#and like we know jamie was a roy kent fan

[thatscrazyrandom]

Wait I just realised Jamie is probably number 9 because Roy is number 6.

[its-time-to-write]

hello! First thing first, I want to say how much of a good writer you are, I hope you know this 💕 second I have this idea of reader and Jamie dating, but nobody knows. One day reader is in the coaches room and starts yawning and Roy is like what's that 🤨 (something similar to that scene with beard after he gets back with jane) and reader answers with "you have been waking me up everyday at 4 am" or smt like that and this is how everyone finds out. I know you have already written something like this but I thought it was cute, so feel free to ignore

this was cute. you were right.

coffee at midnight

Neither you nor Jamie exactly decided to keep your relationship a secret.

“It’s not a secret, it’s private, babe,” Jamie insists. You just roll your eyes.

But like, it is private.

That means no instagram posts, no public dates, and no unasked opinions. It also means that Jamie gets a Polaroid camera (“so we don’t get hacked, babe,”), plans dates in his giant house, and keeps fans’ noses out of your relationship.

It also, also means that Roy Kent doesn’t know you’re in Jamie’s bed every morning when he knocks on the door loud enough to wake the dead.

You’re a week into these shenanigans, and you’re not sure how much longer you can handle it. You’ve barely been at Nelson Road for an hour, but you’ve yawned more than you’ve spoken. Jamie’s been sending you apologetic looks every time he passes you in the hall, but now the entire team is in the weight room as you bring the coaches their coffee.

You place Roy’s in front of him and he asks, “The fuck’s wrong with you?”

You glare. “Nothing. That’s rude to ask, anyway. I’m-” you pause to yawn- “fine.”

Ted looks between you and Roy. “Normally I’d side with the lady on this one, but you look dead on your feet. You been sleepin’ okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shortly. “I’ve been sleeping fine. I just don’t get a lot of it these days.”

“That sounds decidedly un-sexy,” Trent calls from his desk.

You snarl, “It isn’t,” then realize that Trent is undeserving of your anger. “I’m sorry. I’ve been getting like five hours of sleep every night this whole week. Me and my boyfriend just moved in together and we both talk like way too much. So we usually don’t fall asleep until late.”

The room fills with whistles and hoots from Ted, Beard, and Trent. Roy is stoic as always.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Ted grins. “What’s his name?”

You hesitate. You’re pretty sure Jamie would be okay if you told Ted, but you’re not sure you really want to. You let the silence stretch on for a beat too long, and Trent’s on you like a vulture.

“It’s someone here, isn’t it?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, but it’s not convincing. It’s hard for you to lie when you’re this tired.

Jamie and Sam choose this exact moment to come into the locker room to grab water bottles. Jamie glances at you and you make the mistake of glancing back. It’s just for a second but Trent catches it with his stupid eagle-eyes.

“Oh shit,” he says.

You round on him. Maybe he does deserve your anger. “Don’t say anything,” you warn.

He zips his lips as Roy says, “Why are you being so fucking weird? We know you’re fucking lying. Just say which of these little pricks you’re dating and get some sleep like a fucking normal adult.”

“I’d be able to get regular sleep, except you’ve been waking me up at fucking 4am!” you explode.

The room goes silent. 

“Fuuuck,” Roy whispers. “Fucking Tartt? You’re dating- fuck, you moved in with fucking Tartt?”

“Yes,” you groan, “We’ve been together for six months and it’s probably the most serious relationship I’ve ever been in, and I know how it sounds but we really like each other. Higgins already knows because of HR shit but other than that, it’s been private.”

Ted and Beard have matching open-mouthed smiles. It would be a little scary if you hadn’t known them for as long as you have.

“That’s the most adorable shit I’ve ever heard in my whole life,” Beard says.

“Hold on,” Trent interjects, “does this mean you and Jamie have been staying up late every night talking?”

“Yes,” you reply primly. “And then this prick bangs on our door at fuck-thirty in the morning and I’m awake for the rest of the day.”

Roy says, “Right,” very slowly. “Is that fucking why he wasn’t wearing fucking trousers?”

All eyes turn to you.

“I’m not answering that,” you say. “In fact, I think I hear Higgins calling me. I have to leave right now.” You back out of the room and down the hall before anyone can say anything else.

The coaches’ office is silent for a moment before they all clamor out of their seats to chase you down the hall. They have so many questions but first, they’re going to yell at Higgins for keeping it a secret.

[eatommo]

Coach [r.k.]{kd12}

Dirty talk / breath play

Cw: coach!Roy Kent, coworkers, inappropriate use of coach, lots of kissing, p in v, teasing, swearing, rough sex, mentions of shower sex, implied age gap (though not large), mutual pining

Moving across the world to chase a childhood dream, per request of your brother’s football coach, had been working out so far.

Futbol had always been your passion, you would get up at odd hours to watch your favorite teams, and your favorite player perform, even begging for channel packages so you could watch matches live. So when Coach Lasso offered you a position on his coaching staff for Richmond, the landing place for your favorite grumpy futbol player, you jumped on it.

Ted had an incredible ability to make everyone around him cherish life a little bit more every single day and life in England really did cast a spell on your small town American heart.

Roy, had been full of surprises himself. You and your dad used to bond over his no nonsense attitude, and his passion that was evident in the way he left his entire life on the pitch every single game, even the occasional meltdown.

Meeting him had been difficult at first, but during your first conversation you quickly established yourself as something more than a baseball fan, or as he put it so nonchalantly “a pretty face.”

You always had a crush on him, sure he was a bit older than you but his personality was addicting, and the subtle nuances of his love for the boys didn’t go unnoticed. You once watched him talk Danny through his emotions after a movie night where the team had gathered together to watch When Harry Met Sally. He helped Jamie grow to his full potential, albeit through gritted teeth, but he did it because as shy as he was to admit it, Richmond had become his home.

“Mmmmm.” Roy Grumbled as he walked into the coaches office. You sitting at your desk on the other side of the room from him, his fist clenched as he threw himself into a chair across from you with a grunt.

“What happened this time?” You half expected some Blaise excuse like his car getting dinged by the kitmans bike.

He looked across the desk at you, giving you a small eye roll. Mumbling back at you, he replied. “Players. Don’t show up properly to train. Don’t focus on the exercise, just a pain in my ass really.”

You hum in agreement, “I know, if only we were still allowed to bend them over a desk maybe you could return the favor.” You taunt, with just a hint of warmth in your cheeks, unable to stop the out of pocket phrase.

“If only.” He joked back to you, his grumpy tone now changed to something more lighthearted with a small grin. “I swear sometimes they try to do this stuff on purpose just to mess with me- And what am I even supposed to do with a player who can’t even get their kit on right. Sam had his shirt on backwards, the hell are we supposed to do with that?” He let out a frustrated groan, running his hand through his hair.

You chuckle, “Do you really think they do it on purpose just to fuck with you? I know I enjoy watching you get all grumbly.” Mumble with just a hint of suggestiveness in your voice, but shifting your attention back to the tape you’re cutting into a highlight reel for tomorrow’s practice.

“They better not be doing it on purpose.” He huffed and crossed his arms. “Or I swear I’ll be out there making them do extra drills after their extra drills. I swear if they wanna mess with me they’re really not gonna like my attitude tomorrow.” He leaned forward, and given the threatening tone his voice still never raised at you. He was always respectful of your space, and never would do anything to intimidate you on purpose.

You smile, clearly enjoying the grumpiness of him today, and tease him just a hair further, “Easy old man, I don’t want you to waste all that energy on the boys.” I say in a coy and insinuating to save some for me with a short pause, before continuing “We have a yoga class we can’t miss.”

His eyes widened for a brief moment, surprised by the comment and the tone you used. He could tell your were teasing, but it didn’t stop the thought from popping into his mind about saving energy for you. “Oh shush.” He replied, his tone trying to act as if he was unaffected, but the way his breath went a little faster said otherwise, “I’m looking forward to it.”

You’ve been flirting with each other for weeks, getting along better than most people typically do with Roy at least right off the bat, and the reality of it is you think when Roy is sexy when he���s angry. “Everyone needs an outlet for stress, I like yoga among other things.”

He let out a breath, his arms still crossed as he looked at you across the room. “I swear we’re supposed to be professional.” He mumbled with a bit of a chuckle and rolling his eyes, as he knew both him and you weren’t exactly doing the best job at being professional.

You smile knowingly, “I have reason to believe we wouldn’t be the first ones to break that rule.” I look at him up and down, not trying to hide my intention anymore, watching the veins in his neck strain, longing to make them pop.

He raised an eyebrow, listening to your suggestion. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, and it would definitely relieve some of the frustration he had. He stared at you for a moment, considering the suggestion, before finally speaking. “Are you propositioning me?” He smirked, crossing his arms again with a raised eyebrow, still playing a bit coy, but the twist of his mouth is stuck in place.

You shrug, simply stating, “You know how much I like you, I think we’d have good chemistry off the pitch.”

He chuckled a bit at your words, the idea of ‘relieving stress’ with you becoming even more tempting. He knew that there was chemistry, everyone could tell in the locker room. The way you always seemed to make him laugh and feel lighter, while also managing to send his heart race with your playful teasing. He was tempted, not for the first time. He smirked again and tilted his head to the side. “You think so?” He taunted, his voice low. Leaning just a bit closer to your desk.

You hum again, standing slowly and circling the desk, perching on the edge and getting a close as you’ve ever been to him apart from a few celebratory hugs during matches. “You know what helps me relax?”

He smirked, the sound you made already sending a chill down his spine. He was already sold on the idea, but seeing you move to the front of the desk and letting out that phrase definitely sealed the deal. He walked closer to you slowly, moving around the desk until he was standing in front of you. “Enlighten me.” He said smoothly.

“A nice warm shower…” you reach out slowly, giving him every opportunity to move before you touch his chest gently with a lifted eyebrow in question.

He let out a breath as you reached out, his heart beginning to pound in his chest at the idea of finally getting to do something with you. He watched you closely, eyes following your hand to his chest. He had no intention of moving, wanting to keep this going.

A small smirk appeared on his face as he watched you. “A nice warm shower,” He said, taking another step forward.

He chuckled softly, leaning forward slightly, so he was standing right in front of you. “You are a tease, you know that?” He said in a low tone, his hands going to the edge of the desk on either side of you, caging you against it. “A right little tease.”

Him being so close to you is intoxicating, you can smell the oil he puts in his beard, he smells like sage and sweat. Your breath picking up as the anticipation of his touch draws closer, you look down into his dark brown eyes.

The sight of you enjoying this was almost enough to make him snap. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning across your face. “You like getting this reaction out of me, don’t you? Teasing me, making me want you?” He murmured, voice low and rough.

“Yes,” you pant, your hands twisting in your lap. “I have a feeling you’re rough in all aspects of your life.”

He chuckled breathlessly, his heart pounding even faster as you confirmed his suspicions. God, the thought of the two of you doing other things together was almost enough to make his brain short circuit. He took a moment to regain his focus, trying to respond in a way that wasn’t just a bunch of stutters and breathless words. “Is that right?” He replied softly. “You’re just dying to know the reaction you’d get from me in other situations, ehh?”

I smirk, leaning forward so our lips brush ever so slightly breathless, “So how about that shower?”

The slight brush of lips alone was enough to send a shiver down his spine. God, he was already a mess, and it was all your fault. He could feel the desire and need running through his veins. He let out a short huff, his hands gripping the edge of the desk tighter. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?” He whispered huskily. “Let’s go.”

Your faces meet, coming together in a clash of teeth and hunger, your lips moving against each others in a frenzy.

Roy groaned into the kiss, his hands quickly moving from the desk to grip your hips as your mouths pressed together. He allowed you to dominate the kiss for a moment, letting you lick into his mouth, his eyes closing as he enjoyed it.

After a moment, he began to grow more aggressive, his tongue meeting yours hungrily and his hands pulling you closer against him. You groan eagerly, feeling the tight grip on his hands all over your body. Partially wondering if you’ll even make it off your desk.

He let out another quiet moan as your hands moved to grip his hair, the feeling sending a spark of pleasure through him. He broke the kiss for a moment, only to begin trailing kisses up and down your jawline.

He nipped and sucked the skin, leaving a trail of love bites along the side of your neck. One of his large, rough hands snuck up under the hem of your shirt, wanting to feel your skin.

His hands are calloused and warm, and part of you should care that he’s leaving a trail of marks in the wake of his mouth but if you weren’t lying the idea of wearing these mark, his marks, in front of so many people makes your pussy throb in need.

Roy’s hands come down to your hips, squeezing and pushing more of his body against yours, you can feel the hard outline of his need in his trousers.

Roy runs a hand over your ribs, and you shudder in response. “How much longer is training?” You say, as you throw your head back and begin kicking off your shoes.

“Half hour, then Beard is holding a checkers competition in the team room.” He lifts your shirt up and over your head, “we’ve got your office to ourselves for at least an hour, we’ll have to be quiet to keep the kit man away,” he kisses you again, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra,”You can be a good girl and keep quiet yeah?”

“Yes coach.” You pull away, to free him from his shirt, and pressing your chests together. “Tell me what you wanna do to me.”

“Fucking minx.” He swears fingers finding your nipple and tugging on it harshly, “Filthy fucking thing calling me coach.” His eyes are dark with desire, breath hot and full of desire. “I’m gonna fuck you on this desk.”

His fingers dip into the waistband of your joggers, grabbing fistfuls of your ass as he envelops you with his mouth again. You moan coach, against the press of his mouth.

As you repeat the title, calling him coach again, he groans against your skin. His hips press forward, practically grinding himself against you for a moment to get some much needed friction, a low hiss slipping from his lips. He pulls back, his breath coming out in short huffs as he looks you in the eye.

“Say it again. Keep calling me coach.” He practically growls out. He pushes your paperwork onto the floor, urging you to lay further back onto the desk and to give him space to remove your clothes.

You comply, leaning back and lifting your hips so that he can pull the soft material from your legs. Looking down between your legs he sees a sizable patch of wet fabric clinging to your skin.

“Fucking filthy girl, you want this cunt filled don’t you?” He lets the pad of his thumb tap your clit through the thin cloth of your panties, and your eyes all but roll back into your head.

You nod vigorously, feeling so hot and dazed, knuckles clinging to the edge of your desk. Catching a glimpse of the sizable bulge in his trousers, you reach down to slip your hand around him.

He continues to press a finger to your clit, and takes a hand and twists into your hair tugging from the root. You hiss in pain, squeezing his shaft in response to the pain, “Please coach.”

His resolve breaks, pushing the top of his trousers down just enough to let himself fall free. In a single breath the head of his cock is working you open and his hips saw back and forth stretching you around his size.

Once he’s bottomed out, he pauses for a moment. Taking in the way your mouth is parted in a pant, and the way the muscles in your legs quiver around his waist.

“You said rough yeah? Tell me if you need me to stop.” He said, sober as a saint for a second making sure to establish himself as in control but giving you what you need to feel comfortable.

You nod, biting your lip as he shifts his heels to angle his hips up, he hits something inside you that makes you squeak.

His large palm wraps around your throat, squeezing the artery there and making your brain lull into the field of pleasure he gives you.

[benedictscanvas]

Hi! I’m such a huge fan of your Ted Lasso fics! I completely agree that there’s not enough Roy Kent fics out there. I was wondering if I could request a fic where Roy has feelings for the physiotherapist on the team and she has feelings for him too, and he’s all upset after his final game because he won’t be able to see her anymore and he’s worried she’s upset because he undid all her hard work rehabbing his knee, but it’s all sweet and yearning. I know that’s a lot so if it’s not your thing, absolutely no worries!

i've been meaning to get to this one, because i really like it!! and i just want to thank you for ur support because ur user pops up a lot in my notifs and i appreciate you so much <3 also i've made up roy's injury and keeley is with jamie in this ahaha | 2k words (!!), tw language, hurt/comfort

Roy is barely holding himself together.

He sinks down onto the bench in the dressing room and stares straight away, eyes burning. It's like his whole body is on fire and he knows if he held his hand in front of his face, it would be shaking. He doesn't try it, instead curls his hands into fists, clenching the bench below him.

He's fucked it.

His knee. His career. His life. It had been coming, he knew, but he still expected to have a year or two left in him. Some time to come to terms with his whole world coming crashing down around him. Instead he does one stupid fucking tackle on Jamie fucking Tartt and now he's done. Even the crowd had known it. The thought of them chanting for him brings back a lump in his throat.

He sees a shadow at the door and hangs his head. Knows the outline of you too well to pretend it's anyone else. You've come to shout at him, or slap him around the face, or maybe mock him. Whatever it is, he doesn't want to hear it.

You enter silently other than the door clicking shut behind you, but Roy doesn't look up to greet you. He keeps his eyes on the floor.

"I don't-" he clears his throat when his voice comes out all hoarse. All wrong, "I don't want to hear it. I fucked it, I know, and I don't want to fucking hear it."

You don't respond, instead walking further over to him and crouching down in front of him. He'd waved you away on the pitch, surprised that you'd let him stand up and walk off. He didn't look back at you when he did, knowing all he'd see would be disappointment.

You've got your physio bag, he notices, and you're unzipping it, rifling through the contents.

"There's no point. Get out, Y/N," he tries again, voice more desperate this time, "Please."

"Would you just shut the fuck up?" you say suddenly, louder than the quiet room deserved. You sigh, at yourself it seems, but Roy is frozen in place. He'd prepared himself for you to come and shout at him, but still hadn't expected you to really do it. You never shouted.

Still, he did as he was told, because he was too stunned to argue with you.

You get an icepack on his knee immediately, grumbling under your breath but he can't make out the words. There's some gel that you rub on too, and that eases some of the pain he's in, not that he can bring himself to say thank you. When you've properly secured the icepack to his knee, you finally look up at his face.

"You might have hurt yourself more by refusing that stretcher, you twat," you spit out, and he can see the anxiety swirling across your whole face, "Why do you have to be so..."

You trail off, scoffing to yourself without finishing your sentence as your gaze drops back down to his knee. Roy is tired and in pain and frustrated - all three of which were reasons for not wanting to have this conversation right now.

"Reckless? Fucking stupid? Old as shit? It's just what I fucking am, alright? I couldn't let that shit score, and now it's over. Fucking all of it."

He hears his voice get small towards the end. You're back looking at him and shaking your head before he's even finished.

"For the season, yeah. Then we get back to fucking work, Kent. We can start you on the slow stuff, rebuild the strength. I can assess whether you'll need an op-"

"Y/N."

"Don't," you say harshly, pointing up at him, but there's a break in your voice he doesn't know what to do with, "You're not done."

"We both know that it's my fucking ACL. Two years recovery time, more 'cause I'm fucking ancient. It's over."

He sees the tears in your eyes then. Fuck. One minute he thought you were unbearably angry with him, now you were on the verge of crying? He felt slow in a whole new way, unable to keep up with where this was going.

"You've worked so fucking hard," you grind out, "It can't just...if I'd done more on your knee the last few weeks maybe...We knew it was a problem. I could have-"

It hits him like a freight train when he realises all your anger is directed at yourself. That you're blaming yourself, not him. He gulps, watches you staring off in the direction of Ted's office as your tears fall.

You've worked together ceaselessly this season. He needs a lot of treatment in a lot of areas nowadays, not that he likes to admit it. You've been there every step of the way, poking and prodding and kneading out every knot, but also laughing. Eating the occasional breakfast when he comes in early for you to work on him.

He's not sure he's ever been this into someone before. Where it's crept up on him slowly and then washed over him all at once - about a month ago when Phoebe visited Richmond. Seeing you with her was like seeing some kind of future he never thought he'd have.

He still didn't think he'd have it. This injury was proof enough that good things didn't have a habit of coming his way. It was why he'd kept quiet about it ever since he realised rather than pouring his heart out to you.

"Hey," he says gruffly, completely out of his depth, "You're blaming yourself? I thought you were fucking livid with me."

Your eyes shoot back to his despite their bloodshot nature. Despite the situation, he watches as you giggle in disbelief.

"Angry with you? When has that ever fucking happened?" you say wetly, wiping at your face with rough fingertips, "I'm your physio, Roy, I'm meant to prevent this shit. And fix it. And now I can't fucking do either."

A fresh wave of tears bubbles up over your eyelids and travels down your face as you let out a sob. It's the first time he thinks about another side effect of his career ending - he'll have to leave Richmond. All the people he's come to love, despite really not wanting to. That would include you.

With an instinct he didn't know he had, he reached out to tug on your hand. You looked up at him in surprise, but he helps to pull you up with a small groan when you don't really let him take any of your weight. He guides you to sit next to him on the bench, so you do, sniffling uncontrollably.

"You've done a fucking lot for me these last few years. Especially this season. Don't fucking beat yourself up about this. I'm the one who made the stupid tackle."

"He was through on goal. You stopped him."

"And it might not make a fucking difference."

"It might," you try, crying slowing down as you switch into protective mode. He's seen you do it many times, but it never fails to bring warmth to his face, "Look, if I can't beat myself up, neither can you. Let's just blame the fucking universe, yeah?"

He considers it. Sounds like a good way to vent his frustration without falling into a spiral of self-hatred, but it might also get you to stop crying which is all he wants in the fucking world at this moment.

"Fine. Fuck the universe."

"Fuck the universe," you agree, bumping your shoulder lightly into his own, "Now would you start crying, please, so I'm not the only one embarrassing myself?"

Roy smiles despite himself at that, happy when he turns your way and sees you smiling too.

"I'm going to cry later, in the privacy of my fucking home," he says, wrapping an arm around you because it feels like both the right time and the right place, "Like a normal fucking person."

"Fuck you," you laugh, wiping your chin with the back of your hand. Roy spots a stray tear on your collarbone and reaches to smudge it away without thinking. You shuffle closer to him, his arm still around you, and put your own hand on his thigh.

Roy's brain short-circuits.

"I'll be leaving," he says, sudden even to himself, "Can't fucking stick around if I'm not playing."

"I know," you say softly, tucking your head into his shoulder. He can't let his own head rest against yours, because he knows he'd get too comfortable. Knows he'd never want to move again.

He takes a moment. He knows what he wants to say, he's just not sure he can.

"I don't want to fucking leave," he gets out through gritted teeth, but he's left out the most important word.

You. I don't want to fucking leave you.

It's stuck in his throat as he peers down at the top of your head, still resting on him. He kicks himself inwardly when he can't get the extra word out before you start talking, index finger tracing gentle patterns just above his knee.

"Yeah, I don't want you to fucking leave either," you say, as if you're admitting something terrible. He can tell you're watching the movement of your own hand to avoid looking up at him. "You won't stick around, join the coaching staff?"

"Fuck no," he barks out, feeling you chuckle against his side, "I couldn't do that shit."

"You could," you insist, "But it's okay if you don't want to. I just thought maybe I could look after you if you did."

He tries to move away from you to look at your face with a smirk, but you stay rooted to the spot and stop drawing your patterns on his leg abruptly.

"Your knee! I meant look after your fucking knee, Jesus."

It's now or never. He's so sick of never saying what he fucking means around you, but if he can't do that, he'll settle for the next best thing.

"Do you make house calls?"

It's the worst line he's ever used. But you're here rather than watching the end of the match, and your head is on his shoulder, hand on his thigh. He wonders if maybe, his luck might be balancing out, if maybe you'll understand what he's trying and failing to say.

"Huh?"

He stifles his own chuckle at the confusion in your voice. Willing himself to just fucking do something, he takes your hand from his knee and holds it in his own, clasping on tightly. There's a spike in his heart rate when you grip his hand right back.

"I'm asking-" he begins, hoping you can't hear his heartbeat, "-if you do house calls. To look after my knee, and shit. Once I'm gone."

"Oh."

You've definitely understood his meaning. In past months, he'd be tearing his hair out over trying to read between the lines, probably taking it out on Ted or Jamie or Isaac or whoever was nearby to be shouted at. Now he's positive, as you cling to his hand, that you know what he's trying to say.

Even if he's not sure of your reaction yet, there's already a weight lifted from his chest. And whatever that fucking gel you put on his knee was, he hasn't felt the pain in it since.

"As a club physio, no," you answer slowly, but he knows that's not the end of your sentence, "No house calls. Also no going into the dressing room during a match, no putting numbing cream on an injury just cause you don't want a player in pain, no holding a player's hand."

He's grinning now. Maybe because you can't actually see him doing it, but then he locks in on something you've said amongst the floating feeling that's taken over his body.

"Wait, you put fucking numbing cream on me?"

"You're welcome," you retort, "My point is that I've clearly broken a few rules for you already. So, house calls it is. For the sake of your knee."

He squeezes your hand.

"For the sake of my fucking knee, yeah."

And because it doesn't feel so scary anymore, he puts his head on top of your own and reminds himself that he was going to cry later, not now. For now, with your hand lodged tightly in his own, he decides to think about that future he didn't think he'd ever get, instead.

---

please see this post if you would like to request your own roy/jamie drabble!! closing soon <3

[burnthoneydrops]

Like I Always Do (s.o. x fem!reader)

pairing: sam obisanya x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: language (it's ted lasso), use of 'my girl'

a/n: ahh! first time writing for my favourite boy!! i hope y'all like this and don't mind the fact that i clearly know nothing about football, i'm trying my best!!

“Come on Sam!” You call from your place in the owner’s box, Keeley gripping your hand that wasn’t acting as a megaphone. There’s a few minutes left on the clock and both teams have yet to score a goal. The boys are weaving through each other on the pitch, trying desperately to dodge between the opposing players. It’s just started raining and you mutter a curse to the universe under your breath for England’s reliably shitty weather.

“Oh for God’s sake, we just need one goal!” Rebecca sighs from beside Keeley, readjusting the Richmond beanie that held down her hair. Zoreaux throws the ball from his spot on one end, and Sam’s quick to claim it, bouncing it off his knee before kicking it over to Danny. You’d be lying if you said you knew much about football, but from what you do know, this setup looks pretty damn good. 

“Let’s go Richmond!” Higgins calls from behind you, and you can’t help but smile as this is the most high energy and carefree you’d ever seen this man. 

“Babes, you’re gonna squeeze my hand off,” Keeley comments to you as you had turned your focus back to the game, quickly becoming very concerned with the state of it. 

“Oh sorry,” you apologise, loosening your grip with the intention of letting go entirely, but Keeley weaves her fingers through yours, keeping your hand exactly where it is. 

In quite an elegant move from Danny, he twists his body and kicks his leg over the other, shooting the ball straight to the goal. While you could hear the Richmond fans all collectively take a quick breath, it seems too good to be true. Your fears are unfortunately proven accurate as the opposing goalkeeper sweeps the ball away from the netted end, pushing it back onto the pitch with his gloved hands. The crowd splits into a round of sighs and cheers as they either celebrate or mourn the moment for their team. 

“Fucking shit,” Rebecca curses, fidgeting with the bracelet adorning her left wrist. Isaac makes a call, shouting a combination of words that only makes sense to them and they get in a new formation. Jamie runs to basically lean against the opposing team’s players, no doubt muttering something to get in their heads as the boys get ready behind him. They’re soon off again and you’re eyeing Sam the entire time. He’d been so in his head before this that you knew he was stressing like crazy right now. The game is tense and you know he’s trying his hardest, but that self doubt does unfortunate wonders on someone’s self esteem. 

“You’ve got it Sam!” You cheer again, and this time he hears you, looking up at the owner’s box, giving you a warm but small smile and a thumbs up. 

“You’re not biassed at all, are you?” Keeley teases as she looks between you and Sam. 

“And what if I am? You’re the same way for Mister ‘he’s here, he’s there, he’s every-fucking-where’ Roy Kent,” You shrug with a squeeze to her hand. 

“Never said it was a bad thing babe,” Keeley replies, shaking her head. 

The crowd starts cheering in unison as the ball gets passed back and forth across the pitch. It gets passed to Sam and the goal is somehow left wide open. This seems almost too miraculous, but you try not to doubt and instead focus on the magic that might be about to happen. Sam claims the ball once again and keeps running forward with it, dribbling it past the opposing players. The stadium waits with bated breath and the tension in the crowd could be cut with a knife. With the looming clock ticking down its last seconds, Sam kicks the ball straight toward the goal, swiftly pushing it past the goalkeeper, making the score 1-1. The timer buzzes loudly, signifying the end of the game, and Richmond has done it. They end with the tie they needed and the fans go wild. 

“With a clean goal from Obisanya, the game ends with a tie!” The announcer repeats into his microphone, as the team runs to hug each other. You and Keeley stand up, exploding with joy as you hug each other tightly, Rebecca turning to hug Higgins from behind her. The fans start to storm the pitch, and everyone is quick to exit the owner’s box, wanting to join in on all the fun. Rain be damned, nothing is going to stop you from celebrating. You search the sea of people for your boyfriend, who pushes Jamie off his back when he sees you. 

“Go get your girl mate,” Jamie smiles, patting Sam lovingly on the back before turning to Isaac and celebrating with him. 

“Y/N!” Sam calls, waving his arms to get your attention. Your smile grows as you spot him, running at full speed, though trying not to slip on the damp grass. His arms open as he meets you halfway, catching you as you hurdle into him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. He picks you up lightly, both of you laughing, and spins you around before putting you back down.

“That was fucking amazing!” You praise. “Oh my God, the tension in the crowd was insane but you absolutely fucking killed it!” You tighten your grip on your boyfriend, unable to keep the smile off your face. 

“Hearing you cheer really helped,” he comments as you pull back slightly to look at him. 

“Yeah, might have been a bit aggressive up there. Almost took Keeley’s hand off with how hard I was squeezing”. 

Sam laughs, lightly grabbing the sides of your face and pulling you in for a kiss. The cheers of the fans still on the pitch fade away to background noise as you immediately kiss back, putting all the remaining adrenaline into it. You’re so proud of him and you want him to know it every chance you get. When you two pull away, Sam grabs your hand, twirling you around before settling you back to face him. 

“What was that for?” You ask, a confused look in your eyes. 

“Just wanted to get a good look at you in my number”. It had become custom for you to wear a shirt with Sam’s famous ‘24’ on the back and he loves it every time. 

“My one and only,” you reply, “now come on, this rain is starting to soak through my shoes”. You pull the two of you closer to the exit, but you don’t get too far before Sam’s picking you up and carrying you bridal style across the rest of the pitch. “Sam! Put me down!” You slap his arm lightly before gripping his neck, not wanting to fall. 

“Do not worry, I’ve got you. Like I always do”.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Just Wanna Know You Better

Part of my Birthday Bash!

Request:“Are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes. Is it working?”

Roy Kent x Reader

0.7k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of drinking, Reader is in a 'situationship' with Jamie Tartt (takes place in season 1), pure fluff

You liked Jamie Tartt well enough. He was good-looking, and famous, and rich, and fun. He made the right jokes and took you to the right places. And you knew that, if you let him, he’d do all the right things in bed. All the things that made up a good fling. But that’s all the gorgeous striker was. A fling. You both knew it and, if you were being honest, you were starting to feel that the fling had flung. So, you didn’t mind too much when, during a post-match celebration he invited you to, you spotted him across the club flirting with another woman. She was pretty and looked bubbly and was positively fawning all over him; she’d probably be a late-night call for him for a couple weeks, you guessed. “Alright there?” Roy Kent had joined you at the bar, gazing down at you with furrowed brows and a frown. You smiled at the midfielder and nodded, taking a sip of your drink. “Dandy,” you replied. “Yourself?” He shrugged and let his eyes flicker to Jamie and the blonde. “He’s a prick, you know that, right?” A laugh rumbled in your chest. “He’s fine,” you assured Roy. “We’re nothing serious. In fact, I was thinking it might be time to call it quits.” You ran your fingers through your hair. “We had a couple laughs, he bought me a few excellent dinners, and I got to enjoy some football. All in all, not a bad experience.” Roy’s chuckle echoed in your ears. “I think you’re officially the coolest woman Tartt’s ever gone out with,” he announced, tapping his drink to yours. That strange compliment became a few light-hearted jokes about Jamie, which became chatting about the books you’d read recently, which became you laughing at the story he decided to tell you about his recent trip to the park with his niece. As you and Roy Kent sat at the bar, you found yourself thinking less and less about Jamie Tartt, and more and more about how bummed you were that your brief time as a Greyhounds fan was ending. “I didn’t even ask, did you enjoy the match?” Roy asked as you caught your breath from giggling so much. His eyes were soft and a tiny grin played on his face; not at all the horrible twat Jamie often complained about. “I did,” you answered. “It was great. Probably the best football match I’ve seen in ages.” He nodded towards the corner where Jamie was officially canoodling with the blonde. “You caught his three goals, yeah? Fucking prick is too good and he knows it.” You nudged Roy. “Actually, I was thinking about you stopping that forward that almost scored towards the end. Probably saved the game, Kent.” His smile grew, something that didn’t happen often enough. “I did have a decent night,” he admitted, a touch of bashfulness and humility in his gruff voice. “Maybe because there’s been a gorgeous woman in the stands lately and I wanted to impress her.” The scoff that came out of your mouth was playful as your eyes sparkled at him in the colorful club lights. “Roy Kent, are you trying to flirt with me?” “Yes,” he said, completely matter of fact. He took a casual swig of his beer. “Is it working?” A blush crept up your neck and settled in your cheeks. All you could do was smile at the man who gazed at you with a mixture of teasing and hope, waiting for you to answer. As if he couldn’t already tell the answer by the shy grin on your face. He leaned close. “Listen,” he finally murmured in your ear. “I know you came to see Tartt tonight, but I was wondering…” He cleared his throat. “Maybe next time, you’ll come to see me?” You turned your head to stare at him, with his raised eyebrows and embarrassed grin. And you suddenly knew that you had to talk to Jamie straight away. Not that he would mind. And you also knew that you should definitely keep that Richmond sweater he’d given you; although you might need a different kit with a different name and number on the back. “Yeah, Kent,” you breathed. “Next time I’ll come to see you.”

[itsclydebitches]

I really want to take a moment to appreciate the conversation between Roy and Trent in 3x02, as a part of Ted Lasso's larger commentary on toxic masculinity.

Because these two are classic nerd/jock archetypes, yeah? (At least on the surface. The fact that they're far more complex than that is kinda the whole point.) Roy Kent is the handsome, talented, scariest motherfucker around, able to treat people like shit and still earn the devotion of the fans because he possesses the coveted Sports Skills. Trent, in contrast, is the queer kid who was never able to participate in sports himself, instead needing to turn to writing about them to find that in. As he tells Ted, for him sport is the metaphor and his words, delivered with an "edgy" style that pulls no punches, defend Trent in a way he's never been able to defend himself physically; they gain respect in a field where he'd otherwise be considered a joke. ("Is this a fucking joke?") Plus, given the implied backgrounds and present day characterization, I don't think it's much of a reach to believe that scathing articles like the one Trent wrote contain a certain amount of bitter satisfaction: Roy is "over-hyped," "mediocre," "disappointing," and driven by "rage." If that doesn't sound like a bullied kid finally getting back at all the jocks Roy represents, I don't know what does.

Notably, they repeat a version of this history during Trent's first week at Richmond. He's easily the most anxious we've ever seen him, jumping at loud noises, hands twitching in his pockets, very self-consciously trying to form a connection with the players and failing miserably. Trent is without his armor now - that of a high-profile journalist, safe behind his cutting words - and he's unable to rebuild any given that he's being denied the chance to write his stories. Why is that the case? Because top dog Roy Kent has decreed that no one talk to him. Now, we know based on Roy's characterization and what's revealed later in the episode that this is done out of a desire to protect his players from the abusive press, but outside of that context this looks a lot like the popular kid playing the part of a bully. Trent is the new kid entering class, being clocked as the outsider, briefly welcomed by someone with no prior bias (Dani)... and then that's shut down real fast from Roy. Funny as Ted Lasso is (and I was legitimately cracking up throughout the episode) there's also something extremely disquieting - in a very familiar way - at watching someone go from, "Hi! :D" to "FUCK YOU!" all on the say-so of someone with a lot of authority and social power. This dynamic continues throughout the whole week, with Trent growing more and more on edge until, finally, he just gives in. When Roy starts popping balloons he doesn't stand up for himself and demand that he share their office respectfully, Trent just tries desperately to ignore the bullying - and it is bullying, given that Roy stops popping the moment Trent leaves - and then quietly runs away, acting apologetic as he goes. When the players refuse to discuss strategy with Trent he tries to leave again, defeated, which is a far cry from the doggedly confident reporter who would wait for Jamie after practice. Woven among the humor, Trent is at his most vulnerable here, looking more and more like the victim in a hostile, traditionally masculine space.

Of course, given that this is Ted Lasso, the situation is far more complex than just, "Bullies exist and that's #bad." The locker room scene is initially set up to look that way, in large part because it takes place in a locker room/bathroom. AKA, two spaces where bullying tends to occur unimpeded - and we've already seen that in Ted Lasso back when Nate was the underdog, cowering before the rest of the Richmond team. Roy's control over the group is so complete that no one dares challenge his order to ignore Trent (except, of course, Ted himself. The guy who sparked Roy's growth from the get-go) even though the group is clearly very relieved when the ban is lifted. Roy screams at Trent, making him jump, and orders him into the semi-privacy of the showers. It speaks volumes to me that Ted feels the need to give a reassuring nod and that Trent clearly needed it because, again, outside of the fact that they're both obviously adults now and that on a surface level this moment is meant to make us laugh, this is all very reminiscent of the bully pulling the nerdy kid somewhere where he can hurt him without consequence, all while everyone sits there and watches, not really wanting it to happen, but not willing to stop it either. Everything from the setting, to Trent's defensive body language, to Roy pushing the wallet against his chest in a move reminiscent of the classic shove to start off a beating, all of it heavily implies that kind of bully/victim dynamic.

But, as said, it's not that simple. Because Roy isn't the bully here and Trent, crucially, isn't just the victim. The scene goes on to reveal that Trent is the one who has caused Roy harm, by printing a unnecessarily cruel article when he was just seventeen years old. (A revelation that pairs very nicely with his introduction this season - "Love that" - reminding us that just because Trent approves of others standing up to bullies doesn't mean he's never been one.) That was a decision that "wrecked" a young Roy, to the extent that he kept that quote in his wallet for years, only now reaching a point where he can admit how much that hurt him. Trent's explanation is understandable given his heavily implied backstory. Not that he was trying to build his career, but that he would do so by "seeing the worst in people" and hurting them first before they could hurt him. Roy was right all the way back in Season One, Trent is a colossal prick... but that's likely because others were colossal pricks to him first. Here then, we see that cycle of abuse once more, the same one Nate is currently trapped in. The difference, however, is that when Ted says, 'Your ego is hurting us, Roy' Roy listens and when Roy says, 'You really hurt me, Trent' Trent listens, and the three of them together put a stop to the cycle then and there. Trent apologizes. Roy forgives him. Roy lifts the ban and by the end of the episode they've reached a place where they can speak honestly with one another. Not just about Roy's feelings - which is a HUGE thing for him to make Trent privy to - but about the complexities of Trent's career too. We've already seen that balancing the truth with compassion is fine line for him to walk - as evidenced by him texting Ted, but still publishing his article about the panic attacks; leaving his job, but still sniffing out the Richmond story - but here we get the reversal of that. Trent has already said, 'I'm working on emphasizing the ethics of my profession' and now Roy comes in with 'I'm working to admit that a cruel article isn't necessarily an inaccurate one.' He did play like shit at Chelsea and though Trent didn't need to break the spirit of a seventeen year old, the players do need to come to terms with the fact that they're in a high profile career where everyone is judging their performance (something Ted himself is all too aware of). This is the kind of nuanced understanding that's only possible post-apology/forgiveness, wherein the story has reminded us, 'Victims are capable of becoming bullies themselves and they need to own up to their actions just as much as they deserve an apology themselves.'

All of which is REALLY important for the framing of Nate's arc because he is in Trent's position, poised somewhere between victim and bully. It's obvious the ways in which Nate was a victim of the Richmond team, of his father, and even of the public, but it's significant that he's still a victim even as he now consciously hurts others too. Rebecca had a long speech this episode about how charming Rupert is, how he'll pursue you and in the process make you feel like you're the most important person in the world, someone chosen... and though she was talking about Zava, all I could think about was Nate. He's still being charmed and wooed by Rupert, what with the compliments and the new car, but all of it comes with reminders that he's worthless without that approval (surely a cleaning lady must have parked there...). Rupert is the top dog at the moment, his oh so benevolent popularity extending to Nate, encouraging him to model that behavior in order to keep his interest... but inevitably Rupert will toss him aside, just like he did with Rebecca. He'll become bored and Nate will have to grapple with the fact that, in his effort to avoid being a victim, he became the bully instead, just like Trent had. Rebecca is waiting to help Nate understand the ways in which Rupert can demolish your sense of self-worth. Trent is waiting to help Nate understand how to own up to your mistakes. And of course, there's Ted Lasso in the wings, the American outsider who can offer a much needed, compassionate perspective on the whole of it - as well as some personal insight into panic attacks during interviews. The entirety of the Richmond community, thematically, is being built into a reflection of Nate's struggle; a collection of experiences and wisdom and kind-hearted insight that can help him if (when!) he chooses to accept it.

[ultralightpoe]

Midnight Rain - Jamie Tartt

Authors Note: I have been trying to find any sort of energy to post and get out of bed. Got so close to giving up on life itself and I'm barely back, please bare with me as I try to find my way out of my depression hole I have dug for myself everyone. I know it's been a minute but life has been kicking my ass. Be patient with me - Ultralight

Word Count: 4274

Warnings: slight angst

Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT. (Next Event is Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. Requests closed. Event following yet to be decided)

SOUR EVENT

MAIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy!

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

It was an odd thing, falling for a famous person with everyone watching you both, it felt like every private moment had been laid bare to the world for them to mock and laugh at. There was nothing normal about it. 

But then again there was nothing normal about the way you and Jamie Tartt had met. 

You thought of this as you left the Richmond Stadium, glasses covering your eyes as you did your best to hide your face from the flashes, your bodyguard holding the small of your back as he pushed you forward. 

“Just a few more steps until we are in the car.” He informs, blocking a poster from being shoved into your face. 

By the time you are shoved into the air conditioned car you risk a look back at him, and this is the moment all the paparazzi catch a picture of your tear stained face. 

You wish this had never happened.

“I just don’t understand.” You whine, eyes cast up to the ceiling of the building, swirling in the chair as your manager tapped her pen on the desk in front of you with an unamused expression. “I didn’t do anyth-”

“YOU WERE CAUGHT MAKING OUT WITH YOUR COSTAR!”

“......And?”

“HE WAS MARRIED!” In your defense he had never mentioned his wife and how the hell were you supposed to know? He never wore a ring, he was always in costume and character so it wasn’t like you had talked about his family at all. 

That being said, you felt horrible when you found out, and then your surprised face had been printed onto every magazine and gossip site known to man, which made you look like the homewrecker and him like the lost puppy husband.  What a scuffing tool. 

“So what on earth does this have to do with Jamie Tartt?” You had never heard of him before, not that you were a football fan in general, but you did kind of recognize him from some cheap reality show. 

“He is looking for a change in image, a happy healthy family image.” Your manager explains. 

“So you want me to be his pretty little wife?” You snark, lifting your voice until you're whispering like a 50’s pinup girl and batting your eyelashes at her. “Should I make him dinner every night and kiss him sweetly-”

“How many job offers have you gotten lately?” She snaps, slamming your gossip mags on the desk in front of her. 

She had you there, since he had played victim you had close to no job offers, your image had been destroyed by that pompous man.  

So it seemed Jamie Tartt was your only option. You would play the role of your sweet girl. 

My town was a wasteland

Full of cages, full of fences

Pageant queens and big pretenders

But for some, it was paradise

Your face was printed everywhere by the next morning and Jamie Tartt couldn’t help but try and throw as many of the magazines and papers away during his early morning jog with Roy. 

“The fuck are you doing?” Kent snaps, crossing his arms, his back straight and his eyebrows pinched. 

“I don’t fuckin’ know mate!” Jamie snaps, face bunched up as he panics, the stack of papers in his hands heavier than he thought when he makes eye contact with your photo. You looked so sad he felt his heart shatter. “I jus’ don’ want any of these fucks seein her like this, ya know?”

“Everyone has phones.” His running partner points out and Jamie sighs of disbelief. “Come on, you massive twat.”

With that Roy starts running again and Jamie is forced to drop the magazines in the trash, picking up his speed to catch up with his coach, heart racing against his ribs. 

After this he would call you, maybe try to clear the air. After everything you both went through he was sure you would at least want to talk to him……right?

“So…..I just go to the restaurant…..for the date you set up for me?” Jamie asks, confusion laced in his tone as he stares at his ex girlfriend and now his social media manager. “I just don’t get it Keeley.”

“It’s not something you get, ya?” She smiles, rubbing his shoulders. “Just trust me Jamie, I think she will be good for ya.”

“And she’s interested in me?” There was a small excitement in his chest now, the feeling of being adored always enough to boost his ego. “Then I think I can give this a chance, ya?”

So he did give you a chance, he showed up (late) wearing simple workout gear and asking the host about your reservation. She gives him a disgusted up and down look before side-eying him as she points to a table in the far back. 

You were there, your nose in a book, and not caring about anyone else in the restaurant. And he instantly knows he should have dressed up more, he figured you would be some fangirl and would like him as he is. But now he sees that he looks like a massive twat who showed up late and not dressed up at all. 

“Y/n?” He asks slowly, reaching a hand up to fix his hair subconsciously. Nerves were getting the best of him and when you finally looked up he could not think straight, let alone breathe. It’s like life stopped short. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah? Jamie Tartt I presume?” You ask and he can do nothing but nod. “Why don’t you sit, the paps are going to be here in no time.”

“Paps?” He asks, lunging to sit in front of you, fixing his hair once more. 

“They follow everywhere. I haven’t ordered yet, even though you were late.” 

“Right. Yeah. Thank you for waitin’.”

My boy was a montage

A slow-motion, love potion

Jumping off things in the ocean

I broke his heart 'cause he was nice

He had been one of the sweetest fake dates you’d ever had in your career, and for a couple minutes you wondered if it was a real date, only to laugh it off as a camera flash caught him in the middle of a dramatic retelling. You had to remind yourself that night that it was fake. It was all fake. 

But the kiss you gave him outside the restaurant felt more real than anything else you had felt before, and when you had pulled away your hands were shaking. But he simply smiled and kissed your cheek before disappearing. 

You had exchanged numbers that night, so you wouldn’t have to go through your managers everytime you needed to meet. And that had worked well for the first 2 weeks. 

He had gone from making you laugh at coffee to texting you at 3 am. And though you had a red flag in your mind about the professional boundary you ignored it because why not? If you were forced to fake date someone then why not have fun?

But now you sat in your empty apartment, legs pulled into your chest as you sobbed, wondering why on earth you had crossed the professional boundary. 

Your phone rang somewhere behind you and a part of you wanted to dive to answer it, already knowing it would be him. But you drew the line in the sand, why run to the water to drown yourself now?

So instead you pulled your throw blanket over yourself and let the world wash away. 

“Is there a reason you called me this early?” You laugh, pulling your coat closer around you as you meet him at the side entrance of the Richmond field. “And when will the paps get here?”

“They won’t be.” He looks proud to say that, excitement crossing his face as he reaches for your hand. “I figured you had enough of them so I’ll sneak ya in.”

His hand finds your own and you are filled with the same warmth of the night you kissed him so you follow him without questions. And he seems ten times happier to lead you to the main field. 

“Okay so there are sooo many rules about being on the field, it’s a bit of bad luck yeah? So don’t tell anyone you were here.” He rambles as you look around before pulling out a ball from his backpack. 

“Oh, what on earth is that?”

“It’s a football?” He laughs, throwing it at you which makes you scream and hit it. It bounces off his forehead with a thud that has you gasping. 

“Oh my goodness I am so sorry about th-” But he merely laughs. 

“I said a football not a handball!”

“You mean a volleyball.”

“A what?”

“Why am I here?” You interrupt, leaning to touch his forehead where the ball hit. 

“I was hoping I can teach ya to play.” He blushes when he says it and for a second you are not Y/n L/n international actress, you are Y/n L/n, dumbass in a soccer field. 

So you spend the night running around the field with Jamie as he teaches you tips and tricks of the game, you are sweating and laughing. 

Then he slips and falls harshly and you are a goner, holding your stomach as you fall over him, cackling. 

“You’re a traitor!” He laughs, catching you before you hit the grass and leaning to tickle you. This ends up being a small wrestling match and by the time it’s over you are both laying in the grass, your head on his chest and staring up at the sky. 

“This was fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I am really thankful I picked the call up.” You giggle, looking up to him and before you know it you are leaning up to kiss him. And just as the first time you are left breathless and shaking. Then he smiles at you and there is a red flag once more. But you don’t listen. 

“You wanna come back to my place?”

He was sunshine, I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed like midnight

“I just don’t understand, yeah?” He rants, walking back and forth in the coaches office as all five of the men stare at him with odd expressions. “Like I woulda understood if she just told me it was a public stunt-”

  “Ah, I see your dilemma here young pup-” Ted starts, only to be interrupted by Beard and Higgins howling while Roy and Trent both stay silent. “It seems to me like you had some deep feelings for this girl….like, oo oh come on fellas help me out here-”

“Love is dead.” Roy supplies. 

“Beats me.” Trent shrugs. 

“I’m blanking-” Beard panics. 

“LUKE AND LEIA!” Higgins rushes only for beard and Ted to turn on him slowly. 

“You ever seen those movies, Higgins?” Ted asks slowly, and everyone in the room stops. 

“No….No sir.But I know they kiss.” He smiles and Ted nods. “Watch em and then get back to me.”

“Will do, sir.”

“Will you blokes help me?!” Jamie snaps and they all turn back to him. “She won’t even pick up her fucking phone.”

“Well……” Roy grunts and everyone sits up. 

“Oh boy, Roy is about to open up. Buckle in.” Ted giggles. 

“I think if you truly love the lass then you should be Jamie about it and go do what Jamie does.”

“And what does Jamie do?!”

Weeks and weeks of this, dates at restaurants and secret dates away from the paps that relentlessly followed you, and then he would spend the night with you in your apartment. Which was never a requirement but gee what a bonus because you managed to take his breath away with every kiss. 

One tug and his soul is gone, one bite and he is swearing himself to you. 

But his favorite moments between the two of you were when he was laying in your bed, the sunlight streaming through your curtains as you kissed your way up his back to wake him up. In this room you never had that actress pretense you swore by, in this room you were just Y/n. Queen of his heart. 

“I think it’s time to wake up.” You whisper, nipping at his ear as he smiles. 

“Or we can just sleep in…..” He offers. 

“You have a huge game today, and I have my first session on my new film.” 

“A new film?”

“Yeah! I’m playing the love interest, a bit weird when I have to kiss someone dressed as an alien but who am-”

“So you’ll be kissing someone then?” 

“Well acting…. Just like the sex scene is acting and this relationship is-” You are cut off by the sound of his phone ringing but something in his ears screeches. 

It came like a postcard

Picture perfect, shiny family

Holiday, peppermint candy

But for him it's every day

You were right back where you started, swirling in your manager's chair as she glared at you, only this time you felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest that you couldn’t seem to fill. This entire idea had been a mistake. 

“You are right back where you started, but with ANOTHER SCANDAL!” Your manager shouts, slamming the pen onto the table and reaching to grab the tabloids laid to the side. You didn’t bother to look since you already knew what would be plastered all over them. 

You were now not only known as the woman who cheated on Jamie fucking Tartt but you were the reason the team lost their game. You were bad luck. 

A whore. A homewrecker. A lame actress. A waste of space……. But those were just the things that Jamie had said. The public had many many more things to say about it all. 

Your heart stung at the thought of him, trying your best to erase the image of him as tears sprung in your eyes, picking up your stuff as fast as you can before you storm out. 

You didn’t need to be told what a fuck up this was, you already knew it. 

“So… the other day, when we were lying in bed?” Jamie starts, leaning against the wall of the coffee shop as he stares into your eyes, letting you play with the zipper of his jacket. Your back was pressed to the wall as he covered you from the paps, all that could be seen was your legs and at this moment you couldn’t be more happy. 

You, as much as you hate to admit it, loved hanging out with Jamie when it wasn’t a performance. 

“You mean when you forgot your underwear in a rush to leave?” You tease, enjoying the nervous look that crosses his face. 

“Well, you said something that just…. It made me nervous, yeah?”

“What made you nerv-” 

“JAMIE!” A voice calls, breaking you both out of the small trance that had built up between you, both of you taking a step back from each other. You keep a hand on his chest, his own flies up to keep it there as he smiles at the man who interrupted you both.  “DANNY ROJAS!”

“Oy, keep it down, Mate!” Jamie laughs, pulling you to the man dancing. “Danny this is Y/n, Y/n this is Danny.” 

“Wonderful to meet you-”

“You coming to the game?” Danny asks, face filled with excitement. For a moment you want to say no, there was no need for a public appearance at his game, but then you look to see the hopeful expression on Jamie’s face and you feel yourself smiling. 

“If handsome is okay with me going?” You ask, eyes not leaving Jamie. He gets excited, rushing forward to kiss your cheek. 

“I’ll save you a seat!” 

So I peered through a window

A deep portal, time travel

All the love we unravel

And the life I gave away

Jamie found himself running the next morning, thinking about what fucking Kent had said. “Jamie Tartt would fuck it all up of course.” 

Fuck it up? Roy Kent is saying he would fuck it up? That wanker didn’t know anything at all, and Jamie would never fuck it up. 

But then he finds himself at your doorway, sweaty and nervous as he tries to figure out how the hell he got here. Fuck fuck fuck. 

Just as he goes to dash off the door swings open, revealing your tear streaked face staring right at him. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I have no fucking clue.” He blurts, hands flying up like you are about to swing at him. But you don’t, you merely stare at him as he stares back with a heavy heart. “But I am here…..and I’d love to talk.”

You were thrilled, looking around the stadium with wide eyes as everyone cheered for Jamie. You had seen this man in his element many times, you knew he loved the game but you had never seen him in his element surrounded by his fans. 

This was one heck of a thrill. 

He was cheering with them, and yelling, and honestly just owning the field (or Pitch as the coach had explained). You could do nothing but watch in amazement as the two females beside you cheered them on as well. 

But that’s when things started to go sideways. 

You had just been cheering Jamie on, jumping up in your seat when he made the goal, when you saw your old co-star from the corner of your eye. The pompous asshole that forgot to mention he was married. Within a second of making eye contact he was nodding his head, moving closer to you, mumbling out excuse me’s to book it to you. 

For an instant you think of telling him to piss off, but for some reason you didn’t want the group of people you were sat with to realize that you were a homewrecker, whether you meant to or not that's embarrassing. So you let the panic get the better of you and dash to meet him halfway, tugging on his jacket to drag him up the stairs. 

“What the fuck are you doing-” You start to ask, anger coursing through your veins but when you whirl to glare at him his hands are on your jaw pulling you in for a swift kiss as cameras click in the background. 

In a moment of panic you gasp out, only to swing your hand quickly so slap his face harshly. The sound rings out in the hallway followed by multiple ‘oohs’ as you twist to walk away quickly. 

But the damage had been done already, and twitter was on the jump already. 

'Cause he was sunshine

I was midnight rain

He wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed

Like midnight

You watch him in amazement for a moment, eyebrows raised while you tried to process the words he just said. He stares back for a moment, tilting his head while he waits for your response, but you can’t think of a single thing to say. 

“I think we already said enough,” You start, wrapping your arms around yourself while he shuffles uncomfortably. 

“No, Y/n let’s just-”

“Jamie, just drop it. We both already said what we had to.” You mumble, attempting to close the door before his foot catches in it and he huffs in pain. 

“Just….. Five minutes, that’s all I need.”

“.......Fine,” You sigh, opening the door and letting him in. 

“Um- what the actual fuck?!” Jamie snaps, coming around the corner his phone glued in his hand as he glared at you. “You mind tellin me why the fuck you were lockin’ lips with that wanker?!”

“Wait, it’s not what it looks like-” You start, but he is too mad, sneering at you when you try to reach for him. 

“So you weren’t actin’ like a whore with a man while I was playing my game?!”

“Excuse me?” The feeling of panic vanishes, replaced by another wave of anger as his words settle in. “Coming from the dumbass that was in Love Island?”

“It was Love Conquers All, I’ll have ya know!” He scoffs.

“Not to mention I don’t owe you anything! THIS IS A PR STUNT!” You shout, not caring at the amount of paps that were beginning to swarm. 

“A pr stunt?” He asks, face falling as he looks at you. “You mean to tell me that you have been dating me for-”

“Pr. Yes. This entire thing has been PR. Did you not know that?” That laugh that slips from your lips is bitter,  eyes welling up with tears. Dear god, did no one tell him?

“Right, so this entire time I have been used by a lame ass actress? You been using my fame to get roles? Is that it?”

“More like I have been using you to clean up my image after….”

“RIGHT! Sleeping with a married man-”

“He didn’t tell me he was married!”

“YOU COULD HAVE SEARCHED IT UP! BUT YOU HAD TO BE A HOMEWRECKER!”

“YOU ARE A NATIONAL SOCCER SLUT!”

“IT’S FOOTBALL!”

Rain, he wanted it comfortable

I wanted that pain

He wanted a bride

I was making my own name

Chasing that fame

He stayed the same

All of me changed

Like midnight

You watch him shuffle across your living room, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet as he tried to talk himself up,  breathing out slowly as he turns to face you. 

“I have never been good with this whole….feelin’ thing. But then I met you and for a moment I thought I had it, you know? I thought I was gonna get the life with the girl that loved me because everytime I was near ya my heart started cracking through my fuckin’ ribcage.” He begins, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then you are tellin’ me that it was all fake-”

“It wasn’t all fake.” You whisper and he sucks in a breath. 

“It wasn’t?”

“No, I wouldn’t have slept with you if it was.” You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“I’m sorry for what I said.”

“Me too.”

“I….. I want it to be real.” He admits, taking a step closer. “I know it was all fake……now I do. But I want this.”

“Why?” 

“Because you’re the wind beneath my fucking wings!” He smiles, moving until his hands are on your shoulders. “You make my heart race and you are the only one on this earth that doesn’t seem to mind my massive fuck ups. I fall in front of ya so many times a day, and you’ve seen me flex in a circus mirror and get frustrated and you have seen me-”

“I get it.” You smile. 

“Please, Y/n, just give me a chance back. Let’s make this real.”

“But it might not-”

“We can make it work! If you can learn football then we can make this work.”

You stare at him, and he stares back. For a moment he thinks you are going to say no, and he begins backing up until you nod. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “Okay.”

I guess sometimes we all get

Just what we wanted, just what we wanted

And he never thinks of me

Except when I'm on TV

  From that point on there was a stark difference between the actress you and the real you. Actress you kissed handsome men on screen and ended up in a tabloid once a week, accusing you of vile things. 

Real you, well real you ate gummy worms in bed with your charming husband that loved hearing all the rumors, reading through them and acting them out like a fake fight. You went to all his games, he showed up to all of your premieres. 

Sunshine and rain mixed into a storm of chaos that both of you loved. 

I guess sometimes we all get

Some kind of haunted, some kind of haunted

And I never think of him

Except on midnights like this (midnights like this)

“Are ye ready yet?” He calls, laying on the couch as he watched the screen before him, laughing a bit when he sees Nate the Great slip on camera. 

“No, I am not!” You snap, rushing into the living room in a panic, searching around. He picks his head up to watch you, laughing a little when you trip over the rug. “What are you lookin’ for?”

“My heels!”

“You are wearin heels to a concert you’ll be jumpin around at?”

“They complete the outfit.” You sigh, watching a smile break across his face. 

“No, lovey, your gorgeous tits complete the outfit!”

“OH YOU PIG-” He laughs as you move to throw something at him, dashing to chase you back. You scream out, dashing up the steps to avoid his clutch as he chases you around the house. 

The next morning you both wake up to the headlines “Football star and movie star late for T Swift concert!”

“Is this all they have time for?” He asks, yawning a bit as you laugh. 

“Apparently.”

[saywhatjessie]

Wrap it in a Sigh

Advent Calendar Day 8! (prompts by @raven-cincaide-words) Today’s prompts: Candy Cane Tasting | Shop Assistant | Hugs Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 2.2k[Ao3]

Roy would never understand why they hadn’t done things like this when Ted was still manager. Ted would have loved this shit. Ted would have had the press eating out of his fans.

But no, Ted was in America, and Roy was manager and Keeley had slated him to do a candy cane tasting at a confectionary shop for youtube.

For some fucking reason.

“Cheer up, Royo!” Jamie said, bouncing in his seat. “Look how cute this shop is!” Roy grunted, non committedly. “And,” Jamie continued, holding up his finger in offering. “When we come back with Phoebe you’ll know all the best things for her to try.”

Roy grunted again, more allowing, and Jamie grinned.

On paper, Jamie was here because he was one of Richmond’s top players and certainly a frontman for the franchise. But Roy knew that Keeley had really invited him here because Jamie’s presence was the only way they were getting any half-decent footage out of Roy.

“All right boys, we’re rolling!” Keeley called gripping her sparkly pink clipboard next to the cameraman. “Please say hello and introduce yourselves. Roy first.”

Roy grunted, adjusting himself in his seat and sitting up straighter. He cleared his throat and looked at the camera.

“Hello,” he started, fighting not to wince at how gravelly his voice sounded. “I’m Roy Kent, manager for AFC Richmond.”

“And I’m Jamie Tartt!” Jamie crowed, shooting a finger gun at the camera. “And we’re here at Mr Simm's Olde Sweet Shop to try some candy canes.”

“You didn’t tell them who you are, you muppet.”

“Yeah, I did! I said I’m Jamie Tartt!”

“You’re Jamie Tartt and you play for AFC Richmond.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “Everyone already knows that, Grandad. You could have just said ‘I’m Roy Kent’ if you wanted – everyone knows who you fuckin’ are.”

“No swearing!” Keeley said, behind the camera.

Jamie winced. “Sorry, Keeley, he called to her, turning an incredulous face back to Roy. “How’d I get yelled at for swearing before you?”

Roy grinned, sitting a bit taller. “Well I’m a fucking professional.”

“Roy!”

“Dammit.”

Jamie laughed. 

The shop assistant came into frame, wearing a confectionary white chef’s coat and a candy striped apron.

“Here’s our first round of candy canes,” she said, smiling at Jamie. “These are our traditional flavors.”

“Mint, thanks, love,” Jamie said, winking at her. Roy just nodded his thanks.

“Okay, what have we got here?” Jamie said, spinning the tray toward himself so he could read the labels. “Okay, first off we got classic peppermint.”

Roy grunted, picking it up and licking it. “Yeah. Peppermint. It’s a fucking candy cane.”

“Can’t go long with a classic,” Jamie said, sucking it into his mouth. It released with a small pop. “Weren’t these meant to be Jesus’s shepherd’s crook?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Roy said, snatching Jamie’s candy cane. “I’ve never met the man.”

Jamie laughed, letting Roy take his candy. “For viewers at home, Roy is Jewish.”

“Yeah, and these candy fucks aren’t kosher, so don’t be like me. Be a better Jew and buy from Hammond’s.”

“But everyone else, come here!”

“Right, we’re supposed to be promoting and shit.”

Keeley sighed, off camera. “Roy? Language?”

Roy huffed. “Sorry, Keeley.”

Jamie chuckled, picking up the next candy cane. “Next we’ve got strawberry, I think.”

“Strawberry?” Roy said, picking his up. It was red and white striped like the last one but in two bold stripes instead of the classic double pattern. “That’s a bit summery, innit?”

Jamie hummed. “I feel like we had strawberry tarts on holidays.”

“Well, you’ve always had tarts, Tartt.” Jamie snickered and Roy smirked. “Well, alright.”

He stuck the cane in his mouth, getting a good taste of the flavor before pulling it back out.

“I like it,” Jamie decided. “It’s kind of subtle – not too sweet. It really gives strawberry.”

Roy hummed, appraising the candy cane. “It kind of tastes like a hard Twizzler.”

“Roy!” Jamie laughed. “Be nice, mate.”

“That is nice!” Roy said. “Everybody fucking loves Twizzlers.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, pulling his candy cane back on the tray. Roy took one more spiteful lick before doing the same.

“Sour cherry,” Roy announced, plucking up the next candy cane and unceremoniously shoving it in his mouth. He pulled it away almost instantly, mouth puckered. “Oh, fuck.”

“It’s nice!” Jamie said, taking a moment to swirl his own candy cane around his mouth. “Really flavorful. And it’s smooth, too, not too grainy.”

“What is wrong with you?” Roy marveled. “Who are you enjoying pain?”

Jamie shrugged. “Dunno. But it’s not like it’s new. I spend time with you, don’t I?”

Roy snorted, shaking his head. He took another absent lick of the candy cane before remembering. “Ah, fuck!”

“So stop eating it!” Jamie laughed.

“Fine!” he said, dropping the candy cane back on the tray. “Let’s move on.”

“Well, look here, these look Kent-worthy!” Jamie said, lifting up the next candy cane. “We’ve got black stripes and all!”

Roy rolled his eyes. “That’s not black, it’s clearly umber.”

“You have worn this color before.”

“Yeah, sometimes I like to mix it up!”

Jamie laughed, handing Roy his candy cane. They both sucked on them.

“Oh, that’s quite good,” Roy said, sticking it back in his mouth.

“Cola,” Jamie told him around his own candy cane. “It’s really nice.”

“Can we be done?” Roy asked Keeley. “Can’t we just have these?”

“No, that’s not the video,” she reminded him, patiently. “You have to try all of them. But I’ll get a box of these to take with us.”

Roy frowned and turned to see Jamie pouting, the candy cane still sticking out of his mouth.

He huffed, yanking out Jamie’s candy cane and dropping it to the tray, along with his own.

“Last of the normal ones,” Roy announced, squinting as he read the placard. “Tutti Frutti.”

Jamie barked a surprised laugh. “Sorry, mate, what was that?”

Roy turned to him, saying it again. “Tutti Fruity.”

“One more time?”

“Tuttu fru-oh fuck you!”

Jamie cackled and Keeley shot Roy a reprimanding look. Roy gestured at Jamie like ‘Why aren’t you yelling at him?’ and Keeley rolled her eyes, waving at him to keep going.

He just grunted, because a grunt is not a swear and he couldn’t guarantee he would say anything without swearing, and grabbed the candy cane off the tray.

He stuffed it in his mouth, humming in approval.

“It’s nice,” he said. “My niece would love this one.”

“She would, Jamie agreed, his own candy cane popping out of his mouth. “I like the colors.”

“You would,” Roy snapped. “Your fashion sense is tragic.”

“Pink and green is normal!”

“Yeah, for a candy cane, not a grown man.”

“Homophobia?”

“If anything, my judging your fashion sense is more gay.”

Jamie cackled again and Roy smiled to himself, pleased, before turning back to the camera.

He held up the candy cane. “Good.” He put it down and gestured to the assistant. “Next tray, please.”

The shop assistant – Roy actually looked at her nametag. Grace. –  brought in the next tray, smiling at Jamie and Jamie smiled back. Roy grunted, nodding at her again.

“These are our novelty canes,” she explained. Some are seasonal, some we just break out for guests.”

“Ominous,” Roy said. Jamie hummed, reading over some of the labels. His eyes went wide.

Gracet had started to walk away but Jamie called after her. “Oy, some of these are seasonal!?” He said. “Like you’ve brought some of these back?”

Grace didn’t turn back but Roy caught her laughing as she head into the back room.

Curiously, he looked at the tray.

“Jalapeño?” He asked. “Gravy? What the fuck?”

“Might as well, jump in,” Jamie said, cheerfully handing Roy one of the gravy candy canes. “Sooner we get through these, sooner we can get back to the cola ones.”

Roy grimaced but reluctantly agreed.

The gravy candy canes were weird. The jalepeño ones were actually pretty good, even while Roy fanned his mouth. He was never any good with spice.

Sour cream and onion were next, Roy tilted his head, frowning in contemplation.

“Confusing,” he decided. “But not unpleasant.”

Jamie muttered low enough the mics wouldn’t pick it up. “Title of your sex tape” and Roy shoved him off his chair.

The last of the novelty canes was pickle flavored.

“I’m so conflicted,” Roy said, staring mournfully at the candy cane. “My jewish love of pickles and my human hatred of food abominations are at war.”

“Well, taste it before you decide it’s an abomination.” Jamie said, picking up and sniffing his own candy cane. “You might love it.”

Roy hummed, giving the pickle candy cane a tentative lick.

He hummed again and took a massive bite.

Jamie laughed in surprise. “Coach!”

“It’s pretty good,” Roy said, still chewing. He knew the loud crunching was probably making hell for the sound engineers. “More sugary than dill pickle chips but really not as bad as I was afraid of.”

Jamie was still laughing. 

“You’re insane.” He popped the candy cane in his mouth and his eyes widened as he nodded, consideringly.  “It's not bad, though, yeah.”

Roy hummed, vindicated.

The assistant, Grace, came out one more time with a cloche.

“Ooh, fancy!” Jamie crowed, clapping at the sight of the silver dome. 

“Yeah, we have a grand reveal for you here, but first–”

Grace set down the cloche and reached into her apron pocket, pulling out two more loosely wrapped candy canes.

“This one wasn’t on the tasting menu but we figured you’d get a kick out of it.”

“Ah, thank you, love! How kind,” Jamie said, grinning up at her and accepting the candy cane.

Roy grunted, accepting his own. “Yeah, thanks.”

She just smiled at them, clearly waiting for them to try it.

Roy took a lick and immediately stood up. “No,” he said, reaching to undo his mic. “No. Fuck this.”

Jamie stayed seated but his face was twisted in a truly spectacular way. “Oh, yeah, that’s sour.”

Grace laughed. “It’s our specialty. Black Death, ultra sour.”

“Grace, people died of Black Death!” Roy protested, drinking heavily from his water bottle.

She just laughed again, holding her hands up. “Okay! I’m sorry! I just really wanted to see what you would do.”

Roy growled and Jamie tugged him back into his seat. “Down, boy.”

Roy growled at him, too.

“Well,” Grace said, grinning, her hand going back to the cloche. “To thank you for coming to our shop and supporting our business, we wanted to present you with–” she pulled the top off to reveal red and blue striped candy canes, a thin ribbon of yellow curling around it. “-some specialty Richmond candy canes!”

Jamie gasped. “Wicked!” He picked one up and immediately licked it. “Ooh, it’s lemon!”

“Technically so are the Black Death ones!” Grace said, cheerfully. “Roy, won’t you try one?”

“Fuck no. I don’t trust you anymore.”

Keeley made an unhappy sound but Grave just seemed amused. “That’s alright. We’ve got some packed up for you to take back to the team, as well as a box of the cola ones for each of you.”

Roy nodded at her, accepting this bribe.

“And thank you so much,” Jamie said, reaching over to take her hands. “We really appreciate you having us.”

Roy just grunted again.

Jamie winked at him and turned back to the cameras. “So that’s been a candy cane tasting! Come down to Mr Simm's Olde Sweet Shop all through December to try these… delicious sweets.”

Roy laughed, looking at the camera himself. “From AFC Richmond, I’ve been Roy Kent, he’s been Jamie Tartt, and we’ll see you on the pitch.”

“Cut!” Keeley said, clapping her hands. “Beautiful! Oh, Roy, you do know how to make videos.”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” He rolled his eyes, finally finishing the job of taking his mic off. “Don’t ask me to do another one of these until at least March.

She winked at him. “No promises.”

He sighed.

Keeley wicked Grace away, probably to try and iron out details like how to credit the shop on social media and what tags to use. Roy didn’t care – he did his bit, now he wanted to go home.

He felt Jamie’s hand on his arm, leading him out of the shop. “Come on, Grandad, let’s get out of here.”

Roy grunted, gratefully, and put his hand on Jamie’s back as they left.

He took a deep breath of the wet London air, his face tilted up toward the rain.

“My belly is going to be a horror all evening,” Roy lamented. “Why were there spicy bits?”

Jamie snickered, bringing his arm around Roy’s waist so they were walking in a kind of half-hug. “I think it’ll be the sour cream and onion that’ll be your real problem, babe.”

“Sounds like more of your problem considering my mouth must taste utterly horrific.”

“I ate everything you ate,” Jamie shrugged. “My mouth is probably just as bad. ‘Sthat gonna stop you from kissing me?”

Roy grunted, taking a moment to pull Jamie into an alley.

Because no, it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

[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.

[abubblingcandle]

Augusnippets Day 18 - Protective Caretaker - Ted Lasso

Jamie finds himself in hospital yet again and Keeley and Roy find out through a secondary source. Neither of them were called as Jamie's emergency contacts. So if it wasn't them ... then who was it?

Here on AO3 @augusnippets

Jamie was in hospital. Again. According to Jamie he had been helping out a neighbour and had fallen off a stepladder rescuing a kitten. Roy had no reason to not believe that tale of events but he just didn’t. Also according to Jamie, he was fine and didn’t need the ambulance that Shannon had called. Now that he absolutely didn't believe. "Why were we not called?" Keeley growled in a great Roy Kent impression at the poor doctor that choose that moment to come check on Jamie. 

"Keeley come off," Jamie groaned, arm drapped over his eyes. 

"No! I am his emergency contact and I should have been called as soon as he was admitted," Keeley continued to vent. 

"There's nothing wrong with me they didn't need to call," Jamie's groans turning more and more into whines. 

"Well there if it isn't our little bruised banana," Ted announced himself bursting into the room with Beard on his heels. 

"What are you fuckers doing here?" Roy frowned. 

"That's what I was trying to tell you. Mr Tartt here is at risk of a concussion from his fall and so needs to leave with someone to supervise him," the doctor interrupted the posturing contest. 

"Oo I'm very good at those. I have different voices to keep it fresh," Ted pointed at the doctor then Jamie who looked like he was in his own personal hell. 

"Which is why we called Jamie's emergency contact ..."

"Which is me." Everyone slowly turned to look at Beard with a varied tableau of surprise. “Imagine how I felt.”

The doctor fled with the promise of a prescription and discharge forms leaving them to try and work all this out.

“Jamie? What’s going on?” Keeley was immediately there, squatting down at Jamie’s bedside with a comforting hand on his hip rubbing little circles.

“Just tired,” Jamie groaned. “Can I go home?”

“We need to wait for the doctors with your prescription. So we can have this conversation now. Why the fuck were none of us called and Beard was?” Roy growled.

“Roy,” Keeley scolded, but Roy could tell her heart wasn’t in it and she wanted to know as well.

“I’m fine it’s just some bruising,” Jamie muttered.

“That wasn’t the question Tartt!”

“This is why,” Jamie shouted, wincing as he jostled the bruises on his cheek. “I knew that even the most minor of injuries you lot would be all up in my business and making it a problem and a big deal. I ain’t that badly hurt. I’ve been hurt way fucking worse. I just need to go home and sleep,” he vented, pointing between Roy, Keeley and Ted.

“So why Beard?” Ted asked quietly, the only one out of the three that did look somewhat scolded.

“I needed someone in Richmond that I could trust would come but wouldn’t care that I was hurt and would sign the discharge papers. None of you lot would have done that,” that one moment of heat seemed to be rapidly fading out of Jamie. Roy didn’t know if it was the pain of his injuries taking over or regret at this bullshit scheme.

“Of course we fucking wouldn’t you idiot,” Roy shouted back.

“Really not the time Roy,” Keeley sighed.

“And you thought I would,” Beard’s calm steady voice dragged them all back on track as he stepped forward to be at the foot of Jamie’s bed. He reached out and grabbed onto the plastic hand holds. It was near impossible to read Beard’s emotions on the best of days but now he was locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

“You’ve never been my biggest fan have you?” Jamie muttered, eyes locked onto Beard almost challenging him to disagree. “When I’m hurt it’s always an inconvenience, a problem you know. I didn’t want to be a hassle to people who actually care about me. I know I’m a lot so I put down someone who wouldn’t make this a big fuss about it. But now we’re all making this big fuss about it,” he sighed, resigned to his fate. Good, because they were not letting him slip away to go lick his wounds in private. That was never going to happen again.

“I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way,” Beard broke the silence, causing all the eyes in the room to lock onto him in varying degrees of surprise. “I didn’t like you at first but I don’t think anyone did …”

“I mean …”

“Don’t lie Ted he was a fucking prick.”

“Thanks grandad, really smashing the making me feel better bit.”

“As I was saying,” Beard continued through the veiled threats, “however I did think that our relationship was improving and so am sorry you didn’t also see that.”

The surprised eyes then turned to Jamie like they were watching emotional tennis. All Jamie did was shrug, curling up into himself as much as he could despite being all one big bruise.

The doctor saved them from these emotional reveals going on for much longer. “His prescription can be filled at any pharmacy but I recommend the one downstairs on your way out. He needs to be regularly checked to make sure cognitive function doesn’t deteriorate …”

“I don’t think there’ll be anything left if his brain withers any further,” Roy mutters and grins when Jamie flips him off.

“… and rest is the best mediciene for the bruises,” he finished holding out the discharge forms to the room in general. Roy went to grab them but Beard snatched them out of the doctor’s hand before he could.

“I’m his emergency contact,” Beard stated, already signing it.

“Coach you really don’t …”

“I’m your emergency contact, you’re coming home with me,” Beard’s tone left no room for argument. And Jamie didn’t, he just looked bashfully down at the bedsheets. Roy and Keeley looked at each other and shrugged. Looks like Jamie was going home with Beard … that was not going to end well.

[meatmensch]

Music I think Roy Kent likes and why

Madonna. In season 3, episode 3, Roy said, "[Pre-Madonna] means before Madonna, female vocalists didn't have to work that hard." This implies a great respect for Madonna and her craft. Also, it's an example of a very specific kind of queer guy misogyny that I find very humorous and implicative (of him being queer).

The Sex Pistols (and other punk rock). Two of their songs are in the Ted Lasso soundtrack. One of them specifically plays when Roy is about to do some pundit work for the first time. I think it's meant to be his hype up music. They're also, of course, anti-fascist and anti-monarchy, which I think Roy would vibe with. He's giving punk.

The music of the Muppets. Canonically (not that I necessarily consider this kind of thing canon, lol) a Muppets fan, I think he'd love the soundtracks to the movies, as well as the numbers they do on the original show.

Rap; Salt-n-Pepa, Queen Latifah, and Beyoncé. I just think he would like them. In season 1, episode 6, Keeley mentions that he has rapped, implying at least some interest in the genre.

Leonard Cohen. I think Roy's Jewish, and he's a broody, sensual bitch. It adds up perfectly. Sidenote: while "She's a Rainbow" by the Rolling Stones was a great choice for the song he runs home to football to, I think Cohen's "Ain't No Cure for Love" would've fucking slayyyed..."I loved you for a long, long time / I know this love is real / It don't matter how it all went wrong / That don't change the way I feel / And I can't believe that time is gonna heal / This wound that I'm speaking of" "I've got you like a habit / And I'll never get enough" "I don't need to be forgiven / For loving you so much"

Klezmer. Again, if Roy is Jewish, and we know he loves and misses his grandad...it's simple. He HAS a record player and a dope sound system, and on his shelves there ARE old klezmer records that he remembers dancing around to with his grandad in their old flat.

Amy Winehouse. Again, if Roy is Jewish, and we know he is broody and bitchy, it is a given. "Rehab" is his anthem when his knee gets bad and he is reluctant to treat it.

Disco; Donna Summer and Jessie Ware. It's just great workout music, and it slays, and if he's queer, well, yes, of course he likes disco.

Pop rock; Elton John and Queen. If he's queer...it's a given. I think he particularly likes "I Think I'm Going to Kill Myself" and "Rocket Man", as he is suicidal (I can't find the interview where Goldstein said this) (it's just Word of God anyway), and the most rocket man motherfucker ever.

The music of the people he loves; Led Zeppelin, Cream, Tina Turner, and Stevie Nicks. Phoebe, Keeley, and Jamie like these musicians. He's a caring uncle, boyfriend, and friend. He is listening and learning. Also, I think Phoebe would be into some weird stuff, like outsider music - maybe some Tiny Tim. I think Roy would also enjoy the music of other friends, from plenty of other genres.

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 7

y’all I am SO SORRY this is so late. I’ve been caught up with end-of-year stuff at work and planning for next year. but I’m posting the last two chapters now🙃

I’m not sure how active I’ll be moving forward lol, 2025 is shaping up to be a pretty big year for me, professionally speaking, and that either means I’ll have more free time or less. Idk. But thank you for supporting my writing!!! You guys make me happy🩵🩵🩵

table of contents

found god at your ex’s house

To be entirely honest, the longest and only conversation you’ve ever had with goddamn Keeley Jones was at the Prada show right before you found out about Bean’s existence. 

You’d prefer to keep it that way but fucking Madeline is friends with her so now you’re headed to a stupid, awful, horrible girls’ night at her house and you’d rather fucking die.

Okay, maybe that’s a little dramatic. But your experiences concerning Keeley have been unpleasant at best. 

She first caught your notice in a tabloid on a yacht with Jamie and a screaming headline to match your screaming mind. It was two weeks after Jamie came over for the last time and apparently not enough time to get over him.

You’d gone straight to Madeline’s to scream into a pillow.

Then she was in your instagram, and when you had blocked her she appeared in fan edits and fucking WAG accounts. Then she was at the Prada show and in magazines and on the telly. It felt like no matter how much you tried to shut her out, Keeley fucking Jones remained as a painful reminder.

It wasn’t her fault per se, but you hated the role she played in Jamie’s deterioration. 

And now Madeline is fucking friends with her.

“What the actual hell, Madeline,” you groan. “Keeley fucking Jones? Are you serious? She’s the fucking worst. AND she’s not to be trusted! The girl hardly has two braincells to rub together.”

Madeline rolls her eyes. “I understand that you hate her. But she’s kind and sweet and actually a bit brilliant. I’m not going to tell her about you or Bean, but she’s not some vile, boyfriend-stealing bitch.”

“I’m not saying that,” you reply as you try to get Clare to burp. “I’m just saying that the girl could stand to grow up a little.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She has. I think you’d like her.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff right as Clare burps. “See? Clare agrees.”

Madeline shrugs. “Clare is three months old. She doesn’t get a vote.”

You wrinkle your nose and say, “You mean unless she agrees with you, right?” and Madeline smiles her most angelic smile. 

“All I’m saying is you’re more than welcome to come with me tonight.”

“I’d rather die,” you inform her.

—

Jamie has the day off. They won against Aston Villa on Sunday so he’s supposed to be resting, but he’s never been very good at that.

So he does what any self-respecting person would do and goes to his ex’s house.

He forgets Roy fucking Kent is going to be there until the man himself has opened the door but Jamie musters up some arrogance and breezes right by him. Keeley knows he’s coming anyway, so he’s not going to be harassed by some grumpy old twat.

Roy must be sick or something because he doesn’t say anything. If Jamie weren’t so consumed with his own worries he might actually be concerned.

But he’s not so he sits on Keeley’s couch like he belongs there and lets her hand him a cup of tea before she sits down next to him.

Roy isn’t far off, pretending to read a book but Jamie is abso-fucking-lutely positive he hasn’t turned a single page yet.

But absolutely FUCK it because he needs Keeley’s professional, girl opinion.

“I’ve got a kid,” he says, and both Keeley and Roy do absolutely horrible jobs at pretending they’re shocked.

“Fuck off, how the fuck did you know?” he protests. “Was it Ted?”

Roy and Keeley exchange a Look and it just makes Jamie madder.

“Technically it was Coach Beard,” Keeley says in a mousy voice. “We figured you’d tell us when you were ready, Jamie.”

That’s just confusing. “How the fuck did Beard know?” he asks.

“Kid looks just fucking like you,” Roy says and that makes Jamie mad too because when the fuck did Roy see Clare?

“I saw them on the green when I was with Phoebe,” Roy clarifies and Jamie takes a minute to file that away as Roy Kent’s first-ever non-swearing sentence.

He says, “fucking hell,” because really, fucking hell. He went from not knowing he had a baby to knowing to apparently the whole Richmond coaching staff knowing (and apparently meeting) her.

Keeley asks, “Is that why you’re here, babes?” and her gentle voice actually makes him want to fucking cry so he just nods and puts his head in his hands.

“Don’t know shit about being a dad,” he says, voice muffled, and Roy slams his book shut because apparently he has shit to say.

“Fuck off, Tartt,” he says. “Stop being a little bitch.”

Keeley exclaims, “Roy!” but she’s also curious about what he has to say because she doesn’t do anything else to stop him.

“I fucking mean it,” he continues. “You fucking come here expecting to fucking cry on the couch and be told you’re fucking shit at something and throw a fucking pity party, so fuck off. You might be a shit father, you don’t fucking know, but that girl doesn’t fucking think so and if I were her, I’d hate your fucking guts. So untwist your fucking pants and stop being a fucking whiny little bitch. Go fucking be a dad and if you’re shit, you’re shit. But stop looking for fucking sympathy for something you’ve made up in your stupid fucking twat brain.”

With that he pushes himself out of his chair, swears at his knee, and disappears into the kitchen, presumably to remain silent for the next year since he’s met his word quota.

Jamie looks at Keeley as if to say, Are you hearing this prick? but Keeley just lifts a shoulder and says, “He’s right, babe. You’ve got to actually go do something about it.”

So Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose and recounts everything his mum told him over the phone for some extra review.

—

Clare is easy, as far as babies go, but for some reason tonight she’s decided to be an absolute terror. She won’t eat, won’t go to sleep, won’t calm down. She just cries and cries and no matter how many times you check her temperature or her diaper, she cannot get it back together.

It doesn’t help that you’re tired, either. Like, newborn-level tired. And hungry, too. You’d order in but Clare hasn’t even allowed that so you open the fridge as best you can while bouncing Clare up and down. All you can see is a jar of gherkins, a can of soda, and some lemons. 

And a fucking banana which must be Madeline’s because you’d rather die of starvation than eat that shit.

Fucking hell.

I am not going to cry you tell yourself sternly, except that doesn’t do anything except allow tears to well up faster than if you’d just let it alone.

You can’t call Madeline because she’s at Keeley’s and you’ll be damned if you interrupt her girls’ night. Madeline didn’t sign up to be tied down and she deserves a non-parent friend, so she’s not an option.

For a split second, you debate calling Jamie. But that’s a level of desperation you haven’t quite reached. You close the fridge and are saved from deciding what to do next by a knock on the door.

Clare wails like she’s being murdered, so you hope it isn’t the police but it isn’t, it’s just Jamie with a bag of groceries. He’s in the house setting up in the kitchen before your brain catches up with your eyes and Clare just cries the whole time. 

You know exactly what he’s making before he’s even pulled out half the ingredients. It’s chicken pesto risotto, the dish you always begged him to make whenever he had a moment of free time. Jamie can cook maybe four things in total, but damn he can cook them well. He slices some bread, puts it on a plate with some butter and hands it to you, swapping the plate for Clare so easily that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’s been doing it his whole life. She stops crying the moment she’s in his arms and honestly, you’re too tired to worry about it. You crash on the couch and fall asleep after two bites.

It’s dark out when you wake up, but the lights are on in the house and it’s warm. Someone’s gently caressing the top of your head and saying your name, so you open your eyes to Jamie standing over you.

He’s looking at you with a soft expression, and your heart aches. It all feels too painfully normal.

He says, “Food’s ready,” and holds out a hand for you to grab.

You hesitate for the barest fraction of a moment before taking it. “Little Bean’s asleep in her bed,” he continues. “You hungry? Figured we could eat then you can go back to sleep.”

You nod. “Smells good, J. Are you planning on spending the night, then?”

Jamie shrugs. “I thought- I don’t know, I thought maybe you could use a break.”

He sits next to you at the table. The food’s been set out, and it’s still warm. It’s also the first meal you haven’t been responsible for in a good long while.

“So you’re just here now,” you say. “You’re the kind of person who shows up, cooks dinner, puts the baby to bed and watches telly in the evenings? You could barely handle a relationship, and now you want a fucking family? You can leave me all you want, but I swear to God, Jamie, I will murder you if you hurt Clare.”

It’s frustrating because it feels like you’re at an impasse. Jamie can come back once he’s shown he’s changed, but he can’t really show he’s changed if he can’t fucking come back, can he?

It doesn’t matter that he probably has changed and you know deep down that even he isn’t a big enough dick to abandon his daughter.

Jamie says, “I am. I mean, I won’t. I mean, fucking hell, you don’t have to fucking murder me, yeah? Just give me a chance, like.”

You snort. “Do you even know how to change a diaper?”

Jamie says, “Googled it, didn’t I?” and that makes you genuinely laugh. Of course he did. But you laugh too loud and it wakes up Clare, who lets you know she’s irritated with a shriek. You knock your head lightly against the table and whisper, “Fuck,” before putting down your fork. You push your chair out and Jamie stands, lightning-fast.

“I got it,” he tells you, and you raise an eyebrow.

You reply, “Okay,” because if he’s going to act like a father, he’s going to have to put in the work. And you’re hungry and this is your favorite meal. Besides, what’s the worst that’s going to happen?

So Jamie goes to Clare’s room where she’s sobbing like there’s no tomorrow and you continue to eat while straining your ears to make sure Jamie isn’t panicking.

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for the fact that the worst thing that could happen is Jamie comes back out after ten minutes with a sleeping Clare on his chest and he looks so fucking hot that you want to jump his bones then and there. 

Jamie is thankfully oblivious. He sits back down and pats Clare on the back so she doesn’t wake up again.

“How’s the food?” he whispers. “Haven’t cooked in fuckin’ ages.”

“Good,” you whisper back and then you lapse into silence. 

 “I can stay the night, if you want,” Jamie offers after a bit, and you glare.

“Not like that,” he hastily amends, “I mean if you want to sleep. I can feed Clare and whatever.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Jamie. What the fuck do you want from me? You can’t fucking come back here and play house when you want, and I get it, your dad’s a piece of shit and you don’t want to be like him. But you’re in the fucking Prem, Jamie.”

(“Got relegated,”) he mouths, but you just keep talking. “Fine. You’re in the Championship but everyone knows you at least are making it back to the Premier League and someday you’ll be with a team in the Champion’s League and that’s a lot of travel. It’s a lot of nights alone, and you’re not exactly the kind of person who likes sleeping alone.

Jamie looks offended at that, but it’s true. He’s twenty-six and in his prime.

This whole thing is just one giant circle with no solution. 

“Oi,” he says, and he’s got his serious expression on. “I don’t want anything from you. I want you. Not even because of Clare, but she’s mint. I was coming to find you the other night because I wanted to fix things. I told you that. I meant it, I want to get back together. I know I’m hard to love sometimes but swear down, I want to make it work. Keeley’s on me about commitment and shit and I dunno, it sounds nice. I’m fucking tired of fucking around. That shit’s exhausting.”

“Yeah, because a baby and a girlfriend isn’t fucking exhausting as well.”

Jamie wrinkles his nose. “Fucking Garnacho’s having a kid. If that little shit can handle it, I can too.”

You concede. He has a point. “Fine. You can spend the night. I’m going to shower and then pass out, which means you’ve got the dishes and Clare. You can sleep in the guest room, yeah? I’ll set up the baby monitor.”

Jamie smiles, and before you can really think it through, you lean over to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” you say softly before heading upstairs. You’re going to get an earful from Madeline later, but for now you’re going to get good sleep for the first night in a long while.

next chapter

[bbymunsonx]

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Eight

chapter warnings: language, talk about abuse

word count: 2.2k

Ted's been exceptionally quiet since him and his wife separated, which is completely understandable. It's been a few days and we've only said a couple words to each other. He wasn't being rude or anything, just sad.  

I would love to do nothing more than to comfort him, even in a purely platonic way. I just wanted him to know he wasn't alone, but I could never find a good time to approach him. 

I was sitting in Rebecca's office as Rebecca, Keeley and I discussed all the men in our lives. 

"Have you guys seen the articles? What kind of fucking bullshit is "Old Rebecca?" Rebecca exclaimed. Rebecca's ex-husband, Rupert, started dating another woman named Rebecca. Since she's about forty years younger than Rupert, the press has been having a field day with calling our Rebecca, "old Rebecca". It's a bunch of misogynistic bullshit. God forbid the press ever call Rupert out for the asshole that he is. They always just blame the woman.

"Exactly what you said. Fucking bullshit." Keeley reached over and held Rebecca's hand, and I put my hand on top of hers.

"Richmond ladies have to stick together." I rubbed their hand with my thumb as I smiled. 

"Alright, enough about me, what is it I hear about you shagging Roy Kent?" Rebecca excitedly said. 

"We've only shagged a few times. And he's bloody good at it." Keeley blushed. 

Rebecca and I both let out high pitched ooo's at the same time. 

"Well, did Lacy tell you who she was pining over?" Keeley said while giggling. 

"Keeley!" I yelled.

"Well, who is it?" Rebecca was beyond intrigued. 

"You can't tell anyone," I began before someone knocked on the door, and in entered Ted. Right on queue. 

"Good morning, Boss," I exclaimed while handing her a box of biscuits. "Keeley. Lacy." 

"Hi, Ted." Keeley waved. 

"Thank you, Ted." Rebecca said as she took the biscuits. "Is everything all set for our new player?"

"Yes, ma'am. Mr. Rojas is going to be very pleased." Ted smiled. 

"That's what I like to hear." Rebecca replied. I've done a lot of research about Dani Rojas the past few days and he seems like a golden retriever dressed up as a man. The other players are going to eat him alive. 

"Lace, did you wanna come down and help us welcome him?" Ted looked over at me. 

"Yes, of course. I'll meet you down there in a minute." I smiled. 

"Alrighty, I'll see you ladies later," Ted waved goodbye as Rebecca and Keeley said their goodbyes. My eyes were following Ted as he was leaving when Rebecca gasped. 

"Holy shit! You're in love with Ted!" She pointed at me. 

I scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"Keeley, did you see the way she was looking at him? She's either clearly in love with him or just wants to fuck him."

"Or both." Keeley whispered. 

"Okay, goodbye," I laughed as I got up to leave. 

"See! She didn't say no!" Rebecca yelled as I was leaving. 

I walked out to the pitch to meet Ted and Beard on the sidelines as they were waiting for Dani to come. After a few minutes of waiting we hear someone come running out behind us screaming. That must be Dani. 

Out runs Dani, enthusiastic and energetic, exactly what I was expecting from all the articles I read. 

"Boys, meet Dani Rojas. Dani, welcome to Richmond," Ted greeted Dani, who was still jogging in place from all the energy. Jamie was automatically on guard around Dani, fearing that his spot on the team may be jeopardized. 

As the boys were training, Ted had gotten a phone call from Henry. Henry was super excited to see a new player on the team. He loved learning about all the players. 

"Alright, buddy, I will. I love you too. Bye-bye," Ted said on the phone before hanging up and looking over at me. "Henry says hello and that he misses you. Seems like you have your first fan."

I laughed out loud. "What can I say? The boy has good taste. Soon others will begin to follow." Ted laughed in response. 

After watching the boys train for a little, I went back into my office and make a post on the teams social media pages officially welcoming Dani to the team. As I was reading through the comments, Ted comes barging into my office. 

"We may have a slight issue," He groaned. 

"What happened?" I immediately jumped up. 

"He's hurt."

"Who's hurt, Ted?" My tone was a little annoyed. 

"Dani."

"How the fuck did he get hurt? He just got here." I was so confused. 

"Roy had told me that he saw him working out in the treatment room this morning before training. Apparently, in all the time we've been here, they've all failed to mention the treatment room was cursed." Ted explained. 

"What do you mean cursed?"

"Roy said that anytime someone trains in the treatment room, they always end up injured." Ted continued. 

"Oh, that's great." I threw my hands up in the air. I was a very spiritual person, so the thought of a curse wasn't outlandish to me. "What are we gonna do?"

"I was thinking late tonight, we all meet back here and do a ritual, something to bond the team together. I'm telling everyone to bring someone that means a lot to them to sacrifice for the sake of the team. Since you're a part of the team, I'm hoping you'll participate. Maybe get Rebecca and Keeley to come down too."

"Yeah, Teddy, of course I'll be there." I smiled. I realized this was the first time I called him Teddy in a while. 

"That'll mean a lot to the boys. Meet Beard and I outside of the flats at nine and we'll head over." Ted said before walking away. That'll mean a lot to the boys, but not to him? 

***

It was exactly nine when I exited my flat and met Beard and Ted out front of my flat. They both had something in brown bags that they were going to sacrifice. They wouldn't tell me what they were bringing so I'm going to keep my item a secret, too. 

We met all the other players in the locker room. Even Rebecca, Keeley, and Higgins showed up. Ted began to talk to everyone, "Thank you all for coming tonight. Not only are we breaking the curse, but we are also bonding as a team. See this here trashcan? One by one, we are going to put our items in the trashcan and then set it on fire, thus breaking the curse. My mom always told me not to set things on fire but I think Mama Lasso will let this slide one time." 

Everyone started to put items into a trashcan. Roy put in his childhood blanket, Higgins put in his recently deceased cats collar, Jamie put in a pair of football boots that his mom gave him, and Rebecca put in the newspaper that called her "Old Rebecca".

It was Ted's turn, so he walked up to the trash can and opened his paper bag. "For my sacrifice, I'm putting in my wedding ring. As most of you know, my wife, or I guess ex-wife, are getting a divorce. I'm so grateful for the time we had together, but I'm also grateful for the opportunity to grow in the future." After he said that, he threw his ring in the trash. I rubbed his shoulder, consoling him because I knew that must've been really hard for him. 

Lastly, it was my turn. 

"For my sacrifice, I'm gonna put in this framed picture of my ex-boyfriend and I. I honestly think it's quite embarrassing that I brought this anyway. But I think I always latched onto our relationship, even when I knew it was over. He- he didn't treat me well. That's why I came here. For the fresh start. I love all you guys and I am just, really excited for a new beginning." I sadly smiled as I placed the picture in the trash. 

I looked around me and all the boys looked like they were all on the verge of tears. They all came around me and engulfed me in a group hug. Ted and Roy were both latched onto me the tightest. 

"Alright, alright. Let's just burn this shit." I laughed so I didn't cry. I only knew these guys for a couple months and I truly had so much love for them. 

We dragged the trash can outside and set it ablaze. We all stood around the trash can fire and looked into it as it burned. 

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Jamie came up behind me. 

"Yeah, sure." I groaned on the inside when I walked off to the side with him. Ted's glance went from the fire to watching me leave with Jamie. 

"I just wanna say I'm so sorry about what happened to ya, with your boyfriend and all. I know I didn't treat you right when you first came here and I shouldn't have done that. I just wanna start fresh, yeah?" Jamie seemed genuinely apologetic. 

"Yeah, Jamie. Of course," I reached up for hug. I could tell during the past few weeks that Jamie was starting to become less of a prick. He'll always be a prick, that's just who he is to his core, but I could tell he was trying to change. 

"We're good, yeah?" He asked. 

"Yeah, we're good, prick." I laughed. I dragged him back to the fire. All the other guys were drinking and having a fun time, while Ted was staring daggers into the fire just taking sips out of his beer. 

I celebrated with Roy and Keeley while Ted mostly talked to Coach Beard for the remainder of the evening. 

"He keeps looking over at you, babe." Keeley nudged at me. 

"I know," I smirked. As I said that, Ted walked over to us. 

"Can I steal her for a second?" Ted asked Keeley. 

"Be my guest," Keeley responded. 

"Don't call the cops! I promise I'll pay for her when I get back." Ted joked with Keeley causing me to roll my eyes. Ted and I walked to the sidelines and both of us took seats in the technical area. 

"As you would say, what's on your noggin?" I asked Ted, shooting him a smile. 

"I just wanted to say I'm so extremely sorry about what happened with Julian. As someone who knew him well, I didn't know he was like that." Ted softened his eyes as he spoke to me. 

"It's okay, Ted. You didn't know. He's good at making it seem like he's the good guy." I laughed at how pathetic he was. 

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Ted asked. It might help if I opened up to Ted, especially as someone who knows Julian. 

"He was my high school sweetheart. I was the prom queen and he was prom king, ya know? Bullshit like that. Well, about three months before we graduated, my parents died in a really bad accident. I had no where else to go, so I stayed with Julian and his family.  I guess that's where he realized how much power he had over me. It started with him making sure I didn't see my friends. Then it escalated to me not being able to really talk to anyone when we were out. It ended with him hitting me. I mean, I guess I shouldn't sugar coat it. He beat the shit out of me. I just never had the money, or the guts, to leave. He always told me that if I ever left him that he would just find me and bring me back. That I'll never be able to leave him and he'll always be a shadow right behind me. That's why I immediately took the job when the Dean told me about Rebecca's offer. He was out with his friends, so I just packed my essentials and left. I don't plan to ever look back. I don't think I've ever been happier." I sadly smiled. Ted hadn't taken his attention off of me the entire time. 

"Just know one thing," Ted held my hands in his, "You will always be safe here and you will always have a home with us." 

The two of us just sat in the technical area watching the team have a blast by the fire. I sat there smiling to myself, thinking about how full my heart was. Even if Ted and I were to remain friends, I will forever be grateful for his friendship and the kindness he's shown me. 

***

The next morning, I was sitting at my desk doing some work when Ted burst into my office. 

"Rebecca is out of line. She cannot get away with this." He stated. He was furious. 

"Ted, breathe. What happened?" I grabbed onto his shoulders so he'd focus. 

"She traded him. Jamie. He went back to Man City."

"She what?!" I gasped. 

Just as Jamie started making progress with everyone on the team, including me, he's gone. 

authors note: sorry this chapters a bit of a filler! the next two chapters are literally so long and filled with drama I'm so excited to fix them up and bit and get them posted! I actually cried writing them so get your tissues ready hehe thank you all so much for the support you've shown my writing so far. it means so much :)

taglist: @nerdgirljen

[queerwheels]

I’ve been thinking about Roy not coaching Jamie. This post got incredibly long and rambly. Also possibly some Ted Lasso spoilers if you haven't watched all 3 seasons?

It’d be easy to conclude that he’s not coaching Jamie initially because he’s still mad at his previous behavior. Jamie was an asshole and did a lot of shitty things. And Roy isn’t exactly great at processing his anger. I mean he’s learning but he’s in the messy middle of it. So, we could conclude that Roy initially declines coaching Jamie because he’s holding a grudge.

Plus, we know Roy enjoys a good power play. (Like they literally did kink stuff in the hallway, what even? Lmao) So maybe he’s using his new coaching position to hold a grudge against Jamie, and power play.

But I don’t think that’s it. Or at least, not fully why.

By the point Roy becomes a coach, he deeply respects Ted. Maybe begrudgingly, maybe he never admits it out loud, but Roy Kent deeply respects Ted.

Not necessarily due to any football specific wisdom of Ted’s. But Roy is a heart player. As a heart player myself, we tend to be deeply loyal to coaches, if we respect them. By the time Roy is a coach, Ted has his respect.

Ted heard their feedback about the showers, and got the pressure fixed asap. Ted admits when he doesn’t know something and defers to those who do know without making anyone lesser. He is the epitome of treat the janitor with as much respect as anyone else. While Ted won’t outright stop the bullying of Nate, he shows him respect in other ways. He’s strategic and understands people. He’s someone that respects Roy, respects the team, as individuals and as a unit. Ted is someone who Roy can be vulnerable with. Where else does Roy have that?

Ted sees Roy. Ted knows Roy’s heart is in the right place. Ted definitely knows that Roy is a heart player. Heck, all of the fans know that Roy is a heart player, we hear it in their chant for him. “He’s here, he’s there, he’s every fucking where.”

(He’s not actually everywhere. It’s impossible to be everywhere. We know that.) But Roy knows what’s needed in various situations, and he’s self-aware enough to know his strengths; to know when he needs to be where and how to get there effectively in the time he has.

It reminds me of when I was playing wheelchair basketball. On the surface, wheelchair basketball is pretty similar to standing basketball. But below the surface, you need to be a lot more spatially aware of things, due to the nature of wheelchairs taking up more space than someone standing. You need to be aware of how much space you take up, what spaces your chair can and can’t fit into, your speed, speed of others,  angles, etc. One of my coaches, who was a Paralympian wheelchair basketball player, frequently said, “sometimes the best thing you can do is to give up a few feet (of space on the floor) in order to not let the shot be uncontested.” He is a heart player too.

My maximum speed on the court is fast enough, but it’s still significantly slower than a lot of ppl. A person who plays only on their talent might look at that and be like “they’re faster than me, so I can’t guard them.” But as a heart player, I dug in and learned how to be where I needed to be to guard them to the best of my ability. Even if it meant giving up ¾ of the court space available on a fast break, 8/10 times I’d still get there either for the defense or the foul instead of an uncontested shot.

Roy plays the same way. But you don’t get that kind of understanding and such consistent implementation of it unless you put in extra effort, maybe hours upon hours pouring over film, taking coaches constructive criticisms seriously, putting extra time in. What Roy lacks as a player, or loses in his age, he makes up for with his passion, and his understanding of what’s needed. He isn’t always able to get there but he’s damn well going to give his all or die trying.

What does all this have to do with Roy not coaching Jamie? (And then also when Roy is coaching Jamie)

Roy understands that Jamie being a prick is a strength, when it’s aimed at the other team. (But Roy also has lots of experience w/ Jamie being a prick to his own teammates. It’d be easy for Roy to conclude something like, “Sure, Jamie looks like he’s changing but what if I tell him to be a prick and he is a bully again?”)

Roy respects Ted and knows that Ted has been pushing Jamie to be a team player.

Roy is strategic. He sees things and he understands what pieces work best where.

(my guess is that Ted especially has Roy’s respect and gratitude for bringing him back to the game he loves, to feeling alive again. Especially after being forcibly retired from what he’s loved for most of his life, due to his knee giving out. Who is Roy Kent when he’s not around football? Does he even know anymore? That leaves a lot A LOT  of room for depression, despair, anger. Roy had to be somewhat forced into the pundit thing by Keeley, and then again nudged by Ted asking. Ted still leaving the ticket for him even after Roy rejected his ask/offer initially.) Roy feels seen by Ted.

When he doesn’t care about someone with that deep respect, he’ll tell them exactly what he thinks. Especially if they ask or needle him. But this coaching gig, and feeling alive again, that’s still newish when he’s refusing to coach Jamie. What if he’s afraid that criticizing Ted’s thought of getting Jamie to be a team player could make that all disappear again?

Thus we have: Roy coaching the team. But just not coaching Jamie. Until Jamie asks again and again. Until Ted agrees with Jamie and asks too. And Roy can finally believe that that specific piece of feedback is actually wanted, and/or just gets to the point of fuck it.

Bonus, Jamie repeatedly asking Roy for coaching is where we start getting to see that Jamie is also a heart player. It’s just previously been hidden behind his talent and his cockiness. But you don’t agree to 4 am workouts unless you’re a heart player.

Also I know Roy said whatever about 4 am being an opportune time. But I think that also comes down to Roy being a heart player. As a professional footballer, their practices are intense. When you’re doing multiple workouts a day, the body needs time in-between workouts to rest, to eat, etc, in order for it to be sustainable at all. My guess is that 4 am was chosen b/c of Roy’s history of having figured out that that was a time when he could  get the extra workout in, while also letting his body rest before the team practice, and still get everything done that he needed to, as well as get sleep.

[cuppachar]

Rewatching jamie in early season 1 is so hard cause like. I wish they knew what he was going through. I remember being young and hurting and so mean because of it. And it was so not okay of me. But also, I'd see everyone else allowed to be silly and sensitive and emotional and mediocre and I wasn't allowed to be anything but tough, and it made me so mad. And I just want to hug him and tell him I get it, and that it's gonna be okay.

Hi Anon

Thank you for that insight and hearing your experience.

I get you completely - re-watching S1 just reminds me that we do not know what's going on inside other people or know what has happened to them. I think it's why I love that scene with Roy in S3 where he's doing the press conference after Isaac's aggression to the abusive football fan.

'to do what he did today, even though it was wrong, I give him love.'

Knowing some of Jamie's background (and I wish we got more to be honest, but's an ensemble cast with multiple characters who have complex issues and/or dynamics, so it's limited in that regards) and seeing S1 again, it's such a different viewing and understanding of a character and makes Jamie so much more human and real. Jamie isn't just a prick. He's a prick with trauma and reasons.

I don't see cocky prick Jamie who thinks he's best who never passes because everyone else is shit - I see Jamie, who's terrified of what his dad will do to him if he isn't dominant.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't celebrate his teammate's birthdays and eat cake - I see a Jamie who's been told to treat his teammates as 'assists' and has diet plans that don't include cakes or pastries because he has a weight he needs to keep.

I don't see a Jamie who doesn't want to greet his new teammate - I see Jamie, who flinches at fast movements and doesn't trust easily. I see a Jamie who's realised he's not their only ace anymore, and that terrifies him because of the implications that may have with his father (Imagine the writers hadn't gone down the rehab route for James Tartt Snr in S3 and how Zava's introduction and place in the team would have caused some serious consequences for Jamie, both psychologically and physically).

I don't see the Jamie who cockily refuses to 'practice' - I see a Jamie who shifted into 'I don't like angry men shouting at me' (and at some point pre-canon, I imagine Jamie's hero-worship of Roy was destroyed and tainted when he met 'Shouty, I don't give a shit-Roy-Kent And I'll take out my negative emotions on you, even if you deserve it or not' and Jamie's poster hero , who he'd imagined stepping out of the wall and putting his dad through the said wall was gone and Jamie's automatic response was to be a prick in defence/offence.)

I don't see a Jamie who brought two dates to the auction - I see a Jamie who wasn't sure if he could get Keeley to bid on her own boyfriend, so he brought another plus one instead, terrified that he'd have to have sex with an older woman like those ladies behind the glass windows in Amsterdam. Watching that episode back really icks me out, and seeing Jamie's response back when I first watched it, you could mistake Jamie's reaction to both Keeley and Roy's 'teasing' as Jamie just being mocked and teased, but re-watching it, I see a Jamie who's really uncomfortable with the attention he's getting and upset at his rival and girlfriend cruelly mocking him (of course, they don't know about his experience in Amsterdam) but I'm always struck at how Jamie walks away from the table, from the both of them, because he's upset (and it kind of hits me even more, 'cause I think that Jamie doesn't even know why he's so upset with how much he's suppressed the memory, the implication of what his father orchestrated despite his tender age).

Although, I think they could have had a bit more Jamie and Ted interaction or reflection on Jamie's relationship with his father and/or trauma (because there did seem to have link to Ted's panic attacks, especially when you consider Ted's panic attack during the match in S2, because you can hear Jamie's dad verbally abusing Jamie from the S1 final as Ted spirals, which was really interesting and I only realised this recently) I really do appreciate Ted's "I promise you there is something worse out there than being sad, and that's being alone and being sad. Ain't no one in this room alone" sentiment, but I just really wished he'd reached out to Jamie, because Jamie wasn't just alone and sad, he was scared and traumatised, and although he didn't verbalise it in S2, he obviously had no safe places or people he felt he could turn to, so he not only left the profession he loves, he left the country.

Anyway, my ramble is over.

In summary, you only really get a better understanding of Jamie by re-watching Season 1 and seeing him in a different light after watching S2/S3.