#Jamie & Roy friendship

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Ted Lasso — A Conversation with Brett Goldstein and Phil Dunster (x)

[walnutmistjamie]

fave Ted Lasso moments 12/? : Tartt’s wearing 24, a nod to his Richmond teammate, the spectacular Sam Obisanya.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

So are you two friends now?

That's wonderful.

[skyshipper]

TED LASSO ROY & JAMIE + THE TYPES OF FRIENDS EVERYONE NEEDS

[annie-bunny-out-there]

Juno Temple, Brett Goldstein, and Phil Dunster all looking so gorgeous at the 29th Critic’s Choice Awards! And funnily enough ONLY Phil was nominated for Ted Lasso. Juno was nominated for her role on Fargo and Brett Goldstein was there as a producer for Shrinking!

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

Roy after Wembley:

[waitingforgoldenhour]

TED LASSO 3X06 "SUNFLOWERS"

[yutaspierced]

Brett wrote this episode so now all I can picture is Brett gleefully typing Phil’s ass being out and Phil reading the scene for the first time like … you’ve got to be kidding me (fond, exasperated, so done with him) cue more Brett giggling

[faramirsonofgondor]

Jamie’s the type of friend who actually tries to pack himself in a suitcase so he can go on trips with you. Or he just genuinely considers kidnapping his friends so they don’t leave. I’m pretty sure half of the team would be happily kidnapped too.

[everyday-is-uncle-day]

Roy realizing …..😳🤯😱🫥🤔

Because he did this …..

Leading to this …..

He has to do this & forever & ever ……

This is his life now. ❤️‍🩹🔈💥❗️

He is the person Jamie will cling to when he’s overwhelmed. The person he can breakdown with. The person that will worry about him nonstop. Not just as his coach, not just as his private extra attention project.

But, as his friend.

And this is BEFORE Roy sees his poster hanging on the wall of Jamie’s childhood bedroom.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[walnutmistjamie]

fave Ted Lasso moments 14/? : Hello Uncle Roy!

[lunar-years]

everyone is always trying to make a very close Ted & Jamie mentorship relationship happen but Ted has much better and more fascinating mentorship relationships with both Roy and Nate. in this essay--

[kay-claire]

I've been rewatching Ted Lasso and I'm on the second last episode, and Keeley x Roy x Jamie are the ultimate OT3

[sighonaraa]

📓!!!!!

*cracks knuckles* buckle up for thee silliest fic idea i have ever had in my entire life.

Roy takes Jamie home. Later, Jamie won't remember how this happened; won't remember leaving the locker room, or changing out of his kit, or buckling the seatbelt, or the drive to Roy's gaff. But he did leave the locker room, and he did change out of his kit, and the seatbelt did get buckled, and he did drive to Roy's gaff. Was driven. By Roy. By Roy fucking Kent. Roy fucking Kent drives Jamie home after what might be the worst night he's ever had, and Jamie doesn't remember shit about it except that it's somehow true. Roy fucking Kent also lets Jamie borrow a spare pair of his pyjamas. In any other circumstance, Jamie would laugh so hard he wouldn't be able to breathe 'round it.

Instead, he tugs the over-long sleeves over his hands as he sits on the couch, staring blankly at the wall opposite, pulse thrumming hard and fast in the hollow of his throat even though the danger's long gone. He can't-- he can't stop imagining the give of his dad's cheek beneath his knuckles, that tipsy, startled backwards stumble. The cold vice of fear surging up his throat like a fucking python, ready to squeeze its prey to death. He shouldn't've-- he shouldn't've-- Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, he's fucked up, he's fucked up more than he's ever fucked up before and he can't-- "I gotta go," Jamie blurts, launching to his feet. Roy's in the room over, cooking something on the stove. Eggs, maybe. The smell of them turns Jamie's stomach. "I--I gotta--" "Jamie," says Roy. The stove clicks off, and then Roy's in the entryway in his socks. Jamie'd been in his socks. He'd been in his socks and he's been in his socks in front of his dad his whole life but this time was different, this time was-- "He's gonna--he's gonna come," Jamie says. Or-- gasps. His lungs ain't working proper-like. His nails dig deep into his palms and he measures an exhale, forcing it to escape him slow and steady. It hurts. "He ain't gonna--he's gonna come and I don't wanna get you in trouble or nothin', so--so I gotta go, just--just let me go, please--" "You're not going fucking anywhere," says Roy. Jamie tenses on instinct, 'cause those words are fucking terrifying on their own, and it's only after a moment in which he turns them over in his mind that he realizes there's nothing to be afraid of, not here. He convinces his shoulders to drop from his ears. "Actually." The shoulders go up to the ears again. Jamie croaks, "Actually?" "You said he's going to come," says Roy. There's some electric note in his voice, an undercurrent of that anger he carries with him wherever he goes. Jamie's heard it directed his way, except-- except this ain't the same. This is the rage of a wild animal caged. "You said he's going to come for you?" "He--" Jamie swallows. He's in his socks again, ain't he. Even through them his feet are cold. "He--" Roy nods. It's decisive, and firm. He's also in his socks. They've got avocados on them. Jamie thinks he might've noticed that already, but it's-- it's hitting him again, and a hysterical cough attempts to claw its way off his tongue and dies halfway there. "Right, then," says Roy. "Then we're leaving." "W-what?" Jamie's ears must not be working no more. His legs barely are; his knees are jelly. His stomach's in knots. Wouldn't be too much of a shock for his ears to start failing him, too. "What-- what d'you mean?" And his ears must be utterly kaput, 'cause the next thing out of Roy's mouth makes less sense than any of the rest of it put together. "You ever been camping, muppet?"

[fanficfanattic]

"I wish you would write a fic where...

You are a great walloped of feelings and I would love to see something that explores platonically the Amsterdam bike training scene- like from Jamie, being able to be the person who gets to teach and help someone else, and from Roy, actually letting his guard down and letting someone help him with something.

Obviously you do not have to if you aren’t feeling it. I also realize that is an incredibly specific ask, so really anything that marches along the platonically walloped feelings path would be amazing. If its for a gift fic

If you feel like this isn’t the one for a gift fic, then consider this just me popping in to say hi buddy! You’re talented! You deserve to have a lovely day!

I didn’t want to wait once I finished it even though this is a holiday gift! To @readwing with love! 💜💜💜 And a special thanks to @jamietarttdodododododo for the cheerleading and reassurance!

Jamie can’t help but remember the first time he was in Amsterdam. His father saying it was time he taught him “how to be a man, Jamie.” And he tries to think about the second time he was there instead, with Mummy, and the both of them doing their best to fill him up with different knowledge instead.

The entire time he’s running with Roy, that’s what he’s doing. Spouting every fact he can think of, letting what they pass inspire another one. And then another one. All he has to do is run and talk about anything distracting.

It doesn’t occur to him that Roy might ask how he knows so much. That he has to answer or Roy will pick at him until he does. For the longest time the only armor he had was being a prick. He’d done so much to remove it for the people he cares about, for his team, for his own benefit.

But here in Amsterdam, where he had both the worst and best trips of his life? The armor comes up easily. He lies, like a prick, and he says it as pricky as he can, and the worrying thing is that Roy doesn’t say anything about it. He doesn’t see through Jamie at all. He doesn’t see Jamie.

Then he realizes that means Roy is distracted. By what, he doesn’t know but he should have clocked that immediately when Roy nabbed him from the team. Roy’s favorite way to work off frustration is by vaguely torturing him.

And Jamie knows that, and he doesn’t mind really. He’s had a lifetime of coaches barking at him. This way, with Roy, has felt like it was actually for a purpose. Most of the time it was making him a better player. But if the purpose is also making Roy feel better? He actively wants that.

Unfortunately, with Prick Mode activated, he doesn’t think twice about howling with laughter at Roy’s admission. Then he hears about his grandfather, and remembers Roy was the only other one who really sacrificed something important at the ghost cleansing, so the guilt sets in.

But now he knows what to do with guilt. He knows how to make amends. And more than that he wants to, of his own accord, rather than feeling like his hand is forced. He wants to make it right with Roy, right for Roy, and show him that it was safe for him to trust Jamie with that pocket of vulnerability.

He decides the best thing would be to honor the memory of Roy’s grandad. If Roy thought not learning was disrespectful, than they could feed two birds with one scone. He’ll teach Roy how to ride this bike, say thanks to a man he’d never met but who’d helped make his best friend into the man he is today, and apologize to the man himself. Okay, so sue him, they’re feeding three birds with the one scone.

Except…except it’s four. Because he finds that teaching Roy to ride a bike does more to distract him from the memories than learning did last time he was here. It pulls his focus and his energy. And it actually makes even more sense when he stops to think about it. Because that’s what Roy has done ever since he started training Jamie. Took everything that made Jamie who he was and directed it right where it needed to go.

Which is why, after he’d successfully avoided it all night, he found himself telling Roy the truth about Amsterdam. Roy told Jamie about his grandfather, so Jamie told Roy about his dad, and Jamie taught Roy to ride a bike…and Roy taught him that it was okay to admit that something bad had happened to him. That even if he doesn’t have the language for it yet…he doesn’t have to hide that it happened.

They were just two friends, riding bikes in the dark, telling each other secrets the way they should have both been able to do when they were actual children. Telling each other things that worried them even though they were unrelated to football. They found a magic castle windmill, and got punchy from staying up past their bedtimes, and though they would deny it only a month later; let down their guards enough to become best friends.