#jamie is also his own footballer obviously

[wwxsflutesolo]

I can’t stop thinking about how cosmically intertwined Roy and Jamie are. Like, the end of Roy’s career was pretty much the start of Jamie’s as we now know it. Roy finds ways to allow people space for what they need through him. They’re clearly two people who were destined to meet. Jamie is Roy’s continued legacy. Jamie’s successes bring Roy clarity. They only make each other better with every passing day & that just makes me feel like I’m being punted into the fucking air !!

[tartt9]

wwc has me thinking about jamie's playstyle a lot like. okay i guess im really into the football part of the silly football show alsjfalsfj

[softspaceboibrian]

The Heart Wants What It Wants || Jamie Tartt

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Y/N where Y/N works at AFC Richmond || I used she/her pronouns, but there is no actual physical description, so the pronouns can be switched with whatever anyone wants or prefers!

Characters: Jamie Tartt; Keeley Jones and Rebecca Welton (Y/N's best friends); Sam Obisanya, Isaac McAdoo, Colin Hughes and Dani Rojas (Jamie's support team); Roy (being his usual grumpy self).

Summary: when Y/N goes into Rebecca's office to have her usual morning chat with her best friends, she doesn't expect it to result in a very messy confession from her crush.

Warnings: bad language, like a lot. slight sexual harassment. Roy being harsh with Jamie. Jamie being all over the place with his feelings. fluff, a lot of pining and crushing. just bad writing, really.

WC: 8355 (it's kinda long, I know... but I didn't know where to stop! sorry!)

A/N: This is my first time writing for JAmie or any Ted Lasso character in general. I hadn't written anything in months, and I guess it shows. but I was so sad that there weren't enough Jamie fics on here that I thought I could just write one of my own. hopefully people like it! I'm in the middle of my exam session, but if you have any requests or suggestions, feel free to write me!

this gif is completely unrelated, i just love phil dunstan

“Come in” Rebecca’s voice was clear and loud as always, even through the closed door. As you walked in, you took in the smell of hot tea permeating the door – definitely something you could always count on.

You greeted both Rebecca and Keeley, before plopping down on the sofa right in front of the big windows looking out onto the field. You looked out for a moment, noticing the team making their way outside to finally begin practice. You had been working at AFC Richmond for almost a year now, all thanks to Miss Keeley fucking Jones, obviously. Ever since you first day there, everyone had immediately started treating you as if you had always been part of the family, especially Rebecca. “If Keeley likes you so much, it must definitely mean something.” That was her excuse when she invited you out for drinks with the two of them on the second day. “Also, there’s only so many women working at AFC Richmond, we have to stick together, don’t we?” And the rest was history, as some author would say. Even the team had liked you since the get-go. Some more than others. There should be a disclaimer here: you had never cared for football, in any of its forms. But Keeley had been so persuading, making the job sound like a party. And she wasn’t lying. Being with the team was more fun than you could have ever imagined. Yes, some of them were self-centred, and some were self-centred pricks, even. But somehow, you had taken a liking to all of them. And now, after an entire year of working there, you knew them so well that she could even make out who was who all the way from Rebecca’s office.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, that when Keeley talked, you almost jumped out of her seat. “Babes, is everything alright?” Her voice was kind as always. “You seem off today.”

“Everything is fine.” You fixed yourself, turning around so to face both of your friends.

You smiled, or rather you forced yourself to make your smile feel as real as possible. But when you met Rebecca’s gaze you froze. She was holding one of those shortbread biscuits that Ted brought her in every morning and that you only had the pleasure to taste once and, well, you completely understood why Rebecca loved them so much. “I call bullshit.”

“What?”

“I said I call bullshit.” The woman put the last remaining bit of biscuit in the small, pink cardboard box, as to save it for later, and then made her way on the couch with you and Keeley. “You have been off for, well, quite a few days now. And I love that you’re an independent woman and everything, but Keeley and I are your friends. Actually, I would like to believe that we are your best friends. We care for you and we would very much appreciate it if you would trust us enough to come to us with your problems and thoughts.”

“Yeah, babes. You know we’re always here for you.” Keeley moved closer to you and leaned against the back of the couch.

You sighed, burying your face in your hands. You had wanted to talk with them for a while now, but you were always too afraid they wouldn’t care about it, or you were too embarrassed about how they might react to it. But this time it was them that asked you to tell them. And they seemed truly interested in knowing what was going on in your mind.

“Chop, chop, out with it.” Rebecca let her heels fall to the ground and set herself comfortably in the corner of the couch. Yeah, well, as comfortable as that extremely fitted pencil skirt gave her permission to.

You bit your lip for a moment, gathering all the courage you had. “It’s stupid, really.” You tried to laugh it off, hoping that they would just let it go.

But they didn’t. “It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel like this.” Keeley said, putting a hand on yours.

“Fine.” You sighed, looking off in front of you. “I think I may have feelings for Jamie.” You blurted out as quickly as you could.

“Our Jamie? Like, Jamie Tartt?” Keeley asked.

“I know it’s stupid. I shouldn’t like him, right? I know you think it’s stupid. I know you think he’s a prick, and you’re not wrong. I know that he’s a prick. Fuck, that makes me hate myself even more. How could I like a prick? Well, he had changed a bit, and now he-s a bit less of a prick. But still, he’s Jamie fucking Tartt, he’s probably one of the hottest footballers out there, in any way possible. He could fucking have whoever he wanted. Hell, he could have a fucking model. I’m sure he had model. He had you, Keels. And I’m just me. I fucking hate that I’m feeling this.” You started rambling on aimlessly, putting out there in only a few seconds all the fears and insecurities you had been holding in for the past who knows how long.

“Hey, love. Just, wait a minute.” Rebecca’s voice broke your train of thoughts, thankfully just in time, or who knows where you could’ve ended. “Let’s just calm down a moment, okay?”

“It’s just-” You sighed. “I hate that I’m feeling these feelings. I don’t want to feel them. Not for him. I don-t want to be his latest conquest that he’s going to move on from and forget as soon as he finds someone more interesting. I don’t want this. But I can’t help it. I… Fuck, I feel like I’m back in middle school. Shit, shit, shit. How old am I? 12? No, I’m not. I’m 25 years old, for fuck’s sake. I should fall for proper man. Not people like him.” Your eyes filled up with tears, which you tried to hide as best as you could, even though you knew that the other two would notice them, nonetheless.

And they did. Rebecca and Keeley shared a quick glance, before sliding even closer to you, both immediately wrapping their arms around your figure. “Listen, babes. You said it yourself. I’ve been with Jamie, and he was in his top prick form back then. Now he’s… he’s changing. I don’t know if it’s the training with Roy or if it’s Ted finally rubbing off on him, but he’s no longer the dickhead I dumped almost two years ago.”

“She’s right. He has changed.” Rebecca agreed with Keeley. “Also, you cannot tell your heart what it should and shouldn’t feel. It will only cause you more pain, and we definitely don’t want that.” The woman had this motherly instinct that you had always loved. She always knew what to say to make you feel better, or at least less shitty about yourself. “And remember, you could never do worse than me. I was married to the king of the shitheads.” She added, which made both you and Keeley laugh.

“Okay, let’s do this.” Keeley got up and ran to the door, only to lock it and run back to the couch. “If it’s alright with Rebecca, we’re going to take the morning off to talk, just the three of us.”

“Sounds perfect to me. I really didn’t have much to do anyway.” Rebecca was a great liar. You knew she probably had so many documents to read through and to sign. But she always made time to help you with your problems. And that’s why you loved her so much. “Is that right with you, love?”

You didn’t even need to say anything. You barely nodded, and next thing you knew, the three of you were sitting on the couch with no shoes on, a warm cup of tea each and a big chunky blanket on your legs. You never really thought they would be this open with you. Yes, they had made it clear ever since the beginning that they liked you and that they cared for you. But you had never thought that you could go to them for something like that and they would do all of that for you. But they did.

“Okay, let’s start with one simple question: are you two talking? Or, I don’t know, did you go on a date?” Keeley’s question was very straightforward and made completely sense. However, the answer wasn’t as easy to give.

“Well, we haven’t really gone on like a proper date. But we did spend quite a lot of time together last week.” You looked at the other two and you could feel them asking for more information with just their eyes. “It didn’t start as the best of situations…”

------------------------------ FLASHBACK ------------------------------

You didn’t really want to go out that night. It wasn’t really your thing. You usually spent your nights at home, reading a book or watching a movie. Or, if you were lucky, you would go out with Keeley and Rebecca for dinner and drinks, which you loved. What you didn’t love was going out for drinks with people you weren’t as comfortable with. But you had never really learnt how to say no to people, so when your old high school friend – who had moved to America for college and you hadn’t heard from since – messaged you on Instagram, saying that she was back in London for a few days and wanted to go out with you to “catch up”, you couldn’t really bring yourself to decline the offer or make up an excuse. So, you just agreed and made plans to meet up with her in front of a very busy and very fancy place downtown. You hated clubs, especially busy one, but even more you hated going to new places without people you knew. But you knew the girl, in a way. You were really close in high school, so things shouldn’t be too bad, right?

“So, you’re working for a football club! Never thought it would happen!” The girl shouted over the loud music which you were already hating with all your guts. But you just pulled through it.

“Yeah, it’s a good job.” You hated having to raise your voice so much, but it was the least you could do if you wanted to have a conversation with her.

“Do you know any famous footballer?”

“I mean, I know the boys from the team. I suppose they’re famous now. But yeah.”

“Would you introduce me to any of them?”

There it was. You had been talking with her for half an hour and, knowing how she was back in high school, you had been wondering how she hadn’t yet asked you about the guys. A small part of you really wanted to believe that she had changed and that she had stopped sleeping around with guys just because they were hot. But apparently, you were wrong. “Well, it’s complicated. They’re in the middle of the Premier season right now, and most of them are training really hard hoping to be rostered for their national teams. Plus, you’re only going to be in town for a few days, so that wouldn’t really work.”

“I wouldn’t mind moving my flight back for a footballer.” She smirked.

“Maybe next time.” You fake-smiled. “Also, who would want to go out with a football player? Most of them are self-centred assholes who only care about winning.”

“But they are sexy and they have money.”

“But you’re studying law in an ivy league college, you could be the one with money in the relationship.”

“Nah, I don’t really care about that. If a hot guy with money wanted to be with me, I would literally give everything up.” She said, as if that was the most obvious answer. Now you were remembering why you never reached out to her after high school was over.

You spent another half hour listening to her blabbering about something you didn’t really care about. And you could tell that she knew, but didn’t say anything. That was how things had always been between the two of you back in school: she was the popular one, with guys running after her, and her constantly cancelling plans that you two had made to go on a date with a different guy, while you spent your afternoons with the drama club, putting on the next show, to which she was always invited but she never came. It wasn’t all bad. You actually had good times with her. You spent a lot of time over at her house, and you were almost part of her family. But once you were no longer forced to see each other every single day at school, it didn’t take long for you to realise you were completely different. So, you just stopped looking for each other, making plans or going out. That’s why, when the messages stopped coming altogether, it didn’t really hurt you, since you were the first that had started to back out from that friendship. But years had passed and you had really hoped she had grown out of that phase of her life. But you were wrong. People never change, that was what you said to yourself as you were absentmindedly nodding to whatever she was saying now.

“Listen, Y/N, do you mind if I leave you alone here for a moment? There’s a guy over there that has been eyeing me for a while now and, I don’t know, I have this feeling I should go over there.” That was her usual excuse. I have this feeling. As if sexual craving could be described as an actual feeling. But you didn’t care, you actually wouldn’t mind to spend a few minutes by yourself. So, you just told her to go. And she did. Not a single “are you sure you don’t mind” nor an “it will be quick, I promise”. She simply picked all her stuff up and left.

And then you were alone.

You thought about leaving a couple of times, but you thought it would be rude because what would happen if she came back and you weren’t there?

So, you just remained seated there, in the small booth, waiting. And waiting. You looked around, studying the crowd, and hoping that she would just come back, or at least text you to let you know her intentions for the rest of the night. But that message never came. And you waited there, alone.

Until, after almost twenty minutes, a random man approached you. He had to have been at least 15 years older than you. He was dressed all fancy, a black blazer and jeans, a white shirt with the first couple of buttons left open to show a few sparse grey hairs on his chest, as if that was something that all women found sexy; I mean, who did he think he was? Roy Kent? He walked over to your table and leaned on it to get closer to you. “Is this seat taken?”

The first thing that hit you was the almost nauseating amount of perfume and aftershave, closely followed by the stench of cigarette and alcohol as soon as he opened his mouth. “I’m waiting for a friend.” You replied, hoping that would be enough to send him away.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been sitting here alone for quite some time now.” He smiled, and you wanted to throw up. “And I don’t she’s coming back. She and that boy looked very intimate if you know what I mean.”

That comment sent shivers down your spine. How long had he been looking at you? “I’m waiting for another friend of ours.” You said, hoping that he would buy it.

He moved closer to you. “Let me wait with you. I wouldn’t want to leave such a pretty girl out here on her own.”

You hated when people called you a girl. You were a grown woman, for god’s sake! But you hated it even more when that comment came from creepy old men that were nonchalantly flirting with you.

“They should be here any minute now.” You replied quickly. “And I actually prefer to sit alone.”

“Nonsense! Let me keep you company!” He smirked, sliding even closer to you. You were on the verge of tears, feeling this awful sensation in your stomach. You felt like you were going to throw up, and you weren’t sure whether it was because of his terrible taste in perfumes, the horrible stench of smoke, or just his presence in general. You wanted to just get up and get away, but it was as if your legs had forgotten how to move. You tried to insist, telling him that you were going to meet them outside, but he wouldn’t let you go. He started moving his hand, and you knew that, if you didn’t move, he would put it on your thigh. But, with tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, your body completely froze.

“Y/N!” A voice called your name. You turned around to look at the source. Your vision was hazy from the tears, and the strobe lights weren’t exactly helping you in that moment. “I’m sorry I’m late, I couldn’t find a spot to park me car.” He walked over to your table and waited for you to do or say something to sit next to you.

“You’re Jamie fucking Tartt!” The old man exclaimed. “Fuck, man. You’re great! My mates and I don’t really like Richmond, but you’re the best player in the team. You and that Oby- Obe-, you know, the Nigerian guy.”

“Yeah, cheers, man.” Jamie replied, taking a seat next to you. “Now, would you mind leaving us alone?”

“Is she your date?” The man asked, and you could tell that he was confused because why would a star like Jamie Tartt go out with a normal girl like you?

“Do you have a problem?”

“No, no!” The old man finally stood up from the table. “You enjoy her.” He smirked and gave him a wink, before looking at you up and down for the last time and eventually leave.

You finally could feel your body relax again when your attention was caught by Jamie talking. “What a fucking creep.” He shook his head, before finally looking at you. “Are you alright? Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head. “I think you got here just in time.” You smiled at him, almost feeling guilty for probably having ruined his night.

“Were you here alone?”

“Well, not really. I was here with a friend but she left with a guy.” You stopped, quickly looking around. “But I don’t think she’s coming back.”

“Some kind of friend.” He sighed, still looking at you, as if he were studying you, trying to understand if everything was truly okay, trying to assess the situation. “Do you want to leave?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to go out, maybe grab a bite?” He raised his voice, thinking that you might have not heard him over the loud music.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay. You can go back to your evening if you want. I’m fine, I swear.”

“I was here on me own.”

“You go to clubs alone?”

“Well, yeah.” He looked at you for a moment. “Listen, really, I don’t have anything to do here. And in any case, I would much rather spend time with you. So, if you want to leave and do something actually funny instead of waiting for some shitty friend to hopefully come back, then count me in.”

------------------------- END OF FLASHBACK -------------------------

“Did you go with him?” Keeley asked, looking at you as if she was watching the latest episode of a soap opera, completely hooked up to the story.

“We spent the entire night together.” You said shyly.

“Doing what?” You had never seen Rebecca so shocked and interested in a story in a while.

“We ate in a chicken shop; we stayed there talking for a while and then we took a walk.”

“How long did you stay out for?”

You could feel both Keeley’s and Rebecca’s eyes on you, demanding an answer, wanting to know more, to know everything. “Well, we took the sunrise as our cue to go home.”

“Babes! You’re telling me that you stayed up all night talking with Jamie?” Keeley squealed, jumping on her knees. “Like, you found topics to talk about for, what, 7? 8 hours?”

“It wasn’t that difficult. I didn’t even have to force it.”

“What did you talk about?” Asked Rebecca. And all of a sudden, the almost 50-year-old and 30-year-old women in front of you turned back into their high school personas and you almost wanted to laugh at how adorably funny that scene was.

“Well, a bit of everything, you know. Our lives, where we grew up, our favourite things, favourite food, favourite movie, favourite city, the books that have impacted us the most, the cities that we dream of visiting one day. Normal stuff.”

Keeley looked at you, in complete shock. “You talked about books. With Jamie. How?”

“He said that he had noticed I like to read and asked me about my favourite book. I told him and then asked him the same thing. And he told me.” You replied, as if that was obvious. But it was only then that you remember that Keeley had been with Jamie in the past and, if she was that shocked, it must have meant that, when they were together, he didn’t read. Possibly at all.

“Babes, remember when I told you he had changed since I had broken up with him, right? Well, that’s an understatement. When we were together, it was fun, but we didn’t really talk about that kind of stuff. He was much more superficial. I don’t think he never really asked me what my favourite food was. And the fact that he was taking an interest in all of those things about you, well, it definitely means something. I wouldn’t take that for granted.” Hearing Keeley, someone you trusted with all of your heart, someone you loved and looked up to, someone that truly knew who you were talking about, saying all of those things, made you feel things. You didn’t know what those things meant, but they were things you hadn’t felt in a long time. And for the first time in days, you were finally accepting the idea of having feelings for Jamie Tartt.

After a few moments of silence, Rebecca asked you “Was that the only time you spent time together?”

“Well, no. I mean, we’ve been talking basically every single day. He sends me a good morning text almost every day, and we talk a lot at night. Sometimes he calls me.”

“Okay, okay. That’s good.” Rebecca said, almost as if she was an investigator gather all the evidence. “But you didn’t answer my question: did you go out another time?”

You immediately felt heat rising to your cheeks. “We didn’t really go out.” You looked at the two women in silence for a moment. “Last night he… ehm… he showed up to my place.”

“What?” They both almost screamed at the same time.

------------------------------ FLASHBACK ------------------------------

You had just finished putting on your pyjamas after a long warm shower. You still had to decide what you wanted to eat, something you always dreaded because, as much as you loved cooking, you hated preparing food for one. You started making your way down the stairs and to the kitchen when your doorbell rang. You weren’t really expecting anyone, so the sound left you confused. You looked through the peephole before even saying anything, so that if it was someone you didn’t know, you could jut pretend you weren’t at home. But, when you looked through it, you were surprised to see Jamie standing right outside of your door.

You immediately took a look at yourself in the mirror right beside the door, trying to make yourself look at least presentable, before finally opening the door. When Jamie’s entire figure came into view, you noticed the food boxes in his hands. “Jamie?”

“Hi, Y/N! Ehm, I’m sorry to barge in on you like this but… ehm… I thought we could spend some time together, you know?” Was Jamie blushing?

You stood there, a soft smile on your lips, looking at the man in front of you. “Sure.” You giggled, moving to open the door even more, as a way to let him in.

“I’m sorry, I should have texted or called. That was stupid. If you’re busy I can just-”

You cut him off. “Jamie. I’m not busy. You can come in. I just wasn’t expecting visitors, so the house is, well, it’s not tidy.” You take a step forward to take some of the boxes off of him. “What’s with all of this food? Did you rob a supermarket?” You laughed, nodding your head as a sign for him to follow you, before making your way to the kitchen.

“No!” He laughed, and suddenly you felt this weird sensation in your stomach. “I didn’t know what you were craving and so I got everything that you told me you liked.” He said, while putting the boxes on the counter. “I got us a pizza to share, because you said you’re not a huge fan, but that you like to eat it while watching movies. I also got us kebabs because they’re always good, and sushi because why not. Oh, and I also got us those spicy Korean rice thingies that you said you love so much. What’s their name? Tee- To-”

You laughed as he struggled to say the word. “Tteokbokki.”

“Yeah, those.” He smiled, putting his hands on his sides.

“Just a question.” You walked around the kitchen gathering cutlery and plates to eat. “How many people did you think were going to be here? There’s enough food to feed an army.”

He looked at you and then the food, before bursting out laughing. “I told you! I didn’t know what you were craving. And I wanted to do something nice for you, but I overdid it.”

You put the plates on the counter and turned to look at him. “It’s okay, I appreciate it anyways.” You smiled. “But why would you wanted to do this for me? It’s not my birthday or anything.”

“I just… I had a very good time with you the other night.” Was Jamie blushing? Again? “And I was really in the mood to watch a good movie. So, who better than you to watch it with.”

You smiled, trying to hide the blushing coming onto your cheeks as well by turning your attention to the food on the counter. “Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, while putting the different foods on the plates.

“You said that you really like Dead Poets Society, right? And that you think everyone should watch it at least once in their lifetime, right? So, I thought, since I’ve never seen it, we could, I don’t know, watch it together. If you want to, obviously.” He waited for you to plate the food to pick a couple of plates up and follow you into the living room.

“That actually sounds like a perfect plan, Mr Tartt.” You smiled, while taking a seat on the couch, waiting for him to join you.

------------------------- END OF FLASHBACK -------------------------

“Fucking hell, that’s adorable!” Keeley exclaimed. “He never did that for me! When he showed up uninvited, it was usually because he wanted to have sex.”

“Well, this is good!” Rebecca joined in. “He has changed. He listened to what you told him, he remembered your favourite food and your favourite movie. And before you say something like ‘but that’s not a big dead!’, yes it fucking is. It is a huge deal. Men aren’t always reliable. Rupert never was, at least. I vividly remember telling him my favourite drink at least a dozen times. And every single time he would get me something completely different. At the beginning I was too afraid to say anything, so I just drank it. But then I started to speak up. And still, he didn’t remember.”

“Yeah, okay, but him remembering that I like pizza only when watching movie doesn’t mean he feels anything for me.” You said, throwing your head back.

“I’m sorry, babes, didn’t you say that he told you that he wanted to spend time with you?” Keeley asked. “You said it yourself: he came to your place with all the food you had told him you liked and suggested to watch your favourite movie together because he had had a good time with you and wanted to do that again.”

“He decided to spend time with you rather than going out with other people or spend the night texting some random girl on dating apps.” Added Rebecca. “He chose to be with you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” You sighed. “I still don’t think he has feelings for me, though.”

“Whatever, babes.” Keeley took a sip out of her mug, before refocusing on you. “What happened next? Did you watch the movie?”

“Yes, we did.” You smiled at the memory. “He got emotional at the end. I’m not saying that he cried, but he definitely had glossy eyes by the time of the ‘O Captain, my Captain’ scene.”

“Which means he feels comfortable enough to show his emotions in front of you.” Rebecca noted. “And what happened next? Did he leave or did you spend another night talking?” She smirked, trying to make fun of you in a friendly way, almost mom-like.

“Well, he stayed a while longer.” You looked at the two women. “We talked a little about the movie, he told me what he thought of it, we discussed a little about why I thought it is a very important and still relevant movie, and he agreed with me. At first, I have to be honest, I thought he was just agreeing with me to not make me feel bad. But then he added to my argument and I stood corrected. He had truly understood the point of the movie and of my thoughts. For the first time in, gosh, I don’t even know how long, I felt seen, listened and understood by someone that wasn’t you two or Sam.”

Keeley brought a hand to her chest. “I have conflicted feelings because, by the way you’re talking, I want to tell you to just run out of here and into this man’s arms; but at the same time, every now and then, I remember you’re talking about Jamie, and it feels so weird because he’s so different from what I remember him to be like.” She explained. “Which is good, but kind of unsettling.”

Rebecca nodded along with what Keeley said, before eventually turning once again to face you. “What happened after you talked?”

“We decided to watch Modern Family, you know, to cheer ourselves up after the movie.”

“And?” Asked in unison the two women.

“And nothing.”

“I call bullshit.” Said Rebecca.

“Agreed.” Added Keeley. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“Nothing!”

“That’s not true!” They once again spoke in unison, which was starting to become quite weird.

“Nothing happened. We just… fell asleep.” You almost murmured those last words, almost too scared to say it out loud in front of them.

“I’m sorry, what?” Asked Rebecca, who had obviously heard and just wanted you to say it again out loud.

“We fell asleep!” You shouted. And you were so glad that Rebecca’s office was so high up and far from others. “As we were watching the show, he started leaning into me. At first, he laid his head on my shoulder, and then, somehow, we ended up with his head in my lap and my hands in his hair.” You could feel your cheeks burning up.

The two women shared a quick look, before turning back to you, huge smiles on their faces. “When did he fall asleep?” Asked Keeley.

“I don’t know.” You looked down at your own hands. “I fell asleep as well. I don’t know how or when, but when I woke up, it was like 3 in the morning, and we were lying on the couch. He had his head on my stomach and an arm draped over my waists.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” You were fidgeting with your bracelet, too embarrassed to look up and meet your friends’ eyes. “I didn’t do anything. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want him to go away.” For some reason your eyes started filling up with tears.

“Hey, babes. It’s all right.”

“No, it’s not!” You almost shouted, tears finally falling down your face. “It’s not fucking okay. I hate feeling like this.”

“Love, hey, just… wait a second. Take a deep breath.” Rebecca moved closer and wrapped her arms around you. “Why do you hate it?”

“I don’t know. I’m feeling all these things for someone that doesn’t even like me back.”

“You don’t know that, Y/N.” Keeley moved closer as well, taking your hand in hers and leaning her head against yours. “I mean, you’re the coolest person I know, you’re fucking smart and interesting, and you’re fit as fuck. I think most of the team has at least a tiny crush on you.” She smiled, hoping to cheer you up. But that didn’t work.

“Listen, love.” Rebecca squeezed you, before pulling away slightly. “As that song says, the heart wants what it wants. I know feeling like this is terrible, but there’s only one thing that you can really do, and that’s talking to him.”

“But what if he says that he was just being a good friend? What if I misread every single thing he has done and said to me up until now?”

“And what if you haven’t?” Keeley asked. “Finding you at that club was completely random, pure luck. But he then chose to spend the entire night with you. Just like he chose to send you a good morning text every single day, and he chose to come and spend the evening with you. Also, I’m almost 100% sure that he woke up as well during the night, but didn’t say anything because he didn’t want to go, just like you didn’t want him to leave.” Keeley brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face. “I know it’s hard, but you have to act.”

“But I’m scared.”

“Which means that you care.” Rebecca smiled. “You care about him and about your relationship.”

You looked at the two women in silence for a few moments. You wanted to cry, and you wanted to scream. You wanted to run out of there and straight to Jamie. You wanted to hug Keeley and Rebecca ad tell them how much you loved them. But all you could do in that moment was smile and be glad for the wonderful friends you had. “So, I should go and talk to him?”

“Yes.” Keeley smiled.

“And you should do it right now.” Said Rebecca, standing up from the couch. “The team is going back inside, which could be a good moment for you to swoop in and talk with Jamie.” She seamlessly slipped back in her high heels and fixed her blouse. “And if anyone has anything to say about it, they will have to come to me. I’m the owner of this club, after all.” She winked.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

The team had just made their way to the changing room, ready to hear Roy giving them “pointers”, or rather making sure they knew every little thing they had done wrong. But Jamie didn’t really care about that. Jamie knew that he had played like shit, but he couldn’t help it. His head was someplace else.

“Oi, Tartt!” Roy’s voice echoed in the room, and everyone’s head turned to look at the man sitting in front of his changing station. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh? You fucked all the assists. The team was constantly looking for you, and you were nowhere to be found!”

Jamie’s eyes remained low on the ground. “’m sorry, coach.” His voice was soft. “I’ll do better next time.”

His teammates couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Somehow, in the span of 24 hours, Jamie had lost all of his confidence. They looked at him and almost couldn’t recognise him. And the worst past was that no one really knew what to do with him, how to talk to him, how to cheer him up. Because that’s the thing with teams: you’re a family, you’re all extremely close, but you’re still a bunch of men that don’t know how to handle emotions and how to talk about their feelings. So, they just bottle everything up and hope that, sooner or later, it will just go away.

But right now, looking at Jamie, Sam felt compelled by something to just stand up and walk over to him, to say something. “Is everything all right?”

Sam’s voice startled Jamie, who was so deep in his thoughts he had almost forgotten he was at the clubhouse. “Uh?” Jamie looked up and was met by Sam’s concerned look. “No, yeah, everything is fine.”

“It don’t look like it, bruv.” Isaac joined in the conversation.

Sam took a seat next to Jamie. “You don’t have to talk to us about whatever is on your mind. We’re not going to force you. Just know that we’re here for you.”

“Sì, muchacho. We’re a familia.” Dani and Colin walked over as well, almost forming a barrier between him and the rest of the room, creating a safe space for him.

No one said anything for a few moments, most of them unsure of how to act, of what to say to him. They wanted to ask him, to help him, but they had no idea how. So, they all remained quiet, until Jamie broke the silence. “I feel so stupid.” Jamie’s voice was low. “I… I feel like a middle schooler.”

“What do you mean?” Colin asked.

Sam immediately turned to look at Jamie. “Did something happen with your dad?” And Jamie could feel the worry in Sam’s voice.

“No, no, I haven’t talked with me dad since Wembley.” He shook his head, rubbing his face. “No, I… You’re going to laugh…” He looked up, but all he saw was seriously interested faces, the faces of friends that were genuinely concerned for him. “I have a crush…” He almost whispered, but it was still loud enough for them to hear. They all shared a quick look amongst themselves, before turning to look again at the man sitting before them. “I feel so stupid because, usually, I have all this confidence with women, right? I’m so sure about me self that I don’t worry about the possibility of a rejection. It doesn’t affect me, usually…”

Sam nodded along with everything that Jamie said, as if he could relate to every little detail. “But with this woman in particular, you’re scared.”

Isaac asked the question that everyone wanted to ask. “Who is this woman?”

Jamie looked up from the ground, meeting everyone’s eyes. He could tell that his friends wanted to help him, but something was stopping him, almost too afraid to admit he had feelings for her, too scared that they would laugh in his face and say that she deserved better than him.

“Muchacho, you’re a beautiful man, and every woman would be lucky to be with you.” Dani always had this way of talking that could give confidence even to the shiest and most introverted person in the world.

“No, you don’t understand. This woman is different from the others.” He sighed. “She’s not a top model or an aspiring actress that wants to be with me because I’m famous. She’s… she’s different.” Jamie started fidgeting with the ends of his shoelaces. “And I’m different. I’m not the same person I was two years ago, I know that. And I think that’s why I’m so scared. Like, what if she doesn’t like me? What if she still thinks I’m a prick? Uh?”

“Listen, boyo. You said it yourself; you have changed. And if this woman doesn’t like your new you, then too bad for her.” Colin took a seat next to Jamie, opposite to Sam. “But if you truly like her, you should tell her. Don’t let your fear get in the way of your happiness, okay?”

“Yeah, like Selena Gomez said in her song, the heart wants what it wants.” Smiled Dani.

Jamie looked at those people around him, and for a moment he felt all the guilt for how he had treated them two years before rise to the top. Did they forget everything he had done to them? Did they forget how bad he had made them feel? He had treated them so poorly, and yet, now they were there, next to him, showing care and interest in how he was feeling. “Thank you, boys.” He smiled softly.

“You know we’re here.” Sam smiled, giving him a small push with the shoulder. “We’re family.”

“Yeah, bruv.” Isaac added. “But are you going to tell us who this woman is or not?”

However, their conversation was cut short by the door to the changing room opening, and Y/N walking in, looking around, clearly searching for someone. And that was when the boys realised Jamie didn’t need to tell them anything, because as soon as he saw her, he stood up. He fixed his hair and immediately took a step forward. None of them said anything. They just remained quiet and watched the scene unfold in front of their eyes.

“Jamie.” You smile once you finally met his eyes.

“Y/N” He replied, softly, taking another step towards her.

“Do you… do you think we could talk for a moment? Alone?” She said quietly, but the silence in the room made it extremely complicated for her not to be heard by everyone.

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

You smiled, turning around to exit the changing room. Jamie took a deep breath, turning quickly to look at the four guys standing a few steps away from him. He nodded to them, and they nodded to him in return, as a way to say ‘you got this’ or ‘go get her’. So, he took one more deep breath, and followed her outside.

Once he stepped into the corridor, he noticed Keeley and Rebecca standing in the middle of it, looking at the two of them. Keeley smiled, which gave Jamie a boost of confidence, Whereas Rebecca was looking at him in such an intimidating way that immediately sent shivers running down his spine. He knew they were there for you, and he knew how much they cared for you, so it wasn’t difficult for him to understand what Rebecca’s gaze meant: ‘break her heart and I’ll break you’.

He greeted the two women with a quick nod, before realising you were still walking down the corridor. “Wait up, Y/N!” He said, jogging after you. “Where are we going?”

“Boot room. It’s the quietest place in here.” You looked at him, noticing his expression, as if he wanted to say something. “I already asked Will to leave us alone in there.” You replied, quickly grabbing him by his hand and pulling him through the doorway.

“You always think about everything.” He chuckled, getting into the room. He never really understood when or how that room had become like a sort of therapy room for the team, where most of them went when they needed to get something off of their chest or just be alone, but couldn’t leave the clubhouse. That place stank like hell. But he was glad nonetheless for the privacy. “You had your supporters with you as well, uh?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” You laughed under your breath. “They are actually the ones that forced me to come and talk to you.”

“Should I be scared, then?”

“No! No.” You shake your head. “I don’t think so.” You started pacing around the room, trying to give order to all the things you had in your head at the moment.

“Is everything alright?” Jamie looked at you, slightly worried.

You looked at him, taking a deep breath. “Yes.” You nodded. “Just give me a moment because I haven’t really thought about what I want to say to you. Or rather, how I want to say it to you.”

Jamie nodded, taking a step towards you and catching your hand before you stepped away again. “Do you mind if I go first, then?”

You looked at him, surprise painted all over your face. You didn’t know what to say, so you simply nodded, waiting for him to talk.

“Okay, so, first of all, I wanted to tell you that last night was… well, I really enjoyed spending time with you, and I really wish we could do it more often.” He smiled, squeezing your hand as a way to catch your attention. “And then to the difficult part... Okay. The boys told me to just be me self. But it’s difficult, you know? Because, like, I am always me self, but when I’m with you, I’m different from how I am with the others. Not in the sense that I’m not truly me self, but in the sense that, when I’m with you, I’m me self even more than usual.” He stopped, looking down. “Sorry, I didn’t really have anything prepared either.” He chuckles.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Go on, you’re doing great.” You said, trying to look at him in the eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is that when I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly me self. Like I’m the most authentic version of me. And I like it. I want to be like that always. But I feel like I can only be like that when I’m with you.” He looks at you. “I lied before. I don’t want to be with you more often.” You stopped and looked at him completely confused. “I want to be with you as much as I can. I want to be with you every fucking day.” You giggled, feeling the blood rushing up your neck and to your cheeks. “I want to make lunch for you. Well, no, okay. I want to learn how to make lunch for you. I want to take you out to dinner. And I also want to order in and watch a movie on a couch like we did last night. I want you to play with me hair because, fuck, that’s the most relaxing shit ever.” You bit your bottom lip, trying to contain all the happiness that you were feeling in that moment. “I want to go out with our friends and be able to show you off. I want to hold your hand as we walk down the street.”

“Jamie…”

“Wait a second.” He interrupted you, pulling you even closer. “I want you to wear my jersey at matches. And to cheer for me. And I want to kiss you whenever we win a match. In front of everyone. I want to go out and celebrate with the team, and while we’re there, I want to hold you close while we talk with them, and then be able to just walk home together and celebrate just the two of us. And I don’t mean have sex. I mean, that would be fun, but I meant like having a party just the two of us. Drinking, and dancing and laughing. Or we don’t have to go home, and we can just walk around town all night, like we did that time.” He became all serious all of a sudden. “I want to be able to protect you from creepy old men. Actually, no. That wouldn’t be necessary because you would never need to go out by yourself ever again.”

“Jamie, I…”

“Wait, I’m not done.” He interrupted you once more. “I want to be able to sleep over at your place and you over at mine. I want us to buy toothbrushes to leave at the other’s house. I want to wake up next to you like we did today, but I want that every single day. I want to have me clothes at your place and your clothes at mine. I want to drive Roy mad by telling him last minute that I’m sleeping over at your place, so he has to come all the way there. And after I’m done training with him, I want to stop at a cafe as I get back home and I want to buy your favourite latte, so that you can wake up to the smell of warm coffee every day.”

“Jamie!” You shouted, trying to stop him from talking.

“What?”

“Just-” Your hands found their way to the back of his head, as your eyes remained fixed on his. “Just kiss me, will you?” You laughed, before pulling him down towards you.

When your lips finally crashed against one another, you could feel the tension you had been holding in your stomach finally releasing. You pushed yourself on your tiptoes, as Jamie’s hands slowly and softly found their resting place on the small of your back, helping you up, and pulling you closer to his chest. Your hands played with his hair, and in that moment, you were sure he could feel your heart beating like crazy in your chest.

“So…” He whisper while pulling slightly away, only to press his forehead against yours. “Did you want to say something?”

You kept your eyes closed, too afraid to open them and realise that it was only just a dream. “I think you said everything.” You chuckled, trying to get some air back in your lungs.

“Well, if you wanted to say something…”

“Jamie.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

A/N: sorry, this was so long! so, if you read it all the way through, then thank you! please, feel free to leave me any kind of feedback and don't forget to send me suggestions or requests if you have them! thank you again! ily <3

[its-time-to-write]

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

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

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

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

wrote all your lines in the script in my mind

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

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

“I am not!”

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

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

You hate losing. 

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

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

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

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

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

Colin shut up after that. 

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

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

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

“I can be discreet,” Colin says. 

“And I can play football,” you reply.

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

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

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

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

You suppose you sort of have. 

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

You really didn’t like Jamie. 

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t. It worked out for him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah it is.” 

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

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

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

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

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

[pandorasprongs]

JAMIE TARTT | if it weren't for second chances, we'd all be alone.

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY: in order to advance her career, reader has to write a profile about her usual subject of interest: jamie tartt. if he'll let her.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: hello! this is one of my shorter one shots and not much to say about this one, but i hope you all enjoy and the title is from 'second chances' by gregory alan isakov!

"There is no fucking way I'm working with her!" You hear Jamie Tartt say from a distance, as Keeley looks past his shoulder with an apologetic look. You give her a small smile, but let out a long sigh.

You knew doing this wouldn't be easy, but you didn't exactly have a choice. You left your job at the Sun after finally coming to your senses when Trent Crimm left the Independent. If the execs were willing to let go of arguably one of their best sports journalists, what would that say about your own career?

It's been half a year since then and so far, you weren't having much luck. You were doing freelance work in the meantime — to be able to afford your rent at this point, — but you couldn't just let yourself wallow in pity. 

You decided to contact a popular sports journal, asking if they had any openings for writers. Your work experience helped boost your appeal, but they said they needed a solid portfolio to consider you. Since the Sun never really let you write actual sports-related articles and few of your tabloid articles were of substance, you asked if there were any articles you could join as a freelance journalist to prove your skills.

The only one they had was one titled, "Rocky Road: Careers of the Premier League's Up and Coming" and they had a particular player you wanted to write your section on.

Contacting Keeley Jones was the easy part. You've had enough interactions with her that your name was recognizable, so you were able to organize a meeting. Your first move was apologizing for every article you've ever mentioned her in, and then quickly explaining your predicament. The KJPR owner — having been in your place of being looked down for things out of your control, — was very willing to help you get your article done.

The missing piece was just the subject of your article: Jamie Tartt. Your relationship with him was similar to the one you had with Keeley, but you doubt he'd be as forgiving.

Your suspicions were confirmed by his reaction to Keeley organizing all of this for you. You had hoped that maybe he'd forgotten all the stories you'd written about his one-night stands, scandalous statements, and failed football plays, but obviously not.

You continued to sit quietly in Keeley's office, pretending not to hear her trying to calm the football player down. After a few minutes, the pair returns and Jamie begrudgingly agrees.

For a moment there, you're ecstatic and you start organizing your schedule of events. You’ve already written a short introduction, but the rest of the article is meant to come from the player and close sources. You're also supposed to shadow him for a week to get a feel of his current state as a player in the league.

You try and explain this to Jamie, but look up to find him taking selfies on his phone. Keeley grabs his attention, but a few moments later, he's back at it, hiding his phone under the table this time.

You finally have enough. "Look Jamie, if you don't want to do this,—"

"You're right, I don't." He finally looks straight at you and you hold yourself back from smacking his smug face. You don't care how many articles say he's gotten better; you still think he's the same prick you wrote all those tabloids about.

"Jamie, we talked about this," Keeley interjects. "It'll be good for your career and Richmond's standing for next season, if you do this profile."

"Yeah, but you couldn't get any other writer?" Jamie turns to face her instead.

"Look, she really needs this article," The KJPR owner pleads with the footballer, but that only gets him more riled up.

His gaze lands on you once again, with a smug look on his face. "So her career is in my hands?" He lets out a laugh, before standing up from his seat. "Message me if you find a journalist who’s more than a mediocre tabloid writer." Jamie leaves the room without another word and you slump into your chair.

Keeley tries to get up and chase after him, but you grab her arm before she does. "It's alright, Keeley. I didn't expect him to say yes," you admit.

"Well, I can try and ask the other players if they're willing to do it. I don't suppose you've written anything for the tabloids about them, right?" She asks jokingly, but you shake your head. The journal was very specific about which player they wanted. It's Tartt or nothing.

You get up to leave, but not without thanking Keeley for trying. She says she'll send Jamie the introduction you wrote, and you appreciate the act but aren't hopeful. As you leave the office, you decide not to go back to your flat just yet and let your feet decide where you're going.

Of course, you end up at Crown & Anchor. It's nearing 6 pm by then and you decide to just have dinner there. You send a message to your roommate about it, before ordering two beers and fish & chips from Mae. You really shouldn't be eating out given how you're already scrounging for jobs, but after the second beer, it didn't seem like such a bad idea.

It's 9 pm the next time you check the clock and finally decide it's time to go home. You see Mae walking over to your booth, so you pull your wallet out of your bag. "I don't have it in me to look at the bill, just grab whatever from here and let's call it a day, yeah?"

"Someone's already paid for your meal." She responds, dropping the receipt in your palm instead. You scrunch your eyebrows before she points at someone walking towards the table. You look up and focus your eyes to find Jamie Tartt standing there. He slides into the other side and takes the receipt from you.

Before you can say anything, Jamie pulls out his phone and reads off his screen. "After aiding in AFC Richmond's promotion back to the Premier League, it's clear as day that Tartt — like his hair with the blonde highlights — is changing for the better."

You perk up when you realize what he's reciting. The football player continues, "Keeley sent the first few paragraphs you wrote. I'm not much of a reader, but this is alright."

You give him a small smile, still trying to sober yourself up for this conversation. "Thank you," is all you manage to say. “How’d you find me?”

“I didn’t. Just ended up at this pub and saw you.” You shrug at that explanation before Jamie continues, "I'll consider doing the profile," Your eyes widen, but he adds, "Only if you explain why the fuck you were so obsessed with me at the Sun?"

That's enough to shake you awake. "I was not obsessed with you!" You protest, a little louder than you intended, with Mae sending a glare in your direction.

You take a drink of water and take a deep breath before finally putting it out in the open. 

"I have a degree in Journalism from Leeds," you start, prompting a confused look on the football player's face.

"The fuck does that have to do with all this?" He asks and you hold your hand up to stop him. He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything, so you take the chance to continue.

"I have a proper degree from a good school. I have watched and played football all my life. My dad helped me join a league as a kid because of how much we loved the sport." You lean into the table, emphasizing the last part of your statement. If Jamie had arrived five beers earlier, you doubt you'd be admitting this to him.

"I played the game up until secondary school when I started getting serious about my writing. I decided to focus on that more, but I only knew how to write about football." You look up to make sure Jamie is still paying attention and find him looking at you intently.

You take a breath and continue, "I started writing for my school's paper about our team's games and when I went to university, I did the same thing. I've practically been a sports journalist for a decade, so I can proudly say that I'm a fucking qualified writer. I initially applied to be a journalist for the Independent,"

"What, like the Trent Crimm types?" Jamie interjects and you nod.

"But they decided to refer me to the Sun instead. The only things they'd let me write about were tabloids. As in, if I wrote anything about football or sports, it'll get rejected like that," You smack the table, startling Jamie a little, and sigh.

"The closest I could get was writing about rumors about the players, but even then, I'd only really get a small part at the back of the paper. The first time I got a section on the front page though, was when I wrote that article about you. The one about you getting caught with two girls in a karaoke room?" You remind him and he flinches at the reminder but doesn't say anything.

"Well yeah, that one. Anyway, I realized that if I wanted a chance to become an actual sports journalist, I had to get my stupid articles on the front page first and my most popular ones were always about you." You try and gauge Jamie's reaction to that, but he's doing a good job at keeping a straight face now. Or maybe you're just too drunk to properly determine his features.

"So I kept writing about you, whatever bullshit rumor or story I could get my hands on. I'd usually add some things at the end about your football performance thinking that an editor would see it and say 'Oh, she knows what she's talking about,'" You drop your voice an octave to try and mimic one of the executives you knew back then.

"But after a while, you started cleaning up your image and I started to realize that no matter what I did, no one fucking cared. I'd never get a chance to write what I actually wanted there, so I left." You lean back into your seat and let out a huff. "And now you're all caught up."

It takes a minute before Jamie finally speaks up. "I'll do it." A part of you still doubted that he'd agree, but with verbal confirmation, you allow yourself to internally celebrate. "But you better make me look good, yeah?"

"Yes, I promise," you reply, nodding your head furiously. "Oh, and thanks for paying for my dinner."

"Sure. I'll ask Keeley about our schedule next week." Jamie moves to get up but pauses for a second before jerking his head towards you. "Also, my hair is walnut mist, not blonde. You better change that in the article." 

You wonder why this is what Jamie chooses to raise his voice about, but you agree nonetheless. He leaves you be and you sit there for a moment, still in shock. But once one of the servers comes to clean up your table, you finally get the sense to call your roommate to pick you up and share the news.

—

After a rough hangover the morning after, you check your phone to find a message from Keeley telling you Jamie changed his mind about it. You guess he decided not to tell her about what you said last night, much to your relief. You find another message from an unknown number.

I'm usually at the clubhouse by 10, so best to be there by then.

You were still too groggy to properly comprehend the message when another one pops up.

It's Jamie.

You save the contact on your phone before getting up and starting your outline. You already had a few questions lined up when you were planning the article, mainly topics that only he could comment on. One of those things is his career in the recent year.

After losing Lust Conquers All and being kicked out of Man City — arguably your biggest article, — there were fewer and fewer stories for you to write about the footballer, so your last few months at the Sun were pretty lackluster. You didn't have any reason to keep following Jamie's career, so you still had to fill that gap through your interview. But you decided to keep that till after you shadowed Jamie for the week since you also wanted to get the input of his teammates and coaches.

Over the week, you'd received mostly the same stories about the player. Massive prick, got sent back to Man City, came back and redeemed himself, and is now both a better player and teammate. It's nothing you hadn't heard before from second-hand sources, but at least you had direct quotes from his teammates for the article. 

Watching training was the more exciting part of being at the clubhouse, especially getting to watch the improvements of the Richmond team as a whole. They seemed to be more united than before, probably because of the promotion high. 

Your main focus was Jamie and you could tell that his teammates were right. Gone were the days of hogging the ball and only allowing himself to score a goal. He still had slight vibes of his old prick self, but you learned from the coaches that it was more of a tactic than anything. You even learned about their "signal," which they once did in a match a few months ago, you remember. 

For the most part, you had avoided Jamie, still sensing a sort of resentment towards you. You couldn't blame him; he was already doing you a massive favor and it would be rude to get mad at him for justifiably being pissed off at you. It was only ever slight nods and greetings in the halls, and occasionally glances during practice.

Only at the end of the week did you finally have a conversation with him again to plan your one-on-one interview. Well, more of you enumerating your ideas and him only responding in nods.

"Is Sunday okay? Keeley said we can use one of the meeting rooms in KJPR for it." You're double-checking the message from the CEO as Jamie fixes himself up in front of his locker.

"Nah, too stuffy," is the first thing the football player says during the whole conversation. "How long's it gonna take?"

You had already lessened the number of questions for him based on the information you gathered from the team so that only left a select few. You didn't want to underestimate it though, so you tell him around 1-2 hours, depending on his answers.

"Then can't you find a restaurant or something for it? So I'm not starving the whole time." He asks, and you bite back from commenting on his tone. This is for the greater good. This is for the greater good.

"Sure, I'll find a quiet cafe for it, so no one will disturb us." You already had a few in mind that you used to go to when you needed a space to write.

"Okay, sounds good," Jamie responds and there are a few quiet moments before the footballer says his goodbyes. "Have a nice night."

"You too," You move to the side and the football player leaves without another word.

You exhale deeply and wait for a beat before heading into the hallway yourself. You start walking out of the building when you hear someone call out to you.

"Hi! I didn't know you'd be here today," You greet Keeley, who's rushing down the stairs.

"Oh, I'm just visiting Rebecca." She explains, pointing upstairs. "How's the article going?"

"It's going fine." You answer.

"Just fine? If Jamie's being an arse, you can tell me." You laugh but shake your head. Keeley seems to believe you and instead tells you, "Also, I've already contacted a photographer for Jamie's shoot. I'll send you his email, so you can plan it out with him. And, if you need any additional information, I'm sure I can help fill the gaps."

"Yes, thank you," You smile at her when a question pops into your head. "Do you know if Jamie's dating anyone right now?" Your first thought is to ask his possible partner for an interview, but you instantly realize your fault. "Wait, never mind, I shouldn't ask. That's way too invasive. Old habits die hard, sorry."

"It's alright," Keeley's quick reply relaxes you. "But no, I don't think he's seen anyone in a while."

That was more or less the end of the conversation with Keeley as Rebecca finally appeared and the two ladies went back to the latter's office. 

—

The afternoon you're supposed to meet Jamie started rough. First, you realize you didn't charge your laptop the night before and now, it was completely dead. Next, your roommate had used up all the hot water, so you had to power through the freezing temperatures. Now, you're running late to the interview and sprinting through the street.

You finally get to the cafe and as you expected, there was only one other person there aside from the barista. You wave at the person at the counter, already familiar with them before approaching Jamie.

"12 minutes late," is all he has to say, as Jamie glances at his watch.

"Sorry, I just," you stop yourself from going on a whole monologue about how shit your day has been. "I got delayed, okay?"

Maybe he could sense you weren't in the mood to deal with his attitude, — when were you ever? — so Jamie instead informs you, "I ordered some food and the guy said he knew you, so he made whatever you usually get."

You try not to show your surprise at him paying for your lunch, but it wouldn't be the first time. "Thanks," The football player only nods, before crossing his arms. 

You open your notebook and the voice recorder on your phone, "Okay, let's start."

You didn't expect this interview with Jamie to be so... fun? 

You decided to start with the more surface-level questions like his expectations for the season, so it could break the ice a little. But after a sip of your tea ended up in the wrong pipe and launched you into a coughing fit, the tension was immediately broken.

Jamie started giving you more substantial answers and was more open about talking about his return to Richmond. How it really changed him, specifically Ted Lasso's effect on him and the club as a whole. You notice how soft his features had become talking about his coach and the team and you react with a smile.

After that and finishing your sandwiches, you shift the topic to his childhood and how it shaped him as a player now. You notice the sudden change in Jamie as if he's hesitant to start, so you reassure him, "If it's too much, we can change gears a bit. Talk about something else."

He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. There are just some things that I don't really want to share."

"That's fine. You don't have to. Just stick to the general stuff if you want." You pause the recording for a moment, trying to make Jamie more comfortable.

He pauses for a moment, before letting out a chuckle. "Do you think old you would be happy with letting me keep my secrets?" He changes his tone towards the end and you roll your eyes.

"Obviously not," you answer. "But I've been trying to bury that version of me."

"Why? You probably could've taken down the parliament with your skills." Jamie jokes and you finally break into a smile.

"Well, I never really used my skills for bigger and better things, did I? Just finding dirt on football players to make some money and build a mediocre reputation as a journalist." You answer honestly and the football player's expression changes.

"I didn't mean to be such a prick during the meeting." Jamie starts, but you shake your head.

"Nah, you had every right to. I wrote some pretty shitty things about you back then."

"Well yeah, but your life's kind of gone to shit since then, so now I feel bad." Your jaw drops and your eyes widen at his explanation and lightly punch him in the shoulder. Maybe the two of you weren't close enough for that kind of thing, but Jamie just laughed at your reaction.

"Fucking prick," you say in a joking manner. "Let's get back to the interview." You start the recording again, as Jamie recounts the first time his mum bought him a pair of boots.

He starts telling you about all the significant milestones over the years, and while you can tell he's holding back some things, — specifically about his dad, — you say nothing. It's the least you can do.

Maybe it's the fact that this has been the best part of your shitty day, but you started to see Jamie in a different light. Yes, everyone talked about how much he had changed, but this was the first time you saw it directly. You didn't even notice how late it's gotten till a brand new barista approached you about cleaning out the table.

"Shit, this is way past two hours now." You exclaim and check your notes to see that you've covered all the needed areas at this point. "But, I think we can end it now."

"Actually," you look back up at Jamie, who pauses to think. "Do you wanna get dinner? You pay this time," 

You don't have time to wonder about his reasoning for this and let your hunger take over. "Sure, but if I'm paying, I pick the place."

The two of you stand up and Jamie directs you to the door, "Lead the way," you playfully roll your eyes and start walking, with the footballer trailing behind you.

You head to a nearby Japanese restaurant, — one of the many perks of your flat's location — and settle down in a booth near the back. There were more people in this place and you weren't sure how comfortable Jamie would be being seen with you. You knew better than anyone how easily a scandal could be made from a simple picture.

The two of you pick out your meals and thank God it was an older lady taking your order who didn't recognize the footballer across you.

"Okay, why'd you want to eat dinner together?" You finally bring up.

The player just shrugs and leans on the table, "Thought I'd give you a chance to pay me back." You can't help but agree with that statement, so you let it go. Jamie continues, "Also, I'm interviewing you now."

"Oh God, don't tell me you're doing a profile on me." You joke and the player rolls his eyes.

He doesn't respond and goes back to his questions, "What got you into football?"

It was the first question you had asked him earlier. While he had given you a general answer initially, he added to it afterward, saying it was one of the few things he was sure he was good at as a kid. You decide to give him an honest answer.

"My brother and I don't have a lot in common. Didn't even feel like I had a sibling for the first part of my life. Till he realized I wasn't half bad at football. It was the only way to get a decent conversation out of the guy, and after a while, I ended up actually liking it." The moment you finish your answer, you realize you've never actually said it aloud to anyone. 

For a brief moment, you think Jamie would say something serious, much to your dismay. You hated having to be emotional in front of other people. It was your job to pry at people's thoughts and feelings, not the other way around. But after building your writing career around the guy, you should've known he doesn't fare too well with feelings either.

"Think he's a fan of me?" He asks instead.

"Fuck no, not anymore," you're quick to reply and Jamie looks offended. You elaborate, "He's a Man City supporter. Fucking hates your guts now, honestly."

Jamie lets out a small laugh. "Runs in the family." The lady comes back with your food and that puts a hold on your conversation.

After a few minutes of eating, you finally break the silence. "You know I never actually hated you, right?"

Mid-slurp, Jamie looks up with a look of disbelief. "Really? You wrote all those articles and still don't hate me?"

"Yes!" You defend yourself. "I told you before. I did it for the job, nothing more. And objectively, you were a great player. You honestly have more of a reason to hate me than I do."

Jamie scoffs. "I don't hate you either. Annoyed? Yeah. Pissed off? Most of the time, but I never hated you."

You had already gotten pretty good at hiding your surprise about these revelations. "Well, I guess that settles it. We don't hate each other." You stick out your hand and Jamie looks at you in confusion for a section, before shaking it. The two of you laugh and continue your meal.

After paying, you end the night there and wave goodbye to Jamie outside the restaurant. If you from a year ago saw you hanging out with the footballer, she would've thought you'd lost your mind.

As you head back home, you have this weird feeling in your chest. Your whole job was finding ways to express things through words, but even then, you couldn't figure this one out. It's only when you get home and re-listen to your recording filled with jokes and exchanges that you realize.

You may or may not be developing a crush on the football player.

—

You hadn't physically seen Jamie since the photoshoot a few days after your interview and dinner with him. 

You didn’t have a reason to anymore, since you had pretty much finished the whole article and already handed it to the editor for proofreading. They sent it back with minor notes, — just some grammar slip-ups and possible rephrasing, — which gave you hope that you might end up with a job when this is all over.

Getting the profile approved also gave you a chance to message Jamie after weeks of no contact, just to ask for his opinion on things. You didn't know if it was nerves or excitement making that pit in your stomach waiting for him to reply. All he had to say about the article was that he was glad you changed the "blonde" line in the introduction. Luckily though, it didn't end there. After that, he asked you what you thought of his new locker set-up.

That was the first of many times he would shift the conversation to random topics. You started spending your mornings and nights just messaging the football player. Sometimes he'd send pictures from training, saying it's extra material for the article and sometimes you'd send pictures from the cafe where you're writing, joking that you had new ideas for Jamie-related articles to send to the su!z

And when the rankings about the upcoming season came out and put AFC Richmond last, your first thought was to message him.

Fuck the pundits, honestly. You knew he didn't need any context, but you didn't expect Jamie to answer so quickly considering he was supposed to be at training.

I'm not worried. It's just poopy. You're not entirely sure what that meant, but at least it didn't seem to affect him so much.

I'm glad, then. You wait for a beat before sending another message. I know you'll do great this season. Why were you so nervous sending that? God, it felt like you were 15 again.

Thanks. Pretty sure 'tabloid writer you' is rolling in her grave.

You laugh to yourself as you reply. God, her head would be spinning knowing how I'm contributing to your already massive ego.

Jamie just sends a picture of him looking mad and you send one back sticking your tongue out.

A few days after, you send the published article to both Jamie and Keeley, along with a thank you for all the help. The latter answered sincerely, partnered with an invitation to the first game of the season, but of course, the footballer decided to answer jokingly. 

Over time, you'd gotten over being so worried about interacting with Jamie. He was just another guy, even if he was an incredibly fit footballer for his day job. And now, you'd get to watch him play in the first match with Chelsea.

Despite your presence being welcomed by Keeley, Rebecca, the owner of Richmond, and Higgins, the Director of Football Operations, it didn't take a genius to realize how tense the three of them were at the match. Their club was the underdog of the season, so it was understandable to be nervous about the match, but you soon pick up on a different vibe involving an ex-husband and internationally famous football player.

"What do you think, then?" Keeley asks you when Rebecca leaves to try and convince Zava to join her team instead. "Do you think Zava's worth it?"

"Yes," you answer honestly, from the perspective of a sports journalist and a football fan in general. "Zava's objectively one of the best football players in the world, and his track record of wins outweigh his track record of diva moments."

"Well said," Higgins responds and you smile at him, before turning back your attention to the game. 

When Rebecca comes back to your seats and explains the disastrous interaction, your reaction is the same as the rest of them: pure disappointment. 

But as the game ends with a draw, you can't help but celebrate along with the rest of the Richmond fans. It may not be a win, but it was more than most people expected of the club, so that was something.

You join the other three briskly leaving your seats and avoiding the press conference of Zava until you hear him utter the name 'Richmond' in his speech. 

"Holy fuck," you celebrate with Keeley and congratulate Rebecca since whatever she said to Zava seemed to work out in the end.

It was then that you felt a ping from your cell phone. You open it to find an email from the sports journal offering you a slot as a feature writer. You end up repeating, "Holy fuck," drawing the attention of the others.

Keeley glances at your screen and exclaims in happiness, "Oh my God. Congrats to you, too!" She goes in for a hug and despite still being in shock, you're quick to reciprocate it.

"Thank you, Keeley. Truly." Your face is just an expression of pure joy as you let go of her. As you continue to walk out of the stadium, you end up excusing yourself. Of course, you had to thank the main person for all this.

You find your way to the guest locker rooms and even from the hallway, you hear the cheering of the Richmond tram. They must've heard the news. You don't bother knocking and walk in to find what you expected: celebrating and rather sweaty football players. Well, there was one person who stood out.

"Jamie!" You call out to him from the door and the moment his somewhat solemn eyes landed on you, he made his way through the crowd to you.

"What're you doing here?"

"I just wanted to tell you that I got the job! I'm going to be a proper sports journalist." You inform him and his expression immediately changes to match yours. Catching you by surprise, Jamie envelopes you in a hug and you decidedly ignore his dirty kit as you reciprocate it. 

"That's great," Jamie says, as he lets go of you.

You smile, before remembering the news earlier. "Oh and congrats, too! On the draw and getting Zava." The footballer's expression noticeably drops at the mention of the other player, and you finally get it. "You're not happy about getting him, are you?"

Jamie inhales sharply. "Rather not talk about that right now."

"Okay, sure," You back off. "But if it helps in any way, you'll still be my favorite player on the team."

Your heart skips a beat when Jamie gives you a cocky smirk, one that you used to despise. "Yeah? And you'll keep writing about me too at the new job, too?"

"It is my specialty. Plus, you're infinitely more interesting than Zava and his avocado farm." The two of you let out matching chuckles.

The cheering from the locker room seems to have died down and there were fewer and fewer people in the hallway. That's when Jamie takes a step forward closer to you.

When you don't pull away, he finally staets. "I was wondering, if you weren't busy,—"

"Yes," You interrupted him and hope you didn't do so prematurely. "If what you're about to ask is what's I'm thinking, then yes."

"Oh, you're fine giving me dirt on the other teams when you start your new job?"

You stop your expression from dropping and force a smile, "Yeah, sure."

But your disappointment doesn't last because Jamie starts chuckling, "I'm joking! I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime."

You're not sure if you should be annoyed or ecstatic, so your reaction is a mix of both. "Oh fuck you, Jamie!"

The footballer's prick side is practically second nature. "If the night goes well."

You lightly shove his shoulders before answering, "Sure. As long as it's a private place. Those tabloid writers can be so annoying sometimes." You flash a playful smile at Jamie, which he's quick to mirror.

[iwritefandomimagines]

HE’S NOT YOU — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

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

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

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

“You comin’ over tonight then, babe?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

MASON: what time did we agree again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow. Okay.

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

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

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

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

“Will do, Kent, will do.”

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

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

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

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

JAMIE: ok, princess. see you soon x

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

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

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

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

“You want the honest answer?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

[time-is-restored]

by the way this is not gonna do the subject NEARLY enough justice BUT i do really wish there was more keeley appreciation in the main tags... like not only is she an Extremely explicit parallel for ted, but she's also at the heart of SO much of the show's themes - and you'd never know it from reading most of the meta that goes around!

[content warnings for sexism, sexual harassment, Locker Room Talk™]

okay, so like, in no particular order, here some of the criminally underrated + under-explored things we know abt keeley jones:

she has an almost identical social strategy to ted: being earnestly, and oftentimes defiantly herself, regardless of what assumptions it pushes other people to make abt her (i.e.: her description in the pilot, 'used to having her book judged by its cover'). and then, in spite of the ppl around her belittling her/writing her off, she STILL approaches them w genuine intent to connect + get to know them.

i think it was an EXTREMELY deliberate choice in episode 3 for both keeley and ted to give rebecca 'a compliment she's never heard before'. they're not merely skating by on small talk or doing the bare minimum to show their appreciation for killing the photo (which rebecca would be prepared for), they're subverting her expectations by going for genuine (if bemusing) compliments.

then ofc w keeley's s3 arc, you can see how she's trying (and slowly succeeding, judging by that nervous worker guy's attempts to start joking around with her) to get her PR firm's culture to the same, easy-going, more-friends-than-coworkers vibe of richmond. she even specifically asks ted for advice (and, again, i think its relevant that the advice he gives refers to his most effective team building moment - the ghost banishing ceremony). it's very important to her that ppl feel comfortable in her presence, and we can see her getting genuinely distressed whenever she struggles with this.

she says EXPLICITLY in that one exchange w sassy + rebecca that she freaks out whenever she thinks she's being abandoned - she delivers it like a joke, but she's visibly off-kilter and nervous while she says it, apparently still coming down from the anxiety of thinking she'd been ditched. and again, after the gala when she goes to (presmably) get back together with jamie, she says outright that she really struggles to ever break up with people - even people she's no longer interested in, like jamie! - because she second guesses her own judgement so much. on an adjacent note, imo the melt down she has when roy was crowding her was only as abrupt + extreme as it was because she had been repressing her feelings about it for so long. which is SO interesting in the context of her being one of the most upfront and outspoken characters in the show!!!! like. she literally contains multitudes!

and, also, while i do think there's some genuine critical analysis to be done abt the normalisation of what is, essentially, sexual harassment at richmond (it's... extremely uncomfortable to go on such a long tangent about how attractive a stranger's boobs are, even if ur also a woman), i think keeley's active flirtation + general horny-on-main behaviour is ALSO extremely under-explored. bc, in the context of her being a WAG, and also a model, keeley recieves completely unprompted + unwarranted comments abt her body all day every day. when sassy told her that her ex-husband used to masturbate to her photos, she's hardly shell shocked. it's pretty clear that that's something she's used to being known for, and being told about in gratuitous detail. in this context, you can really see how the way she leans in to flirtation, and talking about sex and the hotness of various ppl around her (ie: her entrance in the pilot, making a show + joke out of how she must Obviously want to see all of the footballers naked), is her way of pushing back against the way others don't respect HER boundaries. ie: 'if my body's fair game for everyone to talk about + sexualise, so is theirs!'. it's an extremely interesting coping mechanism, especially in the context of it leading to her oftentimes perpetuating the cycle of harassment herself. and then there's also how the locker room culture OF richmond involves a significant amt of talking about sex, past partners, etc - since she spends so much time in that environment, you can pretty clearly see how that'd influence her decision to go with the current, rather than against.

AND OFC. HOW could i get this far w/o talking about the sheer narrative weight that's given to her relationship with rebecca!!! not only is she arguably the first character to befriend rebecca (beating ted out by several episodes, at least by my count), she is ALSO the reason that rebecca ever tells ted the truth ('it would change how i feel about you'!!!!!!! AGH!!!!), and honestly i think keeley's disappointment in her is what leads her to finally accept that. sabotaging richmond is a cruel thing to do and she doesn't want to do it anymore! like. keeley's unabashed admiration of + love for rebecca, and rebecca's eventual reciprocation is quite literally the driving force for both of their arcs ('thank you for teaching this panda how to be a lion'!!!!!) and i just!!! i care them!!!!!!!!!!!!

tldr; keeley jones is a blorbo of absolutely apocalyptic proportions PLEASE let her into ur heart the next time ur writing analysis + meta....

[lunar-years]

roy and jamie and keeley are so hot together and i wonder what you think the public perception of them is like? jamie and keeley were into pda (at the gala, in the locker room, jamie’s pics of keeley lmao) but keeley implied that jamie would hate the tabloids invading their privacy. do we know how long jamiekeeley were even together for?? and then there’s roy who’s super protective about keeley, hates talking to the media, and threatens the paparazzi taking pics of them in s1. idk where i’m going with this but I’m just thinking about that throwaway line in s3, where jack assumes keeley’s talking about jamie when she refers to her “famous footballer ex”. in my head i think keeley likes the grand gestures in the public eye with jamie, but she also loves the private sacred moments no one else gets to see. it’s just really interesting to imagine what they’d be like when they all get together!

Ugh they really ARE so hot together aren’t they!!

Anyway this is such a fun thing to discuss. First off, I don’t think we know for sure how long Jamie and Keeley were together :( But the entire locker room seems pretty familiar with her in episode one, and as a couple, the two of them seem fairly established to me. Not as in like, a serious way necessarily, but in a way where it’s clear they’ve got a lot of trust between them and do know one another. Also, it’s been both long enough for Jamie to have fallen in love with her and for Keeley to have had the deep impact on him that sets into motion all the growth we see in him from that point on. So in my mind, I think they were together for like, a year and a bit. Pretty much as long as Keeley and Roy were together, honestly.

I think the two of them definitely enjoy being public-facing enough to like, have online fan clubs and a big Twitter Stan presence LOL and also they’d be totally pumped to make it onto like, top power couples and best dressed lists. And they both really care about ~their brand~, reputation and image in a way Roy just doesn’t. So I do think they like attending events together and showing out on red carpets and posting pics together on their socials!!

I LOVED that line in season one about Jamie hating the tabloids getting in their business. I think it shows that he respects Keeley, that in his own way, that relationship was special and sacred to him even when it was happening, and that he does have a line between his public and personal life. And then I think we see throughout the series that Jamie is (maybe surprisingly?) actually a fairly private person. Yeah he’s got this whole very loud online presence, but that’s very different than like, him.

So yeah, I think he and Keeley enjoy being public, but only when they can curate what they’re putting out there and have it be under their control. And Jamie would’ve fully supported and endorsed Roy’s smashing that pap’s camera on his first date with Keeley, lol. All three of them I think cherish the moments the world isn’t privy to the most :)

My headcanon is that they don’t go public as a throuple until after Jamie retires, and I think they wouldn’t couple off (as in, publicize that just roykeeley or jamiekeeley are together) when it means leaving someone out, even if that person is Roy who hates the publicity anyway. It would just rub them all the wrong and they all agree they don’t need to kiss one another in public that bad. So I think they keep the romantic/relationship side of things pretty private amongst their families and close friends, BUT I also think they wouldn’t hide being close to one another. The fans definitely know how close they all are, and they don’t try to totally avoid being seen publicly hanging out, in pairs and all three. Also the online rpf shipping community is definitely rampant lmao.

And I think there’s also an element of like, they want to be available to publicly support one another. Being totally private isn’t worth it if they can’t show up for one another when it matters. Obviously, Keeley wants to be there for all their games, and Jamie and Roy want to be at her work functions and events that matter to her just as much, and at a certain point, if people are gonna talk they’re gonna talk! I think Jamie kind of helps Roy come around to this way of thinking as well. Enough to where they can be a little more open with caring about one another, and hug on the pitch maybe a bit longer than they hug anyone else, and even joke about one another in interviews (okay, that one’s mostly Jamie), and not give a shit. So everyone is aware on some level they’ve got a deep bond, but they just don’t know the exact nature of that bond and rjk aren’t forthcoming lol.

[kvetchinglyneurotic]

I've got a headcanon of jamie having problems with food, not an eating disorder, but some kind of issues. Between his autistic coding (flappy hands et al) and the food behaviours which can come with that, and his growing up poor (council estate) and the strict nutrition plan he's on for football, I just see him as having a limited diet and some issues around trying new foods.

I can definitely see that! Like when he's little, Georgie finds a handful of foods that a) Jamie can eat b) she can afford and c) he can prepare on his own if necessary, and then just never really has the time or money to try expanding beyond that since she likely wouldn't be able to afford to replace anything Jamie hadn't tried before if it turned out he couldn't eat it.

So his first consistent encounter with new foods would probably be from school lunches — I don't really know how the football academy system works, but I assume the meals they eat on campus/at training are based around some kind of meal plan guidelines — and staying over or living with his dad. James seems like he would both have very strong opinions about what Jamie should and shouldn't be eating for football (likely without any scientific basis) and be a "suck it up and eat it anyway" type of parent when it comes to sensory issues, which is obviously a pretty terrible combination.

I could see pre-teen/teenage Jamie developing a relationship with food where stuff on his meal plan falls into the narrow category of both providing the necessary nutrients for football and not triggering his sensory issues, while anything outside of that is automatically unappealing because he's never really had the experience of being able to try a bit of something, find that he hates it, and not have to finish eating it anyway. Which could also contribute to his difficulty eating during his 3x11 depression spiral, as the prospect of seeing his dad again might bring up some of those negative associations with food and (at least for me) stress tends to worsen sensory issues.

[forsakenmissives]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi, coach,” he says with a grin.

Roy grunts back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, Jamie’s phone goes off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like twins, ain’t we?”

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

;

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

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

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

[charlesedgarcheesertoniii]

Feeling so normal about the thought of ted linking roy and jamie together from the start… roy was falling behind as a leader for the team, but also with his own love of football as his playing career came to and end. And ted saw that jamie needed a strong role model. We learn that jamie has always worshipped roy. And ted instructs roy to become a better leader, SPECIFICALLY by trying to lead jamie to be a better person. The end of Roy’s career as a player is linked, intrinsically, to the rise of Jamie’s career and therefore the start of Roy’s next chapter. Roy can only really become a coach through the work he does with jamie, which also allows him to open up in other areas of his life and become a better man. Jamie only becomes a better person because of what roy does when they’re still teammates, then with roy as a coach once roy sees Jamie’s weakest moment, and then his growth as a player follows obviously facilitated by Roy. They are cosmically perfectly intrinsically linked. I cannot believe this stupid show set up the most perfect star crossed enemies to begrudging coach/player to friends to lovers slow burn and fucked the landing.

[protect-daniel-james]

Absolutely want a round of head canons.

What are some thoughts that have never exactly made it into fics maybe but that need to be out there???

Oh wow, I will try my best to remember some of them, the list is very incomplete:

Daddy Abramovich - there are so many headcanons about him, most of them will be in the fic I am constantly working on, but lets just say he had a bad time in the army service, he is a survivor in more senses than one, and he lives by the motto "God helps those who help themselves". He is, after all, an optimist. Even now, he feels (imagines, dreams about) like he will reunite with Sheva, and have an opportunity to explain everything to his poor little brain.

Sheva - fears being kidnapped by Daddy A. Uh, yeah, sorry, we are going right in. And what is more, he fears being convinced by Daddy A that he did nothing wrong, and falling for him all over again. What would he give for the feeling of safety and guidance he used to feel once in his company!

Unai - he (canonically) cheated on his wife, but I feel like he did that because he is so Confused about his Emotions and Feelings and Urges and Sexuality. Like, I headcanon him as feeling frustrated and never understood/appreciated/loved for his real self, always struggling with his sense of self-worth, searching for what he thought would be The Love (or, honestly The Pleasure) - until he realized that there was only Football for him. And Football is his Love. I never really included much of his previous affairs in the enfermo fics because they are a thing of the past - but they are definitely part of who Unai is.

Lampardverse - Frank Sr. wasn't as shitty father as Franko likes to see him as. He did good things for Franko. He often didn't know how to express his fatherly love - because, where would he learn it? - but he definitely did care about Franko (and still does care about him) and tried to give him a good life in the old fashioned "my son is my heir" mentality. He rarely (if ever) told Franko that he loved him or was proud of him, because he expected Franko to know it from the things he did for him. Obviously, Franko as a child didn't really understand this - and he saw how ... uh, loving Uncle Harry was with his boys, how much fun they could have, how Jamie Jamie cousin Jamie and Mark adored their dad (at least when they were really young, I think Mark guessed something was wrong later on) - and he missed this in his own life and his own relationship with his Father. Nowadays Franko tries to avoid any contact with his Dad, and it hurts them both - because his father thinks he might have failed as a dad, and Franko is clinging to the "my father yelled at me when I was 12 and I never got over that nor have I ever told him that it hurt me" mentality. They just both sit in their respective homes, sad and round and aging.

Ange - he is very experienced when it comes to (gay) sex. I imagine he was living it up in the 1980s. I mean, look at his hair and moustache at those times. That man's moustache tickled a few inner thighs.

Pippo Inzaghi - he does get jealous of Mone, and then feels bad because it's Mone, his little Mone. Mind you Pippo probably doesn't realize that for like 20+ years, little Mone has been calling the shots in their relationship. Pippo is a little dumb.

Anthony Gordon - he definitely tried to flirt with Eddie Howe, hoping to be the special boy once again, like he was with Lampard. Eddie was weirded out by this. Probably tried to get Gordon to talk to a psychologist (I don't think Anthony would be up for that, he definitely doesn't feel like being with Frank affected him in any negative way). Eddie has no time for this bullshit. I think he would ask Jason what he makes out of the situation, and I am sure they would both agree that they would have never thought Lampard to be a creep who preys on young lads but then again....maybe it's not a surprise at all.

Also have I mentioned that Franko and his cousin Jamie fuck regularly these days? (we haven't gotten there yet in the Lampardverse fics lmao)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

What do you think about the fact that Jamie has not had a single confirmed goal this season? Correct me if I'm wrong but every time we know who scored (in one way or another) he never is the scorer, even when it's said he's been the match MVP. Is it going anywhere? Like, will this lead to a confrontation with his "dad" or something, or it's just a coincidence?

Hiya, nonny!

I believe you’re completely right about Jamie’s having no confirmed goals this season and it’s hurting me on a deep and personal level, but I – like Jamie, I imagine – am trying to focus on the fact that scoring goals isn’t everything and that Jamie is now moving into an even more important position on the pitch and in the team. (That said, it’s perfectly possible to play in his position and still score, and I’m really hoping we get to see that before the season is over, because as much as I adore seeing other members of the team get a chance to be stars, I am a Jamie fangirl through and through and I’d love for him to net that ball, you know?)

As for it going somewhere, I see two obvious possibilites (and there might well be many more, so don’t hesitate to add your own ideas to this):

Either it will pan out as you suggest, with a confrontaton with Tartt Sr. where Jamie’s new position and lack of goals are brought up as proof of him turning soft (and therefore useless). I believe we’re all expecting a Manchester episode, what with the trailer clips from Etihad and what appears to be Jamie’s childhood bedroom and Phil Dunster mentioning in a recent interview that we’ll learn a little more about Jamie’s background. I’d love for his dad to make another appearance, if only to see him get put down and – in my dreams – the whole team coming to Jamie’s defence. And even if the potential confrontation doesn’t pan out that way at all, I think it’d be very interesting to watch, so yeah, here’s to hoping. (I’ll be honest, I fully expected this to be episode 10 because of reasons, but from the admittedly vague episode description that now seems less likely.) And if the confrontation takes place before the match against Man City, Jamie could then go on to score a goals – or a few of them – against his old team, ‘causing his father endless pain and outrage. Wouldn’t that just be lovely?

However, it could also be that this whole thing is part of Jamie’s journey towards an acceptance of not always taking the center stage, not always being the best. Phil Dunster has talked about how a happy ending for Jamie would be a good enough ending, with Jamie realizing that he just has to be good enough, rather than perfect. This makes me a little bit worried that we won’t see Jamie fulfill the promise of being better than Zava, but that the payoff of his emotional journey this season will have him realize that he doesn’t need to be; he can be okay anyway. He’s good enough anyway. (Which is perfectly true, of course, but it can be true and he can still score some goals… right?)

Bittersweet possibility: the big final game is against West Ham* and it comes down to a penalty that Jamie takes – and misses. He’s obviously completely devastated and have no fucking idea how to handle the fact that he let the team down and fucked up this one thing that he was always supposed to be the best at. But! The entire team hastens to comfort him, assuring him that he is so much more than just his ability to score goals, they like him for who he is as a person, he’s an integral part of this team, and they’ve got him. I don’t love this idea, but I guess there’s something for Jamie to learn and realize here, about how his value as a person isn’t determined by how good a footballer he is and that it’s okay to fail and that his teammates will still have his back either way. Just a stark contrast to how his father always reacted to anything less than perfection, you know?

Not saying that this is what I think will happen; just playing around with possibities here and obviously it's all wild speculation. Jamie's lack of goals could well be coincidence, with no need to read too much into it. (But reading too much into stuff is kind of the fandom deal, you know?)

*I know there’s a case for the big final game to be against their white whale City, but I personally prefer it to be West Ham, because I want Richmond to win over City but lose the Premier League finale. (No, no, I’m not rooting for West Ham, I just think that Richmond winning the whole league will make it feel so much more like an ending and even if this is the end, I don’t want it to feel like it, you know? I want an ending that feels like we’re just leaving them for a little bit, but if we cared to glance down at the Dog Track, we’d still find them running around that pitch, playing their total football and having a blast. And if there was to be a fourth season, it’d be neat for them to have something to still strive for. And okay, that can be achieved by them losing to City but winning the league, but for Jamie related reasons I want them to triumph at Etihad.)

[harrumphingtons]

Alright, theories for tomorrow's episode... this got long, so this post is entirely just theories about the Jamie plotline.

The title "Mom City" is obviously a play on Man City which is making me associate the mom that will appear in this episode with Man City/Manchester in general so... Jamie's mum appearance?? Considering that this kinda has to be the episode with the Jamie's childhood bedroom appearance in it, I'm pretty sure we're gonna get to meet Jamie's mum!

As @gottagobackintime (sorry to have tagged you if I'm not supposed to do that, still kinda new to tumblr and I'm not sure if I should tag a person if I'm mentioning/linking one of their posts?) pointed out last week in this post, 'mom' is an American and definitely not British way of addressing one's mother, and it just have easily could have been called 'Mum City' if Jamie's mum is the only Appearance Of A Mother, so I'm guessing, like most people, that Ted's "unexpected guest" (episode blurb) is going to be his own mom. Fathers and sons have been a very obvious recurring theme throughout this whole show, and two of the most prominent father-son relationships in the show have been Ted and Jamie with their fathers, so it'll be pretty sweet to see the both of them interact with their moms this episode, instead.

Ok, so Roy and Keeley are going to be worried about Jamie. My first thought was that something's going to happen to his mum, considering the episode title. But it's more likely that his doesn't-deserve-to-be-called-a-dad is going to show up again, especially considering we (and Jamie, probably) never got any closure/follow-up after the Wembley locker room scene in 2.08 "Man City" -- which, by the way, that episode title kinda mirrors "Mom City", so that's another reason to assume Tartt Sr. is going to show up again. And, Jamie was (I think?) playing at Wembley last episode for the international matches, which is, again, the sight of the last know Tartt Sr. sighting, so... does that count as foreshadowing???

Is it just me, or does Jamie literally look like he's about to cry in the promo pic/episode thumbnail? Ok, I've thought he looks like he's about to cry many times when he didn't end up crying, so maybe he just has glassy eyes, or something but. Still. I've got a feeling we might get a Jamie tear or two this episode. We're definitely getting an emotional scene I myself am I going to cry while watching, though.

I'm assuming that Richmond is going to finally beat Man City this episode. I'm really hoping that Jamie gets to put in the winning goal, because I kind of feel like narratively that just makes sense. I don't know. I like the idea of it. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but we still haven't scene Jamie make a goal on screen this season! Considering his England call up, I'm guessing he's probably scored a couple off screen, but I also don't know much about football so maybe I'm totally off. But anyways, I really hope we do get to see him score a goal at least once this season, and hopefully more than once!

Adding on to the last one, I'm trying to figure why, exactly Jamie would be doing a press conference with Roy, and so far the only thing I can think of is he scored some super amazing winning goal and they want him to talk about it. Maybe he's pointing at Roy, like, "his extra training is how I got here"? But he also looks, if not about to cry, at least pretty upset in that picture, so I really don't know what's going on there.

My other, not Jamie-related theories for "Mom City" are here.

[belmottetower]

3.09 - "I'm flattered."

Another part of my Subjectify review that I am REALLY curious for people's thoughts on. This is following on directly from the killjoy post about Sam, Jamie and the armband, and it's about the moment everyone in the room apparently clocks Jamie as queer. This was something we both immediately enjoyed, obviously, but then my co-writer came to find quite weird in a not-so-great way, and I am still in a state of "What did that even mean?" I think Nat makes good points here but I'm curious where others are at about it

‘Ted Lasso’ season 3, episode 9 in conversation: Second-best way it could’ve gone

Natalie: Sorry to crush your joy. I’m about to do it again with the whole 10% gays in the dressing room moment, another bizarre choice regarding Jamie that I am going to complain about. Obviously we follow Isaac to the boot room for a moment, but we don’t hear much there before we cut BACK to the dressing room to follow up on the team’s mood after he leaves. I had high hopes for where this was going as they try to work out what exactly just happened here. Firstly, Moe assumes that Isaac’s reaction is because he himself is gay. It’s not an unfair assumption given the circumstances, and we – and more importantly Colin – get to see how the group would react when talking about a team member being gay.

I thought this was quite a clever way to show Colin that he was safe, all that kind of thing. It’s still not exactly a coming out on his own terms that he chose to do just because he wanted, but the stage was very well set for him. Of course everyone reacts well to Isaac being gay, of course Jan has a statistic, of course Beard pointed out the implication of that statistic. And now is the moment I get to stomp all over people’s happiness again by calling out how deeply shady I found the whole Jamie moment here to be.

This one wasn’t immediate hate, it was mostly a lot of confusion, and some delight at such an absurd response and non-denial. There’s a LOT of good things I have to say about the way Jamie responded to apparently the entire room assuming he’s in the 10%. But the fact that this was the gag – that everyone’s like, “Well, Jamie, right?” Oh, this felt very bad to me after a few minutes’ consideration. I’m such a fucking Zazu and a fun vampire I know, but like, this is NOT the same as a bunch of fellow queer people being like “Wow that earring, wow, that whole vibe.” This is not “I know what you are – one of us!” from a group of people in the LGBTQI+ community. This is “I know what you are – you’re not like us” from a bunch of straight guys who clock him as Other.

What the hell was going on here? What is the joke? What is the joke within their world? Is it how he dresses? Because spoiler alert, they all dress wildly. WHY THE FUCK IS HE THE ONE THE WHOLE ROOM THINKS IS QUEER? It’s so fucking difficult, because as a queer person I DO think he is queer. He feels like the MOST queer-coded player on the team to me and he always has. He is a CLASSIC bisexual disaster and every queer fan thinks so. So was this fan service? Is this Ted Lasso knowing that all the queer people watching the show claimed Jamie immediately and gave us a little nod to say “Sure, we get it!” Because fam, that does not come across the same way when it’s a group of straight footballers being like “Oh yeah, I always thought Jamie was a bit gay, bruv.” WHAT WAS THIS ABOUT, MEGAN?

It genuinely kind of concerns me that they’ve decided to be like “Oh, he’s clockable,” but in a straight guy “Oh well obviously he’s not one of us, the fruit” way. No one in that dressing room is thinking it that meanly, but like, what? Even Ted? Just… us as the queer audience clocking him is not the same at all as a bunch of straight dudes clocking him! For their presumed assumptions of what makes someone queer! What was the reason? Floral tracksuits? Hearing his dad call him a pussy? Of course my first reaction was like “WELL, NOT A NO!” and I’m also so thrilled he would say that even if straight, like it’s a compliment, given how his dad acts about him being soft. The fact he acted like that as opposed to being like “Fuck off, not me!” is beautiful. But WHAT THE FUCK, GREYHOUNDS?

Megan: Firstly, I respect and love you and your Zazu-ness. Or perhaps your Babs-ness, for an in-show reference. But yeah, look. Nearly every single person who I talk to about Ted Lasso sees Jamie and thinks “that is not a straight man,” but nearly every single person I talk to about Ted Lasso is also not, themselves, straight. So we are looking at Jamie, and seeing things about him – whether it’s tropes or style or behaviour – and thinking “Oh yeah. I see you. I recognise you. You are me.” But it is very different for a bunch of sports bros to look at Jamie and, with whatever well-meaning possibly internalised stereotypes they have, thinking “Oh yeah, Jamie’s the other one.”

I think this is probably meant to be fan service. That, as you say, it is meant to be an acknowledgement of the fact that so many queer fans who watch this have claimed Jamie as our own. We know that some involved know about this. Phil has spoken about Jamie and Roy it A LOT, and liked a comment on his instagram that said Jamie should get a boyfriend in season 3. I think that is what they are intending to show with this – “hey, we heard you, wink wink!” – and I think people who do have that valid read of Jamie loved it, especially because Jamie does not deny it! But when you dig a little deeper, the implications are not so good. Why you always gotta make me dig a little deeper, Babs? I mean Nat.

Natalie: Look, reductive as it may sound, them – them being the team, Ted and Beard, all of them thinking he’s queer because – what? He has an earring? He gets his eyebrows threaded? I literally don’t know! – is NOT the same as us thinking he’s queer. Like with us it’s the call is coming from inside the house. If he is NOT in fact actually going to be confirmed as bi, this is just a bunch of footballers being like “Well that guy feels gay to us for reasons.” WHAT REASONS? Because he’s very obviously been demonstrably into women!

Megan: And they don’t mean it in a negative or nasty way! But it would be based on the way he acts or dresses. I mean technically there are probably 25-odd people in the room. So 10% would be 2.5. We know about Colin and Trent. Maybe they’re thinking Jamie is bi and the .5. Maybe I’m overthinking it.

Natalie: Yeah, but no one here is saying the word queer or bisexual, no, someone else in this room is probably gay, and it’s probably Jamie! I mean maybe they all think he’s in love with Roy, because the way he acts about Roy is loud and embarrassing. Or maybe he’s always saying things about men being fit, casually, without meaning much by it. But we have never seen anything like that happen. We have to judge it on what they’ve shown us. Maybe this is because Isaac also wore a pink tracksuit and they currently think Isaac is gay and Jamie also wore a pink tracksuit.

Megan: It’s probably the Roy thing. Maybe they don’t think he’s realised it himself yet and they’re all staring at him waiting for him to do a realisation face about how him being obsessed with Roy makes him queer. One 3 second scene and two words have driven us mad.

Natalie: SO many people are DELIGHTED by this, like “Hahahahah they all know Jamie is queer!” and I’m just like…. “Okay, this feels very bad to me!” Even though I absolutely think he is queer! I think it’s a great response from him, given absolutely everything we know about him and his baggage with a toxic father. Jamie has done nothing wrong here. It’s just an INSANE implication from the other guys. And if it’s going nowhere, I also do not like to be pandered to. If Ted Lasso is doing fan service, like “We know you all think he’s queer, so here you go, a moment that acknowledges that maybe he does have a vibe like that, even though we don’t actually think he is,” they can keep it.

Maybe I’m not giving them enough trust, and next week he will just try to snog Roy because he can’t contain his feelings after his England call up. But if I was a footballer in the closet and the whole dressing room was like “We think you’re gay,” like. It’s not great! I would really like to know what the stereotypes are about him that mean these straight dudes who apparently haven’t clocked TRENT think this about him! Because yes, he may have expressed things! But we never saw those things. We only have like… what. Hair? Clothes? Vibes? Like what the hell did the GA think of that moment?

Megan: Especially if I was a footballer with James Tartt as a father!

Natalie: And especially if my COACHES were in on it! Look I have to move on from this, it’s so fucking weird. It’s so weird that all of this happens. And what’s weirder is that after all that, Colin steps up to clarify that no, Isaac isn’t gay… He is. Except we don’t see any of what he actually says because Ted Lasso decided that cutting away from Colin and only coming back to him in the aftermath was some sort of subversive way of doing his coming out. Instead of hearing what he has to say, and how he chooses to express himself, what parts he tells about his story or what happened with him and Isaac, we just cut back to Isaac and Roy – which is a very important scene, but like…They really think they did something here, cutting Colin. I think they thought it was meant to be powerful. It was not.

Megan: This is the moment for me which, unlike the other two you’ve flagged, I had an instant dislike of.

‘Ted Lasso’ season 3, episode 9 in conversation: Second-best way it could’ve gone

[lunar-years]

Even if we were to disregard the impact Georgie had on Jamie's motivations, I really think fear of his dad would have been more of a motivator than hate. Fear of disappointing his dad, fear of what it could lead to

YEAH. I totally agree with you. I think a lot of things about it and if I examine it too deeply I actually get sort of annoyed by the framing of it all in mom city (so I try not to think about it, because mom city is still my favorite episode, lol). BUT:

1) Jamie’s biggest motivator for excelling at football and becoming a pro footballer has always been himself! He fell in love with football first and then put in the work to continue making that his dream. It’s also expressly stated on the show that his dad doesn’t even come into the picture until he’s already playing AND exhibiting enough skill for word to have spread around town, allowing his dad to take notice. So! Of course there were other motivators, including his mom’s encouragement and his admiration for his idols in the game (like Roy) and yes, eventually the pressure his dad was putting on him/his own desire to impress his dad did play a role. But the primary motivator is and always has been himself!

2) for the vast majority of the show I do not get the impression that Jamie even does hate his father. Obviously there are moments when Jamie definitely does think “fuck you” (and those moments do increase as the story goes on and Jamie kinda comes more to terms with what he’s survived), but so much of the tragedy (to me) is how much love Jamie holds for his dad despite everything the man has done to him. Like, the way he acts in season one is because he’s chosen to go down the path his father laid for him rather than one of his own making. And a lot of his early actions revolve around straying from his mother’s gentle guidance towards his father’s abrasive one. At the end of the day, He’s desperate for his father’s approval, to appease his father, and to finally convince his father to love him back. And yes, I absolutely agree that wrapped up in that desire to be loved is a hell of a lot of fear. Jamie’s terrified of him!

3) notably, all of that ^^ makes him WORSE at football. In s1 he’s struggling because doing what his father wants him to is actively and pretty explicitly hindering his ability to play the game well and thrive. So like, he definitely doesn’t achieve greatness because of his father, but rather he achieves greatness when he’s able to let go of the hold his father has over him and lean into his own instincts again.

4) I think Jamie’s two biggest “fuck you dad” moments re: his father are 1. when he decides to quit football to go on Lust Conquers All (telling Ted he did it to piss of his dad definitely wasn’t a lie, but I do think it was only part of the truth. there’s a lot more mixed into it, namely [again] that deep-seated fear) & 2. Wembley locker room (where again, the act Jamie finally takes against his father by hitting him is accompanied by blatant, paralyzing fear.) Jamie has never hated his father without being terrified of the feeling. THAT is what’s going on in Mom City. He’s starting to realize that he does hold hatred/anger for his father and what he’s done to him and the grip that his dad still holds over him, and he doesn’t have a clue what to do with that feeling or how to feel it productively or where to put it.

5) a lot of the way they verbalize this predicament in s3 though feels like they’re weirdly trying to vindicate Ted’s season 2 comment that “having a tough dad makes you great” when 1. That was a completely bullshit thing for ted to say in the first place. 2. It isn’t at all true in Jamie’s case. He’s who he is in spite of his father not because of him.