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benedictscanvas · 9 months

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pretty boy, pretty girl - jamie tartt x reader

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k

a/n: okay yes. it has been six months. which is actually mad to me, but there we are - whoops! i've been off following my dream and wrote this while procrastinating an assignment, so this is by no means a return!! honestly i was just itching to write it, but i don't know how much time i have for more - enjoy nevertheless <3

warnings: just a little bit of suggestion towards the end, reader is referred to as 'pretty girl' as the title implies amongst other pet names, quite a lot of swearing (some things don't change)

---

“Hi love.”

Jamie barely murmurs it as he walks past you, can’t help himself but to drag a palm along your back, one shoulder blade to the other, as he goes.

He knows he’s bold sometimes, but he swears it’s instinct. He glances back to see whether your expression holds any discomfort, but all he finds is your grin, a tiny wave. He continues on his path towards the canteen, knowing that your corridor conversation with Rebecca is probably important.

Somewhere between here and there, he decides to get your lunch, your usual, and sits alone on a table until you appear.

You do, three and a half minutes later. As soon as he sees you, the irrepressible urge to make you grin again is back with a vengeance. He waves you over to his table with a gesture to the food he’s got for you and- there it is again.

If he was a slightly smarter man, maybe he’d consider why all it took was the sight of him to draw your lips upwards, set your eyes alight.

“Thought I’d save y’ from the queue,” he speaks, still soft, in a tone he feels he only uses with you. You match his unnecessary low volume.

“Thanks, angel,” you say easily, and you must not see his stomach doing flips, “Too good to me, you are.”

“Shut up,” he deflects, wonders if you can see him fluster at your nickname for him, “Are you still coming tonight?”

You groan. He frowns, and you quickly correct.

“Sorry. It’ll be fun.”

“Yeah, you sound proper convinced, an’ all.”

You chuckle, taking a bite out of your sandwich and taking a pause to chew. Jamie eats too, content to let you think before you speak. It was slowly teaching him to do the same.

“I’m just boring, Jamie. My favourite people are all under this roof, but usually they’re sober, you know?”

He often forgets you don’t really drink. Your friendship (however sour that word feels in relation to you) usually confined to these halls, to the pitch, to various football stadiums up and down the country. When they all get a chance to let loose, you’re very quick with the excuses, but he’s believed them blindly until this moment.

“Shit, y’ don’t drink, right? I can’t imagine that’s much fun in a club. I won’t tell anyone if you happen to come down with an illness or somethin’ this afternoon.”

You’re grinning at him again, all bright and sunny. It’s downright infectious, so Jamie nudges your foot with his on purpose and then apologises like it’s an accident.

“You’re alright,” you reassure, “I will join tonight. Even if it just proves to myself I’m not missing out on anything. Maybe Colin’s not as bad a drunk as I’ve been led to believe.”

Jamie winces.

“No, he is pretty bad,” he admits and then finally comes up with something to make you more comfortable, “Hey, what about this? I won’t drink either and we can spend the evening laughin’ at everyone else.”

You poke his hand and he tries not to drop his crisp packet.

“It’s everyone’s ‘relax and recharge’ night, Ted said. We both know you relax much easier with a few drinks in you. And I’d never judge anyone for that, I really hope it doesn’t come across like I’m judging any-“

“It doesn’t, sweetness,” he cuts in, “But actually, I’ll relax better if I’m one hundred percent positive that you’re relaxing too. What better way than judgin’ everyone else, together like?”

You purse your lips thoughtfully, mid-chew. He feels like he’s holding his breath, like he’s underwater and you’re in charge of the oxygen tank.

“Well, see how you feel when we’re there. It sounds lovely but only if you’re still up for it when we’re right next to a bar,” you say, still unconvinced. He wants to convince you fully, but he can’t decide if he should argue with you or kiss you silly before you speak again, “Hey, if not, I’ll buy you a drink?”

“Pretty sure that’s my line, love.”

“I said it, I meant it. Girls can buy drinks for pretty boys, you know.”

He thinks you might have removed his oxygen tank now. There’s some cruelty in that sentence but you don’t know you’re wielding it. He wills himself to flirt back even though it’ll only make him feel sick.

“Okay, pretty girl. One passionfruit J2O, please.”

Another grin. He’s so fucking fucked.

---

He’s been waiting for you for around forty minutes. He doesn’t know if that’s the normal amount of time you take to get ready, even if he wishes he knew, so he just waits, leaning against his car.

After fifty, he decides there’s no harm in just checking you’re alright and haven’t slipped on a sparkly floor that an evening cleaner has done a number on.

You mentioned going to the kit room to get changed, and he meets Will on his way there.

“Hey mate, you seen Y/N?”

Will looks paler than he’s ever been. Guilty. Jamie narrows his eyes and waits.

“Kit room.”

It’s all that Will says. When Jamie doesn’t walk off immediately, still waiting for an explanation for Will’s strange demeanour, Will turns around and legs it all the way down the corridor, turns left at the end and never returns.

Jamie shakes his head and continues in the direction of the kit room. The closer he gets, the more he hears. Muffled banging, shouting. He picks up the pace.

“Y/N? Love?”

“Jamie! Jamie, in here!”

Your voice floats out from the kit room and he hurries over. Still very confused, Jamie turns the door handle and finds the door won’t budge, however hard he shoves his shoulder against it.

“It’s locked, babe. Did you lock it?”

He hears your exasperated sigh and feels a little embarrassed.

“No I didn’t bleeding lock it! Well, I did, when I was getting changed, but then when I unlocked it my side it had been locked from the outside.”

Jamie struggled to put the dots together. Had Will locked you in? Judging by the running, he had… and he’d done it on purpose. A spark of anger shot down Jamie’s spine but he tried to convince himself there must be a reason.

Before he could, there was a hand on his on the door, pulling him away. It was being unlocked by another hand and then he was being shoved inside, hard enough to stumble against one of the benches. A piece of paper was thrown at his face and Jamie groaned as he heard the lock click back in place.

“What the fuck?” he muttered as he stood up fully, more dazed than angry now as he stared at the locked door.

“Jesus, Jamie, are you alright? Who the fuck was that?”

“I dunno,” he says, staring at the door as if it might have answers. Your hand on his face wakes him up, his eyes shifting to yours where you look him over with concern.

“You’re alright, though?”

You ask it like you need the answer, and Jamie needs you to stop trailing a finger along his hairline either way.

“Fine, love,” he assures you, patting the juncture between your shoulder and neck gently until your hands drop to your sides. Then he raises his voice, and he’s not really talking to you anymore, “Whoever’s locked us in here as some kind of joke won’t be fuckin’ alright though!”

No answer. He picks up the small piece of paper from the floor and reads it in his head.

Tell her, you prick.

He’s actually going to hit Roy with his car. Lightly, definitely not enough to damage him, but enough to really, really piss him off.

This was all some ridiculous attempt to make him tell you how he felt about you? Absolutely not. Never. He wouldn’t be coerced into something so delicate, so important.

“What’s it say?”

You’re peering over the top of the paper, but he folds it in two before you can read anything. His chuckle comes out strained.

“It says: Get fucking pranked. Must be Roy, he’s probably scared Will into helpin’ him, the fucker. I’m afraid it’s payback for putting all his socks on the ceiling last week, babe, an’ you’ve been caught in the middle.”

You pause, staring at your shoes. For some reason, you look far more forlorn than the situation calls for, but it’s gone before he can think about it further.

“On the ceiling?”

He nods and you giggle. It’s only as you step away from him in your laughter that he realises how close you had been. He should’ve savoured it.

It’s also only as you step away that Jamie finally gets a glimpse of your outfit and nearly reaches out to the nearby bench for strength. He’s never seen you in a v-neck anything before, let alone a dress, and he thinks it might do him in.

“You look good,” he says lamely, then tries again, “Great. Fan-fuckin’-tastic, I mean.”

“I like that last one,” you smile, ducking your head. He thinks, or rather hopes, you’re a little flustered, “Fan-fuckin’-tastic happens to be what I was going for.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, words gone as soon as he’d found them. And now he was staring. Shit.

“I like your suit,” you say, maybe breathless yourself. It must be his ears. You reach up as if you might fiddle with his lapel but just point towards it before your hand drops again. You practically fall down onto the bench you’re both stood beside and he follows, ever obedient, “Shame no one else will ever see it. How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

The suit isn’t for anyone except you. That’s what he’d say if he had any stupid bravery. He’s an awful coward, he thinks.

“Until Roy gets bored or Keeley finds out I reckon,” Jamie guesses, “Y’ wanna play I-spy?”

You sigh, but when he peeks at you out of the corner of his eye, you’re grinning your silly, lovely grin again.

“I spy with my little eye…”

---

It is around 11pm, when Jamie has not long fallen asleep against the jacket he had scrunched behind his head, that he feels your hand on his ankle. He can tell, as he wakes without opening his eyes, that you’re not trying to rouse him. The touch is light, feathery. Maybe an accident.

No, not an accident. It wouldn’t have lasted this long, and your thumb is drawing absentminded circles into his ankle bone. You think he’s asleep and you’ve reached out to hold him anyway.

He opens his eyes but doesn’t move. His legs are stretched out on the bench in front of him and you sit upright next his sock-clad feet, one hand on his bare ankle. You’re staring at a piece of paper so intently he wonders what could possibly be so interesting.

“This doesn’t say get fucking pranked, Jamie,” you murmur, and his hand flies to his jacket pocket. It must have fallen out when he slumped into a slumber. He’s sat up in a blink, watching the hand that had been so soothing, fall back at your side suddenly.

“I’m sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“No, don’t,” you insist, still staring at the piece of paper. Instead of whirling on him for answers, you reach calmly into one of the boot cubbies beside your head and pull out a piece of paper from one of the boots. You chuck it at him without looking.

He unfolds it with careful, if shaky, hands.

Tell him, you silly shit.

It takes him an absurdly long time to understand what the hell this second piece of paper means. Later, when the two of you look back on this moment (and you do so often), you’ll wonder how he could have been so dense and he’ll spin you a line about how too good to be true it all felt. But in the moment, he has no lines and no words, until your hand lands heavy on his knee this time.

“Jamie,” you say softly, through a grin that is so different from your usual that he could pass out. It’s so beautiful and so strikingly lovesick that he thinks he might actually be sick, “What do you have to tell me?”

“What?”

He feels dumber than he’s ever felt. But your hand is still on his knee and now you’re shuffling closer to him on the bench.

“What do you have to tell me?” you repeat, then you poke his chest playfully as you add, “You prick.”

He still looks confused, so you clearly decide the best way to catch him up is to kiss him.

You pull away after a moment, a moment of pure heaven, because clearly you don't want to kiss him fully until he's all clued in.

"Come on, pretty boy," you say, teasing, "Figure it out. I was going to buy you a passionfruit J2O. It's the sign of all signs."

He should be laughing at your joke, but all he really wants to do is kiss you again. And again.

Maybe again.

"Oh pretty girl," he says, and he feels the rumble of his low tone in his chest. He places a hand on your face, fingers itching at your hairline, "I'll tell you anything ya wanna hear, I swear. Anythin'."

He hears your breath hitch, but he feels it too, where the meat of his palm is covering your neck.

"Anything?" you answer back, "I could have a lot of fun with this."

You scrunch up your brow like you're thinking and he's so stupidly in love with you that he just tells you. Too-soon be damned.

"Smooth talker," you laugh, giddy, and you kiss him again. And it's so good that he doesn't even remember you didn't say it back until hours later.

(at which point, you say it back so many times and in so many ways, Jamie is certain that he's the luckiest man in the world. he might not hit Roy with his car after all)

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso x reader

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sophia-sol · 2 years

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Every year at about this time (...very approximately) I post a reclist of 10 short stories I particularly enjoyed reading in the last year, all of which can be read online for free. Here's the latest list, and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

1. Sestu Hunts the Last Deer in Heaven - MH Cheung Beautiful and odd. A story of what happens after you've killed the gods, the unexpected realities and the things you have to live with. I love stories about after the climactic things traditional fantasy narratives are about, and this one excels!

2. If You Find Yourself Speaking to God, Address God with the Informal You - John Chu Two butch Asian weightlifter dudes bonding with each other and then dating, and one of them happens to have superpowers, but the superpowers aren't the focus. This is SO charming!!

3. Two Hands, Wrapped in Gold - SB Divya This is a really cool retelling of the classic fairy tale Rumpelstiltskin from the Rumpelstiltskin character's pov, building out the world and his background and making him a sympathetic character with a specific history. Haven't seen a fairy tale retelling quite like this before and it's great! And I say that as a connoisseur of fairy tale retellings.

4. A Farce to Suit the New Girl - Rebecca Fraimow A troupe of Jewish actors in Russia, in a time of political upheaval. This story has such a good and powerful feeling of activity and forward momentum, and of the way a community supports people even if things are weird or complicated! I love every single character and how firmly they are themselves.

5. Sheri, At This Very Moment - Bianca Sayan The sacrifices you make to spend time with the ones you love - a snapshot of one brief visit together, out of two lives that only rarely get to align. Made me teary the first time I read it!

6. Spirochete - Anneke Schwob An engaging second-person pov story about possession and identity. It has such a great sense of timing! And the last line GOT me even on second read when I hypothetically knew what was coming!

7. To Embody a Wildfire Starting - Iona Datt Sharma Ahhhhhh this story is so good at embodying the horrible complexities of the choices people make in the worst of situations, that good and bad and divine and evil and just plain personness can all reside in one being. Also it's about a dragon society and the revolutionary humans who tried to make everyone into dragons, and also about parent-child relationships, and also about a bunch of other things. God it's good.

8. Obsolesce - Nadine Aurora Tabing Is it really me if I don't have at least ONE story about robots in my rec lists? (actually I just went back and checked and in multiple previous years I inexplicably didn't, maybe it wasn't me writing the reclist in those years lol) ANYWAY who wants to have sad feelings about robots again! I know I always do! In a world where anyone who has a physical body instead of having their consciousness transferred is more and more obsolete, no matter if your body is human or robot, what do you hold onto? This one has a real good melancholy tone.

9. Letters from a Travelling Man - WJ Tattersdill ....does what it says on the tin. Letters to a dear friend, from a man travelling for the first time to the unfamiliar part of the world that friend comes from. I love the sense of place you get from the letters, as well as the deep and abiding importance of this friendship in both their lives. Another one I cried over!

10. Texts from the Ghost War - Alex Yuschik Another epistolary one, but this time in text messages instead of letters, and between characters who start the story antagonistically! About mech pilots in a ghost war, and making connections, and finding things to care about, even when stuff sucks. I love them!! (also, I am inescapably me, whoops, it took me until I read some fanfic of this story to realize that almost certainly the story was meant to be canonically shipping the two leads, I never notice romance unless there's anvil-sized indications.) Anyway this is a really good story!

#annual rec list #short stories #short story recs #fantasy #science fiction #sff

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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OOOO what about reader falling asleep on jamie’s shoulder after a late away game (maybe they come along to games on the bus) and realizing how much he loves them

Thanks for requesting! This one is a lot shorter, but I hope it’s what you’re looking for <3

silent sleepers

Rebecca lets you come to games on the team bus. Well, you say she lets you, it’s really the team’s choice. She’s just the one who signs off on it. You go for Jamie, who gives you the window seat and holds your hand the whole way there and back, joking with the lads. You don’t talk a whole lot, but you don’t really mind. Sometimes Colin or Isaac will turn around from the seat in front of you and you’ll spend an hour chatting and laughing about whatever, but for the most part you just look out the window and think.

Life is busy, so you don’t often get time to sit without having to talk. It’s nice to be here on this smelly bus, holding Jamie’s hand because you’re both relaxed.

A voice breaks through your reverie. “Good morning, Mrs. Tartt.”

You look away from the window to see a grinning Dani turned around in his seat in front of you.

You smile. “I’m not his wife, Dani.”

“Not yet anyway, eh?” Still grinning, he pokes Jamie who gives him a cut it out motion where you can’t see.

You don’t notice and laugh, blushing a little. You’ve only kind of talked about the future with Jamie, and you don’t really think he’s the type to settle down like that. It’s ok, you’ll take him however you can get him. You settle into your seat, ready for an hour of comparing hair products with Dani.

—

The game went well, and you’re all piled into the bus. Everyone is excited, but so, so tired. The chatter has turned to a dull murmur as you hug Jamie’s arm, watching the lights go by out the window. He’s warm and you can feel him breathe, and pretty soon you’re passed out, asleep on his shoulder.

Jamie, on the other hand, is sitting very, very still. He doesn’t want to wake you, especially because you don’t usually sleep very well. He presses a light kiss on the top of your head and you twitch, so he pulls away. He looks at you, with your eyes closed and mouth parted, muscles relaxed after being constantly tensed. Hair slightly tousled. He could sit here like this forever.

He thinks about Dani’s teasing words earlier. Mrs. Tartt. He turns the words over in his head. Mr. and Mrs. Tartt. The Tartts. He likes how that sounds.

God, he sounds like a fucking middle school boy, writing your name over and over in the notebook in his mind, hearts in the margins.

In all honesty, you were one of the best things that happened to him. He’s not sure how he pulled you in the same way you’re not sure how you pulled him, but he supposes it’s good that you think you’re mutually out of each other’s league. It’s a little bit sweet.

You had some initial awkwardness about him being a famous footballer, but you worked through it. Hell, you two worked through everything. You refused to back down from a disagreement, with the mantra it’s not you against me, it’s you and me against the problem.

You were also funny. He swore you two were the funniest people on earth once you got going. He felt like you two could do everything together. He wanted to do everything together. A thought flashes through his brain. Our kids will be fuckin’ adorable. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that his brain said will instead of could.

You let out a little sigh, bringing him back to reality.

Dani peeps over and winks at Jamie.

“Ey, muchacho, good game today, no?”

“Yeah, yeah, good, yeah,” Jamie whispers. “Hey, Dani.”

Dani cocks his head to say what?

“Mate. You gotta play it cool, man.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Dani asks innocently. “I always play my coolest. I think it was pretty evident in the goal I scored today.”

Jamie rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about on way over here when you made that fucking Mrs. Tartt joke.”

Dani places a hand over his heart. “You mean to tell me you do not want her to be Mrs. Tartt and I have made things uncomfortable for you? Oh no, I feel awful.”

Jamie would sock him in the arm if you didn’t have a death grip on him in your sleep. He levels Dani with a stare. “You know exactly what I’m talking about muchacho. You know how hard she is to surprise and if you ruin it, I’m sending Isaac after your hair.”

Dani gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Fuckin’ try me,” Jamie grins.

Dani grins back and turns back around in his seat. Jamie looks down at you one last time and uses his other hand to reach into his left pocket. The little black box he carries everywhere is safe inside. He breathes out a sigh and rests his head on top of yours.

Mrs. Tartt. Yeah, it’s going to happen.

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

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writingforstraykids · 5 months

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I have loved your smuts I think they r absolutely amazing and so damn 🤤

Can I request a oneshot / drabble Dom! Felix x Sub!Chan with Chan having a daddy kink and is super cute and whiny and Felix just being a soft Dom towards him?🥺🤤

Maybe Chan has a stressful week and Felix took it in to his own hands to make him let go and feel better 🫣

It's okay if not! Have a great day ! <3

I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for the request🤭🖤

So cute

Pairing: Chanlix

Word Count: 553

Warnings/Tags: smut, fluff, soft!dom!lix, whiny!sub!chan, daddy kink

Chan's head drops back against the pillow with a relieved moan, jaw growing slack and eyes fluttering. Felix gently helps him rest his legs on his shoulders and hovers above him, practically folding him in half as he thrusts in deep. Chan's hands twist the sheets tightly, soft sounds falling from his lips.

Getting home today and hiding in his boyfriend's lap the minute he did let Felix know how exhausted Chan was. He had a rough week between being in the studio with Han and Changbin writing and recording and dance rehearsals. He desperately needed some love and comfort from the person he loved most. As they cuddled together to relax, Felix absentmindedly stroked his thighs, as he normally would. But Chan started squirming the higher his hands traveled. A soft , needy whine escaped Chan's throat and that was all it took for Felix to get them in bed.

After what felt like hours of eating him out and stretching him out with his fingers, Felix had finally been ready to take the next step. Chan's brain stopped working from there on, it wasn’t unusual in this situation. Felix always takes his time, giving his lover slow and deep strokes as he watches Chan's face contort in pleasure beneath him. “Does it feel good, Channie baby?” he checks in, voice gentle as he keeps his movements steady.

Chan whines in response and nods weakly. “So good, daddy.”

Felix smirks to himself and leans down, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. “Yeah? Daddy's making you feel good?” he asks. Chan kisses back needily, his moans being swallowed with each swap of their tongues. “Such a needy little boy.”

“Only for you,” he moans sweetly, eyes fluttering close. Felix brushes back a loose curl sticking to his forehead.

“My sweet boy,” he smiles softly and kisses down his neck, tiny licks and soft bites accompanying his journey down.

Chan whines beautifully, arching up against him. “Daddy,” he moans, tensing up as Felix hits his prostate. “Please,” he whimpers.

“Please what?” Felix asks gently and stops moving for a moment, making Chan cry out in protest.

“Please don't stop, daddy,” he begs and his eyes grow wide and teary. “Need you so bad, only you, please,” he rambles barely above a whisper. But he stays still, knowing Felix will take care of him in due time. He isn't allowed to simply take what he wants. Being honest, he doesn't want to anyway. He needs Felix to take care of him, to make the decisions for him and just let go of everything else.

“Shh, I got you baby,” Felix assures him kindly and angles his hips, dragging his dick across his prostate. Chan's jaw drops with a beautiful wail, body shaking at the intensity of the feeling and toes curling. “I’m gonna make you feel so good,” he promises, a grin slowly rising over his lips. Chan whines in response, the pleasure becoming more and more intense. “God, you're so pretty like this,” Felix groans, running a hand down his chest and stomach. Seeing Chan blush heavily and squirm just slightly from his words made his own heart skip a beat. His sweet baby boy is even more shy and excited about praise in this setting than he normally is. “So cute,” he giggles.

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itsmoonpeaches · 9 months

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On Medusa from the PJO TV Show: A Survivor and complicated antagonist

I'm not the only one obsessed with the version of Medusa and I know it.

She's beautiful, she's eerily calm, she says, "I am a survivor," and you feel that. She is the symbol for women out there who don't want to be bullied anymore, and more recently Medusa's head has become a symbol of women fighting back with the #MeToo movement.

But I'm not writing this to talk about Medusa as the Gorgon from the Greek mythos. I'm here to talk about how she was written in the PJO TV Show. So let's get into it, shall we?

Note that some ideas from this meta are expanded on from this Variety article where the writers of the show and Rick and Rebecca Riordan, speak about the changes they made from the book to show adaptation.

A victim of an abuse of power

In the Variety article, Rick says, “There are many versions from ancient times of what happened in that temple with Medusa and Poseidon and Athena. Who’s to blame? Who’s the abuser? What’s the real story? It’s fiction, but it certainly is important to acknowledge that there is abuse involved here. Abuse of power.”

Like in all Greek myths, there is never exactly one "correct" version of a story. In many, Medusa and Poseidon basically have a one-night stand. In some, they have a mutual affair. In others, it's Poseidon who seduces Medusa into Athena's temple, and in others still, Medusa is a victim of assault.

What most versions of the myths do have in common is the fact that Medusa and Poseidon had some sort of relationship that produced at least two children (Pegasus and Chrysaor). Most versions (both Greek and Roman) also depict her as a tragic figure and a beautiful maiden.

Athena is involved in earlier myths as the goddess who put her head onto the shield that averts the gaze of enemies. In later myths, she is the one who curses Medusa to transform into what we know of her today after Athena discovers her relationship with Poseidon on her sacred ground. Poseidon, of course, gets let off scot-free.

Depending on how you read into the myths, there could be a variety of different things happening here. So, I like what the show did. They made it vague enough that this is still middle-grade level like the books, but they also expanded on what the books couldn't because they are originally written from 12-year-old Percy's POV.

They basically keep nearly all aspects of the story and original myth possible. But in the end, Medusa is indeed a victim of abuse.

Her real curse is not that she is hideous and turns people who look into her eyes into stone, but that she is made invisible by the curse and she is not heard. Not one person can look her in the eye and live to tell the tale. She can't show her beauty, so she chooses to live with what she has. Even with a slanted hat covering half her face and eyes, you can tell she's statuesque (see what I did there?) and a beauty.

She chooses elegant clothes, pretty jewelry, a neat hairstyle, a hat that accents what you can see of her features, and red lipstick that makes you think she could be desirable.

But it doesn't change the fact that Poseidon had his way with her, told her he loved her, and then she was the only one left with the punishment for what happened between them. Athena cursed her out of anger.

Medusa revered Athena who is a virgin goddess, and of course, Athena would be upset when one of her devout followers is suddenly not a virgin too. Yet, Medusa mentioned earlier in her narrative in episode 3 that Athena never answered her prayers at all and never gave an indication that she was listening. So out of all the times she pays attention, it's to curse her for something she doesn't like?

Athena paid attention to Medusa when it was convenient to her and Poseidon left her when Medusa was no longer useful to him after she was cursed.

This version of Medusa is left to the wolves to defend herself and live with herself, a victim of abuse of power from multiple ends and from gods she thought she could trust.

Medusa and Sally Jackson

What I found the most interesting in episode 3 was the fact that Medusa sprinkles the seeds of doubt into Percy's mind that maybe the loving relationship he thought his mother had with Poseidon was not what actually happened.

In the Variety article, Rebecca Riordan says, that Percy has to think ‘What has my father done? Has he changed? How do I see myself in relationship to that?' while Rick says that “Percy can only judge his father by the wreckage he has left behind."

The fact of the matter is, Percy is 12. The book series is for a middle-grade audience, and the show is too. So people out there thinking "This could've been darker!" need to calm down and take a back seat. The books always did a good job of introducing deeper, darker topics to children. The show should stick to the same strategy to keep what made the original story so good.

But, what the show does here is make you think. If Poseidon could abandon Medusa like that, use her like that, then maybe Sally Jackson was abandoned and used too.

Her show story does a good job of connecting two women who had a relationship with the same god, connecting women who thought they could trust someone but were left to fend for themselves.

Look at where Sally Jackson is now at this point in the story. Not only was she forced to marry Gabe Ugliano to use his stench to protect her son who attracts monsters, but he is an abusive man both to her and to her son at least verbally. In the books, it's not suggested until the very end of The Lightning Thief that Gabe has been hitting her outside of Percy's POV. I've seen people forget that and immediately write off that Gabe wasn't "abusive enough". C'mon people. Just because Sally fights back verbally doesn't mean he wasn't still abusive in his actions in the first two episodes. Even if they decide not to suggest that he was also physically abusive to Sally, doesn't make him sneakily using her phone, demanding to ask why she has to use his car, and demanding for her to make food for him any less abusive.

Sally chose that life because the most important person in the world to her is her son, and even though Gabe is a total jerk, she convinced herself that she could take what he gave her because what he did to her was better than having her son being hunted and maimed by a bunch of Greek monsters because of who he is. To top it all off, now Hades stole her away into the Underworld.

Medusa, in a similar way, was left to fend for herself. She chose what was best for her, and lived in her new form because she could not change what had happened. She wants to save Sally too because she sees Percy as a boy whose mom was abused the same way she was.

Medusa's brilliant role as an antagonist

Now we're here, the main reason I wanted to write this giant thing. I saw a weird take on Twitter saying that Medusa in the show should not have been beheaded like she was in the books because then that negates her whole story and what she stood for.

Well, in my opinion, that is a shallow take on what the show's Medusa is trying to portray.

Medusa is an antagonist. In the myths, she is an antagonist. In the books, she is an antagonist. In the show, she is an antagonist. She gets in the way of Percy's path for his quest, she suggests that he doesn't need Annabeth and Grover, and that only she can save his mom with him.

In both the books and the show, there are hundreds of statues of people she had turned. Sure, some of them could've been attacking her, but there were a lot of people there who were victims too. I'm sure that screaming lady didn't mean to do something to Medusa, and Grover's Uncle Ferdinand? He was the only statue who appeared calm and collected and there was nothing to suggest that he was out to get her. He was only on his journey to find Pan.

Medusa has killed people, and innocent people at that. For thousands of years. And not just people she had to, and not a small amount. Then, she suggests that Percy let her kill his two friends who are children.

To her, Annabeth and Grover are dead weight because of their loyalty to the gods. Annabeth wants to be noticed by her mother. Grover wants to make sure the world doesn't end. I mean, they all don't want the world to end but I digress.

Medusa hates the gods. She wants to save a woman who is like her. She will protect that woman's child. But she will do anything and destroy anyone to get that end result.

A victim is still a victim even if they are a villain or an antagonist. Her methods don't make her any less of a victim of abuse. But that doesn't mean they are right.

So yes, when Percy runs away from her to keep his friends alive and she takes off her hat to stalk them around the room to turn them into stone, she does indeed need to be beheaded. There is literally no other way to defeat her. They can't look at her or they die. So they have to make her stop moving.

Unfortunately, a person like her with deep and complicated motivations would never change their mind when they feel they are betrayed. So, Percy did what he could to protect himself and his friends from dying.

Still, it's a poetic death as it is in the books. He mails her head to the gods and mentions Athena specifically for her punishment of Medusa. He's impertinent.

Medusa didn't deserve to be punished. But it's been millennia and she made her choices. The abusers did not get the punishment they deserved, but maybe now they will. Medusa's head in her (temporary) death, will be a testament to her victory, but also a testament to her downfall.

#pjo meta #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo tv show spoilers #medusa #percy #annabeth chase #grover underwood #sally jackson #poseidon #meta

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theflyingkipper · 4 months

Text

a short crappy essay about emily

The writing of girl characters in TTTE genuinely infuriates me. There’s a lot of girl characters who were done absolutely dirty, but it always comes back to Emily for me.

Emily had agency and attitude and purpose in S8-12 and it was erased in favor of a “hi. I’m nice. Im the girl character” nothing one-note personality. What do we know about post HiT era Emily? (And honestly, S7 Emily too. Her introduction is kind of weak in my opinion). She wants to help out. She’s safety oriented. She’s… I don’t know. You could replace her with Rosie or Rebecca or whoever in the cgi episodes where she’s driving the story, and nothing would change. I can’t name any major differences between Emily post-rewrite and Rosie in her entire tenure. Aside from how they’re introduced to Thomas and interact with him, really… which sucks. They don’t have major differences in characterizations outside interacting with a male lead.

AND the worst part is that there are moments where you can SEE they were crafting bold, interesting girl characters and they were either completely sanitized or forgotten about. Molly has a very particular basis. It's not a flashy type where the engine’s basis is the center of the character’s entire personality/marketing/etc (Mighty Mac and Hank come to mind). It feels clear to me that Molly was going to be more important. And then… she wasn’t. She appeared like 3 times, said nearly nothing and never appeared again. I wish I lived in a world where Emily kept her bossy personality and had this contrasted by Molly’s shyness and timidity.

In my perfect world, Emily is bossy and important, and has some complexes about not needing help or knowing more than others. She’s intelligent and rambunctious, feeling like she’s made for more than the fast express duties that she was designed for. She wants to be involved and get dirty. (Which is a sentiment that I think a lot of young girls can relate to!) Maybe this causes other engines to view her as childish, but we know it's because even if she’s an old design- she has youthful zeal. I think that's a compelling personality and character to make from a Stirling Single, rather than just making another “old wise sage” character (we’ve got plenty of those and in different flavors!) An old engine that's hard to register as “old” at all, though not like Edward, she reads like this because she’s childish and immature- Someone immature, but in a distinct flavor of immature than Percy or Gordon. This Emily has so much room to bounce off other characters, and she does. The way she acts in Respect for Gordon comes to mind. Emily’s bossiness brings a much needed shakeup to the monotony of seasons 8-12.

In addition, big, snooty, important characters are a staple of TTTE, but it's an archetype almost exclusively reserved for male characters. You could make an argument that Daisy and Elizabeth support these, but I think they’re different (or underdeveloped) enough not to fit this. Emily is the exception here. I think it's why she’s remembered so well as the female TTTE character that immediately comes to mind. Emily could be great, and she was great.

#the promised rant #theres a lot more i wanted to say but i needed to keep this on track #ttte emily #thomas the tank engine #kips cant shut up

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mossyivy · 5 months

Note

I’m finally home after lectures and can write oh em gee…</3

Leon and his wife definitely met through Claire or Rebecca. I don’t wanna go too into depth because the note I typed out was way too long to submit and I didn’t wanna make people mad with scrolling. </3

You had been working at Terrasave for a couple months now, you were running tests on a sample that was deemed to have a new strain of the T-virus. The door to the lab suddenly opened, and there you saw him.

The man of your dreams. You swore your entire world stopped spinning as soon as he stepped into the room, hell, there were probably little hearts in your eyes. He came over and greeted both Claire and Rebecca, offering you a small wave and smile, which made you feel all queasy and sick.

The butterflies in your tummy were going wild, having to excuse yourself to do something entirely different o distract your mind. After about an hour or so, Claire finally finds you sitting at your desk, sorting through a couples files and so. She inquires as to why you bailed on them like that in a teasing manner, you just brushed it off and said you needed to turn in something before a deadline. (Completely lying.)

Claire already knew what the hell was going on, she decided to tease you by asking if it was because Leon was handsome, which you immediately shut down, becoming all red and shy almost immediately.

From then on—everytime Leon came to the lab, both Claire and Rebecca would purposefully leave and make excuses so the two of you could be alone. Safe to say, it worked. 🥹

- Anon! 🎀

(I'll say they probably met after Infinite Darkness So like 2007?)

Claire would be coming in strong every time he showed up. Immediately starts introducing you the second time he comes around, starts talking you up.

"Y'know Leon, she has a PhD in Molecular Biology."

"And a bachelor's in Neuroscience!" Rebecca adds, leaning over the lab table. You look up from your microscope glancing between the two women, smelling their bullshit from a mile away. You know exactly what they're doing.

"That's impressive, you must have been in school for a while to do that." You shrug, trying to downplay your accomplishments.

"8 years..." You meekly answer, trying to go back to your work as Rebecca taps the table, clearing her throat.

Her and Claire make up some kind of half assed excuse about needed to check up on further test results in another room and leave.

The silence in the room is deafening. You could hear a pin drop as your stomach was in massive knots. Until Leon's stomach growls, making you sit up straight and give him side eye.

"Are you hungry, or starving?" You smirk watching him side step around the lab table and grab Rebecca's stool. Sitting on the hard metal stool next to you.

"Ah, starving. Haven't eaten since breakfast. Probably should get myself dinner." You nod, looking back into the sample you're studying and take notes.

"Probably... grab something from that new Korean restaurant down town." You glance up from your work seeing the sheepish smile he's giving.

"I... Heard it was pretty good?" You add, staring with an unsure smile. His stomach growls again making your eyebrows raise in surprise.

"You should probably go get food before you start feeling nauseous." That was already happening with you. God forbid it be the both of you.

Leon nods, looking a little disappointed as he stands from the stool, putting it back in front of Rebecca's spot.

"Yeah, tell them I said I'll see them around. And you too." You nod, looking back to your work again before turning back to Leon as he opens the door.

"Leon." He freezes, head swiveling back with a half smile. "It was nice getting to talk to you this time. Be safe out there."

"Thanks Doc, you too." You roll your eyes as he steps out into the hall. Yelling to him as the door closes slowly.

"Don't make a habit out of the nickname!"

"We'll see!"

The next few times he comes around the same routine happens, Claire and Rebecca talk you up, leave, you two talk little by little and eventually he leaves for dinner. The same exact conversation every time...

After a few months of this Leon comes in again, you're alone for once and Leon wasn't scheduled for anything according to your paperwork.

"Hey, what're you doing here?"

"Just in the area." He leans against the lab table on his elbows, not scared to get close to you now. Your hips are nearly touching by how you're seated.

"So you came to see me." You scoff, looking at him with a tilt of the head. "Or are you looking for one of the others."

"No, just you. It's nice with just the two of us." Your heart nearly stales in your chest.

"Really?" Your eyes light up looking up at him. He chuckles with a nod. You go back to your work as he watches silently.

His smile never falling until he speaks up after a short while.

"So..." You look at him as he looks like he's pondering something. He looks oddly nervous for Leon of all people. "That Korean place is running a special this weekend..."

"Oh? Was it good the last time you went?" His face falls, shaking his head.

"I didn't end up going." You stare for a moment, confused.

"Why not?"

"Kinda weird going out to eat by myself to a nice restaurant."

"But you... You said you were gonna eat there?"

"With you. If you came."

"When did you ask me to come?!" Now it's Leon's turn to look confused, standing up straight, his mouth opens for a second to stutter.

"I-I told you I wanted to get dinner..."

"But when did you say 'Hey, you wanna go to dinner with me?'"

"It was implied... Usually when I ask straight forward I get shot down immediately."

Who the hell would shoot this man down? Was your first question.

"You... You wanted me to go to dinner with you, all this time? Oh my God we're both stupid." Your head sinks into your hands as her leans forward, looking you in the eyes.

"Sweetheart, you have a PhD. You're the farthest thing from stupid. I could have just asked normally." You rub your face with your hands, looking back at him.

"You wanna take me to dinner?"

"Yes... Very badly. Because I think you're pretty and smart. I'd be dumb to not at least try." You chuckle at his compliments as you nod, finally agreeing to go to dinner with him.

An from that day forward you two were each other's.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #🏡 domestic life with leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies #leon s kennedy

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celestialtarot11 · 11 months

Text

PAC~ What exciting things are coming in your future?

Hi everyone! Here’s a new PAC reading for you all. Just close your eyes and choose what you feel called to. Today we’re featuring the lovely spirit quartz, opalite and labradorite!

Piles~

Pile 1~ 🌃✨

Hi there lovely pile 1’s! I see you made it over here. For exciting things in your future, I am picking up deep healing. A deep rejuvenation that you have control over, and this is such an empowering experience. If you are on this journey already, it must be tiring and overwhelming. Your feelings are valid and real. This part of your journey is helping you to empower yourself through the choices you make, and in doing so, you attract abundance and balance. In all areas of your life, you will find stability, peace, and joy within yourself. This tough part is almost over! Releasing the past is making room for the new. If you have been manifesting, you will be receiving them soon! For those who have not begun this part of their journey, you have all the resources you need to work through this. This is an important time for you to awaken to the deeper parts of your self that need healing, and love. Take care pile 1’s!

Pile 2~ 🤎✨

Similar to pile 1, there’s a lot of rest and nurturing energy surrounding you or will be surrounding you soon. I see you going on vacation, or traveling to your favorite spot to feel happy. I see a time of friends coming together, and maybe romantic partners for some of you. This is a sweet reunion time, and a time for reconnection within yourself, and others. If you have been resting and slowing down, good job. The cards are highlighting what amazing progress you’ve made. Walking away from what does not serve you has done you well, now you can celebrate how far you’ve come. Writing down what it is you want in your future is important. Manifest all you desire, its time to listen to your heart space. What’s coming for you, is all your dreams you’ve ever wanted. They are all here for you to experience. It is not a dream anymore, or a desire. It’s now reality. Time to receive it all. You are blessed, guided, and supported. I saw 222 when typing this, so that may be a significant number for you all. It has to do with reunions, soulmates, divine counterpart energy and balance. See you again pile 2’s!

Pile 3’s ✈️✨

Hi there lovely pile 3’s! What’s coming for your future is a time for rest. A time to slow down, and breathe. This is very much needed since in the cards, I see you are overwhelmed. Scared even. It’s all going to be okay. If there is a decision you’ve been pondering about, or felt scared to make the choice, it’s okay to slow it down. You don’t have to rush this, or make it right away. Take the time you need for yourself to breathe. Factor in what benefits you, and how you’ll feel about this choice in the long run. If things have been chaotic, they will slow down and even itself out. Taking a walk may benefit you a lot, you may even find answers. Your intuition is strong in nature I’m hearing. Spirit/god/universe, or whatever you believe in, is creating an opportunity for you to rest and slow down! Take care pile 3’s! Stay hydrated and remember to take your time.

🌸Cards featured: 🌸

Queer Tarot by Ash and Chess

Work Your Light Oracle Cards by Rebecca Campbell

Thank you all for reading, if it resonates feel free to comment, like and reblog! I am still taking personal paid readings as well. Thank you for the support.

#tarotcommunity #astrology #devi post #divination #tarot #tarot deck #astrology community #tarot reading #witchcraft #pac #pick a card #pick a pile

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security-chief-odo · 9 months

Text

To Love and Be Loved in Return - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 & 2 & 3

Roy Kent x Reader

Description: Between you, Roy, and Keeley, who will spill the beans first?

Note: Hope you’re ready for fluff because oh boy is that all I felt like writing tonight.

Word Count: 2.3k

• • •

Chapter 4 - Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Roy’s knuckles go white as he grips the wheel, trying to find his composure along the journey. He knew he would obviously see you again and have to reckon with his feelings now that he couldn’t just throw a pity party for himself over a rejection he hadn’t even gotten. One that he may not even get.

That little spark of hope that has only just crept into his heart might be the thing that breaks him. It’s that hope that has him imagining what it would be like if you were his actual date to the gala. It’s that hope that has him picturing you in his arms after a hard day at work. It’s that hope that has him imagining your lips on his after the team wins a game. It’s that goddamned hope that has his palms sweaty and heart racing faster than he knew it could as he pulls up to the club.

He pulls up outside the bar and sees the three of you standing together. Keeley is the first to notice his car and corrals you all in his direction. The excited smile that crosses your face as you notice his arrival is enough to make his heart melt. He can’t let himself read into that though, you’d probably be just as excited for an Uber driver considering how fucking late it is.

Of course, he’s lying to himself though, because he does read into it just a little. He does get his hopes up that even a fraction of that excitement was specific to him.

Keeley and Rebecca guide you to the car, perhaps using your drunkenness to expedite their matchmaking as they guide you to the passenger seat. It’s only when you get buckled and they’ve already settled into the backseat that you realize what they’ve done. You couldn’t complain too much at getting to be close to the man you had so clearly fallen for, but Keeley was about to give you reason to complain.

She is sitting behind Roy, so you can see the smile on her face as she begins what could best be described as a transparent attempt to make Roy jealous. “So, y/n, who was that tall guy you gave your number to earlier?”

Bummed at hearing this and completely oblivious to the mischievous smirk adorning Keeley’s face, Roy feigns casual interest, “Oh?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You whip your head around to reply to Keeley, not wanting Roy to think you’re unavailable, “It’s not like that and you know it.”

This piques Roy’s interest and he begins to steer the conversation, “Then do you give your number out to just any strange man?”

“No, not my number,” you clarify, “Beard’s.”

“What?” he asks, now more confused than he was jealous.

“So one time I was at the Crown and Anchor with Beard and some creep just wouldn’t back off. Eventually I relented and gave him my number just to make him go away. Beard told me to start giving out his number instead of my own to creeps. He gets to enjoy scaring shitty men and I get to enjoy a peaceful night with my friends with no creepy texts in the morning. It’s a win-win situation”

“That’s fucking brilliant” Rebecca chimes in, “I’ve got to start doing that shit.”

“So you didn’t find a date tonight?” Roy asks, trying too hard to be nonchalant about it.

“Wasn’t looking.” you reply more to the window than to him as a faint blush crosses your features.

He pulls up to Rebecca’s house first, and when she gets out Keeley adjusts to the middle, using the opportunity to finally see Roy’s face, and try to figure out if he feels the same for you. It doesn’t take long for her to see the softness that he looks at you with, but it will certainly take longer for her to get him to admit it.

“Since I’m taking her shopping tomorrow, you should probably tell me what color you’re wearing.”

Knowing your friend too well, you brace yourself for this conversation. Her lack of subtlety only worsened when alcohol was in the mix. “Don’t worry about it Keeley. He’s not bringing me as an actual date anyways. We don’t have to match.”

Roy is kicking himself for being so obvious with his feelings. Keeley could read him like a book and this was her idea of either teasing or being helpful. He hasn’t quite figured out which. “I don’t know yet. I try not to think much about that stupid event. If it wasn’t for a good cause I wouldn’t even go to the fucking thing.”

“But Cheryl would miss you if you stopped going.” She has definitely settled on teasing then.

“Fuck Cheryl.” he rolls his eyes. He is not looking forward to another year with her as the highest bidder. She may not be as bad as he made Jamie think, but the idea of going on a date with anyone other than you makes him feel sick.

“You would if she got her way.” you chime in.

At your teasing Roy can feel that heat in his face, “She won’t. I’m not interested in her.”

“But you are interested in someone?” she adds barely letting him finish his own sentence.

He growls, “I didn’t say that.”

“But you still aren’t denying it.” Keeley says with a smirk evident in her sing-songy voice. Though she is clearly taking this as confirmation he likes you, you sink into your seat hoping it swallows you whole. Him liking somebody doesn’t mean he likes you. Then she asks the question you’ve both been dreading, “So who is she?”

“She’s none of your business.” Roy lets out a huff. If he wasn’t certain Keeley knew he liked you before, he definitely knows now.

“Come on!” Keeley whines, knowing she won’t get her way but enjoying watching him squirm all the same. “Tell me who’s captured the attention of the Roy Kent.”

He has taken to ignoring her prodding in hopes that she’ll get bored or at least give it up for the minute or two left in the drive to her flat.

His hopes are quickly shattered by her adding “Is it someone we know?”

Now that’s a question he can’t answer. If he does, he’ll give everything away, and if he can’t have you, he’d at least like to not lose you.

Lucky for Roy though, you seem to have gotten tired of this subject too. “Knock it off Keeley.” you roll your eyes at her, trying your best to play at being casual.

The car ride continues in relative silence until you arrive at Keeley’s. She gets out and cheerfully yells bye at both of you. Winking at you both, though each of you assume it is directed at only yourselves.

Once the car is finally moving again, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. Even in your inebriated state, you can still feel the full force of the embarrassment Keeley brought on in her attempt to play wingman. You sigh, “Sorry about her. All of that really. It was pretty invasive.”

He smiles ever so slightly and glances at you before looking back at the road and replying, “No worries. Not your fault. I know she’s just drunk. She’s always a little nosy, but never more so than when she’s drunk.”

You both chuckle at how true that was. You can’t help recalling all of the strangers Keeley has practically interrogated on past nights out. “Yeah, she gets that way, but it is kind of my fault. She was just trying to help me out and she overstepped.”

You don’t quite register how revealing your words are until he parks just outside your flat. “What do you mean?” Roy has turned entirely to face you.

In this moment, you have half a mind to run out of the car and straight into your flat and bury yourself in pillows hoping sleep will make you forget this night ever happened. Though it must be true what they say about alcohol being liquid courage because you don’t move towards the door, but instead you turn to face Roy.

“Fuck it.” you let out a sharp breath and begin. “It’s stupid and kinda embarrassing, but I have feelings for you. She found out today and has been pestering me about it all night. I’m sorry, I didn’t think she’d bother you with it or –”

He cuts you off with a groan of “Fuck” but you continue, reading his reaction as confirmation of your every fear.

“That I’d be telling you for that matter. I didn’t really want you to find out, certainly not like this. Don’t worry about it though, I’ll text Rebecca and have her move me to work under a different department if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Wait” he cuts in again.

“I can even look for a new job. I like it at Richmond but I know this probably ruins our friendship and I don’t want to make things weird for you at work too. It’s really no big deal.”

Finally frustrated with your flat refusal to listen to him he yells your name. This gets your attention and for the first time since you started rambling, you make eye contact with him. “Stop talking for a second, y/n”

“Ok” you reply. You immediately failing at the request makes him roll his eyes at you.

“Please don’t quit. I have been freaking out all week because I’ve been head over heels for you for months now and I was finally trying to ask you out.”

“What?” you look at him in sheer confusion. Just minutes ago the man groaned in frustration at your confession. You never would have guessed it was because he returned your feelings.

“I asked you to be my date to the gala.”

“But then you told me it wasn’t a date”

Stumbling over himself he continues “Well – I – You’re the one who replied to me asking you on a date by telling me I’m the best boss. That one’s kind of your fault too.” He drops the defensiveness and continues on. “Then I asked you to lunch today, but you had plans already. Fuck. You don’t make it easy to ask you out.”

“I can tell because you still haven’t actually done it.” you tease.

He grumbles in response. “You’re right. Y/n, I am madly in love with you. Would you please do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

“Hm. Let me think about it.”

“Don’t you fucking dare start that shit,” he scowls and points at you accusatorily. Although he won’t say it right now because the last thing he needs is more smugness from you, that playful smile has his stomach doing flips. It is probably his favorite expression of yours. You look so unburdened when you’re having fun like this, even if it is at his expense.

“Absolutely. I’d love nothing more than to be your girlfriend Roy.”

Over the moon at your response, he finally realizes the late hour. “Let me walk you up to your flat. Wait there.”

He turns off the car and walks around to your side. He opens the door for you and steadies you as you step down. When you get up to your flat you’re barely not stumbling. Between the exhaustion, the heels, and the alcohol in your system, it feels like a miracle when you reach your door. You hand Roy the keys and he gets the door for you, his left hand still on your back to guide you. He walks you to your bedroom, finds you pajamas to change into, and closes the door as he leaves the room to give you privacy.

You call out from the other side, “Scared you’ll like what you see too much?”

“Shut up and get dressed,” he responds, his tone clearly light. He moves to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water and some ibuprofen, both of which you will definitely need come morning. He knocks gently on the bedroom door, “You decent?”

“Sadly, yes.” you reply. He opens the door and seeing your sleepy eyes light up leaves him in awe of you.

He swiftly crosses the room to place the pills on your bedside and the water on a coaster next to it. He pulls back the blanket on your bed and gestures to the space below it. “Come on, y/n. You need some rest.”

You settle into your bed and look up at him. “Can I get a goodnight kiss from my boyfriend?”

“Not tonight.” he replies as he tucks you in.

You pout at this response and ask, “Please?”

“Nope”

“Why not?” you whine.

“You’re drunk”

“And? It’s just a kiss. Why should that matter?”

He leans in and you think he’s going to give you your way, but he stops just shy of your lips and whispers gruffly, “When I kiss you for the first time, I want to be sure it’s fucking memorable.”

With that he pulls away and you're a little more turned on than you’d like to admit. The anticipation for something as simple as a kiss, has turned you into a sleepy pile of mush. Okay, maybe it was the alcohol that did most of that, but It sure didn’t help.

He turns to leave and you call out, “Roy?”

He turns to you and cocks his head slightly in confusion.

“Can you stay the night?”

“Of course. I’ll be on the couch. If you need me, don’t hesitate to wake me up. Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight.” you doze off into a far more pleasant sleep than you expected.

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Taglist: @infinetlyforgotten @taytaylala12 @siriuslyreads @ashy-kit @isla-finke-blog @laukora1030 @tamberjo @queen-of-the-downtown-scene @harry-bowie-mercury

#reader insert #roy kent x reader #roy kent/reader #roy kent #roy Kent Ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #Ted lasso #brett goldstein #idiots in love #love confessions #fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fluff #roy kent fluff #Roy Kent’s foul mouth #to love and be loved in return #keeley jones #rebecca welton

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onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 1 year

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Gold Rush (Superstar Chapter 3)

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

Roy and the Reader attend Rebecca’s charity ball... and uneasy feelings arise.

Roy Kent x Reader

5.7k words

Warnings: Language, Keeley making ~flirty~ suggestions, and a healthy sharp turn from fluff to angst

Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback on this series- I don’t deserve it! And big thanks to those who suggested a little bit of jealousy. Some of this was almost painful to write, so I’m excited to share my torture with you!

“Oi, did you get a dress for Friday yet?” Keeley plopped herself on my desk, not bothering with formal greetings. She raised her eyebrows at me expectantly.

“Friday…?” I closed my laptop, knowing I wouldn’t get anything done with Keeley in my office.

She rolled her eyes at me. “Rebecca’s charity ball! You’re going, aren’t you?”

Right. Rebecca’s big charity gala. She’d told me about it during my first couple of days at Richmond and extended a very enthusiastic invite, but I’d been so distracted by getting used to the job and starting up a romance with a certain football legend that I’d all but forgotten about the event.

“Oh. Right.” I made a face. “You don’t really think she expects me to go, right? It’s not like it’s a mandatory part of my job or anything.”

Keeley rolled her eyes again. “Of course you have to go! There’s fabulous music and free booze and good food. And the boys’ll be there and watching them get auctioned off is a hoot! Besides, it’s just a fun excuse to dress up and have a good time with everyone.” Her round eyes pleaded. “I’ll help you pick a dress,” she offered in a sing-song voice.

I groaned and tossed my head back, not bothering to hide my small grin that grew at the thought of a fun, fancy evening with everyone from the club. “I mean, I guess,” I grumbled.

“You guess what?”

Keeley’s eyes widened with excitement at the sound of Roy’s voice. “Oh, hi Roy!” She grinned at me not-so-sneakily. “We were just talking about Rebecca’s ball this weekend. You’re going, right?” Roy grunted in response. “Aaaaaand do you have a date?”

Roy’s eyes flickered in my direction for a fraction of a moment. “No.”

“Interesting.” Keeley looked like the fucking Cheshire Cat. “Say, Roy-”

I cleared my throat. “Roy, didn’t you need to go talk to Ted about that defensive strategy you wanted to try?”

He immediately took the hint and played along. “Fuck. Thanks.” He turned with his usual robotic stiffness and stalked out of the office, leaving Keeley and me in silence.

“Come on, why’d you do that?” Keeley whined, mischief sparkling in her eyes. “I was totally going to ask Roy about going to the ball with you!”

I shrugged, trying to keep calm. “Roy had coaching shit to do. Just doing my job. You know, being the coaching assistant and all.”

“Whatever,” Keeley scoffed. She paused, leaning close to the wall behind my desk, her mouth widening with glee. “Ho-ly shit. What the fuck is that?”

My eyes followed hers.

To my biggest fan. XOXO Roy Kent

Oh shit.

“Some stupid joke,” I mumbled, opening my laptop again, desperate to look too busy to chat. “I told Roy that my family’s big Richmond fans, he gave me some shit about it and wrote the note as a joke, that’s about it.”

“Look at you two, flirting in the workspace with a sexy orange sticky note.” Keeley winked at me. “Good for you, babes. Now all you have to do is let me help you pick a bangin’ outfit that’ll catch his attention Friday night!”

I narrowed my eyes at the girl who was having too much fun at my expense. “How about you help me pick something that looks nice, I’m comfortable in, and doesn’t kill my budget? We can leave Roy Kent out of my outfit.”

“Unless you’re looking super fit,” Keeley countered, jumping off my desk and heading towards the door. “In which case, Roy Kent will be spending the evening trying to get into your outfit.”

The night before, Roy had called with an offer to come over with food and a movie after work; it would be our first at-home hangout. I skipped out on work a tad early, complaining of imaginary cramps that Ted was immediately sympathetic to, so I could give my flat one last look over. I tidied up the things I hadn’t gotten to that morning before work and hid some of the more embarrassing family pictures that I wasn’t quite ready for Roy to see- like the one where my family and I wore the handmade Christmas jumpers my gran had made for us, each featuring the Greyhounds logo front and center. Nope, Roy freaking Kent did not need to see that.

With the flat tidy, I changed into some leggings and a cozy sweater, still wanting to look nice despite Roy’s assurance that all he wanted was a casual, comfortable evening together. I was running a brush through my hair when the now-familiar knock reached my ears. Trying not to look too giddy, I all but ran to the door and threw it open.

Roy stood in front of me, holding a box of pizza with a couple of DVDs on top. His face softened when he saw me, the way it seemed to always do when we were finally alone. He wrapped his free arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for the tiniest kiss as I pulled him into my flat, closing the door behind him.

“Hi,” he huffed when he let me go.

“Hi,” I whispered back, suddenly shy around the man I had just been kissing in an empty office hours earlier. Perhaps it was the fact that Roy Kent was standing in my flat, leaving us, for the first time since we’d been at my parents’ house, truly alone. Not surrounded by very well-meaning, nosy coworkers at the Dog Track. Not glancing over our shoulders at pubs to make sure no one was snapping a pic of a football star and a mystery woman. Just us, me and Roy, Roy and me, free to kiss and be close and just be a normal couple.

Couple. Whoa. There was a word I hadn’t allowed myself to say yet. It had only been a couple weeks of sending flirty text messages during meetings and sneaking kisses when Ted and Beard weren’t in the neighboring office and sitting in dark corner booths of pubs far from the prying eyes of A.F.C. Richmond, but already this felt serious. Real, as Keeley had mentioned the morning after my first date with Roy. Something that wouldn’t end with me stealing Roy’s watch in the middle of the night as he slept. (Yes, that’s what a model he dated did. No, I hadn’t brought it up yet, although I had plenty of jokes waiting for when the topic did inevitably arise.) Something that- and this felt way too soon to even whisper to myself in my innermost thoughts- might not have to end.

Roy could probably see the gears turning in my head, based on the face he was making at me. “You alright?” he asked, placing the pizza box on the coffee table. “You look like you’re thinking about somethin’.”

I shook my head, reminding myself to just enjoy getting to be with him. “Nah, just… I kind of can’t believe you’re here.” With the pizza out of the way, I could wrap my arms around him. “Like you’re here. Roy Kent. In my flat.”

The concern on his face was replaced with amusement. “Ah. Now I see the resemblance between you and your dad.” I blushed at the reminder of my father’s too excited reaction to seeing Roy Kent in our foyer. “It’s flatterin’,” he assured me, kissing the tip of my nose. “In fact, I’m a bit disappointed that you don’t have a shrine to me here.” He lifted his head and looked around my living room. “Such a shame,” he hummed.

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” I huffed, giving him a squeeze. “It’s not cute.”

“Fine. Can I be full of pizza then?”

I laughed and released him. “That works. Let me just grab some plates.”

Roy followed me to the kitchen, on my heels like a puppy. My heart swelled at the realization that he probably wanted to take advantage of being alone with me. I handed him the plates I pulled from the cupboard, reveling in the quiet, domestic moment, how natural it felt to get out plates for a quiet dinner at home with Roy Kent. I turned to the fridge and grabbed a couple of sodas, then led Roy back into the living room.

Curious about what Roy brought, I made a beeline for the DVDs. I didn’t bother to hide the surprise on my face when I saw the cover of the one on top.

“The Sound of Music?” I blurted incredulously, looking over at Roy as he made himself comfortable on the couch.

His eyes narrowed as he opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice. “You got a problem with that?” he growled, the playful look in his eye daring me to judge his movie pick.

I shrugged as I turned on the television and set up the movie. “Nope. I love The Sound of Music. Just not what I expected from you.”

“What’d you expect? Fast and the Furious? Transformers?”

“Or something dark, like The Shining,” I suggested as I joined him on the couch. “Not Julie Andrews.” I paused. “Not that I don’t love her,” I assured him. “She’s brilliant. Sound of Music is brilliant. Just a bit unexpected.”

Roy chuckled and scooted closer to me, pressing his thigh against mine as he leaned onto the couch. “The Shining,” he repeated. “A guy goes fucking nuts and tries to kill his family. Yep, that’s the kind of romantic impression I want to make.” He pointed at the screen, where scenes from the movie danced before us as the soundtrack played in the background. “This is fucking romantic. Sixteen Going on Seventeen, Edelweiss, Something Good, the fucking wedding with all the nuns singing How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria. Romantic as hell.”

I hit PLAY and grabbed myself some pizza, not bothering to hide the smile on my face. “Romance, huh?”

Roy smiled and shook his head. “Just watch the fucking movie.”

“Fuck, I’m so obsessed with the curtain dress,” I sighed, pressed against Roy’s side as Julie Andrews pranced around onscreen. “D’you think I’d look good in that dress?” I turned my head up towards Roy, who eyed me warily.

“I think you’d look good in anything,” he mumbled. He wrinkled his nose. “Was that too fucking cheesy?”

“Just cheesy enough,” I assured him. “If you think I could rock the curtain dress, just imagine me in the Mother Superior’s habit.”

He snorted, a huge smile gracing his face. “Once again, you’d look good in anything.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Speaking of dresses,” he said, clearly looking for an opening in the conversation, “are you going to that fucking charity thing?”

I sat up a little. “That’s actually why Keeley was in our office today. She was asking me about what I’m going to wear and bugging me about asking you to be my date.” I fidgeted with my hands. “And you’re going, I assume?”

He nodded. “Kinda have to. At least this year I don’t have to worry about being auctioned off like some fucking piece of meat.” A smirk formed on his lips. “Although I’m sure you’d love that.”

I rolled my eyes. “As if I could afford those auction prices,” I scoffed. “More like I’d get to watch you get bid on by gorgeous models wondering how much they have to spend to guarantee the night ended in your bed.” As much as I tried to make my words come off as snarky and joking, I knew my jealousy and insecurities seeped through every word.

Roy seemed to notice too. He wrapped his arms around me and buried his face in my hair, planting kisses there. “If it makes you feel better,” he murmured, squeezing me around my waist, “it was only the models’ old grannies that bid on me. Except last year, when Keeley was mad at Jamie and placed exactly one bid on me to piss him off, but I still ended up being won by a very horny old woman.” He shuddered, probably for my benefit as well as the memory itself. “If you want,” he whispered in that low, gruff voice, “we could have our own private auction after the ball.”

A shiver trailed down my spine, one he could probably feel. Roy Kent was not particularly flirtatious; he was snarky and often clever, he loved to tease and make fun of me, but he very rarely said something so… sexy.

“And during the ball?” I asked, desperate to change the subject and ignore the heat in my cheeks. “Like, do we ignore each other? Do we hang out?”

He sighed and sat back, tracing circles on my shoulder with the tips of his fingers. “I mean… it’s free seating, so we could sit together. And I don’t think anyone will notice if we dance together once or twice. Well, maybe Keeley.” He shrugged, gazing down at me. “I think we can manage to spend some time together while not raising anyone’s suspicions. Again, except Keeley. But who fucking cares if she figures it out?”

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed, leaning up to peck his cheek. “Alright now shut up, they’re singing again.”

“Ah, there you are!” Richard Montlaur stood in the doorway between the coaches’ offices, smiling at me. “Oh, hello Roy.” He nodded to his coach before strolling across the office to my desk. “I have a question for you.”

I blinked at him. “Uh, hi. What’s up?” In my brief time at Richmond, Montlaur had hardly spoken to me. A hello here and there, telling me I looked pretty a few times, but nothing worth noting. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Roy swivel in his chair slightly, clearly listening in.

Richard’s smile grew. “You are going on Friday, no? To Rebecca’s party?”

“Oh, yeah.” My puzzlement grew. “You?”

“Of course!” He leaned against the wall by my desk. “We should go together, yes?”

Roy stiffened. Fuck.

I cleared my throat and shuffled my feet. “Oh. Richard, that’s very sweet of you. But, um, I…”

“You have a date already?” Montlaur tilted his head, confusion covering his pretty face.

“Um…” I stopped myself from looking at Roy. “No, I don’t, I just…” I bit my lip. “I kind of planned on going solo. But it’s very sweet of you to ask.” I prayed the smile on my face didn’t look too forced.

Richard shrugged, unphased. “Ah, well. Just thought I would ask. You are, after all, the prettiest thing on this team. After me of course,” he added with a wink. He lifted my hand and pressed his lips to it. “At least promise you will save me one dance?”

I couldn’t make myself look at Roy; I knew he was fuming at his desk. “Sure, Richard,” I agreed. “One dance.” I took my hand back.

“Wonderful. If you’ll excuse me, I should go get ready for practice.” On his way out the door, he waved to Roy. “See you out there, Coach!”

As soon as Richard was out the door, I spun my chair around, finally facing Roy. He was already turned around, facing me with his arms crossed, his expression hard and stoney like it was the day we met. His mouth was in a perfectly straight line as he stared me down, reminding me of the way I used to see him stare down opponents on television.

“You really going to dance with that prick?”

I shrugged. “I mean, I guess? It’s no big deal, just a dance.”

Roy nodded slowly, his eyebrows knitted together as his face turned red. “Sure. No big deal.” He stood up. “I gotta go to practice.” He made his way out of the office.

“Roy-”

“Whistle!” The chattering in the changing room died instantly. “Oi, all of you, out on the pitch. Twenty laps as your warm up. Whistle!”

Nope. There was nothing I could do at this point; the boys would just all have to suffer. Hopefully seeing Montlaur run until he nearly puked would be enough to calm Roy down before he came back to the office. Trying to put thoughts of Roy and Richard and the gala out of my head, I turned my attention to my computer and opened a file containing personal project of mine: an American-to-British English dictionary just for Ted. The man desperately needed it.

“Hey babes!” Keeley sauntered in a couple hours later, her pink sparkly dress shining in the fluorescent light. “You ready to go?”

I cocked my head at her. “Go…?”

“Dress shopping!” she reminded me, pulling me out of my chair. “I already told Ted that I’m kidnapping you. So, let’s go!”

As we strolled arm in arm to different shops, I felt my mind drift back to Roy, wondering how practice was going. I prayed he wasn’t being too rough on the boys; it wasn’t their fault Montlaur unwittingly asked out Roy’s…. whatever I was.

“Hey, was Roy okay today?” Keeley peered at me over the clothing rack we were searching through, eyebrows raised. “I swear to God, you could hear him screaming whistle across the whole damn building.”

I shrugged. “I mean, he’s Roy,” I muttered, hoping I seemed nonchalant. “The man’s a ball of rage. Wouldn’t it be more surprising if he wasn’t screaming at the guys?” Come on, Keeley. Agree with my logic.

Keeley shifted her gaze to the dress she held out in front of her. “Hmm. I guess.” Her eyes found mine in a flash. “I did hear about Richard asking you to the ball. Guess I was just wondering if Roy got a little…” She popped her lips. “Jealous?”

“Enough,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Just help me find a damn dress.”

“Done.” Keeley held up a red dress that- damn her- I knew would look perfect on me.

I couldn’t help copying her infectious grin. “Fucking hell, Keeley.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Oi, d’you need a ride home?”

Roy stood over my desk, clutching his duffel bag, not quite looking me in the eye. A touch of pink colored his cheeks.

I tapped my pencil against my desk. “Well considering you drove me here this morning…” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Right.” He tapped the toe of his sneaker against the floor. “Well, I’ll meet you at the car I guess.”

I sighed as I began packing my things. “You can just wait here for me,” I huffed. “If you want, I mean. I’ll be quick.”

“Right,” he repeated.

I felt his eyes on me as I tucked my laptop and other things into my bag and wrote myself a note reminding myself about the tasks I needed to tackle the next morning, sticking it up next to Roy’s note. Then I shouldered my bag and grabbed the shopping bag that held the dress and heels Keeley had helped me find. When I was ready, I looked over at Roy, who was sitting at his desk, watching me from over the top of his phone that he had been pretending to scroll on.

“You ready?”

Our walk to the car was uncharacteristically quiet, the air around us heavy. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach as we crossed the parking lot, wondering if I’d somehow managed to fuck things up already. Great job. You’re gonna lose the guy of your dreams AND make the best job you’ve ever had uncomfortable as hell.

To my surprise, Roy opened the passenger door and helped me into the car, the same way he always did. He squeezed my hand, a reassuring touch after the silence we’d shared in the office once I returned from shopping. With one hand on the steering wheel, Roy put the key in the ignition and started the car- and immediately turned it back off. He turned to face me, his face serious.

“I didn’t fucking like Montlaur asking you out,” he said bluntly. “He’s a prick and was probably thinking he’d get to sleep with you just because he asked you to the gala. But I guess it’s not his fault for not knowing we’re seeing each other. And us keeping things private was my idea, so I probably shouldn’t be so fucking defensive.” His hand tapped on the steering wheel. “So, I’m sorry for being short with you,” he finished. “And sorry if I made you feel guilty when you honestly didn’t do a fucking thing wrong.”

In his eyes I could see that same anxiety that I had seen as he waited for me to tell him what I’d thought of his pub. When he asked me about keeping our situation private. That look that told me that what I felt mattered to him.

“It’s okay, Roy,” I whispered, resting my hand on his leg. “I was honest when I told Richard I didn’t want to go with him, I just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. Like you said, it’s not his fault.” I smirked. “How many laps did the guys end up doing anyway?”

A sheepish grin appeared on Roy’s face. “Ted talked me down to fifteen laps. But then they did burpees right after. Dani and Sam both threw up.”

I shook my head, holding back laughter. “Those poor boys. None of them better ask me to dance Friday.”

Now Roy shook his head, leaning close, clearly planning to take advantage of the empty parking lot. “You can dance with them,” he whispered. I could feel his stubble brush against my skin before he closed the distance between our lips. “Just promise to save the last dance for me.”

“Over here! Ms. Welton over here!”

I stood on the edge of the red carpet, wincing as I watched the scene before me. My friends and colleagues, alone or with stunning dates on their arms, made their way down the carpet, stopping to pose for photos, smiling widely and cracking jokes at the photographers. They all looked so calm, so at ease, while I floated at the periphery, trying to decide if I should brave the red carpet, walk behind the whole mess like the peasant I suddenly felt like, or just go home.

The last one was starting to sound good to me when I heard a familiar growl behind me. When I turned around, there was Roy, his soft brown eyes contrasting with the hard look on his face and providing me with an anchor to cling to. To no one’s surprise, he was wearing all black, a fitted suit that made my heart slam against my chest. He took a step closer to me, his gaze flickering to the photographers who whispered to themselves with excitement as soon as he approached their view.

“Fuck you for wearing that dress,” he grumbled out of the corner of his mouth, clearly trying to look casual. “You look amazing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the Roy Kent-ness of his compliment. “Keeley’s goal was for me to get your attention. I’m glad it’s working.”

He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets; I could see him trying to suppress a smile. “You’d get my attention even if you were wearing Maria’s curtain dress,” he breathed. “This-” His eyes trailed the red dress that hugged every curve, as if it had been made just for me. “-this is fucking torture.”

Before I could respond, I felt an arm hook through mine, grabbing my attention. I turned around; Keeley.

“Hi guys!” she gushed, looking gorgeous in a rose gold dress and with Jamie right behind her. “Don’t you two look grand together.” She shot me a wink. “Walking the carpet?”

Roy stiffened up, eyeing the papps with unease. “Speed-walking, more like.” He nodded to the three of us, though his eyes were on me. “See you in there.” He turned towards the carpet and bolted across, ignoring the photographers’ pleas for a picture, answering with only his two favorite words: Fuck no.

Keeley nudged me, nodding towards the photographers. “You go ahead,” she urged.

“Um…” I knew she saw the grimace on my face. “Think I could just, I dunno, go around?”

Her face softened as she tightened her arm around mine. “How about we go together? There’s enough photos of me and Jamie floating around online, they don’t need any more.” She glanced at Tartt. “That alright with you babe?”

Jamie nodded. I finally realized the shirt under his suit jacket was black see-through netting. “Go for it.” He shot me a friendly wink, assuring me that yes, I could steal his girlfriend for a strut up the red carpet.

Arms still linked, Keeley and I approached the edge of the carpet, where the photogaphers screamed Keeley’s name, asking who she was wearing and who she was with. She struck poses, an absolute natural, and flashed the most gorgeous smile I’d ever seen. I knew Keeley was beautiful- I’d seen her in magazines and ads for years, and of course knew her in person now- but seeing Model Keeley, live and in person, was an experience.

“Come on!” she urged, pulling me close. I mirrored her pose, feeling silly, a bit like a teenage girl taking selfies with her best friend. But having Keeley give me a squeeze suddenly made it… fun. Keeley shouted out my name to the reporters, spelling it with ease, and declaring me the Richmond coaching staff’s “fabulous new administrative assistant”.

I giggled as I pushed her down the red carpet, ready to get to the party. My heart purred with pleasure when I saw that Roy had not gone into the building yet; rather, he was standing by the entrance, watching me with a soft fondness covering his face. For once, he didn’t bother hiding the joy I knew we both felt around each other. I was sure my face matched my dress as Keeley and I approached him, stopping so Keeley could go back and join Jamie back in front of the cameras; so much for there already being enough photos of the two of them.

“You have fun out there?” Roy asked, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“A bit,” I admitted, more to myself than anyone else. “You should try it sometime.”

He bit his lip, looking me up and down, clearly emboldened by the lack of eyes and ears focused on us. “Maybe next year. With the right date on my arm.”

“Oh.” That was all I could manage; was Roy Kent- Roy fucking Kent- implying that we would still be seeing each other a year from now? It sure as hell sounded like it.

And I sure as hell found myself hoping it would happen.

Roy seemed to understand my sudden bashfulness. “Come on. Let’s head inside before the papps actually manage to get a fucking picture of me.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, taking advantage of the formal setting to have some physical contact to guide me into the venue.

As we entered the ballroom, I resisted the urge to gawk at the opulence of the venue; surely my wedding wouldn’t be this nice (unless you marry Roy Kent, the voice in my head teased).

Surely Roy could feel how overwhelmed I was. “Let’s find some seats and go grab drinks,” he suggested. “We’ll need ’em.”

I rose an eyebrow at him as he led me through the party towards the tables taken up by our fellow Richmond staff and players. “You sure you’re not too comfy there, Kent?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Everyone kind of gets extra friendly at this thing, so no one’ll bat an eye if we hang out.” He shrugged. “Especially since we’re officemates. It’ll seem kind of… natural for me to hang out with you, we’re always together at work anyway.” He nodded towards an empty table. “How’s here?”

“Sure.” I placed my clutch on the table, saving mine and Roy’s spots. “D’you mind if Keeley and Jamie join us?”

Roy threw his head back. “Fuuuuuuu-” He glanced at the begging expression on my face. “Fine.” He nodded towards the bar. “I’m gonna need a drink if you’re gonna make me hang out with Jamie fuckin’ Tartt.”

“Deal,” I agreed. “Lead the way.”

“I’m gonna go grab another beer. You want something?” Roy raised an eyebrow at me as the band began to set up onstage.

Dinner had been delicious, with Keeley and Jamie cracking jokes with us and pointing out the most ridiculously rich people in the room for my benefit. The auction had gone off without a hitch; I particularly enjoyed the amusement on Keeley’s face as she successfully bid on Jamie for an outlandish amount of money. Best of all, Roy had been sweet and attentive, much to Keeley’s glee, which helped to calm my nerves.

This might be the best night of my life.

“Sure, want me to come help you?” I offered, starting to stand up.

Roy shook his head, gesturing for me to stay seated. “What kind of gentleman would I bet if I made you get your own drink?” he whispered as he stood. He nodded to Jamie, who he’d actually been really friendly with during dinner. “Be right back.”

The moment Roy was out of earshot, Keeley pounced into his seat. “Holy shit! He’s so into you!” She nudged me happily. “All you have to do to seal the deal is grind on him in that dress, and he’ll be begging to go home with you.”

“Oh stop, Keeley,” I begged, giggling from the drinks I’d had with dinner. “Roy’s just being nice. He’s a good guy.” I turned around to look at Roy, who’d be bringing back my favorite dri-

“Oh shit, look who Roy’s talkin’ to!” Jamie laughed over his drink. “What a fuckin’ reunion.”

My heart plummeted into my stomach. Of course I recognized Brittany Brett, lingerie model and Roy’s ex-girlfriend. I’d seen photos of them in magazines for the four months they’d been seen together around Europe, often appearing wherever Roy had a match or she had a shoot. According to the tabloids, she devastatingly dumped him, and within two weeks she was spotted on a double date with some player for Barcelona and Mr. and Mrs. Lionel Messi.

And now there she was, wearing the tiniest dress I had ever seen and showing more cleavage than a renaissance painting. And, worst of all, clinging to Roy Kent. My Roy Kent. My face grew hot with envy as she laid a hand on his arm- the arm that had just been wrapped around my chair- and giggled. With his back to me, I could only imagine the expression on Roy’s face. Was it the scowl he usually wore around the rest of the world? Or was it the gentle smile he shared with me between kisses when we were alone? Or was it the look of adoration and desire he’d had a few hours ago when he complimented my red dress? Maybe it was the number of drinks I had, or the loud music that had started somewhere during my panic attack, or just the sight of this gorgeous woman hanging all over the guy I liked, but my head suddenly started spinning.

Before I could begin to fathom an idea of how to appropriately react, a hand landed on my shoulder. Richard Montlaur smiled down at me, handsome in his suit.

“I believe you owe me a dance,” he greeted in a friendly, teasing voice. He held his hand out to me. “Shall we?”

I shot one more glance at Roy, who still stood with Brittany Brett, no sign of my drink in his hand. “Sure,” I mumbled, taking his hand. “But maybe we could grab a drink first?”

Richard smiled as he helped me up. “Perfect.” He kept my hand in his as he led the way to the bar, settling us exactly where I wanted to be- right behind Roy and Brittany Brett.

I muttered my drink order to Richard and turned my attention to the conversation behind me.

“Roy,” Brittany purred in that syrupy voice I recalled from a couple interviews I’d seen online. “I’m so bummed you weren’t auctioned off tonight. I would have loved to put in a bid on you.”

Roy scoffed. “Come on, you know I hate that shit.”

“Who’s that girl you’re with? Not a date?”

My back stiffened as Richard handed me my drink.

“Er, she’s my assistant,” Roy mumbled. “I mean, she’s the coaching staff’s assistant. We share an office.”

“Aww,” Brittany cooed, as if Roy was talking about some cute thing Phoebe had done at school. “That is so sweet of you to sit with her. I’m sure she feels so out of place at an event like this, poor thing.”

That was all I needed to hear. I felt small, so fucking small, listening to Brittany fucking Brett simper over Roy and the charity case that was his assistant. I downed my drink and held out my hand to Richard.

“Let’s dance.”

I must have had too many drinks, or maybe I was just blinded by petty jealousy and anger, but I didn’t remember Richard leading me to the dance floor. I just knew that one moment, I was on the verge of tears behind Roy, and the next I was pressing my body close to Richard Montlaur as we swayed to a slow song.

As we swayed on the dance floor, I allowed my gaze to return to the bar. There was Roy, still chatting with Brittany Brett, but his eyes were on the table we’d been sitting at, a puzzled frown on his face. He craned his neck, eyes wandering until they landed on me and Richard. His frown deepened and he cocked his head at me. Even from this distance, I could see the hurt in his eyes.

But then I saw Brittany Brett lay her hand on his chest, clearly oblivious to the conversation Roy and I were having through eye contact. Instead, I tightened my grip on Richard’s shoulders as I watched Brittany Brett lean forward and kiss Roy’s lips.

I looked down, blinking away the tears that suddenly formed. “Um, I’m sorry Richard, but I don’t feel well,” I managed, taking a step back. “Thank you so much for the dance, but I-” I shook my head and left the dance floor, heading to the nearest exit, refusing to take another look at Roy Kent.

#Roy Kent #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent fanfic #roy kent x reader #roy kent fluff #roy kent fic #ted lasso #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

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chaifootsteps · 7 months

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stans comparing HH and SU songs is so embarrassing. Despite my issues with both shows I still like them but SU has way better songs/bg music than HH. Rebecca is an amazing composer (I’ll ever forgive or forget viv trash talking Rebecca’s songwriting. It was on an old stream but she gave sugar shit for writing music with ukeleles especially musicals but honestly just sounded like she was seething hard) “everything stay” “love like you” and “I remember you” “giant woman” the speak for themselves. Another thing about SU is it had amazing soundtrack with instrumentals, it had tone/atmosphere. It made the world of Steven have a vibe and could set the tone and tell a story with music alone.

Also I know goose and Evan did the score for HH but honestly nothing stood out which is weird because digital circus has a great soundtrack it has those old rpg Nintendo game sound which is such a vibe and again makes digital world unknown but theres more things out there we want to know. “You’re new home” is so fucking good. monkey wrench also has a great soundtrack that’s really highlighted in episode 3, it sets a sombre, melancholic tone throughout the episode and it’s a pretty damn heartbreaking episode.

With HH its not really a good score there no tone/mood just a lot of sound effects and the eres no build up or proper setting to musicals. I know songs are good but they feel empty? Cheap? It’s confusing. Either goose and Evan were told to just write whatever while most of the focus and highlights were the songs but bg music can really make a show. HH has none of that. HB has good bg music I hate stolas but his theme “stolas speaks” “robo fizz show” are pretty good and they were made by Jefferson Friedman who does the music for the Harley Quinn show. Score just set ups tone in a narrative story telling way that better than just having characters singing, but that’s just me. Respectless is pretty good even if the lyrics are really annoying, I think people stopped saying hashtag and swipe left a long time ago, just makes velvet sound like a boomer

Viv can seethe all she likes, nothing she's ever written is ever matching Rebecca Sugar's songwriting for craft, storytelling, and sheer heart.

#Anonymous #vivziepop critical #viv stuff #actual blog post

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

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Ooh I just read the other part to the baby Jamie tartt story and it was amazing!! What about where it’s bea’s first soccer game and the team shows up and Jamie is just a proud dad or she’s 2 or 3 watching her dad play and cheering super loud and getting into it!?!

Heyyo! Mixed this with another ask. It was fun to write! Thank you!

today’s a day like any other

Bea is two years old and five months, and she’s at the age where she is talking in sentences and can understand things that are happening around her. She makes little two-year-old jokes that only she understands, and her favorite person in the whole entire world is Sam Obisanya.

You have a picture of her at her second birthday party, pointing at something while Sam holds her, both in matching Obisanya 24 kits. She can’t read, but she knows enough to tell that the markings are the same. She wears it every day it’s clean, and some days it’s not. You think it’s hilarious because Jamie has to cajole her into wearing her Baby Tartt 9 kit.

Jamie is her second favorite person. She calls him “dada,” and shrieks whenever he comes home from training. Both of you are in your mid-twenties now, and you get stares whenever you’re out with her. The press is still the press, but they keep Bea’s face out of it when they speculate how long Jamie will keep “playing house,” or you will “put up with his antics.” They comment on young marriage and early divorce, and you and Jamie make the choice to laugh through it.

He calls Ted about once a week for advice on marriage and fatherhood, and Rebecca stops by for lunch for you and Bea twice a week to give you advice on marriage and encourage you in motherhood. Bea adores her, almost as much as she does Sam. Almost.

Rebecca had been hesitant at first to share, but once you said, “I’m pretty sure you know what red flags I should look for,” she laughed and went full steam ahead.

All that to say, Bea’s favorite people are Sam, Jamie, and you, in exactly that order. (You could rank the rest of the team, but honestly it’s pretty close between some of them and they don’t need that type of competition.)

Bea is two years old and five months, and she is at yet another football match, wearing her Obisanya 24 jersey and bouncing up and down in your arms. You’re three months along with your son name undisclosed so you can still hide it, but you’re wearing one of Jamie’s kits as opposed to your own. You put tiny lines of red and blue face paint on Bea and are standing up in Rebecca’s box, pointing things out to Bea. You point to a tiny Sam on the pitch, and Bea starts yelling, “Sam, Sam, Sam!” He can’t hear her, of course, but he’s looking around and smiling. The stadium is chanting, “Go, Sam Obisanya,” and Bea picks it up. You see Jamie nudge Sam and point up to where you’re sitting and Sam waves. Bea waves back, giggling.

“Bea, do you see Dada?” you ask. Jamie’s face is on the big screen, and she wiggles even harder. She’s practically vibrating in your arms. You think this might be the first game she actually understands enough to remember. You spend the first half narrating the game to her- “See, Sam has the ball. He’s trying to get it to Dada. Oh look, there he goes. Do you think he’s going to pass it?”

Bea is watching intently as Jamie zips by player after player. You see him fake out Wolverhampton’s last line of defense and then the stadium erupts. He’s scored the first goal of the game.

Bea is yelling her head off and bouncing again. Jamie looks up to where he knows you are an blow a kiss, which only makes Bea lose it more.

On the drive home, all she can talk about is how “dada got a goal,” and “dada is my favorite.”

—

Bea is seven years old and one month, and she is very adamant that she wants to play football. Her friends are all playing, plus she’s Beatrice fricken’ Tartt. Isn’t football in her blood?

You and Jamie tried to talk her out of it, not wanting her to feel like she had to. She insisted.

So there you are on a Saturday morning, seven months pregnant (yes, again thanks to goddamn Jamie Tartt) getting ready to cheer Bea on in her first match of the season.

Her kit says Tartt 24 because of course it does. The teams are doing little stretches to get ready, so you smile and reach down to get a juice for four-year-old Theo (no, you don’t call him Ted) out of the cooler Jamie brought.

“Eyy, it’s the Tartts!” says a voice. You look up to a grinning Dani.

“Dani! What are you doing here?” you ask, grinning back.

“Couldn’t miss my favorite niece’s first match, could I? And I heard you had drinks,” he says, peering into the cooler.

You laugh and someone else says, “let me know what’s in the cooler, bruv.” You turn, and there’s Isaac, Colin, and Michael. Dani waves to someone across the field, and it’s Sam, Jan Maas, Richard, and Bumbercatch. Roy’s Jeep screeches into the parking lot, and you see him get out followed by a flurry of pink. Of course it’s Keeley.

“I hope I’m not late,” says another voice, and Bea runs up to say “Aunt Bex!” and does a flying leap at Rebecca.

All of Bea’s uncles are here, minus Ted and Beard, to support her at her first game.

You think you might cry.

Jamie, on the other hand, is looking extremely proud of himself.

Bea is showing of her number 24, Sam is grinning proudly, Richard, Isaac, and Jan Maas are hyping her up, and Dani is doing arm curls with Theo hanging onto his wrist.

Jamie slides his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your neck.

“Jamie Tartt,” you say, “did you invite all of them?”

Jamie grins. “I might’ve.“

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever done. It might even make me not mad at you anymore.”

Jamie pulls away a little, indignant. “What’re you mad at me for? I haven’t done anything!”

You point to your stomach and say, “Oh really, then what do you call this?”

Jamie fixes you with a devilish grin. “Proof that I’m still fucking sexy?”

You giggle like a teenager. He is definitely still fucking sexy.

The game is filled with wild cheers from Bea’s aunts and uncles, especially when she performs a header.

“I taught her that,” Roy says to anyone who will listen.

They swarm her on the field after the game’s over, uncaring if she’s won or lost. It doesn’t matter. They don’t all play for Richmond anymore, but they will always be a family.

—

Bea is sixteen years old when she causually mentions a boy named Thomas in one of her classes. You’re all at the dinner table and Jamie doesn’t clock it, but you do.

Jamie is only a few years out from retirement. He’s around the age Roy was when Roy hurt his knee, and although he’s still tearing it up on the pitch, you both know his time is coming to a close.

He’s a lot sadder than he lets on, but you remind him there’s more to life. Your family has become somewhat famous, even in the States, so he’ll still have opportunities to do what he loves. Just not with the League. It’s become a bit of a routine, at this point, having the same conversation at the end of ever season.

Just one more, Jamie promises, One more and then I’ll retire. You just hope he isn’t forced to by an injury.

But anyway, Bea’s got her eye on a boy and Jamie is completely oblivious until you bring it up that night while getting ready for bed. He’s flossing his teeth and your putting lotion on your face.

“She fuckin’ what?” Spit goes flying.

“Jamie, that’s disgusting. Please wipe that up.”

Jamie grabs a towel and swipes at the mirror. “How d’you know? It could just be a friend. She’s too young to be thinking like that!”

You smile. Bea’s a very thoughtful girl. You’re pretty sure she timed the name-drop with great precision and care, testing the waters.

She’s a lot like you.

“Babe, I just know. And, not sure if you’ve noticed, but she’s not seven anymore. Plus, I’ve seen Thomas around. He’s a very bright, respectful young man. Bea’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Jamie pales, not listening to a thing you said. He grabs your hand. “Babe. Babe. Think about what I was like. Fucking hell, I was an absolute wanker. Oh fuck. This is not fucking good.”

He’s spiraling. He’s spiraling about his oldest daughter and it’s adorable. His hair is all crazy from running his hands through it, and his eyes are wild. You know what Jamie was like. You met a toned-down version of him, and you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t want Bea even near someone like that. You’ve heard the stories of how he was before.

“Jaim,” you say, “it’s going to be ok. Seriously.”

“You don’t understand,” he says, hands now on your face. “I was an absolute shithead. I was rude and a fucking dick. I didn’t treat women well, or anyone well, and I don’t want Bea with someone like me.”

You understand. You’re not minimizing his concerns or apathetic about Bea, it’s just that you know the daughter you’ve raised, and you tell Jamie as much. “I know this is new for us, but she’s wonderful. And anyway, it’s not like she’s going to end up like me, twenty-two and knocked up.”

“We were married!” Jamie protests, “And twenty-two is like being a real adult!”

You raise an eyebrow. “We were barely married. And we were basically kids.”

Jamie still looks distraught, so you place your hands on his wrists.

“Darling, don’t worry. She’ll be ok. We made it this far being stupid, and she’s so much smarter than either of us.”

Jamie snorts, which you take as a victory.

“And anyway,” you continue, “any boy that breaks her heart has like a million of her scary uncles to deal with. I promise, promise, promise she’ll be alright.”

Jamie smiles at that. “She does, doesn’t she?” He kisses the tip of your nose. “Suppose it’s a good thing you didn’t have any of those, otherwise we might not have gotten together.”

You laugh. “Alright, you sentimental dweeb. It’s past your bedtime.”

“Just one more kiss,” Jamie replies, and then his lips are on yours and you forget what you were even talking about, anyway.

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

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