thetarttfuldickhead

[thetarttfuldickhead]

before discord went down I was spinning a wonderful yarn about teeny tiny baby jamie football highlight reel (inspired by this), including such highlights as:

Baby Jamie getting flustered being on camera for the first time. Wriggling, doing sweaterpaws and hiding his hands in his shirt and looking off in ten million directions - only to beam a big sunshine smile when the interviewer compliments him on a match

Baby Jamie nutmegging a bigger kid and later on in the match getting pushed to the ground because he won't stop salting the burn. He gets a penalty, scores, runs around the pitch celebrating with his tongue sticking out

Baby Jamie being congratulated on scoring the goal that won his team the match and being asked about the foul that led to the penalty

Baby Jamie immediately calling the other kid a wanker

Baby Jamie going comically wide-eyed, slapping his hand over his mouth, and adding, "Shit, I didn't mean to say that."

Future Roy with his hand in a mirrored position over his own mouth, watching the highlight reel and trying to stop the breaking crests of laughter that are threatening to drag him under the waves of feeling fond over this stupid little kid who somehow hasn't changed a bit in all the ways that matter

[thetarttfuldickhead]

It’s not after every game – not after the very hard ones, and not after the very easy ones either – but it’s after enough of them that’t it is a habit, that it is expected—

1. Roy sits down on the bus, forgoing a place in the back for a random window seat.

2. Jamie enters the bus and plops down on the seat next to Roy, beaming at his coach.

3. Roy rolls his eyes at this unseemly display of happiness. “Don’t fucking fall asleep on me this time,” he warns.

4. “I won’t, coach,” Jamie promises, even as he leans agains Roy and rest his head against shoulder.

5. “Jesus Christ— What did I fucking say, your muppet?” Roy growls, even as he picks up his jacket to put it over Jamie.

6. Jamie doesn’t respond. He might already be asleep for all that he is still and silent and unmoving.

7. Roy growls again.

8. Roy puts an arm around Jamie (who still doesn’t twitch, although there’s just the tiniest hint of a smile curling the corner of his lips).

9. Roy picks up his book and begins to read as the bus rolls out of wherever.

10. The rest of the team go about their business, same as usual, nothing to see here.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

DANI ROJAS & SAM OBISANYA Ted Lasso (2020-2023)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Say it IS a Richmond Women's Team spinoff but Roy is their head coach because him coaching Jamie while dating Jamie* felt iffy but neither of them wanted to leave Richmond, so.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

I have this very clear image in my head that when it comes to Jamie in particular, Keeley is a hair fixer.

It’s completely involuntary on her part, but voluntary on his. He notices pretty early on that she can’t help inching things back into their proper place. Lining up the corners of napkins, minutely organizing the stuff on his counter until everything is equidistance apart. It’s not a habit that applies to the stack of shoes by her front door — if she didn’t have a professional come in and clean, her house would be a mess — but it applies to certain things, and some of those things are attached to his person.

When his hair is shorter it doesn’t matter as much, but once he starts growing it out and wearing headbands, he can see it eating her alive when he’s in disarray. He knows they’re both trying to, like, respect each other’s boundaries or whatever, but in his opinion it’s a bit like asking someone not to press a giant red button.

So maybe sometimes when he sees that sharp glint in her eye and her attention wandering up to his hairline, he’ll throw in a very casual, “How am I? Do I look alright?”

Just so she can have an excuse to burst into a flurry of movement, “Perfect! But actually, your hair’s a bit- here, let me fix-“

These days, it’s completely unthinking on both their parts- him tilting his head towards her, and her automatically adjusting his bangs, or resetting his headband where it’s slid sideways, or making sure his dangly earring is facing the right way.

He likes the attention. He likes the careful touch of her fingers sliding through his hair, and the way that she beams after he’s let her set him back to rights. He likes being someone’s worth fixing.

He likes being Keeley’s.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Premier League teams being approached to participate in an anti-bullying campaign and Jamie and Nate somewhat suprisingly volunteering to do a bit for Richmond together. And like that’s… nice?... but. Eh. Nate makes some sense, sure, even if his track record of treating others well has been – ahem – bumpy, but Jamie…

“Jamie bullied people,” Jan Maas is predictably the one to eventually point out while everyone else is thinking of how to bring that up. “Everybody knows that. I know that, and I wasn’t even on the team when it happened.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe,” Keeley says apologetically. “It’s a really nice thought, but you do have a bit of a reputation and—“

“No, but that’s the point, babe,” Jamie says eagerly, not deterred in the slightest. “Nate and me, we know what it’s like being shit to others, yeah? So we figured, maybe we talk about that, like what made us start being shit, and what made us stop, and maybe it’ll help others figure out how to stop people from being shit? Or if you are a bully, how to fucking get your shit together and stop being a prick.”

“That’s right,” Nate agrees. He’s both very nervous and very keen. “We thought it might be a, a new perspective.” He and Jamie’s had some initially awkward but good conversations about that since Nate came back to Richmond (touching on how devastatingly easy it can be to slip from bullied to bully, the enabling silence or active support of the crowd, and learning new ways to feel big without making others feel small). Once they heard about the campaign they started talking about maybe taping such a conversation, put it out there, see if it can be of some use.

And Keeley asks them if they are sure (and Roy asks Jamie the same at some lenght) because that’s some pretty personal stuff they want to put out there, and there might be a backlash, but they’re both determined. “It’s taking responsibility, like,” Jamie notes. “Making amends, yeah?”

And of course there is some backlash, because when is there not in this loud and polyphonic world, but mostly their rather heartfelt and earnest talk is received very well.  

(This whole thing maybe also leads to Jamie and Sam actually talking about the stuff that went down when they both first came to Richmond, because for all that they’re great friends now, they haven’t ever really touched that. Hey, maybe Colin and Isaac do some soul-searching too! Lots of fun introspection for everyone!)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Ted finds him when the party has calmed down, just a smidge. (For a given value of ‘calmed down’: Colin’s singing along to some old Cher tune at the top of his lungs; Sam’s wearing a sparkling feather boa gifted to him by an ecstatic drag queen; Jan and Moe is locked into a heated debate over the European Union that is somehow also almost a rap battle and involves doing shots while several rapt onlookers cheer them on. Still, it’s fairly quiet compared to the utter euphoria of the first few hours after the penalty that gave them their promotion.)

Jamie’s slipped away to take a leak and make sure his hair is still on point (it is) and his nose is still okay (it is), and on his way back to the crowd he pauses for a moment, lingering by the door to take it all in, the noise, the laughter, the glowing faces of his teammates under the fluorescent lights. That’s where Ted finds him, walking up with a smile and offering him a bottle of beer.

”That was a real nice thing you did out there, handing that penalty over to Dani,” the gaffer offers without preamble. “A bold call, but a good one.” He pauses for a moment. “Can’t have been easy, giving up the opportunity to get us through to take a chance like that. ‘Cause I’m assuming you didn’t do it on account of being worried you were going to miss?”

And Jamie scoffs because really, he isn’t going to miss a penalty, is he? But the scoff is a passing thing, easily shrugged off, because he knows that Ted knows that, too. And it was a good call, and contrary to what Ted suggests, a strangely easy one to make.

It’d just seemed right. Pay it forward, like.

So he shrugs. Has a sip of the beer Ted’s handed him. “Yeah, well. Knew he could do it, didn’t I. I mean, I know he’s been all up in his head about poor Earl, that was some proper bad luck, that was, but. Sometimes you just need someone to believe in you, do you know what I mean? Get a second chance.”

He throws a furtive look at Ted, wondering if the gaffer gets what he’s getting at, or if Jamie has to spell it out, which he fucking won’t.

It seems Ted does get it, though, because his smile is knowing; pleased. “I couldn’t agree more. Always nice, though, seeing people make the most of the chances they’re given, right? Makes you darn proud of them.”

And that. Ah. That aches, a little, but not badly. Not the pain of a kick to the ribs, but the tingling, warming pain of blood flowing back into a numb limb.

Jamie lets go of a long breath. Clears his throat. “Yeah. I mean, I guess so, yeah.”

“Yeah, well, I know so.” Ted nods to the dance floor where Dixon’s just taking his shirt off and waving it over his head. Dani’s beaming at him and applauding like Dixon’s some rock star or something. “All right, you go on now and scoot your butt over there. Go celebrate with your team.”

“Yeah. I will, yeah.” But Jamie doesn’t move just yet; he pauses for a moment, hesitating. “Thanks, Coach. For. Well. Just thanks, I guess.”

Ted just shakes his head, still smiling. “Nah. Don’t mention it. All I need from you tonight is for you to have the best gosh damned night you’ve had all year, okay? You sure do deserve it.”

And well, gaffer’s got a point, don’t he? And it’d be selfish of Jamie to disappoint him now, right, so Jamie grins and throws back his beer and sets out to do as told.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Obviously Jamie is primarly pissed that Roy turned out to be a bitter old* man, a nasty bastard, and a general disappointment (who inexplicably** likes Sam better than Jamie), but don’t you think that the sight of Roy – old, bitter and slowing – also freaks Jamie the fuck out?

Say that Jamie’s idolized Roy since he was a kid; say that they’re enough alike that Jamie will understand exactly why Roy is dealing so very badly with nearing the end of his career… Say that Jamie looks at Roy and sees his own future looming and it leaves him spooked enough that he immediately sets about trying to (futilely) distance himself as far as possible from that.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

@giftober 2024 Day 11: Orange

Bonus: 

[thetarttfuldickhead]

(x)

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Yo, English speakers, quick help? If someone's in the row behind you on a plane they're a row behind you, but if they're in the row in front of you they are a row ahead of you? Before you? Or what? Please help, I have forgotten all the words.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

RoyJamieKeeley social media manager always hyping up bi4bi4bi RoyJamieKeeley IKTR!! happy bi visibility day to them but even more importantly happy bi visibility day to ME

[thetarttfuldickhead]

RoyJamieKeeley really do give me everything like they are really giving enemies to lovers & rivals to lovers & friends to lovers & tragic exes reconnecting & mutual pining & unrequited love but surprise! not actually! & love triangle where they all get together & workplace romance & a threesome could fix them (no really it can) & soulmates & twin flames & angst with a happy ending &…

[thetarttfuldickhead]

[thetarttfuldickhead]

#the writers might not have known they were dropping ot3 endgame hints but i sure picked up on them anyways #death of the author babeyyy

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Roy had, he realizes, half-expected this to happen. He must have suspected on some level that their trip up to Manchester to face off against City would see a repeat of last season’s illicit night-time outing, because when he catches sight of Jamie surreptitiously slinking away from the team movie night just as the film ends, he isn’t surprised.

Just rolls his eyes and huffs a fucking prick, before telling Nate that he’s going out and not to let any of those idiots cause any trouble.

He can feel Beard’s eyes following him as he follows Jamie, out of the impromptu movie hall and the hotel, and into the chilly evening.  

Roy lets Jamie amble on for a couple of streets. Let the little muppet think he got away with it; it’ll make his realisation to the contrary all the more satisfying. Then, as Jamie idles on the pavement while waiting for a lull in traffic, Roy sneaks up to him and grabs his shoulder.

”Oi! Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Jamie startles, which is pleasing. He doesn’t look particularly concerned at catching sight of his fearsomely scowling coach, however, which is less pleasing.

“Fucking hell, Roy,” he says, having the gall to sound mildly reproachful. “How’s giving your best player a heart attack the night before you take on the champions a good idea, eh?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Roy drawls. “Is it a worse idea than letting one of my players sneak off and break curfew the night before we take on the champions?”

Jamie snorts, unimpressed at his coach’s careful omission of the best. Shrugging out of Roy’s grip, he starts walking again. “Weren’t going to get into any trouble or nothing,” he says airily. “Just wanted to see me mum.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Not exactly a leap. (And if there’s a part of Roy that had been concerned that Jamie might slink away to see someone else, well… No need to bring that up. There’s been enough heated discussions on that topic between them ever since Roy learned of Jamie actually going up to see his fucking piece of shit father in rehab.)

For a few moments, they walk in silence, through the chill October air and the increasingly distant rush of Manchester traffic.

“Are you… okay?” Roy asks eventually. It comes out hesitant and it takes all of his willpower not to smash his own stupid face in for how silly he sounds. He’s getting better at this, he thinks – the emotional shit – but he’s still not good at it.

Jamie cuts him a surprised look. “Uh, yeah? Awesome. Why?” Then his face softens into understanding, his soft lips curling into a silent oh. “I’m good, Coach,” he says earnestly, pushing a strand of his carefully styled hair out of his eyes. “Swear down. Just wanted to say hi to mummy, yeah?”

Roy nods. He’d thought as much, but… he’d needed to make sure. “You could have just asked.”

Jamie gives him a sidelong glance. “Yeah, well, but. You’re not Ted. Might have said no.”

Roy’s eyes snap to Jamie’s face, narrowing in incredulity. “And if I had I told you, specifically, that no, Jamie, you may not fucking run off to see your mum the night before a game, then you wouldn’t have tried to slip away?”

“Yeah, man, ‘course.” Off Roy’s sceptical look, Jamie makes a face. “Come on, Coach. I do everything you tell me to, don’t I? Even when it’s stupid,” he adds, not quite under his breath.

And Roy doesn’t know what to say to that because… Jamie is right, isn’t he. He does everything Roy tells him to, and while that’s… good, obviously, hearing it stated so baldly leaves Roy feeling. Well. Something. Not bad, exactly, but slightly like he’s on a roller-coaster and suddenly he’s weightless and breathless and with that sucking sensation in his gut. Or like when he held Phoebe for the first time, awed and terrified of all that frail softness in his rough hands.

He clears his throat, pushing that weird feeling right back down into the dark recesses of his mind where it belongs. “Sneaking out of the fucking hotel when I told everyone to stay in and hit bed before eleven is a weird fucking way of doing what I tell you.”

“Yeah, but that was like, general,” Jamie says, waving away Roy’s fully legitimate argument like an errant fly. “It’s different, yeah?”

“It really fucking isn’t,” Roy snaps, even as there’s small, strange part of him that feels that Jamie – inexplicably – has a point.

Jamie grins at him, then, “And yet you haven’t hauled me back yet,” he notes, exaggeratedly looking around them to indicated the more and more run-down surroundings, and sure enough, if memory serves Roy right they’re already halfway back to the council estate where Jamie grew up.

Fucking hell.

But he’d suspected this, too, hadn’t he. Known that he wasn’t really going after Jamie just to read him the riot act and bring him back in.

“Half an hour,” Roy growls. “Then I am hauling you back to the hotel, and if I hear one complaint about it, I’m making you run the whole fucking way and then we’re doing burpees until you drop and I don’t care if you’re too stiff to play tomorrow.”

Like hell you don’t, Jamie’s laughing eyes tell him, but all he says is, “Yes, Coach. Mint.”

Roy gives a curt nod. Mint. Yeah. Maybe that’s what this is.

At least it could be hell of a lot worse.

At least until Jamie asks, much, much too innocently, “So, Coach, are you coming with me ‘cause you wanna keep an eye on me or because you wanna see me mum too?”

Roy is grateful that there’s no telling if his cheeks redden in the autumn dark, and that his voice is as gruff as ever when he growls, “All right, you are definitively running back to the hotel, Tartt.”

Jamie sighs. It’s a happy sound. “Yes, Coach.”

[thetarttfuldickhead]

40 FICTIONAL FEMALE DYNAMICS 10. Rebecca Welton & Keeley Jones (Ted Lasso)

I'll kiss you on the mouth if I can reach those lips.