Roy pulled Jamie into a hug, careful of any injuries hidden by the naked eye and rubbed his back as he whispered to him, “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

Jamie latched onto him like a life raft as he sobbed on Roy’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

#jamie tartt #roy kent #fuck jamie's dad #cw abuse #cw violence #thank you my lovely lovely friend :) #whump #whump prompt ask game #ask box is always open

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

I'm not sure if you've already said this but I'm asking anyway. Since you're the local Flashfam expert and also a PJO lover (you have no idea how happy I am that we like the same things), what godly parents would the Flashfam have? Like, all of the fam. Counting characters like Linda and Iris

And it'd also be cool if you assigned a cabin for the Titans and/or the Young Justice too-

I mean it has to be Hermes. It literally has to be Hermes for the speedsters. Like, maybe we throw in a Roman twist and say Mercury every once in a while, but that's just gotta be the answer.

Jay literally wears Hermes' helmet. Max named himself after Mercury. Barry wears Hermes' winged shoes and has wings on his head. Same with Wally. Jay is also literally given Hermes'/Mercury's powers on Earth-2.

And it makes sense, it really does. God of travellers? Check. The winged aesthetic? Check. God of messengers? Check! God of tricksters, liars and thieves? Look, the speedsters are all of the above just in a VERY chaotic good way. They don't rob people but also when Wally found out that the museum had the bones of a fallen soldier from another country without said countries permission or consent? HE STOLE THEM BACK. Bart has absolutely no qualms taking things, Max has been a thief in the past, Jay and Barry work by pirate rules aka 'if I defeat you, I get your stuff', ect. They don't do armed robbery and they don't like stealing from random citizens, but bad guys are free game.

Iris I have to go on the nose and say Iris because Iris is the goddess of messengers and rainbows, and Iris is literally a reporter? So her whole thing is spreading information? While looking stunning.

Linda is an Athena kid 125%. Linda writes books, she was a kickass investigative reporter, she went to med school, she knows more about speedster biology and how it works than literally anyone else in her home dimension, she regularly fights aliens with no powers and just whatever weapons she finds laying around. Linda is intelligent, she's cunning and witty and she will cut a bitch.

Joan is a Hestia kid. Just... family, love, warmth. Need I say more?

As for the Titans... well, Donna is already taken care of. Garth... is technically also taken care of I think?? Atlanteans exist in Greek mythology so Garth is just the same I think. Roy... fuck it, Ares. I said what I said come at me bro. For Dick I would want to go with a minor god or goddess, I like the idea of him being a child of Psyche (Goddess of the human soul) because he is very human and he understands people on a level that might be considered supernatural. Lilith would be the oracle. Karen would be a child of Hephaestus and Mal would 100% just be a guy who can see through the mist and has a shield.

Gar is the last son of Pan because that's cool AF. Raven would be the daughter of Tartarus I think. Vic would be a son of Apollo. I know it's really easy to go for Hephaestus for Vic but honestly, the key part of Vic's story to me isn't that he's a cyborg, it's that he's human. He's a survivor, who, against all odds, received bat shit crazy medical treatment from his father and survived a fatal accident. I like the idea that Apollo saw a guy doing crazy stuff to advance medical science and was like 'Hey there 😉😉😉😉'. Also pre accident Vic was a football player which has a lot to do with aim, so idk, I just like it. Starfire would be a demigod child of the sun deity on her home planet.

For Young Justice, Cassie and Bart are already covered. Kon would be a legacy of Nemesis (Lex) and a legacy of a deity from Krypton. Cissie would be a daughter of Ares and a legacy of Apollo. Greta would be a child of Morpheus. Tim would be the son of Lachesis. Slobo is Slobo. Anita.... Tbh I want to say she's a legacy of Aphrodite? Love is a huge part of her backstory and I dislike giving the non powered characters godly parentage that explains away their abilities. They worked hard for those skills!

#pjo #yj #titans #flashfam #flash family #dc

[hopefulromances]

Long Time Coming I Chapter Four I Jump Then Fall

Summary: Being hired as the first female assistant coach in the league was a challenge of it itself. Being a football protigy and University Football Legend was easy enough. Coaching Jamie Tartt was a challenge all on its own.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warning: I have literally no clue how football works.

A/N: Enjoy!

Prologue One Two Three

Roy was back. I love Roy. Roy was straight forward and honest. The boys responded well to him. Maybe it was because he was one of them, but Roy understood them better. The Roy Kent effect they were calling it. Of course, that didn’t come with a fair bit of jealously. As much as I tried not to be jealous, of course Roy was getting more recognition for his work than I ever did. His dramatic return at the beginning of the Sheffield game was something to be inspired by.

But Roy and I got along. We had an understanding of the game that Ted and Beard and Nate just didn’t have. We were able to communicate in our own way. We stood on the sidelines, watching the boys scrimmage when Colin whiffed a shot at the goal. I rolled my eyes and glanced over at Roy who nodded at me in agreement.  

I was about to say something when Nate stepped forward.

            “Come on, Colin. You dolt!” he shouted at him.

My eyes widened in surprise at him. Even if Colin wasn’t my friend, which he was, that’s no way to speak to your team. Roy seemed to feel my discomfort and stepped forward in front of me.

            “Colin, you're leaning too far back. Head down, fucking whip it!” Roy instructed, in his aggressive yet endearing way.

            “Thanks, Roy,” Colin called back, grateful for the advice. “I am a strong and capable man.”

I was about to mention my concerns about Bumbercatch when Roy continued. “Bumbercatch, great pass, but it don’t mean shit if they see it coming. The rest of you in the box, when the shot goes, you fucking follow it in!”

            “You smell that, lads?” Isaac asked, letting in a dramatic sniff. “That’s the Roy Kent Effect.” The lads laughed, and I thought I saw the ghost of a smile on Roy’s face as he stepped back to stand by me.

I felt my smile fall at their praise. It was stupid, it really was. Roy was new. Roy was loud. Roy was funny. They flocked to him like he was their savior. And he was! The four-game winning streak was enough to convince anyone of that. I shifted to stand up straight.

            “Anything for me, coach?” Jamie ran up to the front of the group, looking desperately at Roy for his advice.

But Roy ignored him, clapping his hands and instructing the boys to start up again. I let out a low breath. Forgiving Jamie wasn’t easy. Especially when Jamie had all but single-handedly ended his career.

Jamie looked over at me, the disappointment rolling over his features. I gave him a sympathetic smile, shrugging indifferently.  I was jealous. Jealous of Roy Kent because he was so fucking wonderful and great at his job.

I stewed as I sat back in my chair during lunch. I tuned myself out of the conversation that Keely and Ted were having, trying to convince myself to not be jealous. Jealousy was not my favorite emotion, and it was downright embarrassing. What caught my attention was when Jamie walked into the room half dressed.

            “Hi (Y/N),” he greeted. I felt my heart speed up as he singled me out in a greeting. “Hey Keely.” And back to normal speed. I shook my head at myself. I was all out of wack today. Jealous about Roy, disappointed when Jamie greeted Keely, his friend. Just silly. “Gotta tell Roy he needs to start coaching me.”

Of course, he was here about Roy. I tried not to roll my eyes as I stood up, grabbing my bag.

            “Oh, wait, you want me to tell Roy Kent what to do?” Ted retorted quickly. “That’s a great idea.”

            “Yeah, he’ll love that,” Keely giggled, shooting Jamie a side eye.

            “Yes, I’ll totally drop it into one of our conversations where Roy talks about his life and asks me for advice,” Nate chimed in.  We all laughed before Beard turned and blew a raspberry at Jamie.

            “Philistines!” Oh! Big word for Jamie. “I’m asking for help here!”

In his defense, he did truly seem desperate, but the whole situation was just so hilarious to me, I couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

            “Philistines? What is that your word of the day?” I jabbed, moving to lean across from Keely. He glared at me, crossing his arms. I found myself looking over his features, his tense jaw, the way his shirt hugged his biceps. Were his biceps always that big? Oh, god, what was I doing. It was just Jamie. Yeah, he was attractive, but so what? I tuned back into the conversation just as Ted and Keely were leaving. I sent them away and hit Jamie on the shoulder.

            “Grab your lunch, and lets go,” I told him as I walked out of the room.

Jamie and I liked to enjoy our lunches sitting on the pitch. It's where we enjoye most of our free time together. Usually, he would ask me advice on some football technique or play he was trying and I would help where I could. But today, Jamie sat across from me, stabbing aimlessly at his salad. I shook my box, getting the dressing nice and mixed into mine.

            “Jamie, what is going on with you?” I questioned. “You’ve barely touched your summertime strawberry salad!”

I reached forward with my fork and tried to stab at it, but he warded me off.

            “It’s Roy! He just knows how to get under me skin,” he complained, finally shoving a strawberry in his mouth. “I thought I was finally making headway here.”

I couldn’t help but let out a groan. “Jamie, it’s Roy. You two have always hated each other.”

            “I don’t hate, Roy!” Jamie exclaimed, stabbing particularly hard at his food. “Well, I think he’s a pretentious old twat, but I don’t hate him.” He leaned back, setting his fork down. “I just want him to coach me.”

            “For fucks sake,” I burst out. I was sick of everyone looking for Roy’s approval, he was just a man. “He’s just Roy! If you want something from him, just be upfront. Don’t go looking for something in any kiss uppy, or brown nosey way. And anyways, aren’t four coaches enough, why are you all so desperate for Roy’s attention?”

I couldn’t keep the desperation out of my voice and Jamie could tell. He cocked his head at me.

            “Why do you care? We all listen to you anyways. It’s getting you to shut up that’s the problem!” He smirked, sticking his tongue out at me. But I was not in the mood for jokes. No matter how much I felt my cheeks burn watching the way his eyes squinted when he smiled. But no, I was angry.

            “Fuck off, Jamie,” I mumbled before standing up. I turned on my heel and left, heading back inside.

            “Wait! I was just joking,” Jamie called after me.

I didn’t turn around and I heard him curse loudly as I went inside. I walked back to my office and saw Ted sitting there, on his phone. I slumped into my chair, starting to spin. Everything was so fucked. I felt like my emotions were out of control. I was so angry. It felt like I was spiraling out of control. For some reason, the only thing in my head was Jamie. Jamie and his stupid smile, his cocky, smug, stupid smile. Why didn’t he want my coaching? Why wasn’t he fighting to get my attention? God, I felt so stupid.

            “(Y/N)!” Ted’s voice broke my chain of thought, and I stopped spinning. “Hold on there! If you spin any faster, you’re gonna whisk away a little girl and her dog.”

I felt the aftereffects of the spin setting in and leaned back, staring straight ahead. “Isn’t it a little corny to make a Wizard of Oz metaphor? Seeing as you’re from Kansas?”

            “No! That adds to the charm!” Ted exclaimed. “Now why don’t you tell me whats wrong?”

I weighed my options. I could tell Ted everything. He was great at listening and usually gave good advice. But what if he laughed at me or told me to get over myself. Though that thought along was ridiculous enough. Ted was kind. He would never laugh at me.

         “It’s just…” I began, taking a deep breath. “I feel so… weird? I’m jealous! And I’m not a jealous person. But with Roy being back, it feels like… no one needs me around anymore. Like I never got any of the kind of attention that Roy is getting now. ‘The Kent Effect?’ What about the Clemen’s Effect?” I shook my head, realizing how stupid I sound. “And now I’m realizing that I sound like a jealous third grader.”

Ted chuckled.

“I was gonna say you were turning into that giant green bean fella but jealous third grader works too.” I let out a breath laugh, closing my eyes and shoving my face in my hands. “Hey, though, don’t beat yourself up! I get it. I do. But don’t let that make you forget just how much we need you here.” I looked up from my hands to look at Ted. He gave me a smile. “The boys respond to you well, they always have. Heck! You know more about this game than Beard or Nate or myself. Roy is just… new. But there’s one thing that you have that Roy doesn’t.”

            “What’s that?” I asked, looking for an answer.

            “The ability to show by doing,” he stated. “Ever since you showed Jamie that trick about dragging his feet, he’s made more free kicks than ever. Roy’s too old and crotchety to actually be able to do anything anymore. But you! You’re in the prime of your career. You can teach these boys in a way none of the rest of us can.” He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. “And one thing I want you to understand is that we need you. We will always need you. Don’t forget that.”

For some reason, his words really hit me. My eyebrows furrowed together and gave him a sincere smile. I opened my mouth to say something, thank you, or anything, when Roy and Jamie flew in from the hallway.

            “You fucking asshole!” Jamie shouted.

            “I know you are but so are you,” Roy grunted back, starting to walk into the coach’s room. Ted and I shared a glance before both of us started to rise from our seats.

            “I’m trying to build bridges here!” Jamie’s exasperated voice called out.

Roy turned on his heel, rounding on Jamie. “You couldn’t fucking build Jeff Bridges.”

He pushed Jamie back. I flew up forward and raced out into the locker room, getting in between Roy and Jamie. I stepped in front of Jamie, feeling a rush of protectiveness flooding through me.

            “Hey, hey, hey!” Ted joined, spreading his arms between them. “What’s going on here?”

            “This man refuses to coach meh!” Jamie accused pointing over my shoulder.

            “He refuses to stop being an asshole,” Roy retorted.

 “Hey, we both know Jamie has come a long way in his journey to not be an asshole,” I defended.

“Thank you, (Y/N)!” Jamie chimed in.

“Okay Roy, you’re not going to like this but, right now, Jamie here is being the mature one,” Ted began, moving to standing next to Jamie.

“It’s true. I’m being super mature, you big, dumb, hairy, baby twat,” Jamie whined. I turned and gave Jamie a side eye. Roy suggested that it was Ted’s fault that Jamie wasn’t as good of a player as he used to be.

            “Cause, Jamie, deep down, at your core, you are a prick,” Roy stated, firmly. “So just be a prick.” I tried to glance over at Jamie, trying to wage his reaction. But he wasn’t giving much away.

We decided on a signal. A signal to give Jamie when it was time to be a prick. Or I should say, Roy decided on a signal. One we would find out about later, I suppose.  

Nonetheless, it seemed to qualm the fight that Roy and Jamie had built, and the rest of the day went smoothly. I was packing up my stuff to leave when Roy cleared his throat from behind me.

            “Hey Roy, what’s up?”

            “You’re a good coach.”

I pause and turn to face him. “What… what do you mean?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “I mean, you’re a good fucking coach. The boys respond well to you. You know what you’re doing. Which is more than I can say for Ronald McDonald.”

I laughed, looking down. “I think Ted knows what he’s doing.”

            “I was talking about Nate, but the point stands.” He reached out his hand for me to shake. Maybe it was my crazy emotional whirlwind of a day, but I knocked his hand aside and pulled him in for a hug. His arms didn’t warp around me at all, but he didn’t immediately start to growl so I took it as a success.

As I walked out to my car that night, I saw Jamie leaning against his car, scrolling on his phone. When he saw me coming out of the door, he put his phone away and shot me the biggest smile. Not his normal, cocky one, but a softer, for sincere one.

            “Hey (Y/N),” He started, walking to meet me. “I wanted to apologize, for before.”

            “Jamie, you have nothing to apologize for.” I shook my head, holding my hands up to stop him. “I was being so moody earlier. Just a weird day.”

            “S’lright, just wanted to make sure you was okay,” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Seemed upset.”

Goddamnit. That was so fucking thoughtful.

            “Yeah, I was… I was having a bad day.” I shrugged. “But, I’ll be okay.”

He stared at me for a moment longer before nodding his head. We stood there, staring at each other in a not-too-uncomfortable silence. Finally, I popped my lips.

            “Alright! I guess I’ll see you this weekend. Tottenham won’t know what hit them!” I moved passed him, walking backwards towards my car.

Jamie smirked, turning with me to leave. “That’s for sure, already told Colin you’re filling in for him.”

            “Hah! That’s- that’s really- “I bumped into my car, slamming my hip against the handle. “Ah, fuck, ouch.”

            “Shit, are you-“

            “Yep! I’m fine!” I cut him off before he could be concerned. “Just great, I’ll see you Saturday.”

I opened the door to my car and got in before he could say another word. What was wrong with me?

…

This Saturday filled me with so many feelings. If I thought my emotions were out of wack at the beginning of the week, the anxiety that filled me about Tottenham just made things worse. We were one win away from going to Wembley and playing Manchester for the FA Cup semis. If we won, it would be to the excellent coaching of Ted Lasso and stellar skills of our players. If we lost it would be because of the female coach dragging the team down.

My normal routine of cheering on the lads in the locker room was replaced with my anxious twirling in my chair. Not even Ted tried to get me to stop. What did get me to stop was when Jamie came into the door way.

            “Mornin’ Coach,” He stopped when he saw me, clearly frazzled in the corner of the room. “Should I ask?”

            “Definitely not,” Beard answered for me.

Jamie cocked his head, pursing his lips at me. “Bit scared about the game, yeah?”

I shot him a glare as my feet planted themselves in the ground before twisting so I was facing the wall away from them.

            “I just told you not to ask!”

            “What do you need, Jamie” Ted interrupted before Beard could escalate things forward.

Jamie’s eyes stayed planted on me for a moment longer before he dragged them over to Ted.

            “I was just wondering if you decided on a signal for me?”

            “I told you; you’d know it when you see it.” Roy entered the room coming over to spin my chair to face them again. “You, need to stop spinning or you’ll blow chunks on the field.”

I frowned at him but stood up and brushed past Jamie into the locker room. As I did though, he grabbed my arm. My breath caught in my throat as I turned back to look up at him. I never realized how much taller he was than me. To my surprise, there was no hint of humor. Just a sea of concern.

            “Are you okay?” he murmured; his face so close to mine I could feel his waiting breath.

I bit my lip, suddenly overcome by my emotions. The same emotions that had been drawing me to his body, his lips, his eyes, every single day this week. I found enough breath to reply a soft: “I’m okay.”

At my reply, he let go of my arm and shot me a comforting smile instead. “Good, ‘cos I was beginning to worry that my salad choices had come back to haunt you.”

“No, our salads were fine.” I chuckled at his concern. “But I am concerned about your ability to play well after too many strawberries.”

“Don’t you worry about me Strawberries,” he smirked. “In a few hours you’ll be begging for my strawberry salad recipe”

He shot me a wink before turning and heading back to his locker. Why were my cheeks burning?

The game was more mediocre to say the least. Nearing the half, the score was nil-nil with only a few attempts at a goal. I could feel the energy leaving the players as Jamie passed the ball to an unprepared Sam. A Tottenham play swiped the ball, kicking it out of bounds. I groaned, running a hand through my hair.  

            “Fuck,” I spat under my breath, turning to Ted. “What’s the plan?” Roy suddenly appeared beside me, causing me to jump slightly. “Christ.”

            “Reckon it’s time to use the signal, huh?” Ted asked, hesitantly.

            “Yep,” Roy answered.

            “Yeah, okay…” Ted looked around nervously. “You didn’t by any chance come up with a better one, did you?”

            “No”

            “Alright.” Ted sighed before cupping his mouth and shouting. “Hey Jamie! Jamie!”

On the field, Jamie turned to look at us. In unison, the five of us all raised our middle fingers at him. I didn’t know how to react when Roy told us the signal he had come up with. It wasn’t exactly surprising, but I wasn’t sure how the crowd would react. Of course, the second we made the signal, the crowd burst out in laughter. Jamie’s face contorted in confusion before a look of realization dawned on him.  

He quickly ran over to one of the Tottenham players, Barnett, and started chatting to him. Whatever he said to him must have pissed him off cause soon the two of them were racing towards the ball. Jamie took control of the ball when, from out of nowhere, Barnett slid into Jamie’s legs, causing him to fall and roll to the ground.

            “REFEREE” Beard shouted, throwing his hands up.

Of course, the ref blew his whistle giving Jamie a penalty. Jamie hopped up off the ground and on his face was his signature cocky, sideways smirk. He approached Barnett and got in his face, saying something snarky I’m sure, because the next second, Barnett was pushing Jamie and having to be pulled away by his teammate. Jamie ran backwards, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

            “Hmm, glad he’s on our team, you know?” Ted nudged me, but I found myself unable to take my eyes off of him. I muttered an agreement as Jamie turned to face us for a moment as Barnett was cleared off. His eyes were shining with mischief as he raised his eyebrows at me. I shook my head at him, unable to keep the smile off my face.

            “Hey, what do you think? Trick play?” Ted huddled us in a moment. I shook my head. It was a long shot for sure, but one I knew he could make. In fact, it was the same distance I had shown him how to hit that day after training. He could do it.

            “You don’t need it,” Roy, as usual, could read my mind. “The little prick’s gonna fucking score from there.”

Nate scoffed in disbelief.  But I knew what Jamie could do. I watched as he placed the ball on the ground in front of him and took a breath. Then one by one, he dragged his feet backwards, just like I’d shown him. The turf disrupted slightly as his red boots tore up the soil. Then, it was like the world stood still, he jaunted forward, hit the ball with the side of his foot and watched as it flew through the air. Then, with the sweet swish of the goal, the world exploded into cheers. The stadium flew into a state of celebration as the team ran to Jamie’s side.

            “YES!” I cried. “FUCK YES JAMIE!” Jamie turned again, to look over at us. In one swift motion, he flipped us off with both of his fingers. I laughed and shook my head, feeling that flutter in my stomach again. Then it hit me. Just as quickly, as if it was a football to the face. It hit me, staring at his tongue sticking through his lips, as he celebrated with his teammates. It hit me that I was most definitely in love with Jamie Tartt.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think!

Tag list: @optimisticsandwichgladiator @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @ajax-petropolus-wife

#jamie tartt #angst #enemies to lovers #eventual fluff #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #ted lasso #ted lasso show

[hacash]

I know you’re a huge Nate supporter and love to talk about all the microagressions against him, and one I noticed when rewatching is that in 2x3, when ted tells Jamie he’s starting on the reserve, he’s immediately playful with Will (“Mr. Kitman! Hit me!”) and it got me thinking how badly Nate must have felt seeing the ringleader of his bullies come back and immediately be nice to his replacement. Sort of like, “oh so you were capable of being a decent human being to the kitman this whole time but you just chose not to”

I think there’s such nuance in the way the the team getting nicer grates on Nate, who put up with their bullshit for years, especially since no one ever offers him a real apology. I think he’s definitely crossed lines, but when you look at it from his perspective, it’s easy to see how he got there. Anyway I just appreciate your nuanced takes on Nate and I can’t wait to see nick mohammed pull off another stellar performance in season 3!

Absolutely!

To be fair, I think Nate's aggression from Will stems a lot from power going to his head and being a perfectionist in his work; I'm a big fan of Nate but my God, the man is flawed. However I also think Will is a walking, talking reminder of how the team used to treat Nate, simply by dint of how they don't treat Will. He comes to Richmond and immediately gets handfuls of cash from them at Christmas, he's included in their little bonding rituals, he's part of the gang...whereas we all know the treatment Nate got whenever he tried to help the team.

(And that only finished after a particularly brutal show of strength from Roy. Which, uh, certainly gives Nate an interesting impression of what tactics do and don't work with the footballers.)

So yeah, from Nate's incredibly damaged perspective, having poor Will around must be unbelievably frustrating. He's pissed, and though he handles it badly, it's obvious why he's pissed. It's the moment when Eleanor in The Good Place, seeing her emotionally abusive mum parenting a new daughter, tearfully says that if her mum was capable of parenting the little girl then she was capable of parenting Eleanor but just chose not too. It's the moment in How I Met Your Mother when Barney screams at his absent dad 'well, if you were going to be some lame suburban dad, why couldn't you be one for me?!' - because clearly the team were capable, they were willing to be nice, they just didn't want to be nice to Nate, it must be about him, how they see him, he needs to change to earn their respect, he needs to perform those shows of strength....

...Of course, an outside perspective would tell you that the team's change of attitude from Nate to Will has absolutely nothing to do with Nate, and everything to do with how Ted's philosophy has impacted the team. (If Will had joined Richmond at the beginning of S1 I've no doubt that pre-reformation Isaac, Colin and Jamie would have eaten the poor boy alive, and the rest of the team would have been egging them on or wouldn't have dared stop it.) But Nate's not in the right place to see that. And considering all the history between him and the team, I don't think he should have to just 'man up' and accept that; he deserves that acknowledgement and those apologies. Which I am very much hoping we get this season.

#ted lasso #nate shelley #will kitman #the little things #ted lasso speculation

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

It's My Party

Smutober Week 2

Prompt: "I'll make you forget all about him."

Character: Roy Kent (Ted Lasso)

1.6k words

Warnings: Mentions of a douchey ex, oral (f receiving), fingering

Author's Note: Consider this a birthday gift to the always wonderful and perfect @agentstarkid 😘 Happy birthday May!!

For the millionth time, Roy’s eyes drifted over to you. Despite being the guest of honor, you were probably the most miserable person at your birthday party.

Roy’s sister, one of your best friends, had told him all about how your douchebag boyfriend- the one Roy always fucking hated- had broken up with you for some girl he worked with. Even with this heartbreak, you’d let your friends plan you a massive party; some small part of you hoped that it would distract you from thinking about him. However, based on the tight smiles you offered everyone who wished you a happy birthday, it didn’t seem to be working.

Maybe it was the way he felt his own heart ache at the sight of your miserable face. Maybe it was the tight dress your friends had talked you into wearing. Maybe it was because it was your birthday, and you deserved some fun. Or maybe it was the simple fact that Roy Kent had fancied you for as long as he’d known you. Whatever it was, Roy was determined to make his move tonight.

“Alright there?”

You plastered on that fake smile when the footballer approached you in your sad little corner. “I’m good.” You eyed him as you sipped your drink. “Did I thank you for coming yet?”

He smirked, staring at your mouth. “Twice.”

“Ah.” You shrugged. “Well, let’s make it three, then. Thanks for coming.” You gave his arm a playful punch, cringing internally at the juvenile gesture. Dammit. Why did you always turn into an absolute dork around Roy Kent?

The answer, of course, was because he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever met.

He smiled down at you, clearly amused. “Thanks for inviting me.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced around the party, noting that no one seemed to be paying the two of you any mind. “What d’you want for your birthday anyway? Couldn’t think of a damn thing to get you,” he chuckled.

You. I want you for my birthday.

Yeah, like you could say that to Roy Kent.

Instead, you shook your head. “Absolutely nothing. You being here is more than enough.”

“You sure?” He smirked at you teasingly, a familiar and sexy sight. “You’re single now, so I mean, if you want to head upstairs, I’m sure I’ve got something I could give you.”

You stared at him for a moment, taking in his bearded grin and the way his brown eyes trailed brazenly down your figure and the way he was standing much closer than he should be and the way he was teasing you like he always did and- Oh.

His eyes widened as they raked over your sudden stunned expression. “Oh, shit, no, that was a joke. I-”

“Let’s go.”

Roy ran his fingers through his hair. “Oh, come on,” he huffed, squirming. “I’m fucking goofing around. I know you’re not interested-”

You leaned towards him. “What if I am?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Well, that’s kind of my goal,” you joked. “But I think we should head up to my room first, don’t you think?”

Roy Kent looked good with a blush on his face. “Lead the way, then.”

Not caring one bit if anyone saw you, you practically made a beeline for the stairs that led up to your bedroom, confident that Roy was right on your tail. It was surreal, seeing Roy Kent close your bedroom door behind him. He chuckled awkwardly as you turned on your dim bedside lamp.

“So.”

You sat down on the bed, eyebrows raised. “So.”

He joined you, letting his hand rest on your exposed thigh. “You going to tell me what you want for your birthday?” he teased.

“Is this obvious enough for you, Kent?”

You leaned towards him and pressed your lips to his, gently at first, but before long, his tongue was wrestling with yours as he leaned you back onto the bed, hand dipping under the hem of your dress, inching towards your quickly dampening panties. You gasped into his mouth when his fingers brushed against the material and tugged them to the side. Roy groaned when he felt your wetness.

“Fuck,” he sighed against your lips as his fingers began massaging your folds. “Even better than I imagined.”

Roy Kent had imagined what touching you would be like.

Somehow, that thought had you moaning more than Roy’s fingers did.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbled against your neck as he pressed sloppy kisses there. “Don’t know how anyone could let you go.” He pulled back, eyes sparkling wickedly. “I’ll make you forget all about him. Fucking promise.”

With that, Roy crawled down your body, stopping to hike your dress up over your hips. He settled his face between your legs, slowly pulling down your panties. His eyes never left yours as he stuck out his tongue and flicked your clit gently. Your hips bucked up into his mouth, prompting a soft chuckle from Roy.

He hooked his arms under your legs, tugging you closer to his mouth and spreading your shaking thighs. Still watching your face, he attached his mouth to your clit, wrapping his lips around it. You were so focused on the intense jolt you felt, you almost didn’t notice him slipping two fingers into your entrance until he was knuckles deep.

“Shit, Roy,” you whimpered, rocking your hips into his bearded face.

You could practically feel his smile against your heat. As he began pumping his digits in and out of your already soaking cunt, he began sucking your clit and humming around it; you giggled when you realized he was humming Happy Birthday.

You were suddenly grateful for the pulsing music you could hear through the door from downstairs, because Roy’s tongue had you moaning his name and the squelching sound of Roy’s fingers fucking you was growing louder and louder. You’d be an absolute liar if you said you’d never thought of Roy while touching yourself, even when you had a boyfriend; you probably came harder when you were all alone thinking of Roy Kent than you ever did in bed with your ex.

Meanwhile, Roy was squirming over your mattress, his throbbing hard cock jealous of his soaked fingers. Even though this was technically a gift for you, Roy couldn’t help but feel absolutely spoiled. You were a fucking sight, pure bliss on your face while you writhed around, your dress hiked up just for him, not caring that the hair you’d probably spent forever perfecting was quickly becoming wild.

Feeling selfish, he slipped in a third finger, uttering a soft “Fuck” against your clit when he felt you tighten around him, your warm cunt sucking on his digits desperately. You could feel a puddle forming underneath you, probably staining your comforter; a beautiful reminder of the mess Roy Kent was making of you.

“Roy,” you panted, giving his hair a harsh tug. “Gonna fucking-”

You never got to finish that sentence. He flattened his tongue, giving a rough, slow lick to your bundle of nerves, snapping the knot that had built up inside you. The string of profanities that left your mouth impressed even Roy, who’d really only heard that kind of talk in locker rooms; the sound only had his cock growing harder for you. He kept up his relentless pace, thrusting in and out of you, forcing his fingers to stay inside your tightening walls. When he saw the way your glossy eyes rolled back and felt your nails dig into his scalp, he quickened his pace, creating the lewdest, wettest sounds he had ever heard in his life; he was grateful for his position between your legs, so he could be surrounded by the beautiful sound of your soaking orgasm.

Eventually, your wriggling slowed down and your moans became heavy sighs. Roy tenderly withdrew his fingers from your cunt, releasing your clit he could taste his soaking digits. You weren’t sure what you expected Roy to do after your climax, but it sure wasn’t coming back down between your legs and lapping at your folds, determined to drink every last drop of your release.

The sound that came out of your mouth when Roy’s tongue dipped inside you was the most beautiful and sinful thing he’d ever heard. His tongue explored your aching pussy, devouring his reward for a job well done. His moans mixed with the vulgar sound of slurping and the pathetic whimpers that came out of your mouth as you tried to squirm out of his strong grip; he wasn’t letting you go anywhere, not that you really wanted to anyways. Not when he had your back arching and vision going black.

Satisfied that he’d swallowed every delicious drop, Roy finally removed himself from your heat. His eyes settled on your flushed face, with that sloppy, blissed out grin of yours, the one that followed a truly earth-shattering orgasm, the one you hadn’t worn often enough in the last year. And when Roy smirked at you, your juices dripping from his beard, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time he made you smile like that.

“Wow,” you finally murmured, attempting to sit up a little; your boneless body failed you, sending you flopping back onto the mattress. “That was some birthday gift, Roy. Think I’ll need a minute to recover before we head back downstairs.”

His dark chuckle had your pussy clenching again. “Oh, you thought that was your gift?” He sat up and began unbuckling his belt. “I’m not quite finished with you, birthday girl.”

#tally's smutober prompts #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine

[player1064]

Literally obsessed with the ask fics you’ve been doing, thank you 🥰 my suggestion to throw in is something on Jamie being whipped as hell…. I just love that as a concept and the latest STF where Gary’s instinct is to demand he provide him with clothing alternatives made me think of it hehe… like something regarding everyone knowing Jamie’s basically at his beck and call

JAMIE! IS! SO! WHIPPED!!!!! this is honestly such a core part of my carraville belief system anyway like ngl I do try sprinkle a bit of it into most of my fics so YES I loved writing this!!!

---

“Alright guys, we’ve got a fifteen minute break and then I need you all back in your seats,” a producer calls out once they’ve cut to the match.

Immediately, everyone on the set of Monday Night Football starts bustling around, setting up equipment or wandering over to the craft table for something to eat or drink.

Jamie rushes off without a word, and David stands up to do the same but ends up hovering awkwardly next to the desk when Gary doesn’t move from his seat, just gets his iPad out from under and starts to type furiously on the little bluetooth keyboard.

“You’re not coming for a coffee?”

“Huh?” Gary blinks up at him. “Oh, no, Carra’ll get me one.”

David gives Gary a disbelieving look but goes off to get his own refreshments anyway. By the time he gets back, Jamie’s wordlessly setting a mug down next to Gary’s elbow, along with a couple of custard creams. He doesn’t wait for Gary to acknowledge him (which he doesn’t), just sits back down in his seat and starts scrolling on his phone, glancing up across the desk with a smug smile when Gary picks up the mug to take a sip.

*

“Where the fuck is Jamie?” Gary asks as he whirls around Sky studios lobby, not stopping for long enough for anyone to actually respond. “James! James, you twat, where are ya, I ‘ave to be back in Manchester for five, can’t believe you’re makin’ me wait –”

“Alright, alright, keep your tits on,” Jamie says as he rushes in, coat only half pulled on. “Jesus, it’s your fault I’m late, y’know. You left your airpods in the dressing room, I ‘ad to go back and get them ‘fore I was stuck with your whining for the next four hour.”

Gary frowns, pats his pockets, then looks at Jamie bewildered when he finds nothing. Jamie drops the case into his hands.

“How’d you even –” he starts, but Jamie’s already hurrying towards the waiting car.

*

“I always get so hungry while we’re commentating, wish there was a – a runner, or somethin’, who could go get us some snacks.”

Jamie, who’d been about to start saying something into his mic, shoots Gary a glare and then starts raving about brilliant possession. While he’s talking, though, he uses his foot to push his bag out from under his seat and towards Gary, gives him a little kick in the ankle for emphasis.

When Gary opens the bag there’s a few packets of hula hoops, some chocolate bars, a packet of wine gums, a couple of apples which he studiously ignores, and some granola bars. He grabs a few things so that he doesn’t have to go rummaging again later, then holds out one of the chocolate bars to Jamie.

Jamie glances at the offering and shakes his head, waves it away. “Not big on sweets, am I?” he says once he’s put his microphone down.

*

“Jamie – Jamie, can you c’mere for a second?” asks Gary, waving him over to where he’s stood talking to Wrighty.

Jamie gets up from his seat and walks aver, looks between the two of them expectantly. “Yeah?”

Gary reaches up to pluck the glasses from his face, which gets almost no reaction from Jamie beyond a surprised blink when Gary’s hand first approaches him.

“See, Wrighty, look at this,” Gary says, as if Jamie were nothing more than a mannequin. “He’s way blinder than you or me, I dunno how ‘e’s not always crashing into things when he’s not got them on.”

“I think you’re right, check out the magnification on these things!”

*

“Ugh, Jesus, what kind of place only takes cash?” Roy complains, searching through his pockets to no avail. “And to only tell you after they’ve made your order, now I just look like a prick. Do either of you boys have any notes?”

Gary and Jamie both say no, and Roy’s about to turn back and go to the counter to tell this poor teenager that he can’t buy the food after all, when Gary squints at Jamie suspiciously then holds up a finger to say hold on to Roy.  

 “Shame, that, ‘cause them sandwiches look really good. An’ I only had a piece of toast at breakfast.”

“Not my fault you’ve not been grocery shopping in two weeks,” Jamie says, rolling his eyes. At the same time, though, he’s reaching into the pocket of his jeans for his wallet, pulling out a ten pound note and handing it to Gary.

Gary grins triumphantly and hands the note to Roy.

*

“Glad ‘e’s got too heavy to pick up now,” says Paul with a nod towards Gary. “Else he’d be jumping at us every time Salford scores.”

“Oi!” Gary reaches out to whack Scholesy in the arm. “I am not fuckin’ heavy, d’you mind? If I wanted to jump at people I’d jump at people, ta very much. I’m just more civilised now, like.”

“No, Gaz, y’just know that if you try it we’ll both end up on our arses looking like twats. You prob’ly don’t even have the leg strength to –”

“Jamie!” Gary cries out, interrupting him. “Jamie, go stand over there, would ya?”

Jamie raises an eyebrow at him but gets up off his seat and goes to the flat platform at the back of the stand. Gary follows, then without warning does a pathetic little run-up and launches himself into Jamie’s arms, his legs wrapped tight around him.

Jamie gives a little humph under his weight, which Gary ignores to raise his hands in the air in celebration. “Ha!” he says, “see, Scholesy, told you y’were talkin’ nonsense!”

“Gary, y’great lump, are you planning to stay up ‘ere much longer? Not sure my old man knees can take it.”

“Shush, you.”

Jamie shushes.

#not sure if in this one they're together yet or not. funnier if they're not and jamie's just. insane. #and gary doesnt realise how insane jamie actually is about him. but everyone else is like oh my fucking god #thanks again for the suggestion! #carraville #drabbles

[sideboot]

Jamie Tartt is walking around when he accidentally knocks into a middle aged woman hard enough to make her drop her yoga mat and she takes one look at him and immediately starts bullying him into carrying her things to the studio to make it up to her.  Jamie goes along.  She is the same age as his mom, and he did run into her.

It’s clear she recognizes him from Lust Conquers All and only Lust Conquers All “How are you keeping yourself busy these days?  Football?  That’ll be just the thing you need!  Time with the lads.  Lord knows, I need my time with the girls.  And you need something to keep you in shape, though more you with how much you take your shirt off.”

Jamie jokes, you must be the only fan of how I was on this show and she’s like “oh no, you were the favorite of everyone.  Show was never the same after you left.  I say that, but the real show I was watching is how every week our young man would completely deny that you were his favorite.  All this bluster, but it was so obvious.  After you got canned, he lost all interest. 

“He’s had a hard time after his break up, of course I understand with my divorce, he was such a help, buying all the drinks, we were trying to do a rewatch to cheer him up but he said no. 

“And he won’t let me set him up with anyone can you believe, when he’s such a handsome and single young man.  Rich, or we think, won’t let on a thing to the rest of us about what he does, no matter how we beg, maureen thinks drugs, but he would never, but it does make him mysterious and very attractive,”

Jamie is like get it girl.  She’s like “hush as if I were interested. I might have a picture let me take a very long time to scroll through my entire camera roll.  No need to help me I’m just sooo old and sooo clumsy with technology.”

Jamie’s like we can take a picture before I have to go and she’s like no!! you can’t!!! because uhhh

Jamie is mentally like got it I am being expertly fillibustered into staying long enough so she can cheer up a guy by trying to set him up with his celebrity crush.  Well, I’m an attention slut with nothing better to do.  I will stay, give out a few photos and autographs what can it hurt.

Only for who to walk in but a stormy faced Roy Kent in a tank top shorts and leggings.

#my post #ted lasso #ted lasso show #ted lasso tv #jamie tartt #roy kent #notfic #roy x jamie #janice yoga mum #well i hit Post Instead Of Schedule So I Guess This Is Going Live Now

[babytarttdoodoo]

This isn't a fic request (though I am looking forward to a lot you've got on your pending list!!) but you write Roy x Jamie so nicely as an established couple. Would love to know your thoughts on how they get together and how that relationship works?

Oh, gosh, well, thank you for asking! This all may well make it into a longer fic one day but in the meantime have my disjointed ramblings.

Firstly, I do think it would be a decent amount of time after canon before they got around to it. Like, a year at least.

Roy is taking steps to work on himself (namely, he has to deal with his temper and communication before they would ever be able to work) and needs space to work through that. Jamie is also experiencing probably the most stable period of his life he's ever had and deserves time to enjoy it.

If we think that Colin and Michael's kiss didn't cause an absolute riot in-universe, I could see Jamie coming out as bi (even if only to take the heat off Colin) and dating a few men publicly. We love a sexy little king getting to safely explore his sexuality with a rabidly invested support network around him. This could also be what triggers Roy to start thinking about him in that way.

Might be controversial but I don't think either he or Roy would have a lot of experience being involved with other men from pre-canon. Between football culture and the potential risk to their careers, women were just an easier option. I do, however, believe Roy knows he's attracted to men (20 years in locker rooms pls), but is just repressed enough to have never seriously considered that his fixation on Jamie might be romantic or sexual in nature.

Realising he feels jealous is a genuine surprise. It's probably still a while before he does anything about it.

Honestly torn between ' a heat of the moment kiss followed by lots of Talking' or 'Roy invites Jamie to dinner and A Very Mature Conversation'. Either way, they definitely need to talk extensively before anything happens.

Roy is Jamie's manager. Yes, I know there are instances of it happening in the women's game and being fine. A relationship between two very famous male sports personalities would, unfortunately, be a whole different kettle of fish.

Therefore they agree to:

Go slow and feel out if this could even work before getting too deep.

Having a few confidantes in the know (Keeley, Georgie, Rebecca, maybe Beard) so they're not in a closed loop of secrecy with each other.

Keeping professional decisions out of it as much as possible.

That last one is contentious because so much of who they are individually and to each other is tied up in football. When they do, in fact, think they can have a serious relationship, it becomes apparent very quickly that they also have to tell the team. One, because it will keep them accountable; two, because the number of times they're nearly caught fooling around is genuinely ridiculous.

Roy smiles at Jamie a lot. It's a bone-chilling sight without context.

Jamie will move to another team eventually. It's what makes sense for his development and career path. I have more thoughts on that trajectory but for this I'll just say that, when he starts getting offers, he does consider that it might make keeping his work and personal lives separate a lot easier.

There are a lot of good times. They understand each other extremely well. They push each other towards self-improvement across the board. Jamie is wonderful with Phoebe. Roy and Simon develop a baked goods based bromance.

There are some tough times. Their careers takes them all over the country and beyond. Distance strains them. They both internalise a lot of negative feelings for fear of ruining what they do have.

(They each think the other deserves better. They are idiots.)

But talking to each other always gets them over the hurdles. Loving each other always brings them back together.

Once Jamie steps back from playing, falling back on modelling and charity work with underprivileged kids, they finally, quietly, go public.

The wedding is beautiful.

#under a cut because it got loooooong #sorry anon #roy x jamie #roy/jamie #jamie tartt #roy kent #headcanon thoughts

[its-time-to-write]

Hi!! I absolutely love yo he fics talk about carrying the Jamie tartt fic community 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

could you please write something about like the Richmond team being out at a bar and someone kissing Jamie and reader seeing and the chaos that ensues, hopefully with a happy ending but I trust whatever you want to do 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Haha hey, thanks! I write because I have a lot of things in my head, so thanks for enjoying it and for requesting!

Also I literally hate looking for gifs because I can never find the ones I want

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

“Why did I let you drag me here?” you ask your absolute best friend the whole world, “I hate bars so much!”

Colin grins. “It’s good for you to get out of your flat and into the real world for a change. You’re getting all pasty.”

“I am not!”

You can’t help but catch onto his infectious mood. He’s still happy after scoring a winning goal, so he and Michael convinced you to go out with them even though it was almost a whole week ago. 

You and Colin had grown up together, kicking the football around his backyard until age ten, when you declared you were never playing with him again because he was “unbeatable.” 

You hate losing. 

You two had been inseparable, even at university. Colin was more outgoing, what with football and all. You were too, in your own way, but you hated bars. And going to the club. You said it was too many drunk, sweaty people but both Michael and Colin promised that it would be fun this time. 

“If I have to go, you have to go,” Michael had said to you. 

You had groaned, but acquiesced. You’re not too sure of your decision anymore, especially because of how many footballers are present.

The last time you were out with them, one of Colin’s teammates had taken it upon himself to flirt with you the entire night. And he flirted very well. Like, so well that you went home that night incredibly flustered. So well that it now occupied a permanent place in your brain. You played the moment he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear on repeat in your mind, like a tab on your laptop that you couldn’t bring yourself to close. 

And you told fucking Michael, who told fucking Colin, who then teased you about it mercilessly until you swore you’d tell the press about the Incident when you two were ten.

Colin shut up after that. 

Actually, that’s not entirely true. You’d go out to coffee and he’d say, “Saw your footballer today,” and you’d say, “He’s not MY footballer,” and Michael would ask, “Then why are you blushing?” so you’d respond, “I’m not blushing, it’s just hot in here, alright?”

Anyway, you’re at this fucking bar filled with fucking footballers and you catch yourself looking around the room for one in particular, and Michael catches you too. He doesn’t say anything, just winks at you and pulls Colin over to an open booth. 

You tell Colin all the time that you like Michael better than him. It’s because Michael knows the meaning of the word discretion. 

“I can be discreet,” Colin says. 

“And I can play football,” you reply.

Michael says you two bicker like a pair of siblings. He’s not wrong.

Right now, though, you’re not bickering. A few of Colin’s friends are filling in the booth. Sam slides in first, then Isaac, and then finally Jamie. 

Michael is sitting opposite Sam, then Colin, then you. 

You’re all squished in, ordering drinks and food, swapping stories and laughing like you’ve known each other for ages. 

You suppose you sort of have. 

You’ve known Colin the longest, obviously, but the next one is Isaac. You met him shortly after university because he was always around Colin. You met Sam once he signed for Richmond, and Jamie when he domineered the little triad of him, Isaac, and Colin. 

You really didn’t like Jamie. 

You told Colin all the time that he was a prick and a bully, but Colin wouldn’t listen. 

It actually was the cause for one of your biggest fights. You two didn’t speak for three months. 

Then Roy head-butted Colin and Jamie was gone, and you’re sure there are other details in between but whatever the case, Colin was at your doorstep with takeout and an apology. You watched Look Both Ways and argued about which was was the best. And that was that. 

When Jamie showed back up, you were less than thrilled. 

“If you fucking act like that prick again, I’ll fucking sabotage this date,” you had said. You were setting up Colin with a friend of yours named Michael. You didn’t know him incredibly well, but you had a lot of mutual friends who absolutely adored him. You were pretty sure he and Colin would click but you didn’t want Colin to act like a douche again. 

He didn’t. It worked out for him. 

Jamie knew who you were to a certain extent, which you suppose is why he was flirting with you that night at the club. Your distaste for him was evident, but you felt so uncomfortable in that environment. You were sitting alone, trying to make yourself invisible, when a tipsy Jamie found you and began to make it his mission to get you to a) smile and b) not hate him. He succeeded at both, as well as secret mission c) make you blush and fall madly in love with him. (Not that he knew that option existed.)

But he did that with all the girls, so you tried not to let it go to your head. 

It did anyway, which is why you’re sitting in this booth in this bar trying not to look at his perfect face for to long and pretending you don’t notice that his foot is resting next to yours under the table. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink,” he says, pushing himself up. You can’t help but notice the glint of his thin gold chain and the way his shirt hugs his bicep. Colin pokes you under the table. 

You look back to the group and try to immerse yourself in the conversation, but you are far too distracted. Your eyes keep flicking to Jamie. 

Jamie, as he orders a drink. Jamie, as he laughs to the bartender, Jamie as he… kisses a fit blonde girl in a tight skirt?

You look back to your table, eyes fixated on the chips in front of you. Oh. You suppose that settles things then. 

You close the tab in your mind and try to muster up some of the old dislike you had for Jamie. It’s not really working, because all you can think about is how he drunkenly waxed poetic about your eyes and told you he had liked them even when they were angry. 

This is the first time you’ve seen him since that night, so it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. What were you expecting, for him to soberly declare his love? Maybe Colin had over-hyped the way he said Jamie had asked about you the next day. Maybe he was exaggerating when he said he caught Jamie looking at the picture of you and Colin from uni that Colin had taped to his locker. 

Maybe you were looking for something real in someone who was just looking for the next good time. 

It doesn’t matter though, because it was just a crush. That’s what you tell yourself as you get up and tell the table you’re going to get some fresh air. “Too many sweaty boys,” you say with a nose wrinkle, and a squeeze to Colin’s hand that means I’m feeling anxious and need cold air. 

You’re breezing out the door by the time Jamie returns, hair slightly tousled and frazzled expression. Michael and Colin exchange a look.

—

Meanwhile, you’re outside freezing just a little bit. The cold air is a welcome shock to your system, so you don’t mind the way you’re shivering. You take a deep breath, envisioning your lungs expanding to the point of popping. Your breath comes out in a whoosh, and you feel the anxiety beginning to dissipate. You stand, back against the bar wall, puffing cold air into the sky for a long time, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 

You’re outside so long, that when the door opens and you hear footsteps coming toward you, you’re sure it’s Colin or Michael coming to make sure you haven’t been murdered. 

“You plannin’ on freezing to death?” asks a voice that is neither Colin nor Michael. The owner of said voice leans against the wall next to you, mirroring your position. He’s so close you can feel heat radiating off his body, but you’re not quite touching. 

You shake your head. “No, I’m not,” you hear yourself saying, “I just got a little anxious and the cold air is good for me, so… here I am.”

Jamie makes a concerned hm and nothing else. He just stands there next to you, not touching but still too close. 

“Why are you out here?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Thought you’d be inside. Looks like you met someone interesting. She might be missing you.” 

There’s no malice in your tone. You’re just stating facts as an observer. As a friend, maybe. The only thing that colors your words is just a hint of sadness. You’re sure Jamie won’t register it. 

He grimaces and shakes his head. “Ain’t my friend. Some fan who thinks it’s fucking cool to kiss a footballer. Weren’t paying attention, otherwise I could’ve blocked it. I fucking hate it when that happens. It’s like, they don’t even see me as a real person. Just a sexy lad they can do whatever with.”

You chuckle at the way he says “sexy lad.” It reminds you of the way he had told you he had been a “wee sexy baby.”

“That fucking sucks,” you say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it like that.” You’re taking deep, calming breaths, still trying to get rid of that anxious feeling. 

Jamie just shrugs. He makes no indication that he’s going to continue speaking so you ask, “So, is that why are you out here, then? Is it to get away from her? Because if anyone should have to leave, it’s her. Pretty sure we could talk to someone and get her kicked out.”

You shiver, cold air beginning to seep through your coat. Jamie closes the gap between you, his bicep pressing against yours. You stifle another shiver, this one not from cold. 

“Nah,” he replies, “that’s not why I’m here. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Oh. That’s weird. “Why didn’t Colin or Michael come?”

Jamie shrugs again. “Colin said some shit about fuckin whatever and Michael said the same fuckin shit, so…” he trails off. 

You look up at him. “Jamie. You’re not making any fucking sense. I don’t know if it’s the cortisol flowing through my body or if you’ve had too much to drink, but you have got to be a whole lot clearer.”

That seems to get his attention, and bring him back to the reality that you two are outside, in the fucking cold, and he’s chatting with you as if nothing is wrong. 

Jamie puffs out a breath, watching it coil into the air. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, then settles on: “I ain’t drunk.”

You’re still looking at him. He’s right. He’s stone-cold sober. 

“I wanted to make sure you were alright. Colin said that you’d probably rather see me than him so… I dunno, I fucking came out here. I’ve been thinking about you ever since the last time we talked.”

Your cheeks flush bright red, and you’re grateful for the night sky. You keep taking your deep breaths. 

Jamie continues, “You flirted with me for fucking five seconds, and it’s like- I forgot you hated me. Didn’t care about anything anymore, you just smiled at me fucking one time and I felt like I was floating.” He stares at the sky. “I fucking hate talking about feelings and shit, and you’re basically Colin’s sister, so I figured I didn’t have a chance. But I’ve been fucking head-over-heels since the first time you glared at me.”

You’re pretty sure this is an anxiety hallucination. That’s a thing, right?

Jamie is no longer staring at the sky, but looking at you. He breathes out a laugh. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make it weird.” He moves to go back inside but you grab his arm. 

“Jamie,” you say. The look on his face when you say his name is so hopeful, that you feel your heart shatter and reform almost instantaneously. “Jamie, you- you like me? You came out here because you like me? And that’s why you were drunkenly flirting with me last month?”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” 

Your hand is still on his arm, and you’re standing face to face. You’re still breathing heavily, but so is he. You slowly run your hand up his arm and cup his face. He’s staring at you, mere inches apart, as you stand on tiptoe to reach his lips.

He kisses you back with the hunger of a starving man, arms wrapped around your waist the moment your lips make contact. You’re pulling each other closer, forgetting the freezing cold, when you hear an, “Oi, boyo.”

It’s Colin and Michael, walking out from the bar, headed home. 

You and Jamie break apart and Colin points to him. “Break her heart, Michael and I will break your fucking legs.”

Jamie grins and nods, and you just roll your eyes. You’re going to have to tell them everything, but right now they’re walking away and it’s fucking cold, so Jamie’s pulling you back to him again to pick up where you left off. 

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

[fanficfanattic]

Goal, Chance and/or Away (purely taking words from this football commentary rn lol)

I am once again impressed with the gems my recent word challenges have excavated. Six fic snippets under the cut.

Goal

1. From a fic where a newly returned Jamie sees a man drug a lady’s drink at a bar and intervenes. But without context it just looks like Jamie got in a bar fight.

He knows it plays into the idea that he is a prima donna, a moody little bitch, feels like its proof that he’s more trouble than he’s worth. But he can’t help laying in bed; with the team that can barely stand him downstairs watching a movie, while he’s been fucking grounded to his room like the child Roy always said he was, and feeling desperately alone.

He hadn’t cared about being alone, before Ted. During most of his time with Ted, even. His dad had always made him either actively drive people away or that was just the practical application of conforming to his demands. He’d been used to it. It was all he’d ever known.

And then Keeley said he should stop battling the people trying to help him. And he sacrificed the reminder he’d taken from home, of home, when he left it. And danced around a bonfire after Roy Kent said he was right about something. Dani had thrown his arm around him. He’d sung with the lads…

It was fun, and it made it hurt even more when the next day he’d gone back to how it had always been. He didn’t tell Ted how much time he’d spent fantasizing about what it would have been like to have gotten to stay. To develop those tiny first buds of friendships.

To have never relegated Richmond. To be playing in the now with his teammates but versions of them he’d grown alongside for months. Who never got extra pissed at him for shit talking them on tv, and destroying their Captain’s career, for sending them down.

To be trusted. Before, the only thing a team had cared about was wether they could trust him to score. Which was still technically true. But they hadn’t ever wanted more from him, and he certainly hadn’t been putting extra out there for free. Besides he hadn’t trusted anyone else much either. Maybe Man City to be good players and to work together towards a common goal. And Richmond to pass him the ball to score the first time around.

Now he trusted Dani to smile at him even when no one else would. He trusted Jeff to subtly nod, but not more than that, because he had greeted Jamie when he returned before realizing how mad everyone else was at him. Not that Jamie blamed him. He’d gone out of his way to message the man saying the small nod was probably better for both of them.

He hadn’t realized it until the moment Ted didn’t even let him talk that he’d trusted the man to be fair. He talked a good talk, but he had trouble walking the good walk, and was pretty lousy at both when it came to Jamie.

2. Now that the team has been gelling, and Roy understands how Jamie’s mind works more, he’s got a plan to run circles around West Ham.

“Kent, the fuck mate! You said you could keep in position!”

“Fuck you Tartt! Maybe if you weren’t-“

They had been yelling about the play in the heat of being pissed off at each other. Jamie had telegraphed the pass to Roy very clearly. And the defender who was supposed to be on the left, loosely marking Sam, tore off to be another line of defense between Roy Kent and their goal.

Unfortunately for them, even when Roy and him had been out for blood against each other, they’d have never been that stupid. Jamie doesn’t even twist his body fully the way it should be for the kick. It still rolls smoothly to Sam who buries it in the back of the net from his completely cleared lane.

Chance

1. From the Investigative Journalist epic.

“…for as long as I remember, when I heard people say things, I always thought they meant it however the worst possible way is. But a lot of people say it while meaning it in the best possible way turns out.”

“And how does this relate back to you thinking people are rude when they talk around a subject?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m trying to do that more.”

“What more?”

“Identify when I’m doing that kind of thinking that what someone is doing is the worst version it could be. So, society probably isn’t trying to be rude by talking around things. I think it’s accidentally rude.”

“Do you mean incidentally?”

“What’s the difference?”

“They both mean something happened by chance. Accidental implies that the thing happened by carelessness while incidental indicates it would still happen this way even if people were taking care.”

“I think people want to believe it’s that last one but I believe it’s more often the first one. Cause I can be the same way. I normally don’t think much before talking, and if I did that more, I’d say things differently or maybe not say anything at all.”

2. This is also from the platonic a/b/o fic I didn’t realize had so many scenes already sketched out. The scenario is that James had a shady doctor prescribing Jamie pills that included an (i fucking guess) untraceable dynamic suppression med. When his dad is too busy to deal with a refill, Jamie asks Richmond’s med team to prescribe him a new vitamin pack.

“Oh that bastard. I’m gonna kill him this time, Simon, I am!”

“Georgie, c’mon, let’s focus on Jamie now and murdering later, yeah?”

“Fine, fine! So doctor, what about that? Like I believe his father would hurt him, cause that’s his way, but the how doesn’t make any sense. With vitamins?”

“Well, we don’t know if there is anything different between the vitamins his dad got for him and what we provided here. The best way to find out is with a blood test.

And you’re Jamie’s medical health proxy. So-“

“Yes, you’ve got my. You need to do a blood draw? Run tests?”

“Yes ma’am. You’re granting permission for the draw?”

“Yes, of course. What the fuck. How-how soon will you know? Does he have to go to hospital? It’ll take us almost four hours to get there. Do we-“

“Georgie, she can’t answer any questions if you don’t give her a chance, love. Take another deep breath for me, okay? In and in and in. Hold and hold and hold. Out and out and out. Okay, again.” And after she kept at it, he addressed the doctor again.

3. From that evil fic I teased about. I’ve played coy about what happened before now but you caught me! Rebecca walks onto the practice pitch ‘without Jamie’, Ted notes to himself.

“Jamie’s parents were in a car accident this morning. That’s why I called for him. His mother is being held overnight for observation and is quite understandably shaken. She called Man City to get a hold of Jamie, and when she explained what was going on she was able to talk with Pep. He promised he’d talk to Jamie so she could rest.

And then he called me directly.”

It was silent for a moment, and she was tempted to look around to better gauge player reactions. She kept her eyes on Ted, instead, because his was both more important and certainly more interesting. As she’d begun her story, he’d paled alarmingly.

And he failed to spill forth some folksy American tale to talk circles around everyone. Instead he hoarsely asked only one question.

“And his father?”

It gave away a weakness he had, which Rebecca was sure he neither realized he’d done nor that it was one. And why would he be worried about that, she reminded herself, when he also doesn’t realize he’s in game of your making.

“Ah, I should have been more precise in my language. His biological father divorced his mother when he was still an infant, I’ve been informed. It was his stepfather that was driving and took the brunt of the impact. He died on scene.”

She didn’t say it icily or meanly. She just said it without warmth. And that impacted the players more than she’d thought possible. Unfortunately it took time for her to understand that, because at the moment everyone just appeared to be in shock.

Ted didn’t ask anymore questions, and the silence was getting uncomfortable even for her.

“Well, since she took her late husband’s last name, there is a chance this won’t make the papers without the name Tartt attached. Still, if it does, Keeley made some excellent points about how we want to look. So no one go on your socials until she’s spoken with you.

Back to training now.” And she turned to walk away, not once looking back.

Away

1. ^ Chance #3

2. ^ Goal #1

3. I shamelessly stole this idea from a fic where Ted has Jamie stay with Roy in a similar manner as hockey players sometimes do? Apparently. So season 2 Jamie returns to Richmond. And Ted cooks up a thing where Jamie is going to room with Sam. Help them get their differences settled. And then…and then James Tartt shows up.

Jamie sort of unthinkingly says “Oh, Ted knows about me da’”. And Sam is sure that Jamie must have misunderstood what happened until he hears about Ted walking away but sending the soldier. And the conversation Jamie and Ted had in the Crown & Anchor.

#jamie tartt #dani rojas #jeff goodman #ted lasso #referenced attempted date rape #bar fight but make it a rescue #roy kent #trick plays #a/b/o #alpha beta omega #platonic a/b/o #death of a parent #death of a stepparent #georgie ted lasso #jamie’s mum georgie #simon ted lasso #jamie’s stepdad simon #sam obisanya #james tartt sr

[thetarttfuldickhead]

I felt *so* bad for Jamie in that locker room scene. Like, it’s established that he’s the one with the most Total Football knowledge, because he trained under the guy who learned from the inventor, and everyone was yelling at *him* for not scoring goals.

It didn’t occur to anyone to say “Hey Jamie, you learned from Pep, any ideas for us?”. And he thought he would get in trouble if he spoke up 🥺

(I’ve been thinking about this all week and it still makes no sense)

Hello there!

Totally see where you’re coming from here: it’s certainly hard not to feel for Jamie when he’s doing his best to sort out the clusterfuck on the pitch only to get scolded for it.

For what it’s worth, though, I don’t think there’s any malice or slight intended from the other players. While the message about Jamie being the natural heir to total football might have been clearly communicated to us television audiences, I’m not so sure it was equally unequivocal to our boys in the locker room. Who knows what Coach Beard, bless his cunning and weird little heart, intends or doesn’t intend, but the bit about Jamie-coached-by-Pep was immediately overshadows by Jamie-the-beautiful-dum-dum, so I’m inclined to cut my himbos some slack for failing to consider that our boy of the godkissed right foot might have some privilieged knowledge. Besides, between Beard’s presentation and the game there are several days of Roy Kent’s School of Senseless String Sadism, so is there any wonder they’re a little fuzzy on most everything?

Also, I can’t help but think that it’s kind of a good thing that they other players feel comfortable standing up to Jamie when they feel that it’s warranted? In a way, their whole problem here is that they to some extent treat him like Zava’s successor – ie expect him to do all the work – but there’s also an important difference: for all their expectations, they still see him as part of the team and one of them, rather than some semi-deified soccer* superstar. That’s hugely important, I feel, for a team who once tended to bow down the the careless tyranny of Jamie Tartt in his prick era – and hugely important for Jamie too, who has worked so hard to go from one man show to teamplayer.

But yes: while Colin and Bumber was offering reasonable opinions in a reasonable way, given their understanding of the situation, Isaac was out of line. That’s in keeping with what we’ve seen of his character so far, though: he is given to outbursts. I’d like to think that after the match (and after Ted’s given one no. 9 his due in the post-game speech), Isaac offers some small apology. Nothing elaborate, just a clap on the shoulder and sorry I yelled at you, bruv, great playing out there and that’s that. Tempers run high on adrenaline, and I think Jamie gets that. Professional footballer and all.

I have argued that Jamie is concerned about the team turning on him if they perceive him as slipping back into bad habits and I stand by that – but I don’t really think it’s a crippling fear of Jamie’s. It’s a concern; he check the waters; he is brave; it works out and his confidence in his bond with the team and their faith in him is strenghtened. Admittedly, given Amsterdam and The Strings that Bind Us, I am getting slightly concerned that Jamie is so busy making sure he holds himself accountable that he forgets to others should hold themselves accountable to him too. We’ll have to wait and see how that develops before making any final calls on his state of mind in this scene, I think. (Ah, the dangers of metaing a text that’s still unfolding!)

Does any of this make sense to you at all? I fully get that this might not be the answer that you’re looking for; it’s intended to offer an alternative and slightly happier reading of the scene, but I fully respect that it might utterly fail to convince you. Sorry abou that, in that case, and thank you for the ask, anyhow: I had fun thinking about this!

Oh, and glorious username, btw. Fully support that.

*Obviously football is the proper and correct term but never let it be said I won’t engage in American terminology for the sake of alliteration.

#jamie tartt #3x07 #asks #eh might change my mind and all of this tomorrow #fluid readings baby #i'm all about that #my stuff

[carrie-organa]

Here’s How I Would’ve Ended Ted Lasso

My version includes:

actually acknowledging Keeley’s importance and making Roy not a creep.

actually calling Ted out for his weird ass behavior. This guy is depressed and no one ever asks him about his horrible self esteem issues.

Here, take it before I go insane.

Ted’s Storyline

The team would talk about Ted’s decision and there would be a debate about it. Sam and Jamie agree that he should go home to his son (for different but obvious reasons). Colin and Isaac believe strongly in found family and don’t understand why Ted choosing his son has to mean him abandoning them. Jamie’s perspective is changed. They have a good point.

Rebecca’s storyline in general was odd this episode. Her constantly reaching out to Ted and him shutting her down is so stupid and at odds with their relationship.

I would’ve had Ted explain his decision when she’s giving him her “You go, I’ll go” speech. Talk about his dad and bring up the 9/13 connection. WHY WAS THIS NEVER ACKNOWLEDGED.

Ted saying that not only does Henry miss him, no one here needs him anymore. He’s given them every tool he can think of and there’s nothing left for him to do. There’s nothing else he can give them.

side note: I think this is really at the root of Ted’s issues and I’m flabbergasted that no one calls him on it. He only feels like he should stay in situations where he’s needed. He never stays somewhere because he wants to be there. He’s the traveling salesman of optimism.

Rebecca: You’re right Ted, maybe we don’t need you to remind us to have hope or to believe in ourselves. To reach for happiness. But just because we no longer need you does not mean you are not wanted. Are you happy here? Ted: It’s not that simple. Henry— Rebecca: Yes, I know about Henry, and I completely understand your concerns. I’m asking you if you’re happy here. You, Ted Lasso, the man, not the coach or the father. Are. You. Happy. Ted (bursting with it): Yes. Of course I am. I never thought I’d have an experience like this in my life. It doesn’t seem real. It feels like I fell asleep and I’m going to wake up in exactly the same place I started when I woke up. But I can’t leave Henry. I can’t abandon my son because I like my job. That’s not fair to him.

Ted’s weird detachment would’ve been addressed during the game. The team’s first half wasn’t effected by them crying over Beard’s video but rather by Ted’s refusal to coach them anymore.

Ted: I’m not gonna give y’all a pep talk. Jamie: why the FUCK not? why are you checking out? (puppy dog eyes) what did we do wrong? Ted: deer in the headlights. Turns to Beard and Roy for help. They don’t offer any. They’re wondering the same thing.

No one is disputing that there’s an issue with Ted’s situation. It hurts to be away from his son, it hurts Henry to be away from his dad. HOWEVER — the only solution isn’t to go home and leave everyone behind.

Ted makes some kind of analogy to ties in football games. Sometimes there are no-win scenarios and you just have to accept it. Roy: that’s bullshit.

The episode is about Ted losing sight of his own philosophy and the people who love him reminding him of it. Restoring his sense of belief and optimism. Telling him not to accept a no-win scenario.

The RoyKeeleyJamie of it all

Roy’s obsession with getting Keeley back when she keeps pushing him away is cringey. Someone needs to ask him why he’s being so insistent. I choose Rebecca.

Rebecca: if you don’t explain yourself right now I’m sending you to HR. I’ve never seen you act like this.

After Jamie/Keeley hug

Roy: what were you talking to Keeley about? Jamie: none of your business, mate. Roy (still an insecure bean): Are you guys…getting back together? Jamie (furrowed brows): No? I just asked if she would go on a business trip to New Zealand with me. Make sure I don’t get thrown out of the entire country hitting on the Prime Minister. Roy (unable to help himself): She’s not PM anymore. Jamie: Hm. Shame. Well, she’s still fit. Jamie makes it clear he’s not interested in starting anything with Keeley, after Mom City he knows he really needs to work on himself before he can date anybody. The perspective is very much side-eying Roy, who has decided to ignore all of his issues.

WHY HAS NO ONE ASKED KEELEY WHAT SHE WANTS.

Roy and Jamie still go to a bar. Still end up at Keeley’s door. But this time not because they were fighting over her (because cringe. even though both of them have feelings for her, they respect her autonomy). No, this time, Roy got fucking pissed and he’s being a sad sack and refuses to go home so Jamie followed him to Keeley’s to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.

Jamie: Roy, mate, let’s go home. We’ll get a kebab on the way. Roy: No, I just…I just need to know what I’m doing wrong. Please. Keeley: Roy… Roy: If you just tell me then I can fix it! Keeley: It isn’t you! (off Roy) It’s not. I promise. I just…I keep ending up in these intense, whirlwind relationships, and I can’t jump into another one again. Not yet. Not until I know it’s going to end up differently. Because I swear to god, Roy, if I lose you again (tearing up) I will not survive it. I barely survived it the first time. Roy: me too… Jamie (cannot handle uncomfortable situations): Yeah me neither, if I’m honest. (off looks from them both) WHAT? You were both so sad and quiet. Well, this one’s always quiet (gesture to Roy) but it was different. It was weird. I saw him crying in his car once. Roy: I was not crying in the car… Jamie: Yes you were! I saw you wipe a tear! Keeley: BOYS! (they’re exhausting. it’s late. she wants to stop being ambushed into these emotional conversations). something about how her type is clearly smoking hot, intense brunettes (check the math — Jamie, Roy, Jack). Preferably by a cheeky Jamie as he leads a quiet Roy to an uber.

The season has not set up Roy and Keeley to get back together. It just hasn’t. But I think it has set up Keeley to acknowledge how much Roy means to her and to explain why she’s skittish about getting back together with him right now. I think she wants to give him a chance, it’s just going to take some time.

I’d like to see a scene with just the two of them where Keeley asks him not to give up, please. Because that’s Roy’s issue, he quits while he’s ahead and he gives up because it’s easier than getting really hurt. He’s putting himself out there, and I love that because growth, but I think there needs to be an acknowledgment that he’s gone about it wrong.

Roy: I know that I’ve been a right fucking twat with all this badgering and I apologize. I know it’s all too little, too late and you’ve moved on. I do want to be friends, if you’ll let me. I just can’t handle another year where you’re not a part of my life. It’s unbearable. Keeley: It really was. Roy: If you want to get coffee sometime, or something (call back to when he asked her out in S1), just let me know. It won’t be a date. Just as friends. Keeley (nodding, equal parts relieved and disappointed): Okay. Roy walks away, they’re in the car park. Keeley calls his name and runs up to him. Kisses his cheek. Obviously there’s still something there, but they’re just gonna have a different start this time. A slow build, rather than an intense start.

Miscellaneous Complaints:

I would’ve added at least another 20 minutes to the finale. How the team reacts to Ted leaving. And I think he should leave, I think he should go back to Kansas and there should be a little time jump. Michelle tells him she knows he’s unfulfilled, Henry saying he misses visiting him in Richmond. This decision is good for literally no one when you actually see it through. It’s a nice gesture but ultimately it’s meaningless.

The way Nate is just there is so unsatisfying to me. He’s such an important character in the show and the finale paid him dust.

What happened with Bex and the other girl when they spoke to Rebecca? There was no resolution there.

BEARD AND JANE ARE NOT COUPLE GOALS. Why does the narrative simultaneously acknowledge that she straight up sucks but never give Beard the push to leave her???? I just straight up do not get it.

In conclusion, I see the vision but the execution was horrible and I don't understand how this is supposed to stick the landing. I genuinely believe they'll announce a Richmond spinoff, especially given Ted's note on Trent's manuscript. Although I do not think that the team's future is anything like the one Ted dreamt about on the plane. Those were the wishes he had for them. I look forward to reading the fics where he's dead wrong and Rebecca drags him back by his moustache hair

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #roykeeley #keeley jones #roy kent #rebecca welton #tedbecca