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yelena-bellova · 1 year

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Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen: Break My Heart

Plot: With Y/n and Jamie not speaking to one another, a trip to Manchester brings about opportunity and heartache.

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: f!reader, language, insinuated smut, mention of abusive parents

A/N: THIS is the chapter I’ve been looking forward to the most. Even though this isn’t the conclusion, I think it’s what the whole thing’s been building to. Well, this is part one of it, at least. I’m gonna shut up now and just let you read. Enjoy!!

—————

Sam Obisanya: Remember that movie we were looking forward to? It’s coming out on Friday. Want to catch it this weekend?

Colin Hughes: Haven’t seen you around lately. Everything alright?

Dani Rojas: We missed you at Isaac’s birthday dinner! Come visit us next time you are free!

Rebecca Welton: Your tea’s cold. Keeley’s confirmed you’re not dead. Several questions.

Ted Lasso: What’s shaking, Abe Lincoln? Don’t be a stranger next time you’re meeting with the boss.

There had been an onslaught of texts in the three weeks since Y/n had moved out of the Dogtrack. She hadn’t expected people to not notice she was gone, but she hadn’t thought so many of them would care.

She’d ignored every single one.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to stick with Keeley. Barbara had stayed on as well. With Rebecca’s generous financing, the three of them were keeping their ship afloat all by themselves. Jack be damned.

True to her word, Y/n handled all Richmond business from afar, only popping in with Keeley for an occasional meeting with Rebecca and Higgins. She sorted press conferences and post-match interviews without ever stepping foot in the building. If it weren’t so unhealthy, it would have been impressive.

In her makeshift office, actually the conference room, Y/n paced around her computer. She eyed the screen each time she passed by. Roy had a presser scheduled for the afternoon. Sam and…another player were meant to join him. Sam she could handle seeing, though Lord knows she felt guilty for ghosting him. The other one…

“Oh,” Y/n waved herself off, feeling ridiculous. She was a grown woman. She could handle it, she thought, as she turned on the video feed.

Springing to life on her screen, Roy sat between Sam and Jamie, fielding questions.

Y/n’s insides locked up. Jamie.

They hadn’t spoken since the night he’d shown up at her apartment. Not a single text or run-in. It was no longer just Y/n avoiding him, Jamie was actively not speaking to her.

Y/n tried to focus on Sam’s answers, he spoke humbly about Richmond’s 15-game win streak. The last three had been unbelievable you-had-to-be-there kind of matches. Hiding in her apartment with a Sky Sports broadcast hadn’t compared to the real thing. Y/n missed the energy of the stadium and the joy of watching the boys.

Her eyes kept floating back to Jamie. He was hunched over the table, biting his nails, not making eye contact with anyone. He didn’t look like he wanted to be there at all.

Marcus Adebayo, though he answered to Roy’s nickname of ‘better Trent,’ stood and addressed Jamie. “On the heels of making your England debut, how does it feel to be named Premier League Player of the Month?”

“Eh, um, yeah. Yeah, it feels good, I guess,” Jamie answered hesitantly, “But it’s really the team making me look good. So, I should be doing a better job of making them look good, really.”

If Y/n had been in the room, Sam, Roy and her would have all shared the same puzzled look.

“So, yeah. Makes me feel bad,” Jamie finished with a pursed frown.

Roy leaned forward, “Uh, Jamie also led the league in assists this month so he’s done plenty to make his teammates look good.”

“Yeah, but they’re the ones who took all the shots,” Jamie corrected softly.

“He also scored a goal,” Sam interjected.

“T-that was meant to be a pass,” Jamie pointed out, his voice high with anxiety, “You shouldn’t count that. That goal is a lie. It should be retracted from the records.”

Y/n shook her head in confusion, whispering to the empty room, “What are you doing?”

“I apologize to everyone,” Jamie continued, “Especially to the kids.”

“Right, let’s call it there, everyone,” Roy decided at the exact second Y/n was internally stepping forward, “That was great. Thanks very much.”

Y/n stared at the screen, her gaze following Jamie until he was off camera. Whoever had been speaking wasn’t any variation of the Jamie Tartt she knew. He was so out of character it was concerning.

She glanced at her phone, the device silently begging her to type a message. Ask him. Talk to him. Find out what’s wrong. Help him.

Instead, Y/n took a deep breath, closed out the browser, opened her email and got back to work. No good could come from her reaching out. Jamie would be absolutely fine without her, better even. And she would be fine without him.

—————————

Y/n wasn’t a woman who ever thought a man’s presence added anything to a situation she couldn’t. But as she heaved the water jug onto the cooler, she wished that she hadn’t sent the delivery guy away under the assumption she could do it herself.

She returned to the main room to find Keeley in conversation with Roy, both of them turning to face her.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Roy asked.

Y/n motioned to the space around them, “I work here.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly, “You work at Richmond.”

“Y/n has been here the last few weeks,” Keeley answered, “Just to get things back up and running while we’re short staffed.”

Roy took deep pride in not interjecting himself into anyone else’s business. Sure, he’d helped Isaac through whatever the fuck had caused his meltdown last month. Yes, he offered Ted advice from time to time. But the other 99% of the time, he didn’t particularly care what choices the people around him made. Their lives were theirs and his was his.

But Jamie and Y/n were another fucking deal.

He wouldn’t have invited Y/n along to their 4AM training sessions if he hadn’t known she helped keep Jamie’s spirits up. He’d caught the two of them leaving the parking lot together more than a dozen times. He’d noticed Jamie be the first one on the pitch whenever Y/n was observing training and the first one off when she was waiting on him for lunch. He was well aware the two of them were attached at the fucking hip. Y/n’s disappearance had thrown everything off-balance. Maybe it wasn’t the reason for Jamie breaking down in Roy’s arms earlier, but it certainly couldn’t be helping.

“Oh,” Roy humored the answer, smiling at Y/n. “That’s very kind of her.”

Y/n grinned back nervously, Roy could see through everyone’s bullshit but his own.

“She could help too,” Keeley suggested.

“Help with what?” Y/n asked.

Keeley gestured to Roy for an explanation. “Jamie’s going through some shit. I asked Keeley to talk to him, but since you two are close, maybe you could too.”

Big fat flashing red sirens went off in Y/n’s head. “Oh, I really don’t think I’d help anything,” she struggled, “I-I think Keeley’s much more suited.”

“Not necessarily,” Keeley disagreed as Roy continued to stare Y/n down, “I mean, you two are really good friends.”

“We’re not that close,” Y/n lied, “I mean, we’ve hung out a couple of times but really,” she extended a hand toward her boss, “You definitely know him better.”

Unlike her ex, Keeley had no problem inserting herself in other people’s business. She hadn’t yet approached Y/n about the headlines she and Jamie had made after the England match or the fact that she didn’t want to go near Nelson Road. Since coming back from London, Y/n had pulled away from everyone and everything, Keeley included.

Roy was taking some sick joy in egging Y/n on, “Oh, no, I think-“

“I’ll take care of it,” Keeley jumped to say, ending whatever confrontation was about to take place. “Promise.”

Y/n and Roy held eye contact, challenging one another to break first. Eventually, Roy’s desire to look at Keeley won out and he turned away.

“Thanks,” he glanced back over at Y/n, “I’ll leave you two to your work.”

Stealing one more fleeting gaze at his ex-girlfriend, Roy left the way he’d come, leaving Y/n with a whole new bunch of unresolved feelings.

“He’s quite handsome.”

Y/n startled, she hadn’t even realized Barbara was seated at her desk for the whole exchange. She headed for the conference room, eager to get away from every part of the conversation.

Keeley hung back a moment before following her and gently knocking on the door. “Hi,” she entered slowly, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered with faux cheeriness, seated once more at her desk/table, “Fine.”

“It’s just back there…you seemed a bit on edge when Roy mentioned Jamie,” Keeley broached the topic with care.

Y/n’s muscles involuntarily clenched, she tried to keep an even expression. “No, I’m fine.”

Keeley hesitated, nearly turning around and leaving before deciding to just go for it. “You know, if this is about the pictures of you two, I don’t think anyone thinks-“

Y/n sighed, “Keeley, I’m fine. I just think Roy should do his fucking job and take care of his players instead of pawning them off on one of us.”

“I’m not talking about Roy,” Keeley replied, “I’m talking about-“

“Jamie and I are not close,” Y/n said, her tone harsher than intended, “We are not friends. There’s nothing wrong with him, we’re just not as chummy as everyone seems to think we are. End of story.”

Keeley knew Y/n’s edges were sharp, but she hadn’t ever seen her snap so quickly. It only told her there was more to the issue than she’d guessed.

“Got it,” she gave a single nod, “I’m sorry I asked.”

Y/n regretted her words the moment she’d said them. Keeley hadn’t deserved her misplaced frustration. But the mere mention of that night triggered Y/n’s fight-or-flight response. Mixed with the knowledge that something was wrong with Jamie and that Roy clearly knew something, it was all too much.

She stared out the conference room window, landing on Keeley and Barbara’s desks they’d pushed together. She could have been with them, working together as a team. Instead, she was hiding away, once again deciding that the isolation could keep her safe from everything.

Everything except the gnawing fear that she was responsible for Jamie’s behavior.

—————————

Finally, the long awaited weekend arrived.

Man City versus Richmond.

Y/n left no stone unturned when searching for a new excuse not to attend the match. She’d had her period the first week of her three week absence, sick and exhausted the next two. If she’d had any family in the country, there would have been some fake emergency involving them.

She knew she couldn’t get away with a full month’s nonattendance. She had to go to Manchester.

Packing an overnight bag at 6AM and getting on the road by 7 had been her self-ruled terms. The last thing Y/n wanted was to be stuffed on a bus with everyone she was trying to avoid for four hours. Driving herself allowed not only space, but an escape route, if she needed it.

She was barely out of London when Keeley rang her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” the Bluetooth speakers of the car projected Keeley’s voice, “We’re loading the bus up. Just wanted to see where you were.”

Y/n sighed, she’d forgotten to tell someone she wasn’t coming with the team. “Actually, I’m already on the road. I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d get an early start.”

“Oh,” Keeley sounded a bit disappointed, but not entirely surprised, “That makes sense. Smart choice.”

“Yeah,” Y/n replied, feeling the familiar burn in her gut that came with each lie she told, “I’m a bit ahead of you guys so I’ll see you when you get there.”

“Alright. Drive safe, yeah?”

“You too,” she said before disconnecting the call.

Y/n tried to listen to music, tried to play a podcast, but she found that anything other than silence just didn’t feel right. Every song seemed to trace back to her situation and every spoken word seemed to be speaking directly to her, telling her everything she was doing was wrong.

The silence was no more comforting, it only gave her more room to ruminate about the weekend. How was she supposed to avoid Jamie in such close quarters? How was she supposed to keep away from Ted, Rebecca, Keeley, the rest of the team? It felt like a mistake to come and an equally massive one to stay behind.

A long four hours later, Y/n pulled up to the Hacienda Hotel. The Greyhound bus had yet to arrive. She actually stood a chance at getting up to her room and dodging company till the match.

Y/n gave her car to the valet and dragged her single suitcase through the lobby. She headed straight for the front desk.

“Hi,” she greeted the concierge, “I have a reservation under Y/l/n.”

“Let me just check,” the man replied, typing the last name into his computer. He frowned, “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t seem to have that reservation.”

“No, that can’t be right,” Y/n calmly replied, “I called yesterday about transferring one room under the Richmond block to my name.”

The man scrolled through his list a second time, “Unfortunately, that request doesn’t seem to have been entered into our system. All the Richmond rooms are reserved under the name ‘Lasso.’”

Y/n sighed, she’d gone to extreme lengths to separate herself before even stepping foot in the city. So much so that she’d been willing to pay her own overpriced hotel rate.

“Fine,” she relented, “It doesn’t matter. Checking in to one room under the name ‘Lasso.’”

“Unfortunately, ma’am,” the employee grimaced, “Under hotel policy, we can’t check in individual guests if the reservation is under a different name. You’ll have to wait until the main guest has arrived.”

Y/n’s plan crumbled further, Ted had to check her in? Worse, she’d have to wait with the whole fucking team?

Just as she’d connected the dots, the hiss of a Coach could be heard outside. Y/n whipped her head around to see the AFC Richmond logo and the moving silhouettes of the boys through the dark windows.

“There,” Y/n pointed to the bus, “The main guest’s there. Check me in.”

The man hesitated, “I’m sorry, ma’am. I have to wait to confirm-“

“How many people named ‘Lasso’ do you think there are in this country?” Y/n whispered in a panic, “He’s right in there, he’s making shitty puns,” her hand bounced against the desk, “Check me in.”

Arguing would have been hard considering Ted was an anomaly in England. The concierge conceded to Y/n’s demand and began the process.

Y/n nervously drummed her fingers against the counter, glancing back to see Will emerging from the bus. Behind him were Isaac, Richard and Jan.

“You’ll be in room #601, ma’am,” the concierge reported and handed her a room key.

Y/n yanked the card out of his palm before he could tell her the bellboy would be happy to take her suitcase. “Thank you.”

She hurried across the lobby to the elevator, praying she could make a getaway without anyone see-

“Hey, Y/n!”

She stopped in her tracks, so close…

Y/n turned around and spotted Ted, hurrying across the lobby as one would after a long drive. She managed a smile and a wave, pressing the elevator’s button repeatedly with her other hand.

“Don’t forget,” Ted called as he made a beeline for the bathrooms. “Team movie, 7:30. I’ll give ya a hint; if you love Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, you ain’t gonna wanna miss this one!”

In three weeks, Y/n had dodged a lot of invitations. A lot. Another declination and she was convinced she’d develop an ulcer.

“Sounds good,” she shouted just as the elevator doors opened. She jumped inside and pressed her floor number before anyone else spot her.

Just before the doors closed, she caught the first of the boys entering the lobby. Just past Sam, Y/n glimpsed the sharp edges of Jamie’s face. Her heart caught in her throat, the mere sight of him was enough to startle her.

She wondered how long she could pretend everything was fine before she proved herself wrong.

—————————

Y/n hid in her room the rest of the day. She didn’t dare leave to get ice or see the city, sure that with her luck, she’d run into someone the second she stepped out.

Half-way through the afternoon, a knock at the door surprised her. She peeked through the peephole to see Keeley. Out of anyone, she was the one that Y/n couldn’t totally avoid.

The door swung open and Y/n put on a smile, “Hey.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted, “You beat us here.”

“Yeah,” Y/n chuckled, “Trust me, I’d have rather gotten the sleep.”

“Right,” Keeley chortled, “Can I come in?”

Y/n opened the door wider and allowed it. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to steal your pillow chocolates,” her boss cheekily smirked but didn’t move to grab the candy.“And…to ask if you might reconsider talking to Jamie?”

“Keeley,” Y/n sighed in frustration, rubbing at her face, “I told you-“

“I know,” Keeley held up her hands, “But I just talked to him and…he’s really in his head. It’s bad, Y/n. I’ve never seen him like this.”

While she could pretend all she wanted that Jamie meant little to her, Y/n was growing more and more worried. Every one of his dreams were coming true, and the ones that hadn’t were on the horizon. He should have been on top of the world and instead, he was spiraling. She wanted nothing more than to bang on his door, wrap him in her arms and fix it all. Put him back together until he was his glorious self.

“Look,” Y/n pushed on one of her eyes, “Keeley, whatever you think I’m capable of doing for Jamie, I’m not. I’m not a footballer, I’m not his coach, I’m not his girlfriend,” she found the last words uncomfortably difficult to get out, “I’m half his publicity team. That’s it.”

“You’re more than that,” Keeley replied, she had the kindest way of arguing. “You two have been glued to each other’s sides since you got to Richmond. Jamie trusts you. If you just talk to him-“

Y/n pressed her hands against her lips as Keeley spoke. The panic was beginning to swirl inside her again.

“Keeley,” she cut her off and enunciated her words, “I can’t help him.”

After a whole season of working together, Keeley could easily tell when Y/n was lying, both to others and herself. She didn’t need to know what her and Jamie meant to one another, all that mattered was they did. If Y/n wasn’t ready to acknowledge it, there wasn’t anything Keeley could do.

“Okay,” she replied, once again resigned in her failed quest, “I’ll leave you be.”

Y/n didn’t move as Keeley’s furry jacket brushed past her, shutting her eyes to hide the tears. Only when she was alone once more did she let them streak her cheeks. Somewhere down the hall, Jamie was hurting, and that meant she was hurting as well.

—————————

At exactly 7:30, Y/n made her way down the hotel hall. Different conference rooms lined the walls and she followed their numbers till she found the one Ted had texted her. She slipped through the back door, the lights were dimmed and everyone had already taken their seats. Her version of perfect timing.

From her vantage point, Y/n had a perfect layout of the seating arrangement. The team were gathered in the first few rows. Keeley and Roy were at one end of the back row, with Ted, Beard, Rebecca and Higgins following. Y/n couldn’t help but let her eyes run over the players’ heads, spotting Jamie’s mop of hair in the front row.

After evaluating her options, Y/n chose the safest one at the nearest end of the back row, next to Trent Crimm.

“Just in time,” he whispered as she took the seat beside him.

“Yeah,” she replied, “Got lost.”

Trent nodded, waiting a few seconds before speaking up again, “You know, I’m sure anyone would be happy to switch. In case you wanted to sit with your friends.”

Y/n peered over at Trent, whose eyes gleamed suspiciously with knowledge.

“I’m fine,” she readjusted in her chair to prove the point.

Trent nodded, trying and failing not to smirk, “I’m honored to rank so high on your priority list.”

Y/n’s glance turned into a stare, the former journalist was smiling as if she were made of glass. Were her actions so obvious that even he had noticed?

Trent settled back into his chair, shifting his attention to the opening credits. Y/n did the same and focused just as the main title popped up.

You’ve Got Mail.

She groaned internally, if the universe was out to get her, choosing one of the most romantic comedies of all time was the greatest insult it could hurl.

For an hour and fifty-nine minutes, Y/n squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She couldn’t go more than thirty seconds without sneaking a peek at Jamie, who hadn’t moved at all since the start. He was a fidgeting mess every waking minute of the day. Something was terribly off.

After Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks kissed in the New York garden and his golden retriever leaped to embrace them, the lights came back on. Y/n distractedly clapped along with the rest of the room, already eyeing her exit.

“All right. Listen up, you big softies,” Ted announced, “10PM, lights out. Then get yourselves some beauty sleep for tomorrow’s big meet-cute with Man City. You hear? Alright, Ephron on three. One, two, three-“

A few people, Beard being the loudest, chanted the filmmaker’s name.

“Lovely to see you again,” Trent said, a tease to his tone, as Y/n got up and out of her seat.

She hesitated, catching his knowing expression once more, and debated saying something. She decided it wasted energy and turned on her heel, making it only two steps before Keeley grabbed hold of her arm.

“Come on,” she ordered, pulling Y/n behind her.

“What?” Y/n asked, “Where the-“

Keeley didn’t answer, tugging her across the room towards the door Roy was holding open.

“Keeley, what-“

“Shh,” Keeley hushed, finally letting go of Y/n’s arm.

Y/n followed alongside her boss and Roy, unsure of where they were leading her. When they got to the lobby and she caught Jamie’s silhouette ahead of them, she came to a halt.

“No.”

“Y/n-“ Keeley began.

“No,” Y/n slashed a hand through the air, “I told you no.”

“Fuck your no,” Roy snapped, “I don’t care what the fuck’s going on wth you two, but your job is to make the club look good,” Roy pointed to Jamie’s fleeting figure, “And he makes us look good. So you’re gonna do your fucking job and you’re gonna help us fucking fix this.”

Y/n chuckled with deep annoyance, “You know what? Fuck you, Kent. I’m not one of your footballers you can boss around any time you’re in a shit mood,” she stuck a finger out at Roy, “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Oi!” Keeley exclaimed, her heels slapping against the floor as she marched back, “Both of you, stop it. Come on!”

Roy and Y/n broke their stare, Jamie was rounding the corner and heading out the hotel’s doors. Sparing each other one more hardened glare, they followed Keeley.

The three of them exited the hotel, Keeley spotting Jamie passing the Richmond bus, and they traced his path. Against all she told herself, Y/n went on her own free will, chasing him through the Manchester evening.

Keeley’s stalking technique involved scurrying behind cars and lampposts, while Y/n clung to building walls. Ever the least subtle of any group, Roy simply walked the street, not using much caution to mask his presence.

They followed Jamie through neighborhoods and into the inner part of the city. They crossed bridges, climbed stairs and finally ended up on one side of a florescent lit tunnel. On their descent down the steps, they lost sight of him.

“The fuck is he?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley answered, “You’ve lost him.”

Roy glanced around them, “You said he went down here.”

“I did not,” Keeley argued, “You said that.”

“No, I said he’s in a tunnel,” Roy corrected as the three of them marched down the way, “I didn’t say he was in this tunnel. She’s the one who thought it was this one.”

“He did come down this one,” Y/n said sternly.

“Well, there’s no other tunnel, is there?” Keeley reprimanded them, “I don’t believe it. You’ve lost Jamie Tartt.”

“We didn’t lose him,” Y/n argued, silently worried. The second she’d lost eyes on Jamie was the second their surroundings suddenly became unsettling.

“You can’t lose Jamie Tartt,” Roy replied.

“Well, you have,” Keeley fired back.

“OI!”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n jumped at the exclaim, spinning around and shouting various expletives.

“Fucking hell!”

“What the fuck?!”

Jamie stood, hood over his head and hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay, you prick,” Roy spoke kind words with contrasting anger.

“What’s going on, Jamie?” Keeley asked, “Are you buying drugs?”

Jamie’s confused stare turned to Y/n, he locked up. The three weeks of not seeing her made her sudden presence feel like a hallucination.

Any face Y/n had been wearing dropped the second her eyes met Jamie’s. This was the closest they’d been since that night outside her apartment.

They came back to themselves quickly, hiding whatever they were feeling for the sake of Keeley and Roy being present.

Jamie nodded towards the path ahead of them, “Come on.”

Roy, Keeley and Y/n followed without question as Jamie guided them through the tunnel. It led up to a crowded neighborhood, a council estate that looked like it had seen better days.

Y/n made an effort to follow Roy, keeping as much distance as she could between her and Jamie. Her presence would probably mess with his head even more so than her absence might have. She was starting to wonder if the choice to come had been a selfish one.

They passed a group of kids kicking a football against a brick wall.

“Oi,” one of them called, “Are you Jamie Tartt?”

Jamie pushed back his hood, “Yeah.”

“More like Jamie Fart,” the youngest taunted.

“Screw you, dickhead,” the tallest one shouted, “Prick!”

“Yeah, who are you?”

“City’s gonna fuck you up tomorrow!”

Through the haranguing of insults, Jamie smiled, glancing over to Keeley, and sneaking one at Y/n. He led them away towards the row of houses.

Roy stuck around, turning to stare down the kids, who’d gone dead silent. Y/n readied herself to drag Roy away kicking and screaming from unloading on them.

Instead, he held up his hands in an ‘ok’ sign, “Good lads.”

While the kids were clearly thrilled at having been complimented by the Roy Kent, Y/n slapped his arm as hard as she could. Roy grasped it and silently protested before Y/n pointed to where Jamie and Keeley had gone off to.

They arrived on the doorsteps of one of the houses. Jamie rang the doorbell and they waited till a pair of eyes popped through one of the door’s glass bits.

“Hey,” the man exclaimed before opening the door, greeting them with a wide grin, “Jamie!”

“How you doing, Simon?” Jamie smiled and pointed to the group, “This is Keeley, that’s Roy, and that’s Y/n.”

“Come on in, come on in,” Simon waved them into the home.

Jamie entered first, shaking Simon’s hand, “How are you, mate? Good seeing you, man.”

“Yeah, great,” Simon replied as he ushered his guests in.

Keeley, Roy and Y/n all gave various greetings as they crossed the threshold. None of them knew quite where they were.

“Georgie,” Simon called up the stairs, “We’ve got visitors!”

A female voice called back down, “What was that, love? Someone at the door?”

Jamie made a beeline for the bottom of the staircase, just as a woman stopped at the top, frozen by what lay in front of her.

“Hello, Mommy.”

Y/n’s eyes widened.

Georgie screamed as she ran down the steps, leaping into her son’s arms. “Jamie!”

“Mommy, I’d like to introduce you to Keeley,” Jamie turned to face his friends, “And this hairy prick’s Roy,” his smile dropped an imperceptible inch, “And that’s Y/n over there.”

“Hi,” Keeley greeted in her normal bubbly tone.

“Hi,” Y/n managed to eek out, holding up a nervous hand.

“Hey, you,” Roy said smoothly.

“Hi,” Georgie greeted them all while hugging Jamie once more, “It’s lovely to finally meet you all. I’d come and give you a hug,” she squeezed the sides of her son’s face, “But I’m not letting go of this one!”

Jamie lifted his mom into the air and spun her around.

“There they go,” Simon observed, “Right, who wants some sweet treats?”

Simon slipped off deeper into the house while Georgie and Jamie stayed in their embrace.

“Look at your gorgeous face,” she exclaimed as Jamie carried them both down the hallway, “I love it. How have you been? Look at you.”

Run. All of Y/n’s instincts told her to run right back out that door and take her chances with being abducted in the sketchy tunnel. Roy and Keeley must have sensed her unease because Keeley reached back for Y/n’s hand and Roy kept behind her, forcing her inside.

Georgie and Jamie had managed to separate long enough for Jamie to snuggle up against his mom on the living room couch. Keeley, Y/n and Roy stood at the entrance to the room, unsure of where to go.

“Oh, come and sit down,” Georgie gestured to the rest of the room.

Keeley and Roy entered less hesitatingly than Y/n, who took up a seat on the arm of the couch. To say she was uncomfortable was an understatement of epic proportions. Here she’d gone to every effort to avoid Jamie, and she’d ended up in what was clearly his childhood home with his mother.

She glanced over at the shrine to Jamie on the far wall, various pictures of him from different stages of life proudly displayed. Baby pictures all the way to league headshots. Y/n wanted to evaporate into thin air.

Simon popped back into the room with a plate of baked goods, dishing one out to each of his guests as Georgie and Jamie talked.

“It was just poopy,” Jamie quietly vented to his mom, his thick accent changing the word entirely, “You know, it really upset me. This guy on Twitter, he kept saying that it was blonde, but I’m like, ‘It’s fucking walnut mist, mate.’”

Y/n nearly spit out the bite of scone she was chewing. If this whole debacle was about his vanity, she’d march out the door. They’d argued several times over the exact shade of the highlights.

“Yeah, obviously,” Georgie agreed, stroking her son’s hair, “He’s done a lovely job, it’s dead natural.”

Simon finished pouring the tea, looking up expectantly at the party. “What do you think?”

Keeley smiled, “It’s really yummy.”

“Yeah, it’s wonderful,” Y/n managed to find her voice.

Keeley elbowed Roy, who was lost staring at the sight of his former nemesis cuddled up with his mother like a lost child. “It’s fucking delicious,” he said distractedly before returning.

“Well, it’s a Paul Hollywood recipe, but I’ve gone a little bit rogue on it,” Simon explained.

Allowing herself to slip back into a world where Jamie was damn near the center, Y/n wondered who Simon was. He clearly wasn’t Jamie’s biological father, he was the complete antithesis of the man she’d heard horror stories about. Jamie had never mentioned having a step-dad.

“Babes,” Georgie said softly, “Do you wanna give Roy, Keeley and Y/n the grand tour? Show them around a bit?”

“Yes,” Simon agreed, catching the signals his wife was throwing at him. “Good idea. Thank—“ he stood and hit his head on the overhead light, “Oops! Right, follow me. We will start in the kitchen, aka my laboratory.”

Y/n was the first to stand, but fell behind Keeley, making her a buffer. When Roy hesitated to leave, she tugged him harshly out the room.

“Fuckin’ grip you’ve got,” he complained as they walked to the kitchen.

“Oh, bite me,” Y/n retorted. Keeley had good intentions, but she was ready to kick Roy for dragging her into this.

Simon took them on a full tour of the house, showcasing his kitchen and its appliances off as if they were his most prized possessions. All along the walls of the house were pictures of him and Georgie on various trips and holidays. Scattered between them were childhood pictures of Jamie.

Eventually, Simon led them up the stairs and down a short hall. “And here is the main attraction,” he announced, opening a door and flipping on a light, “Jamie’s room.”

“Oh, sweet Lord,” Y/n muttered under her breath. This was way too deep in.

The room seemed untouched since the day Jamie had left it. Both childhood toys and teen paraphernalia were stacked on shelves and dressers. The bedding had a football pattern to it and there were various trophies for the sport nearby. On the walls, there were school certificates and diplomas and-

“Fucking hell.”

Y/n turned to see a poster of Roy, sporting a Chelsea kit and a very shaggy haircut tacked to Jamie’s wall.

“Ah, yes,” Simon looked to the footballer, “Many posters have come and gone over the years. Henry, Gerrard, Ronaldo…but Roy Kent, always remains.”

Y/n slapped a hand over her mouth and snorted, ignoring the daggers Roy was sending her way.

An phone alarm went off and Simon pulled the device out of his pocket. “Oh! Meat pies are done,” he said, “Excuse me.”

As he shut the door, another poster was revealed. This one of Keeley during her more risqué modeling days, holding two footballs against her breasts.

“Fucking hell,” she grunted.

“Yep, no, can’t do it,” Y/n finally found her voice and the doorknob. She wasn’t sure she could spend another second in Jamieland without her head exploding. “Simon!”

Their friendly host had barely made it down one of the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Let me help you with the pies,” Y/n jogged down the hall.

“Oh, no, you go ahead and look around,” he said kindly.

“No, really,” Y/n followed him down the staircase, “You’re kind enough to deal with three strangers barging into your house. It’s the least I can do.”

Simon scoffed lightheartedly as he led them into the kitchen, “No friend of Jamie’s is a stranger in this house,” he slipped on a pair of oven mitts, “Right, if you want to place these on the cooling rack.”

Simon pulled out the tray of pies and set them on the stove. Y/n went about setting them on the racks, wondering if she’d made the better choice. Now, instead of sitting in Jamie’s bedroom, she was cooking with his step-dad.

“So,” Simon spoke as he moved about the kitchen, “I can gather what brought Jamie here, but what made you three tag along?”

“Oh,” Y/n searched for an explanation, “He’s been a bit…off…lately and we were just worried about him.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he replied, “Coming home’s a big deal, especially in this case.”

Y/n furrowed her brows, “How do you figure?”

“Well, if you were playing against your hometown in your hometown,” Simon wiped his hands on his apron, “Might stir up some feelings.”

Said out in the open, it all sounded so obvious. Of course Jamie was struggling with playing Man City. Not only that, he hadn’t spoken to his dad in ages and it was almost guaranteed the bastard would show up to cheer against his own son.

Y/n sighed, she felt like an idiot.

“Speaking of home,” Simon broke her out of her head, “Your accent doesn’t suggest you’re from around here.”

“No,” Y/n returned to their conversation, “I, uh, moved here for school and never left.”

“Oh, fascinating. What made you stay?”

Y/n shrugged and placed the last of the pies on the cooling rack. “I was just settled and didn’t want to leave.”

“That must’ve been awful for your parents,” Simon said, “When Jamie moved to London, Georgie was devastated, and that’s only a half day’s drive. I can’t imagine a whole ocean’s worth of distance.”

If Y/n thought the night couldn’t get any more uncomfortable, the mention of her parents proved her wrong. Between the location, a vulnerable Jamie in the next room, and her family being brought up, she thought she might burst into tears.

“They’re okay with it,” she answered.

“Gosh,” Simon commented, stood at the island, “That can’t be true.”

“It is,” Y/n replied quickly and spun around, attempting a smile, “But I’ve got a lovely life here.”

“Of course,” he grinned, “Working for a football club’s got to be exciting. Jamie’s mentioned you plenty.”

Y/n wasn’t moving, but she could feel everything inside her stop. “Jamie’s…mentioned me?”

“Loads,” Simon nodded, “He calls round every once in a while. Obviously he keeps busy, but the name Y/n has come up nearly every conversation. I thought I might break into hives when Georgie told me about the Christmas dinner you two cooked.”

Simon began to recount all the memories shared between Jamie and Y/n that he and Georgie had become privy to. It wasn’t just the more notable moments like their chaotic Christmas or helping Y/n move to Richmond, but the little ones too. Sneaking into the stadium for lunch breaks in the seats. Post-match interviews Y/n oversaw and how Jamie would try and make her laugh with his answers. Y/n making Jamie decorate his house because the bareness of it drove her crazy. Jamie showing up on Y/n’s doorstep on her birthday right at midnight. Trying to learn how to cook together after the disastrous Christmas dinner and kind of, almost, sort of succeeding. Picking one another’s songs at team karaoke nights. Conversations in the hallways of Nelson Road. Movies and shows suggested to one another and the reactions that followed.

The whole of Jamie and Y/n’s relationship was played back for her in his parent’s kitchen.

She was speechless.

“I, uh,” she managed, her eyes beginning to glisten, “I didn’t know Jamie talked that much about his friends.”

“His friends?” Simon looked to Y/n before ducking his eyes away when he saw she was serious, “Oh, yes…his friends.”

The small slip was enough to confirm what Y/n already suspected.

“Um,” she said, her throat suddenly thick, “It’s getting late. Would you mimd telling Roy and Keeley I took a cab back to the hotel?”

“Of course,” Simon smiled, “Can I send you home with a pie?”

“Oh, no, that’s alright,” Y/n was already crossing the kitchen, “But thank you so much for the scones. Please tell Georgie thank you for letting us interrupt your night.”

Simon waved her off, “Nonsense. Get back safe.”

Y/n speed walked down the hall, not sparing so much as a glance in the living room’s direction. She threw the front door open and hurried down the way. With shaking hands, she pulled out her phone and ordered an Uber.

Her breath came in quick puffs, the anxiety creating quite a home in her chest. She was on the verge of having the worst anxiety attack of her life, all because she’d come to the conclusion that she was cared for. No, this wasn’t care. This was something else entirely.

Little did she know, the second he’d heard her brush through the hall, Jamie was on high alert. He’d looked up from his mom, jumping to a seated position as the door slammed shut.

“Was that Y/n?” He asked Simon as he passed by the living room.

“Yes, she said she had to get back to the hotel,” Simon answered, grabbing the plate of half eaten scones from the coffee table.

Jamie was up and off the couch in an instant, hurrying down the hall and out the front door. Y/n was stood on the sidewalk, her hand pressed to her chest as if she was on the verge of collapsing.

“Hey.”

Y/n’s head whipped around, Jamie was jogging down the steps to her. He kept a fair bit of distance between them at first, unsure of how she felt about his presence. All she could do was attempt another breath.

“Hey,” Jamie crossed the space, deciding to reach for Y/n’s arms, “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head and avoided meeting Jamie’s concerned eyes.

“No, what’s wrong?” Jamie’s thumbs stroked over her sweater.

For all her fight, Y/n couldn’t bring herself to battle the warm grip Jamie had on her. She’d missed it.

“I’m fine, Jamie,” she lied once more, “I just want to go back to the hotel.”

Jamie scanned her face, finding the tears in her red eyes before she could hide them. Just as much as there was something wrong with him, there was something eating away at Y/n.

In the three weeks they’d stayed away from one another, Jamie had found life to be unbearable. The anxiety about playing Man City and the possibility of seeing his father once more had manifested in his playing. He’d struggled through training more and more, slowly becoming paralyzed by the lack of his usual fire. Without Y/n there to go and vent all his fears to, someone who understood without him ever having to explain a thing, it had all snowballed. Breaking down in the boot room and sobbing into Roy’s shoulder could have been avoided. His panic attack when Keeley had come to his room to check on him would have never happened.

But it wasn’t just that. Jamie found himself missing Y/n in the dullest of moments. Making dinner for himself, searching for something on television, driving home from work. Sleep was nearly impossible now that he’d gotten to fade out with her in his arms. The vacancy she’d left in his life was overwhelming. Jamie had never wanted to share such insignificant moments with someone in his life. He’d never felt as unsettled without someone.

This wasn’t some infatuation. He couldn’t live without her.

“Look,” Jamie tilted her head up, her eyes finally meeting his, “I know everything’s wrecked a-and we fucked it all up but…” his breath came out trembling, “But I love you.”

Y/n cries began to shake her chest.

“And I know this is the worst fucking time to say it,” Jamie bit back a laugh, but he felt ten tons lighter with the words finally spoken, “But I don’t regret what happened. If I could go back and do it a hundred times over, I would.”

A single cry escaped Y/n.

“And I need you,” Jamie spoke urgently, dragging a hand to Y/n’s cheek, brushing a thumb over the wet skin, “I need you with me ‘cause I don’t know what the fuck I’m doin’ without you. I don’t. You’ve fucking ruined me.”

Y/n was caught somewhere between a frown and a smile. Her worst fear and her greatest wish.

“Don’t leave, please,” Jamie pleaded, slipping his free hand around Y/n’s waist when she didn’t recoil at his touch. “I wanna be with you.”

Y/n’s sobs caused her whole body to shudder, which only made Jamie to pull her closer. She ended up enveloped in his arms, the only place she’d truly desired to be since the moment she’d left them.

Jamie pressed a kiss to Y/n’s forehead, trying to ease whatever pain and pour out his sentiments. The relief of holding her again was all-consuming and he reveled in it.

For a moment, they both realized what they could have. They could put the whole horrid separation behind them and let themselves be happy. They could come home to one another. They could hold nothing back from each other. They could build a life together and give each other all the love they’d ever been deprived of.

Where Jamie felt hope, cradling the girl he loved, Y/n felt panic, fearing the risk more than the loss.

“Jamie,” she whispered, “No.”

Jamie pulled back, fearfully gazing into her bloodshot eyes. “What do you mean?”

“No,” Y/n repeated, “We can’t.”

“Wh-“ he stammered, she was slipping away from him, “What are you talking about? We can.”

Y/n whined, “I can’t, Jamie. I can’t.”

“You can, you can,” Jamie insisted, holding Y/n’s cheek with purpose. He caught the headlights of the Uber coming down his street, “Why? Why can’t we have this?”

“Tell me,” Jamie softly begged, “Tell me why. Why can’t we have this?”

Finally, Y/n’s emotions burst, everything flooding out in a mess of terror.

“Because I don’t want this,” she exclaimed tearfully, “I don’t want this, Jamie. I don’t want y-“

She caught herself before she could finish it, but it was still too late. The damage had been done, and the wreckage spread across Jamie’s face. His lips parted in shock and his touch lost its urgency.

In her blind panic, Y/n hadn’t expected such a lie to come out of her mouth. But there was no taking it back, and the fear of all Jamie was ready to give was possessing her. This was the only way to keep herself safe.

Behind them, the Uber driver had pulled up to the house. “Oi, one of you Y/n?”

Y/n blinked up at Jamie, who was searching her eyes for the dishonesty in what she’d said. He found it so easily, but her determination to run was visibly clearer.

“Please let me go,” Y/n asked, her voice barely audible. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she spoke.

Jamie knew there was no more fight to give. He’d poured the contents of his heart out to her fruitlessly. He couldn’t force her to face the truth, that she might love him back, or that she even cared that he loved her. He was out of plays to make, all he could do was let her walk away.

He dropped his hands as slow as he could, savoring the last feel of her he’d get. Y/n trembled as his fingers left her face, committing his touch to her memory. This was the end before they even reached the beginning.

“In or out, love,” the driver interrupted.

Summoning the last of her strength, Y/n sought out Jamie’s eyes, glistening with tears now. She’d dealt the ultimate blow to an already wounded soldier. Slowly, she backed away from him, fighting every urge to run back into his arms and take it all back. If he took one step towards her, she knew she’d do it.

Jamie obeyed her wishes and didn’t move.

With one final gaze, Y/n turned away, climbing into the backseat of the Uber. He didn’t wait to drive, pulling the car away from as soon as she’d shut the door.

Y/n watched Jamie in the rear view mirror before it became too much. She dissolved to silent wracking sobs, caving in on herself. Not only had she walked away from the man she knew she surely loved, but she’d broken his heart doing so. The self-destruction was no longer only affecting her, she was destroying those around her.

Jamie wiped a shaking hand over his face as he watched the car carry Y/n away. He struggled to comprehend all that had just happened. He’d lost her.

Somehow, he carried himself back inside. He shuffled robotically back into the living room. His mum and Simon were seated on the couch, speaking in hushed tones.

Georgie looked expectantly to her son. Jamie had never needed to talk about him and Y/n in so many words. She knew exactly what he felt. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Jamie stared ahead at the carpet.

“Did you talk to her?” Georgie asked, asking something far deeper.

Jamie nodded.

“Does she feel the same?”

There was the true answer, and there was the easy answer. Jamie chose the latter.

“No.”

——————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

#ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso imagine #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt imagine #keeley jones x reader #roy kent x reader #heartfirst

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courtmartialme · 9 months

Note

I have a question. Also, you're my favorite Royai artist (the characters as individuals and together). You've mentioned that you consider Riza autistic many times, but have you ever given your support for why you think that? I'm just curious what your thoughts are.

comparing to my own experience but it's common to see autistic people be taken as uninterested and rude for being unexpressive and blunt. so it's mainly about riza being presented as stoic and somewhat scary but gradually being shown she's very kind and fun and even makes bad jokes with a straight face (it's so moe........) but is bad at expressing that, which makes both other characters and viewers think she's always annoyed and no-fun when that's not true.. it's so important to me

she also barely understands other people's feelings and takes things too literally, or say things out loud you probably shouldn't

like at the hughes' funeral scene when roy says it's raining and riza's immediate reaction is to go "it's not??" LOL or when roy is coming up with problems as excuse to not fight ed in flame vs fullmetal and riza very promptly solves them...! it's all very Autism to me.. my mom works for arakawa and she told me it's true

basically:

(i haven't watched brotherhood in so long but i'm like 80% sure these panels i used are all scenes that didn't make it into the anime which is why i'm an avid brotherhood hater and you should read the manga)

#i !!! could go on but it's too long #and subjective i guess i dont want it to look like i'm reaching but it's so obvious TO ME ok !!!!#two wolves inside me one wants to reply to this with just 'arakawa told me' n the other wants to make a 50 page doc with visual evidence #they're the autism brothers #asked #also thank you...! i'm slightly surprised you like my roy individually he's just in my art to be accessory for riza #fma #riza hawkeye #will throw it in the tag fuck it !!!!!!

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crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Mended Relationships and the Future

Pairing: Jamie Tartt x Fem!reader Characters: Fem!reader, Ted Lasso, Coach Beard, Keeley Jones, Jamie Tartt, Rebecca Welton, Isaac Mcadoo, Colin Hughs, Sam Obisanya, Dani Rojas, Jan Maas, Roy Kent, literally all of the players (I just can’t think of their names) Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, cursing, mentions of pregnancies, mentions of reader not taking care of themselves (don’t do this), Jamie being sweet, reader and Jamie being dummies for a second, the team being so goddamn adorable, the team gives such family vibes, Jamie pretending the reader and he are engaged so he can stay with her, Ted and Beard are a powerful duo, this is my favorite TL fic that I’ve written Word Count: 3,783

A/N: Bits and pieces are based on this post

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You walk into the coach’s office with your hands in your hoodie pocket, clutching onto your phone to keep your hands busy. "Why did you wake me up and force me here, Ted?"

"That's not a can-do attitude."

Your expression doesn't change, if anything, you look more tired and drained. Another reason why the mustached man got you out of your home. "Ted."

He sighs. "I wanted to check in on you, haven't seen you in a minute."

You sigh. "I would prefer it if I were in my bed right now to be honest with you."

"After we go out to lunch."

"I want to be out of here before I run into..." You pause when you almost say his name. "You know what- I'm just- I’m gonna go." You barely turn around and hear the door open.

It takes you less than a second to duck, which makes Ted feel a little bad but doesn't change his mind.

He knows you two need to talk, especially when neither of you want to admit who broke up with who... or why it happened.

Your emotions take a toll on your body again and you crawl towards the trash can, dry heaving until you feel it coming up (again).

Beard kindly closes the door before anyone could walk in or hear you as Ted rubs the space between your shoulders.

"How long have you been feeling like this?"

You shrug.

"How long?" He asks again.

"A few weeks."

Ted glances over at his long-time buddy with wide eyes. "Please don't get upset or take offense when I ask this but have you-"

'Play dumb. Play dumb.' "Have I what? Use words, my brain isn't functioning off your noises."

"Is there a possibility that you could be, you know, with child?"

Your head snaps up. 'He knows.' "Why would you ask that?"

"You have a few of the signs."

"When was the last time you went to a doctor?" Beard chimes in.

"A while ago."

"So, you know?"

"Whether or not I'm pregnant with my ex-boyfriend’s baby, who coincidentally told me he doesn't want kids just as I wanted to tell him I do. Yeah, it was right as I was about to tell him I am with child, which is why I've been dodging all of you but you and Beard here," you point to Ted's sidekick, who waves. "Dragged me out of my house."

"Oh, honey."

"Does he know?" Coach beard intervenes (again).

"What do you mean?"

"You said, you wanted to tell him... did you?" Ted politely asks.

"He broke up with me, so I didn't give him my surprise, but I tell people it was mutual because he asked me if," the tears roll down your cheeks. "If it was okay. The fucking ex-cockiest player of all, asked me if I was going to be okay, so of course I said yes and then he left. We haven't spoken since."

"He should know."

"I know but he is scared to death to have his own kids. Why would I-" You scoot back and rest your head against the wall. "I want to go home. I have a few things coming later today and I need to be there for them. It’s time I start," you take a deep breath. “Getting things ready.”

"We can get those later, I've gotta make sure you're okay right now."

"I'd be better if this nausea, vomiting combo would go away."

"Do you want me to have Keeley get you a ginger ale or something?"

"Yeah."

The door opens and there she is. She stares at you with the same look she gives you every time you throw up. "I had a feeling you were going to need this."

Jamie sees what he imagines is a glimpse of you sitting in his coach’s office. He furrows his brows, wondering if it was really, you or if it's a figment of his imagination... again.

It wouldn’t be the first time this week.

"What?" She practically screams when Ted tells her on behalf of you, the Jamie not knowing part; she already knew you were pregnant, but she thought he knew and decided not to be in either of your lives. Now she feels a little bad about not being nice to him.

You bury your head in your hands. "Shut up. Don't shout anymore, please."

"Can you blame me? That's big fucking news babes. I thought he already knew."

"Yeah, I know. Just, shut the door please."

She doesn't, so you push yourself up and close the door.

You sway as you take a step back, “oh, boy.” You can hear their voices but not hear their words. You feel yourself falling backwards before it fades to darkness.

Ted and Beard catch you, carefully laying you down so the latter can call for an ambulance.

Jamie steps closer to the office, sensing something’s happened. He opens the door and his jaw dropped as he’s about to ask what's going on until his eyes land on you.

He immediately falls to his knees beside you, holding your face in his hands, not caring about the rug burn that’s going to ache later. "What happened?"

No one responds.

"What fucking happened?"

Ted doesn't feel he should be the one to tell him and does all that he can to try and calm down his player. "She's fine, she probably didn't have enough to eat for breakfast, is all."

"Bullshit. She's done that before and never fainted before." He stares down, studying your face. "So, why is she fucking unconscious?"

You don't know anything that happened within the last few hours.

All you know is that there is an annoying beeping sound coming from the side of you and your one hand is warmer than it normally is.

You slowly open your eyes, blinking multiple times as you try to adjust to the lighting. You look for the source of the warmth and find Jamie, holding your hand with his head rested on his arm with his head facing you.

The door opens and you find Ted peaking in.

The way his shoulder sags in relief makes you feel bad.

He tiptoes closer and lets you know what happened.

"Why is he here?"

He smiles as he peaks over at the sleepy man. "He didn't leave your side."

"How did he know?"

"He came in as we were calling for an ambulance. You scared him, he would barely let the paramedics help."

"Isn't family only allowed in here?"

"Apparently you two are engaged."

You owlishly blink. "What?"

"He said you two were engaged and he needed, no, no. That's not right, he demanded, there it is. He demanded to be in the room with you. I wasn't here for most of it. In the room I mean but I think he knows because he looked very shocked and then came in here when they told him he could and hasn’t left since."

The coach ignores the fact that your heart monitor spikes as you ask, "he knows?"

"I think so."

Jamie moves a little in his sleep.

"That's my cue to leave."

"Wait- no. Ted. Come back." You glance between him and Jamie. "Ted," you hiss. "Come back here."

Jamie squeezes your hand as he slowly begins to wake up.

You look back at him just in time to hear the door close. You throw your head back and sigh.

"Sweetheart?"

You slowly turn your head to stare at him, your eyes becoming sad.

His shoulders sag in relief as a slow sigh escapes his parted lips. "How are you feeling? I should- I should go get the doctor, shouldn't I?"

You reach for him, grabbing onto him before he could leave. "Jaim. Jaim?"

He doesn't turn around but settles back into his seat.

"Jam-Jam?"

A sniffle fills the room.

"Jamie, look at me."

He shakes his head. You tighten your grip on his arm, ignoring the familiar burning sensation in your nose. "Jamie, I need you to look at me."

"Why?" He sniffles, staring at you with his now, bloodshot eyes. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

"Don't throw that question my way, Tartt."

"No more, Jam-Jam?"

"I was going to tell you."

"What? After the birth?"

"I'm more tempted to now." You wipe the stray tear that tipped past your eye lid before he could see. "I initially planned on telling you right when you broke up with me but, we see how well that turned out."

“Wh- is that what you had been trying to do the whole time?”

You nod and lean forward, drawing him into you; needing to comfort him and be comforted all at once.

He moves closer to you, closing his eyes at the feeling of your hand against his face; something he hasn’t felt in what feels like, forever. He hadn’t realized you were wiping away his tears.

“I wanted to figure out the best way to tell you because, I mean we hadn’t exactly talked about us having kids before and I kind of figured that with everything that went on with your dad. I thought it was going to make it hard for you to think that you could be a good dad. Which, I think is stupid.”

He opens his mouth to ask what you mean until you continue.

“I mean, how could you not be a good dad because personally I think you’d be absolutely fucking phenomenal.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “big time. You’re already doing better than your dad.”

“What do you mean?”

You smile and sniff. “You’re not making any of the stupid decisions he has.”

“I made one.”

You tilt your head. “What was that?”

“I broke up with you. I just-” He pulls back from you (something he does when he feels like he’s undeserving of something). “I thought- I thought you were pulling away to break up with me and you couldn’t figure out how to do it, so I-”

“So, you thought breaking up with me first, was a better option?”

He nods, scratching his head.

“Come closer.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he weakly argues.

“Come here.”

He scoots the chair closer.

“I need you to be honest with me when I ask these questions, okay?”

He nods.

You sigh through your nose and reach for his hand. “Is there any part of you that does not want to be a part of either of our lives?”

“No.”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to leave any time soon?”

“The fuck do you take me for? I’m not going to leave you ever,” he stands up and bends down, staring into your eyes before leaning down to kiss you. “Okay? I love you too fucking much to let you go again. I hated being away from you.”

“Same here but, I’m really happy you’re here… even if it was because I fainted.”

“Speaking of, why did that happen exactly?”

“I- well- I hadn’t had anything-”

“Let’s just cut the bullshit, have you been taking proper care of yourself since we were separated?”

You shamefully shake your head.

He doesn’t show his disappointment, but you know it’s there.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry. Isn’t that- crying is stressful on the baby, ain’t it?”

“Not so much- I mean, maybe?”

“Okay, well.” He grabs your hands, bringing your attention to him. “Let’s take a few deep breathes so we can calm down for Baby Tartt.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Do do do doo.”

“Listen to you. Guess I rubbed off on you, eh?” You roll your eyes, not believing that for a second. “Does any of what you’ve said within the last two minutes sound anything like what your dad could say?”

“Not in the least bit.”

“See, exactly. It further proves you’re different and how much you’ve grown from the cocky man who couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

“Hey. That’s someone we don’t speak of.”

“Of course,” you salute him. You two can barely keep your amusement to yourselves and break into a fit of smiles and giggles.

He stares at you, watching as you wipe your cheeks and leans up, kissing your forehead before placing his on top of your head. “I was,” he hesitates to finish his sentence.

You nod and cup his cheek, letting him know you’re there, a simple gesture to let him know you want to hear what he has to say.

“-so scared when I saw you lying there unconscious.”

Your heart drops at the way his voice cracks. “Jaim. Jaim. Look at me.”

He shakes his head.

You don’t push any further and instead opt for bringing him closer, letting him rest against your chest, squeezing you in a hug.

It takes a few minutes before Jamie manages to calm himself down enough to revert back to your adorable boyfriend. “Oh, shit. I didn’t hurt the baby, did I?” He asks, now scared to touch you.

“No. You didn’t.”

You hold out your hand for him, “do you trust me?”

He nods, “’course I do.”

“Give me your hand.”

He slowly inches his hand closer and closer to you.

You huff and reach for him. “Are you ready?”

He doesn’t move or make a noise as you place his hand over your belly. “Am I supposed to be feeling anything?”

“Other than knowing the fact you are going to be a father soon enough, no. I’m not that far along for us to feel any kicking.”

He bends down as a breath of relief escapes him. “Thank god, I thought I was supposed to feel kicking or something and I didn’t, which scared me the hell out of me because I thought he already hated me.”

“He?”

“I mean, hello,” he gestures to himself. You roll your eyes and take your hand back from him. “You’re so going to be cursed with girls.” “How can you say that?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“I have and we’re actually quite happy together, sorry for the late notice, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes and let out a dramatic sigh.

Ted peaks his head in through the door. “I see you two have talked things out? Hopefully, if not. No pressure. Well, maybe a little seeing as I have everyone waiting in the hall.”

“Everyone?” You repeat.

The coach nods. “Give me second.” He looks back over his shoulder, pretending to count, “one, two, four. Yep, everyone.”

You place your hand on your forehead. “Suddenly the thought of everyone knowing makes me nauseous.”

“Hey, hey. Look at me.”

You turn your head and look at your favorite person ever… for now.

“If we can get through the team being little shits and the press making unnecessary comments about our relationship, we can get through the team knowing.”

“We can?” He gives you an affirmative nod, “we can.”

“We can.”

“Atta girl.”

“Alright, guys. They said okay,” Ted waves everyone in.

“I suddenly realize how many of you there actually are,” you comment.

Sam, Dani, and Colin chuckled.

“As captain, I feel like it’s my duty to ask,” Isaac leans closer to you, talking to you in a softer tone than his normal one. “How are you?”

You smile, “I’m better now.”

“Good, that’s what we like to hear. Ain’t that right, team?”

“Yes, coach!”

“And now I’m scared.”

“Oh, don’t be scared especially when you’re carrying a special bundle of joy,” the mustached man points out.

“Oh fuck.”

“Something the matter, Roy?” Ted asks.

“Yeah. She’s carrying Tartt’s baby.”

“I’m pretty sure they covered that topic back in school but continue.”

“There’s going to be a baby brought into the world soon.”

“Yeah?” Ted glances over at Beard, who shrugs.

“With his blood coursing through its veins,” he points to your ex-not-ex-boyfriend.

It’s quiet for three seconds before everyone groans and rolls their eyes, they think about what it could be like with a baby Jamie.

“Hey, hey now. Let’s not think about something as crazy as that because this baby is a good thing.”

“Yeah?” Jamie whispers, glancing back at Ted, not letting go of your hand.

“Yes, it is,” the coach nods. “You’re going to go through one of the many joys life brings you.”

“What’s that?”

“Fatherhood… that, may or may not mix with a lot of uncles and two aunts who decide they want to spend time with the little booger.”

“Would one of those many figures happen to include you, coach?”

“No,” Ted shakes his head.

“Not at all, Beard.”

The door opens and heads turn.

“Hi, I’m just here to-” The nurse takes note of the number of people in the room. “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to ask anyone but the father and mother of the child to leave.”

“Is it not believable that a woman could have this many boyfriends?” Jan asks.

“Shut up.” A shoe aimed at his head, hits the wall and lands on the floor with a thud.

The guys decide it’s time for them to leave, which lets you two see the few things the team has gotten, and it makes you tear up, freaking Jamie out.

And he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, but it was really nice of them team to do.

“Should we open some presents?” Ted softly asks, placing one in your lap.

“Didn’t the nurse just kick you out.”

“I’m your dad.”

“We’re your dads,” Beard adds.

You glance over at Jamie.

He shrugs, not completely hating the idea of having these two around. “I would’ve liked to know about my new parents beforehand. What’s next? Roy’s my uncle.”

“No, he’s a granddad more than anything,” Jamie chimes in.

You wipe your cheeks and smile at him before gently pulling the tissue paper out of your way. You pull out a onesie that looks normal, until you unfold it and inspect it. You sniffle as you hold it up for Jamie to see.

He doesn’t realize why you’re crying until he reads what the back of it, “Tartt 9”. He doesn’t feel the tears trickling down his cheeks until you wipe his cheeks.

“Jaim?”

He shakes his head and pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head, over and over again.

Ted smiles behind his phone.

“We should probably give them some time alone.”

“You think?” He asks.

Beard nods.

Ted sighs, “okie dokie.”

They hold their hands up to wave, only to find your face squished against Jamie’s chest, barely able to wave them off.

You and Jamie wind up opening every one of the other gifts, enjoying each other’s company after being apart for so long.

“I think we should name it Jamie.”

“Baby Tartt is not an it, it’s a baby,” you argue.

“And we’re not naming them Jamie.”

“Why not? It’s a good name.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad name but, we want our little pumpkin to be able to grow into their own, right?”

“We-” He sighs, thinking about it, already knowing you were right. “Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Was that everything?”

“I don’t know.” He glances over, finding a bag left on the floor, partially hidden so you couldn’t find it unless you were really looking. He grabs it and sets it in your lap. “What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug and move it closer for him to open (feeling you’ve done enough of the unveiling with presents).

He pulls a figure out of the bag. “A bike?” Jamie brows furrows together in confusion until he thinks about it. The light bulb goes off in his head, everything clicking together, and he smiles.

“Is there a card?”

“I hope so.”

Now you’re confused.

He pulls out what looks like a plain index card. “Free one learn how to ride a bike pass.” He chuckles.

“I’m lost.”

“Remember how I told you I had something funny I wanted to tell you a couple months ago, but I couldn’t because the shithead was making me train, even though Ted gave us the night off.” He huffs and sits back in the chair.

“Okay, I don’t need the background information, just give me the synopsis.”

“Right,” he straightens his back. “I taught Roy how to ride a bike in memory of his granddad.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a smile.

“And he let you?”

“Not without trying to hurt me but I did it.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Yea- really?”

“Of course, I’m proud of you. You taught the world’s grumpiest man how to ride a bike and lived to tell the tale.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course, I’m right.”

“I hope the baby doesn’t get your cockiness.”

“My cockiness? What about yours?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart.”

“You lie.”

He fake gasps and slaps his hand on his chest. “I take offense to that.”

“I’m not sorry.”

“You should be. We don’t want this one’s first word to be a lie.”

“It wouldn’t, don’t be mean,” you whine.

“I’m not. I’m just being me.”

“Yeah, and that’s mean.”

He smiles and shakes his head.

You start folding a few of the blankets the guys got, feeling the need to do something. “Hey, look. They got one with sharks.”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

“Girls can like boy things too.”

“Do you really want to be asked if we have a boy or a girl every day.”

“Don’t be mean.” You smile, holding it close to your chest. “I like it. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo. Baby Tart, do do doo doo.”

He groans, “please stop.”

“Never.”

You stiffle a yawn.

“Come on,” he takes away the few things on your lap and blanket from your hands. “You need to rest.”

“But I don’t want to.”

He smiles at the whining tone in your voice. “I know but it’ll do the two of you well.”

“Fine,” you tell him with a pout. “But sit by me. I… I’ve missed you.”

“How can I say no to my girlfriend?” Jamie settles beside you and lets you lay against his chest.

As you sleep and he’s bored, searching through the hospital’s shitty channels, he stumbles upon something interesting, an old childhood show he used to watch.

You open your eyes to hear the song you briefly sang earlier.

“Doo doo. Baby Tartt, do do doo doo.”

“Jam-Jam?”

“Hey,” he clears his throat. ��How are you feeling?”

“Better. What were you doing?”

He shrugs.

You smile and snuggle back into him. “I won’t tell anyone.”

#ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt imagines #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x fem reader #jamie tartt x fem!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #jamie tartt x you #crazyk-imagine

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regulusrules · 6 months

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Yo, I saw your post about orientalism in relation to the "hollywood middle-east" tiktok!

How can a rando and university dropout get into and learn more about? Any literature or other content to recommend?

Hi!! Wow, you have no idea how you just pressed a button. I'll unleash 5+ years on you. And I'll even add for you open-sourced works that you can access as much as I can!

1. Videos

I often find this is the best medium nowadays to learn anything! I'll share with you some of the best that deal with the topic in different frames

• This is a video of Edward Said talking about his book, Orientalism. Said is the Palestinian- American critic who first introduced the term Orientalism, and is the father of postcolonial studies as a critical literary theory. In this book, you’ll find an in-depth analysis of the concept and a deconstruction of western stereotypes. It’s very simple and he explains everything in a very easy manner.

• How Islam Saved Western Civilization. A more than brilliant lecture by Professor Roy Casagranda. This, in my opinion, is one of the best lectures that gives credit to this great civilization, and takes you on a journey to understand where did it all start from.

• What’s better than a well-researched, general overview Crash Course about Islam by John Green? This is not necessarily on orientalism but for people to know more about the fundamental basis of Islam and its pillars. I love the whole playlist that they have done about the religion, so definitely refer to it if you're looking to understand more about the historical background! Also, I can’t possibly mention this Crash Course series without mentioning ... ↓

• The Medieval Islamicate World. Arguably my favourite CC video of all times. Hank Green gives you a great thorough depiction of the Islamic civilization when it rose. He also discusses the scientific and literary advancements that happened in that age, which most people have no clue about! And honestly, just his excitement while explaining the astrolabe. These two truly enlightened so many people with the videos they've made. Thanks, @sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog

2. Documentaries

• This is an AMAZING documentary called Reel Bad Arabs: How Hollywood Villifies A People by the genius American media critic Jack Shaheen. He literally analysed more than 1000 movies and handpicked some to showcase the terribly false stereotypes in western depiction of Arab/Muslim cultures. It's the best way to go into the subject, because you'll find him analysing works you're familiar with like Aladdin and all sorts.

• Spain’s Islamic Legacy. I cannot let this opportunity go to waste since one of my main scopes is studying feminist Andalusian history. There are literal gems to be known about this period of time, when religious coexistence is documented to have actually existed. This documentary offers a needed break from eurocentric perspectives, a great bird-view of the Islamic civilization in Europe and its remaining legacy (that western history tries so hard to erase).

• When the Moors Ruled in Europe. This is one of the richest documentaries that covers most of the veiled history of Al-Andalus (Muslim Spain). Bettany Hughes discusses some of the prominent rulers, the brilliance of architecture in the Arab Muslim world, their originality and contributions to poetry and music, their innovative inventions and scientific development, and lastly, La Reconquista; the eventual fall and erasure of this grand civilization by western rulers.

3. Books

• Rethinking Orientalism by Reina Lewis. Lewis brilliantly breaks the prevailing stereotype of the “Harem”, yk, this stupid thought westerns projected about arab women being shut inside one room, not allowed to go anywhere from it, enslaved and without liberty, just left there for the sexual desires of the male figures, subjugated and silenced. It's a great read because it also takes the account of five different women living in the middle east.

• Nocturnal Poetics by Ferial Ghazoul. A great comparative text to understand the influence and outreach of The Thousand and One Nights. She applies a modern critical methodology to explore this classic literary masterpiece.

• The Question of Palestine by Edward Said. Since it's absolutely relevant, this is a great book if you're looking to understand more about the Palestinian situation and a great way to actually see the perspective of Palestinians themselves, not what we think they think.

• Arab-American Women's Writing and Performance by S.S. Sabry. One of my favourite feminist dealings with the idea of the orient and how western depictions demeaned arab women by objectifying them and degrading them to objects of sexual desire, like Scheherazade's characterization: how she was made into a sensual seducer, but not the literate, brilliantly smart woman of wisdom she was in the eastern retellings. The book also discusses the idea of identity and people who live on the hyphen (between two cultures), which is a very crucial aspect to understand arabs who are born/living in western countries.

• The Story of the Moors in Spain by Stanley Lane-Poole. This is a great book if you're trying to understand the influence of Islamic culture on Europe. It debunks this idea that Muslims are senseless, barbaric people who needed "civilizing" and instead showcases their brilliant civilization that was much advanced than any of Europe in the time Europe was labelled by the Dark Ages. (btw, did you know that arabic was the language of knowledge at that time? Because anyone who was looking to study advanced sciences, maths, philosophy, astronomy etc, had to know arabic because arabic-speaking countries were the center of knowledge and scientific advancements. Insane, right!)

• Convivencia and Medieval Spain. This is a collection of essays that delve further into the idea of “Convivencia”, which is what we call for religious coexistence. There's one essay in particular that's great called Were Women Part of Convivencia? which debunks all false western stereotypical images of women being less in Islamic belief. It also highlights how arab women have always been extremely cultured and literate. (They practiced medicine, studied their desired subjects, were writers of poetry and prose when women in Europe couldn't even keep their surnames when they married.)

4. Novels / Epistolaries

• Granada by Radwa Ashour. This is one of my favourite novels of all time, because Ashour brilliantly showcases Andalusian history and documents the injustices and massacres that happened to Muslims then. It covers the cultural erasure of Granada, and is also a story of human connection and beautiful family dynamics that utterly touches your soul.

• Dreams of Trespass by Fatema Mernissi. This is wonderful short read written in autobiographical form. It deconstructs the idea of the Harem in a postcolonial feminist lens of the French colonization of Morocco.

• Scheherazade Goes West by Mernissi. Mernissi brilliantly showcases the sexualisation of female figures by western depictions. It's very telling, really, and a very important reference to understand how the west often depicts middle-eastern women by boxing them into either the erotic, sensual beings or the oppressed, black-veiled beings. It helps you understand the actual real image of arab women out there (who are not just muslims btw; christian, jew, atheist, etc women do exist, and they do count).

• Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montagu. This is a feminist travel epistolary of a British woman which covers the misconceptions that western people, (specifically male travelers) had recorded and transmitted about the religion, traditions and treatment of women in Constantinople, Turkey. It is also a very insightful sapphic text that explores her own engagement with women there, which debunks the idea that there are no queer people in the middle east.

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

With all of these, you'll get an insight about the real arab / islamic world. Not the one of fanaticism and barbarity that is often mediated, but the actual one that is based on the fundamental essences of peace, love, and acceptance.

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by-nina · 4 months

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Second Glance

AO3 | FFN Royai Week 2024 | Day 1 – Curiosity Rating: K+ (mentions of drinking) Genre: Fluff Word Count: 1,480

A/N: Happy Royai Week, my darlings! Special thanks to @kangdae95draws for making this fic possible, from ideation to fine-tuning to keeping me on schedule with your beautiful art! 🫶🏻

Her eyes are the color of deep honey, almost incandescent in the warm light of the street lamp just next to him. Soft beneath her expression. So different from how he expected them to look up close that he doesn’t notice himself leaning in curiously to see them better.

“Your eyes... they're brown,” Roy whispers before he can stop himself.

Art by @kangdae95draws

———

It’s only ten o’clock in the evening—far too early for the laughter and conversations to die down, or for the music to turn slow, or for anyone to leave the Hugheses’ housewarming party—but by this time, Roy hasn’t had more than a glass of wine, and he has already bid good night to Maes and Gracia, apologized for being unable to stay as long as he’d wanted to, and made his way to the phone in their foyer to call for a cab that will take him home.

Roy is aware of a handful of stares that follow him as he takes his coat from a hook by the door, the same earnest stares that have tried to meet his all night before he decided that he would rather they didn’t. It isn’t as if he didn’t try his best. Madame Christmas had encouraged him to head out and socialize in his free time instead of keeping to himself. Maes had hoped—firmly suggested, really—that he might meet someone he could connect with. It certainly explains the presence of Maes’ attractive cousin and Gracia’s bubbly former classmate, who heavily hinted at being single several times throughout the night.

And Roy knows that Madame Christmas, Maes, and Gracia all mean well, and that the women he met tonight truly wanted to get to know him, besides being pleasing to the eye. He wishes he could have returned their interest, pushed down the discomfort and anxiety that keep him from feigning it as well as he knows he could have. He’s never not wanted to, and just as well, he’s never been able to—not since coming home from the war, not since throwing himself into his work and coming to believe that to think of anything else would be selfish and purposeless.

So he says goodbye to no one else, exits the Hugheses’ apartment quietly, and waits on a park bench just a few paces down the road. Here, he has no one for company, nothing except the flickering street lamps and the chirping of crickets. He exhales, and in his solitude, a tension he hadn’t noticed building in his chest throughout the party dissipates almost immediately, like his misty breath into the chilly night air.

“Colonel?”

Lieutenant Hawkeye has found him. The sounds from the party and the smell of liquor seem to have followed her from the party and out through the front door of the apartment building, but Roy is thankful that it’s she and not any of the other guests who came looking.

“It’s freezing out here, Hawkeye,” Roy says, rising from the bench. “You ought to go back inside.”

She descends the steps to the sidewalk and joins him at the bench. “I wouldn’t mind staying out for some fresh air until you’re ready to rejoin the party.”

“I don’t think I’ll be returning to the party. I’ve told Hughes I’m heading home. He and Gracia were kind about it.”

Lieutenant Hawkeye tilts her head slightly and blinks. “So soon, Sir?”

“Let’s just say I’m not currently at my most sociable, and I wouldn’t want to spoil their evening because of it.” Roy shrugs with a small smile. “I’m sure they won’t miss me too badly.”

“I see.” A pause. “Will you be fine on your own?”

“I will. There’s no need to worry. And I wouldn’t want you to miss the party just to keep me company out here.”

“I actually meant to offer you a ride home, Sir.”

Roy frowns slightly at Lieutenant Hawkeye, and it’s only then that he realizes she is seemingly standing at attention. Sternly, but with a small laugh, he says, “We’re not at work, Hawkeye. I don’t expect you to attend to me. I’ll escort you back inside before you catch a cold.”

“But if we’re not at work, then it’s not an order, is it?”

First, Roy is taken aback, then he suppresses his laughter with a snort. He can’t say that he didn’t expect this kind of response from her, but her sharper jibes are rare enough that he finds himself giving them a second thought when they come. Now he finds himself looking right at her, reading the thinly veiled look of amused self-satisfaction in the slight upward curl of her lips, the barely noticeable arch of her eyebrows, and her eyes—

“Your eyes... they're brown,” Roy whispers before he can stop himself.

The question that floats to the front of his mind is even stupider—Have her eyes always been this brown?—but it’s a dangerous one as well. All at once, Roy wonders why he hadn’t stopped and noticed it before, what he expected her eye color to be, and most crucially, why it even matters—why, when all this time, she had only ever been his right hand, a capable and dependable soldier, never just a woman.

Now, he’s fixated only on how beautiful her eyes are.

He’s close enough to see the subtlest change in her expression, the nervous twitch in her nose when she says, “Are you drunk, Sir?”

He’s close enough to hear the slight quiver in her voice that suggests apprehension as well as controlled bewilderment, all underneath genuine concern. Then, he notices the flush in her cheeks, the heat radiating from her body—her pale blue dress is lovely on her, and he thinks she should dress like this more often—and, for the quickest moment, her slight wobble when she steps back an inch from him.

Roy frowns. “Hawkeye, I think you’re drunk.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she says a little too loudly. Roy jumps back slightly. She holds her shoulders rigidly and struggles to meet his gaze and now Roy can tell that what he took for shy self-consciousness is actually her attempt—no, her insistence to appear sober. At the back of his mind, he recognizes something he’s sure he’s always known about her. A self-sacrificing stubbornness that always keeps her from leaning on anyone else. He sighs.

“Lieutenant Hawkeye, I’m driving you home.”

“But I—”

“I can’t let you offer me a ride or stay here to look after yourself in this state. My conscience won’t let me.” Roy drops his voice to a gentle near whisper. “It’s all right. Let’s get your coat and keys.”

Maes is right by the door when Roy and Lieutenant Hawkeye briefly return to the party to gather her things. Roy explains the situation while ignoring the interested, almost knowing expression that slowly creeps into Maes’ face as he looks over Roy’s shoulder at Lieutenant Hawkeye. She says good night, apologizes profusely for having to leave early, then asks him to thank Gracia for her cooking. When they leave, Roy walks closer to Lieutenant Hawkeye than he often does, preparing to catch her in case she loses her footing.

It’s the first time that Roy is driving Lieutenant Hawkeye’s car. He’s more careful than usual, but it doesn’t keep his mind from wandering back to her. He notices her silence, coming from an iron will to appear put together. (He wishes she could relax for once.) He notices the faint scent of lemon and vanilla in the car, which he soon realizes is actually her perfume rather than the car freshener. Out of nowhere, he wonders if he can call her by her first name when they’re alone together like this.

The question never leaves his lips. It disappears into his chest and lodges itself in his steadily quickening heartbeat. Roy tries his best to ignore it, but it makes itself felt when he looks up through the windshield and wonders, were the stars over Central always this bright? Was the city this peaceful at night even during the war? Have any of the lovers still walking down the street at this hour known each other as long as he and Lieutenant Hawkeye have?

And when Riza—when Lieutenant Hawkeye wakes up in the morning, will she be all right? Will she have the same tea that she has always had since they were growing up together in her hometown? Will she read the paper; will she head to the market?

Roy catches a smile growing on his lips, the kind he’s sure Madame Christmas and Maes and Gracia have all been hoping to see on him since heaven knows when. But at this very moment, on the drive back to East City, he can’t afford to think of them or all the reasons they have been worrying about his solitude. Instead, he straightens his face to focus on the road. There are miles yet ahead of them.

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waitineedaname · 8 months

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Finally, after months of work, I have completed it: the collection of all* character appearances in Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood!

edit: if you want a more detailed spreadsheet on the homunculi in particular, @vuullets has a collection of all homunculi appearances in the manga! you can find it here

Some notes on this spreadsheet:

there are spoilers. obviously. proceed with caution

timestamps indicate when a character first appears in a scene, not every time they appear. if the scene changes to one without that character, and then we return to that character in another scene, that's another timestamp for a new appearance

all timestamps are approximate, give or take a few seconds based on how quickly I could pause the show

only unique flashbacks count as an appearance. if the flashback is to something we've seen in a previous episode, that is not counted as a unique appearance, but if it provides something new that we haven't seen before, it counts!

I didn't include background easter egg appearances, like when you can see Mei in the background at a train station before she's introduced

I didn't actually do all characters. there are a lot of characters, and I am just one person. sorry if you're a big fan of minor members of the military, i just couldn't do it

since Greed is kind of a special case, he deserves a specific explanation: OG Greed and Greedling are not counted as separate characters, they're both just Greed. when Greed is in control of Ling's body, that counts as an appearance for Greed, and it's not an appearance for Ling unless he's in control. if they're both in a scene together (talking in the mindscape, for example, or switching control back and forth) they each get a timestamp for when they first appear/speak in a scene

feel free to use this as a reference! I made this as a useful tool for myself, and because I'm a nerd about data. if you are also a nerd about data, I tallied up some stats, which I'll put under the cut:

only six characters broke 30 episodes. the characters with the most appearances are Edward (60), Alphonse (58), Mustang (45), Hawkeye (42), Scar (40), and Winry (31).

next highest on the list are Alex Armstrong and Mei (tied for 29), King Bradley (28), Hohenheim (26), and Ling (25).

the homunculus in the most episodes is Wrath (28), and the one in the least is Lust (11)

as previously mentioned, Alex Armstrong and Mei are in the same number of episodes (29), as are Olivier Armstrong and Marcoh (24), and Buccaneer and Ross (18)

Hughes is in only 10 episodes, the same number as Grumman and Fu

Yoki is in a whopping 23 episodes. what the fuck

the chimera in the most episodes is Zampano (21), closely followed by Darius and Jerso (20), with Heinkel falling behind at 16. The Devil's Nest chimeras are only in 2 episodes, with the exception of Bido, who is in 3

#fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #I feel like I should make a specific tag for when I do. stuff like this.#I love. spreadsheets. I love data collection #anyway please enjoy! I've been working on this for six months!#sol collects data #<- I've decided that will be my tag #tallying up appearances made me mad. which is not a surprise to me #scar is in 40 episodes and yet the fandom bias completely sidelines him. I'm not mad. I feel normal about this. <- seething #I guess I'm also guilty of paying more attention to characters in fewer episodes considering greed is in only 18 episodes #BUT STILL. justice for my guy scar. he's an extremely prominent character and should be treated as such

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longwuzhere · 1 year

Text

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers

My episode 1 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 2 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 3 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 4 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 5 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 6 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My second half of Episode 7 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 8 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 9 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 10 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

(SPOILERS if you haven't seen the show yet):

We start things off with the title of the episode, "Kiss Kiss Fall in Portal" a fun nod to the lyrics of Ouran High School Host club's OP, Sakura Kiss by Chieko Kawabe. Very apt since Clark wanted to show the cherry blossoms to Lois on their date.

Next Jimmy razzing Clark for his extremely scheduled date plans for Lois and razzing Lois for her gift to Clark. Each of them reference what happened in previous episodes. With the first thing Clark and Lois I talked about it here and the second thing Clark mentioned I talked about it here.

After we cut back from Lois and Jimmy picking up Lois's dry cleaning, we meet the villain of the episode, Mr. Mxyztplk. In the comics, Mxy makes his first appearance in Superman #30 (1944) by Joe Shuster, Jerry Seigel, and Ira Yarbrough as you can see in the page above this text. Mxy is a 5th dimension imp who plays jokes and pranks on Superman and can only be rid of if Mxy says his name backwards. Yeah Mxy is a MAJORLY annoying thorn at Clarks side. MAwS Mxy, as you can tell has a DRASTIC overhaul in design kinda shares color and design choices with Whis from the Dragon Ball Super anime. Also in the show Mxy is a chaos god compared to the annoying imp in the comics.

Classic way to describe Clark Kent. That's a given in any Superman media.

Next we see Mxy mess with Clark by snapping him into his various Superman animation incarnations from the Max Fleischer cartoons, the Superfriends cartoons, and the cartoon that introduced Superman to me, Superman the Animated Series. Shout out to the MAwS team for remembering to give StAS Superman the darker trunks. People often forget that. Same with the red belt on the Fleisher Superman and the cape circling behind the neck of Superfriends Superman when usually the cape exposes the next a lot more too. Very good attention to detail.

With Lois and Jimmy they meet alternate versions of themselves. We meet two different Loises and one Louis Lane. There actually is a Louis Lane in the comics who has connections to Mxyzptlk.

In Superman #349 (1980) (W: Martin Pasko, P: Curt Swan, I: Frank Chiaramonte, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda), Clark is forced into a genderbent world thanks to Mxyzptlk where he meets, as you can see on the page, gender flipped versions of his Daily Planet colleagues. Clark is eventually able to escape the world and defeat Mxy where he actually meet Louis Lane, Lois Lane's legit cousin. Bonus fun fact Osric Chau who voices Louis Lane, was the Atom/Ryan Choi on the CW DC shows

The League of Loises have a ship that's kinda similar to one of the ships designed by Rian Hughes and Grant Morrison on the Multiverse Map. I talked more about that map and the multiverse here

Lois Prime here shares similar designs to Fleischer Studios' Lois Lane. Very good homage to the look.

Next scene is EASTER EGGS GALORE and the section that took the longest for me to do. When Mxy and Clark break into the Science and Superhero Museum that Lois Prime created, we see a mace and an elaborately designed box of some sort. If you know your DC universe, these two things are a Thanagarian (alien hawk people) Nth Metal (strongest metal in the DC universe) Maces that is usually wielded by Hawkman and Hawkwoman/girl (as you can see both of them wielding their own respective maces on the comic covers here. The first one is from Justice League #15 (2019) done by Jim Cheung Tomey Moreu and the second cover is from Hawkman #1 (2018) done by Stjepan Šejić) and the box is a Mother Box from the New Gods. The Nth Metal mace makes its first debut in the Brave and the Bold #34 (1961) though it resembles more like flails and even then the Nth metal mace is a morningstar, but its alien technology maybe Thanagarians call these weapons maces where here we call it a morningstar.

Mother Boxes are basically supercomputers that the New Gods use. Created by Jack Kirby and debuted in the Forever People #1 (1971), Mother Boxes have a wide range of uses from energy and molecule manipulation, energy transferring, Boom Tube summoning to travel inter-dimensionally or inter-/intra- galactically, machine manipulation. The page from Who's Who-The Definitive Directory of the DC Universe #16 (1986) explains what a Mother Box is in full detail.

The camera then shifts and we see a Green Lantern Power Battery, a T-Sphere, and a book on display. The farthest item is an obvious one, a Power Battery that Green Lantern uses to recharge the Power Ring. This version of the Power Battery and Green Lantern make their debut in Showcase 22 (1959). The final two panels from the comic (W: Jon Broome, P: Gil Kane, I: Joe Giella, L: Gaspar Saladino) shows Hal Jordan recharging the ring with the Power Battery.

T-Spheres are floating spheres used by Mr. Terrific aka Michael Holt. These spheres can form laser grids, act as sensor arrays, bombs, record video and audio, hack into computers, display holograms, and discharge electricity to shock things or people. They make their debut in JSA #11 (2000) as seen there in the middle two panels (W: Geoff Johns, David Goyer, P: Buzz, I: Michael Bair, C: John Kalisz, L: Ken Lopez).

The book is a little harder to pinpoint, but my guess is this is the Book of Souls/the Cosmic Log/The Book of Destiny. If Lois Prime is able to find all this stuff and is able to preserve it in a museum, I wouldn't be surprised if Destiny of the Endless gave her an inert copy of the book for the museum. The book makes its debut in Weird Mystery Tales #1 (1972) (Page art by Michael Kaluta). The book records everything that is, was, and will be. If you haven't read the comics, you might have seen it be used on the CW DC shows rewriting the histories of their characters.

Ok so at the moment I am near the end of my 30 images limit so I will be making another post to hopefully finish the rest, but in the meantime, now that you are down here, feel free to check out the other easter eggs and references posts -

My episode 1 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 2 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 3 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 4 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My episode 5 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 6 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My second half of Episode 7 easter egs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 8 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 9 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Episode 10 easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

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lokiiied · 1 year

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OH. MY. GODDDD I DONT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START GUYS. THIS EPISODE WAS PERFECTION. LIKE…EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED (MINUS THREESOME BUT I HONEST TO GOD THINK I MIGHT GET IT NEXT EP) HOLY SHIT!!

JAMIE TRAUMA ADDRESSED. JAMIE’S MUM AND STEP DAD. ROY AND KEELEY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT. THE POSTERS OF HIS LOVES IN HIS ROOM. BEST PLAYER!! TRULY THE HEART OF RICHMOND. BRAVEST BOY!! EVERYONE’S PROUD OF HIM. HE DESERVES IT. HE KNOWS HE DOES. HIS DAD KNOWS IT. IN REHAB. I’M NOT CRYING. JAMIE TARTT DOO DOO DO DO DO DOO

TEDS MUM. HIS TRAUMA. HIS ANGER.

TRENT AND TEDS MUM??!

COLIN HUGHES. AN INSPIRATION.

VAN DAMME GETTING THE RECOGNITION HE DESERVES.

TED AND BEARD LORE FINALLY.

BEARD AND NATE. JADE AND NATE. COLIN ISAAC WILL ASKING NATE TO COME BACK. HE WANTS TO COME BACK.

BEX AND RUPERTS PREV ASSISTANT COMING TO REBECCA.

NO FORCED ATP TEDBECCA. THEY’RE JUST BESTIES!!

DID I MENTION WE HAVE ROY X JAMIE X KEELEY (PLATONIC) AND THAT NEXT EPISODE LOOKS ACTUALLY PROMISING I AM REMOVING MY CLOWN MAKEUP IDC

I LOVE THIS FUCKING SHOW SO MUCH I DON’T WANT TED TO LEAVE PLEASE HIS FAMILY IS HERE JUST SHIP HENRY OVER

EDIT: OH YEAH AND FUCKING PEP GUARDIOLA?? SLAY!!!

#ted lasso #ted lasso spoilers #ted lasso 3x11 #jamie tartt #roy kent #roy x jamie #keeley jones #roy x keeley #roy x keeley x jamie #ot3 #colin hughes #thierry van damme #coach beard #nathan shelley #jade ted lasso #rebecca welton #trent crimm #tedbecca

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qs63 · 1 year

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Roy's lack of self-preservation

This took me a long time to write. Sorry about that. My health took a hit this past month (Don't worry, I'm alright).

Here is a bit of a deconstruction of Roy's character, the way he sees himself, and how that translates into a complete lack of self-preservation.

Roy's fatalism

For someone who is supposedly an idealist Roy sure has a fatalist view of life.

In the OVA "Yet another man's battlefield", Roy tells Hughes that he wants to defend his country and doesn't care if he dies doing so. To which Hughes replies that he doesn't want to die for the sake of anything (ironic, I know). Two years later, when Riza asks Roy not to die, he responds that he can't guarantee he won't die like a piece of trash on the sideway.

You could argue that Roy is being realistic, but I disagree. Roy is after all an idealist by his own admission, and this fatalistic POV is a complete contradiction to the naive way in which he regards his role as a soldier — as a protector rather than as a murderer, which Kimblee later calls out during Ishval. Not to mention that this is unusually pessimistic coming from a young person. See the way Hughes, Heathcliff, and even Riza talk about their own goals in the military. None of them is constantly reaffirming their own mortality.

Perhaps, this comes from Roy's Alchemist nature— from the deep ingrained belief of equivalent exchange. Perhaps, it comes from the characters' unknown past. Whatever the reason, there's no denying that to Roy his own life is something he is willing to trade off for the greater good. By this I doesn't mean he is suicidal. He is not. What I mean is that for Roy everything else comes before his own survival, and this is something that reflects in much more than just his speech.

Roy's reckless fighting style

We all remember Riza sweeping in to Roy's rescue when he's about to fight Scar under the rain. This is not an accident or him just being forgetful. Roy is actually arrogant to the point of recklessness when it comes to his own abilities. He's the sort of person that stages an intricate plan to rescue one soldier from execution, and then marches himself right into the wolf's mouth because he is THAT confident he can deal with any repercussions.

Which… he is not, but he has good reasons to believe he is.

It is easy to overlook because the main characters are alchemists, but Alchemy is very rare and powerful in the world of FMA. It is the sole reason Amestris is a superpower despite being such a small country. In the manga (not so much in Brotherhood), we are constantly reminded that normal people don't understand Alchemy, and the State Alchemists are dehumanized, often compared to human weapons, monsters, and/or gods.

Roy's alchemy, in particular, is extremely dangerous. Even among the Homunculi, there are few individuals that can stand up to the might of Roy's full power. This is why he believes himself invincible. Ishval taught Roy the strength of Flame alchemy, and the horrors it can cause in the wrong hands. As its wielder this makes Roy powerful and dangerous.

A monster among humans.

As such in Roy's mind he's an invincible monster whose life is unimportant when compared to his goals and the life of those he's sworn to protect. This is why for Roy facing actual monsters (the Homunculi) is such a humbling and humanizing experience. This is why he tells Riza:

Now you see why Roy marches forward recklessly and without hesitation. It's a combination of his lack of self-worth, and the knowledge that he wields a power few people can match.

But Roy's lack of self-preservation goes even beyond his speech and fighting style.

Roy's lifestyle

This mentality that he is a monster whose only purpose is to serve others permeates Roy's lifestyle. The idea that Riza is the stern one that takes her job too seriously and that Roy is the frivolous one that prefers to enjoy life is hilariously ironic. The narrative shows us almost the opposite story.

We see Riza out doing groceries on her day off. We see her shopping clothes with Rebecca. We see her taking Hayate out for walks. We see her having a shower after work and putting on comfy clothes at home. We see her having a life outside of the military, even if adjacent to it.

In the meantime, Roy is always in the office. He sleeps in the break room. He cleans himself in the public restroom. He eats in the mess hall. Badly so at times as we get a comment about his weight from Armstrong. When he goes out on dates or to drink, we are shown he's actually gathering intel. The one time we see him in his apartment he's sleeping on the goddamn couch still in his crumpled uniform.

There are no comfy Pjs in his home. No long showers. No pets to keep him company. No days off with his friends.

And this all makes sense, because monsters that only exist to protect others don't need comfort.

They need to make themselves useful.

When Riza tells Roy to think more of himself. When Riza tells Ed that Roy will pay the price alone and make sure his subordinates escape punishment. When Arakawa jokes that Riza needs to remind Roy how to take care of himself. It is because Roy has never bothered to keep himself alive beyond what's needed to fulfill his duties, and Riza knows it.

Roy is a barely functional human disaster with zero sense of self-preservation. The only reason he's alive is because he's had people like Hughes (vs Heathcliff), Riza (so many times), and even the Elrics (vs gluttony) sweep in and save his ass every time he's about to kick the bucket.

I have some theories and headcanons about why Roy might have ended up being this way. I will maybe post them on a later date.

Thanks for reading! ^ ^

#roy mustang #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fullmetal alchemist #fma meta #meta #my work #no wonder Riza has anxiety about him lol #ps: I'm still working on fics lol #Ithink one may be ready in the next two weeks

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nerdgirljen · 4 months

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NEW Ted Lasso Candle Line from Jen & Jute Candle, Co.

Yes, I've made clear recently that my love of Ted Lasso was renewed when rewatching the series these last few weeks of a minor depressive episode. It's a comfort for me, and it got me to thinking that I could easily create a new candle line based around fan favorite characters in the series... so that's what I did.

I mentioned some scents in an earlier post, but here are the finalized scent profiles and label designs.

LET'S GOOO! for Coach Beard - Nordic Night (notes of pine, berries, and snow)

BOY-O for Colin Hughes - Oak and Cedar (this is our version of Bath and Body's Oak for Men)

FOOTBALL IS LIFE for Dani Rojas - Coconut Lime

FLANEUR BY NATURE for Higgins - Rainbow Sherbet (also a nod to Mrs. Higgins)

BRUV for Isaac McAdoo - Citrus and Bergamot (our version of Graphite by Bath and Body Works)

SEXY LITTLE BABY for Jamie Tartt (do do do do do) - Citrus, Musk, and Confidence (or fuckboy - this is our version of FIERCE by Abercrombie & Fitch)

THE INDEPENDENT WOMAN for Keeley Jones - Cherry and Almond

WONDER KID for Nathan Shelley - Mahogany and Teakwood

BOSS-ASS BITCH for Rebecca - Black Cherry Merlot

F*CK for Roy Kent - Fresh Brewed Coffee

BE A GOLDFISH for Sam Obisanya - Citrus and Mahogany (this is our version of Bath and Body's Woodland Citrus)

BELIEVE for Teddy Lasso - Irish Green (our duplicate of Irish Spring)

THE HAIR & THE VIBE for Trent Crimm - Sweet Orange and Sriracha

The line IS live on Etsy right now, and the link below will take you RIGHT to the new candle line.

As a bonus, I did add a new celebrity to our Fangirl Faves celebrity scent line: Jason Sudeikis! I volleyed back and forth on what scent to use before finally finding a Coffee and Whiskey fragrance oil that smells DIVINE!

#ted lasso #ted lasso gifts #jason sudeikis #leslie higgins #jamie tartt #dani rojas #colin hughes #sam obisanya #isaac mcadoo #keeley jones #rebecca wells #coach beard #trent crimm #nathan shelley #afc richmond #jsuds

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pinkcupofcherrytea · 1 month

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RoyEd Week 2024: Day One

Prompt: "Need a hand?"

Regency/Pride and Prejudice!AU, Friends (?) with Benefits, They Haven’t Confessed Yet But It’s A Thing For Sure, Involuntary Dancing.

Warnings: Some mentioned NSFW. Comment: This was supposed to be way longer and more strictly follow the Pride and Prejudice-formula (with added nsfw-scenes, lol). But I was lazy, and ran out of time, so this is what came of it in the end. Thanks to @royedweek2023 for hosting this week!❤️

[You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. - Bridgerton]

The opulence and brilliance of Lord Armstrong's ballroom had managed to give Roy a headache, or maybe it was just the continuous tittering of Mrs. Weignar that furthered it. Roy tries to be discreet, glancing around the hall until he catches Riza's dark blue dress in the corner.

Please, save me, he gestures.

No, she blinks back.

They have no sign for "you're evil" so Roy sighs and resigns himself to another evening of polite small talk and some equally polite fendering off the hands of sons and daughters of ambitious mothers wishing for a profitable union. Just as Roy considers using Aunt Chris's tried and true method of faking a fainting spell to get out of the conversation, a small buzz is heard close to the entrance, and he turns his head to catch the big smile of Maes and his wife, the latter clad elegantly in pale lavender and matching gloves.

Behind them stride two golden figures.

Roy grins inwardly, and politely bids Mrs. Weignar and her daughter goodbye. "I must greet my old friend Mr. Hughes, you see, hope you will excuse me."

"Mustang!" Maes greets jovially when Roy gets close. "Thought I'd see your face here. Now where is lady Hawkeye? Surprised to see her letting you lose on the innocent crowd."

"I thought it prudent to let him socialize, lest he closes himself of in his estate and decides to communicate with the world entirely through letters," Riza smoothly joins in.

"The both of you have such a low opinion on my character," Roy says, and the buzz of the hall isn't loud enough for the following mutter of "The correct opinion" to go unheard.

Roy smiles, turns toward the sound and makes sure his voice is annoyingly polite when he says, "Mr Elric, how nice of you to join us this evening."

Edward's eyes flashes when he tips his head back slightly to meet Roy's eyes. "Didn't have much of a choice."

"What my brother meant to say-" Alphonse smoothly cuts in, "is that it's always a pleasure to see you, Mr Mustang, Lady Hawkeye."

Riza greets both brothers and Roy nods warmly at Alphonse, but can't help but quickly look down (ha!) to meet Edward's eyes again. "It has been a while since our last acquaintance," Roy says. "The gathering at McDougal Hall, I believe?" Edward snorts. "I haven't exactly counted the days." Roy had. Considering it was the last time he'd had the chance to fuck Edward into a wall and bury his tongue in his mouth while doing it, Roy had in fact counted the days until he got to do it again. And from the brief flash in Edward's eyes when he mentioned the event, Roy would bet the young man has a similar idea. McDougal Hall was crowded and noisy. It was all too easy to slip away from the festivities and then find an empty room in what Roy was pretty sure was close to the servants' wing. Edward's eyes following him, ablaze, from the other side of the room, making sure his brother was busy dancing with a pretty brunette before sneaking after Roy. He pulls Edward into the room, and soon their usual dance of push and pull, warmth and wetness starts as they kiss deeply. The heat in Edward's eyes was finally put to rest when he closed his eyes and moaned into the kiss as Roy pulled his shirt out of his pants.

The Edward of now looked away, and accepted the glass Hughes gave him with a murmur of thanks.

The night continued, and despite some attempts to catch Edward alone, Roy gets pulled into conversation, and by the time he looks out over the hall again, the sky outside the windows is fully dark, and Edward is gone. Roy straightens and looks for the familiar shine of gold among those present, but only catches Alphonse talking happily to the Hugheses .

At least that meant Edward was still here.

As he starts to walk over to where his dearest friend is, Roy catches a flash outside one of the larger windows close to the door leading to the estate's rose-cladden balcony. Walking closer, he catches a glimpse of someone that was surely Edward walking down the steps into the sparsely lit up garden.

After making sure no one is looking his way, Roy slips out the door. He walks closer to the large balcony's edge and finally sees Ed's smaller figure sprawling on one of the stone benches down in the garden, surrounded by some smaller trees that probably gave the illusion of privacy. Leaning down on the cool stone, Roy allows himself a moment to just....watch.

Edward in silence and solitude was a rare occurrence, often only seen when catching him in the library with his nose stuck in a book, so Roy spends a few seconds looking as Edward tips his head back and visibly takes a couple of deeper breaths.

Roy pushes himself up from where he'd leaned on his elbow and leaves the glass on the balcony as he strides down into the garden.

A familiar, small wrinkle appears between Edward's eyebrows as he hears Roy get closer, but when he sees who it is it smooths out and he says, "Oh, it's only you."

"Do not sound so disappointed," Roy says, "It hurts my feelings."

"You have feelings?"

"Very funny."

"I always am." Edward makes a gesture with his gloved hand and Roy cannot hold back an undignified snort. He catches Edward grinning before he looks down. "What are you doing out here, anyway? Did you get tired of stomping at innocent debutantes' feet?"

Roy sits down on the bench next to Edward. "I don't know if you are insinuating that I am a bad dancer, or if you are sneakily trying to get me to abuse your poor feet, but I am willing to take you up on the challenge, Edward."

Edward glares at him. "Do I look like a high-strung debutanté to you? No- don't you dare, don't answer that question," Edward quickly adds as he sees Roy open his mouth to answer.

Roy grins at Edward, then cocks his head. "I do not think I've ever seen you abuse someone's feet, though, Edward, nor do I recall you successfully partaking in social dancing either. Maybe you should prove yourself capable before questioning my dancing skills."

“I don’t need to prove anything to you,” Edward says. “It’s not like I ever learnt how to dance, anyhow.”

He raises an eyebrow at Roy’s surprised blink, then throws his head back and groans, “For heaven’s sake, do you really believe that all people spend a significant amount of their childhood learning how to dance at these pompous events? I don’t know what silver spoon you were born with in your mouth, Mustang, but I had better things to do than learn the quadrille.”

Roy, in lack of anything else to say, says, “Yes, I’m sure your education was too preoccupied with other things rather than the fine arts, but you’ve spent more than eight months at the ton now, shouldn’t Hughes have made sure to have you taught by now?”

Edward just snorts, then closes his eyes again.

“Have better things to do, thanks.”

Roy remains silent at that and rises from the bench, stretching furtively before looking down at the golden crown of Edward's head.

Edward Elric inspired whispers wherever he went. Not so much for any specific action taken or honour besmirched, but rather for his entire being, his bearance and air, being eye-catching. It brought the air of scandalousness–his long hair tied behind him, his red coat and loud speech, short stature but carrying heavy steps–without there ever being any evidence of unconducted behaviour. It probably would be the cause of real concern for his guardians hadn't Edward shown a complete disregard for the attention and uproar his being naturally caused.

Always noticeable, that Mr. Elric, even when always preferring a book before hunting or riding. It wasn’t his lack of fortune that made mothers pull away their bright-eyed, eager daughters who fluttered around hoping to catch Edward’s fetching golden eye, rather it was the weary thought that surely that boy was too much, not proper, set to ruin their children’s honour…? Obsession was an unpredictable feeling, yet it was that very thing that Edward Elric, not yet twenty, inspired whenever he broke his solitude by accompanying his younger brother to social events.

Not marriageable for someone like Roy, certainly, with Edward’s dubious background. Hughes might have taken the two Elric brothers in and they might excel in their studies at university while being able to charm half the ton with their looks, but their lineage can barely be traced; orphaned and brought up in a small village by mere merchants, and while the Curtises, as it were, seems perfectly courteous in the letters they send, Edward is hardly born a gentleman.

And yet, here I am.

Roy puts his open palm in front of Edward's face, who flinches back in surprise.

Roy smiles, "Need a hand?"

Edward looks at his hand, looks up, then down again before he scoffs and accepts the assistance, only for Roy to pull him upward and forwards into his arms.

"What the-!"

"Be careful," Roy says, "I wouldn't want to accidentally step on a foot."

"Fuck you," Edward says as he tries to pull away, "I just told you, I don't know how to dance!"

"And how will you ever learn, dear Edward, if you never practice? Have in mind those who wish to dance with you, or you’ll break their hearts." Because Edward was caught by surprise, Roy manages to lead the two of them further in so they're more hidden by the thick branches above, while he simultaneously starts the steps of a Polish Waltz.

Edward stumbles on the steps. Tries to pull himself free while swearing at Roy rather excessively, in Roy's opinion.

"If you aren't quiet," Roy says, "we won't be able to match the music."

That brings Edward to a stop, and Roy can practically hear what music? before Edward catches the same thing Roy did. Either Roy left the balcony door open earlier, or someone's been out since, but the music from the ballroom can be vaguely heard from their place of hiding. The smooth sound of a violin; the whistling of a clarinet.Their [something] waltz is surely not matched by the current dancing inside, but Roy made the very rational decision the lead Edward into a dance where he has a smaller opportunity for escape.

Edward is quieter now as Roy pulls him back and forward. Roy catches himself smiling softly when Edward looks down and makes an actual attempt to match his steps to Roy's.

"Eyes up," he reminds and Edward snatches his head up to scowl at Roy.

"I'm trying, am I not?"

"That you are," Roy says, and then briefly lets go of Edward's waist to tap him on his sinking chin again and Edward quickly raises his head, "But still, don't look down."

Edward grumbles something--probably untoward--but surprisingly obeys and attempts to follow the steps while stubbornly glaring at Roy with a truly spectacular scowl.

There is something warm in the pit of Roy’s stomach, aching gently as they both move in what must be the most rudimentary dance of waltz Roy’s ever performed.

He finds that he doesn’t mind that. Not at all.

"See?" Roy points out after they did a successful turn, and managed to not step into a well-maintained flowerbed. "You're a natural."

Edward huffs out a laugh, more of a grunt than anything, but when he tips his head back to meet Roy’s eyes the light from the estate behind them makes the gold in Edward’s eyes glow even brighter, and Roy is, for a moment, breathless.

#royedweek2024 #royed #edroy #haven't read through it super carefully so might change errors later #first fic i write for this fandom and this ship #and also the first fic that i've finished in years i think?#truly need to get back into writing again #my writing

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flameleads · 3 months

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right where you left me

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist Characters: Roy Mustang, Maes Hughes, mention of Gracia Hughes, mention Chris "Madame Christmas" Mustang, mention of Elicia Hughes. Trigger Warnings: Major character death, war, genocide. Summary: You met someone, and she wasn’t me. I should’ve been happy for you. Why couldn’t I move?

Read on AO3 or below:

“I’ve met someone. Her name is Gracia. Roy, I think you’ll really like her! She’s incredible! She…”

Your words became background noise with the rest of the bar chatter. The seat cushion underneath me felt stiff when, two minutes ago, I knew it to be soft, and the lighting above us was too bright when I knew it to be dim. My vision clouded in milliseconds as tears threatened to pour out of my eyes like waterfalls, and I thanked a deity I didn’t believe in that I learned not to cry. Out of everything that ever caused me to cry—burns from practicing alchemy on the Hawkeye estate, minor scrapes and bruises when I ran around Central, punches to the face from fights in the schoolyard—this was direct. A heart didn’t have the ability to fracture. It wasn’t supposed to. But, that didn’t explain why I felt pieces of mine shattering on the wooden floor of the bar.

That might take some work to clean up. It didn’t break evenly, and I couldn’t control where it fell. Sorry, Madame.

I should’ve been elated you met someone. You were smiling. I heard it in your voice, how it rose when you describe meeting her at a coffee shop, and she gave you the time of day. I should have congratulated you on having the courage to ask her out, teased you about wanting to buy everything from the florist when you didn’t know what she liked. Pink or white carnations would do. I knew flowers, you said, and I should have felt honored that you trusted me with this information, that you came to me and none of our other buddies from the academy first. I should have been happy.

It should not have taken a sizable effort to smile back at you. I hoped you didn’t see that it took me several seconds into you regaling me with this information for me to smile. I knew what to say, though: get her a white carnation or two since they were relatively inexpensive, they would compliment her green eyes, and they meant, among a few things, innocence. The weather should be fine on the night of your date, but you should bring a coat just in case she gets cold. A little cologne goes a long way, and you don’t need to overdo it. Brush your teeth and iron your clothes before your date so she sees you care about yourself. Ask her about herself, what she likes to do, what kind of music she likes, what she cares about, and spend more time listening than talking. She’ll like that.

“I knew it was a good idea to talk to you. Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“Could you pick my heart up off the floor and fuse it back together? I’m not sure how you would do that. Perhaps you could tell me you loved me once?”

I knew better than to say that aloud. No, I just shook my head.

“That favor can be treating her well, all right, Hughes?”

You smiled back at me, and that felt like your boot crunching into the shards of my heart on the floor and breaking it more. When you left, and I stayed in the booth in the corner of the bar, you walked right past it. The second the door of the bar closed, and you were on the other side, I let my smile join it along with the tears I held in. They slid down my cheeks, the salt stinging my eyes, and the bar around me stopped existing. The sound of clicking heels and faint music became silent, and the walls around me blurred. I didn’t hear footsteps approaching, nor did I feel the light squeeze on my shoulder from the Madame. The unfinished drinks in front of me—one of them mine, and the other yours—sat untouched collecting dust. I collected dust.

You met someone, and she wasn’t me.

I should’ve been happy for you.

Why couldn’t I move?

Our clothes changed as armies and time marched forward. Blue uniforms covered by white cloaks to block out the desert sun, I almost didn’t recognize you. Your eyes saw the death that your hands caused, and it changed you just like the fire forged me. Did you see the smoke from nearby sectors? Hear the stories of the demon who left no survivors because his flames left no escape routes? That was what our own soldiers called me, and they did little to hide it. I couldn’t blame them, not when it was the truth.

You didn’t call me that when we met again. No, you somehow found a reason to smile at me, like seeing me alive was a victory and enough to celebrate. After all, so many of our classmates and comrades died on this battlefield.

For a few minutes, I let myself believe that I was your reason to smile, and I was happy to be alive. As death cornered us from every side, the smell clinging to our too-clean uniforms, and sand for miles in each direction, and gunshots, artillery, and screams deafening us, I felt my shoulders relax for the first time in months. My heart, glued back together, beat in my chest like nothing ever happened to it. I could talk to you. I felt like I could breathe.

“There’s a letter for you.” A messenger for you, not me. I tried to ignore the writing on the envelope. It was nothing. It was fine.

“It’s my ‘beautiful future.’”

My heart fell, and I stopped breathing.

“Gracia… Your woman?”

It shattered again on the wooden floor of the bar, the glue I used not strong enough to hold it together. Those words I uttered felt like someone else puppetered my body from far away. It was in the desert in Ishval having a conversation with you while the rest of me sat in the bar, our drinks unfinished on the table. Was the desert heat making it difficult for me to breathe, or was it you rambling about the possibility of another man making a move on your girl? Did the sun temporarily blind me, or were those tears threatening to blur my vision?

No. Not here. You were still in front of me. I had to wait until you left me again.

What words came out of my mouth next? Cruel ones, I’m sure. I learned pinpoint accuracy with fire. I could kill you where you stood in seconds, and no one would find your ashes. The only one who’d know would be me.

Irrelevant. You didn’t die. You lived. I could never hurt you like that, never mind kill you.

You’d survive this. You’d go home. You’d go back to her.

You met someone, and she wasn’t me.

I should’ve been happy for you.

The sand stayed in our boots long after we left the desert. White cloaks went into storage as we received promotions for surviving and causing death, the latter prioritized. At my corner in the bar, I didn’t tell you how heavy those stars and bars felt on my uniform or how the red on my gloves might as well have been blood. It’s not what I originally stitched them with, but, when you’re at war, you make do. I kept those thoughts to myself, drowning them in expensive whiskey my Lieutenant Colonel’s salary could afford.

Besides, you knew those thoughts already. You had similar ones. You just swallowed them in favor of something better.

“Roy, I’m asking you to be my Best Man. There’s no one else I trust more than you.”

I stitched my heart back together like the medics did so many soldiers on the front lines. It was stronger than glue. After all, we had to be sure our soldiers could go back out there and fight. My heart ached at those words, sure, but it didn’t fall apart. I did something right this time.

It was almost easy to smile at you, say yes, and say I would love nothing more. I’ve been an actor my entire life, and this was another role assigned to me. That was all this was. I knew how to play this part with precision. The difference here was that I could use pinpoint accuracy in a suit as opposed to my suit, and there would be no gloves required. No one would die. Instead, new life would blossom, a new family—your family.

I did as much as you let me. Gracia loved the carnation from your first date, so I ensured you had some present along with other flowers such as baby’s breath and roses. You invited her family and yours along with some friends, and I made sure those invitations got out. The cake came from a bakery I knew and recommended in Central while her family was more than gracious enough to take care of the reception hall. We tried on suits together with the knowledge I would be teaching you how to tie a bowtie over and over again. It was another part of my role, and I accepted it. I prepared for it.

Every step of the way, you counted down the days, babbling about how you looked forward to married life with her, and the stitching on my heart held together. I was proud of my work.

I was so proud of my work, in fact, that I thought it meant I didn’t love you anymore. All it took was you on the day of your wedding to prove I was a damn fool. With your bowtie on straight, I started working on mine, and I didn’t notice you staring at me.

“You know, Roy, you better let me return the favor someday.”

I dared to look up at you: my first mistake. Your hazel eyes had a soft glow to them, almost on the verge of tears. I imagined there would be a lot of crying today, which was why I kept a handkerchief for you in my breast pocket right next to your ring. Did you need it now?

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I hope I get to tie your bowtie for you one day.”

“That’d require you to remember how.” Was I missing something? I always tied my own. There wouldn’t ever be a time when I would need you to—

“When you find someone you love enough to marry and spend the rest of your life with, I’ll remember how!”

Oh.

My stitching hadn’t been enough. I felt it come undone in milliseconds, and my heart fell out of my chest and to the wooden floor of the bar. Unfinished drinks on the table, a seat cushion that no longer felt comfortable underneath me, the radio playing jazz in the background, chatter from clientele—I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t hear anything but my heart breaking. My vision started to cloud from what I surmised were tears.

I couldn’t let it. I couldn’t cry. Then you’d ask why, and I’d have to conjure up a lie good enough to convince you, and I didn’t have the heart to do it.

So I didn’t. I forced a smile as I shook my head.

“Don’t worry about me, Hughes. Just focus on your big day. We don’t want to keep Gracia waiting.”

A part of me wondered if you let me shift the conversation. You moved on, and you married your future: Gracia. You did cry that day, and you borrowed the handkerchief I had in my pocket. I stood by, smiled, and I made a speech at some point like a good best man. I kept a copy of it written down in case you wanted it as a memento. You liked to keep photographs and memories of things to hold onto. You could look at it again in a scrapbook as you remember this day, and, maybe then, you’ll see what I meant when I told Gracia she was a lucky woman.

You met someone, and she wasn’t me.

The train departed the next day for East City, and that was where I stayed. My duties as a Lieutenant Colonel weighed heavily on my shoulders, and they grew with each passing day. Unrest in the east since the war ended meant I had plenty to do. The violence only slowed. Once I managed to snag myself a promotion to Colonel, those duties only grew in size, and I could hardly see past the mountains of paperwork on my desk. I promised you that I would climb to the top, and I wasn’t going to stop until I made that a reality.

Still, almost every day without fail, I managed to answer the phone when you called. You babbled in my ear about Gracia and her cooking. Her spinach quiche was amazing, so I gave you that. It was better than what we had at the academy. As stupid as it probably was, I won’t forget when you stole the last one from me in the mess hall. Who would have thought that quiche of all things would lead two people to becoming best friends? Did Gracia learn how to make it just for you?

When she began to glow from pregnancy, I never heard your voice that elated. You were almost singing, Hughes. I tried not to let my heart sink while I listened to your melody over the phone. After all, I learned a new method of putting it back together. Glue and stitching weren’t good enough, so I resorted to what I was best at: alchemy. I fused my heart together with fire, and it endured listening to you tell me about a child I wish I could give you. Unfortunately, all I knew how to do, Hughes, was kill, and your daughter deserved better than that. Elicia was a beautiful name. Thank you for telling me.

This technique endured better than the last two. When you came to East City because of Scar, I didn’t feel my heart break as I looked your way. No, as the rain broke overhead after our dalliance with Scar, you stood next to me, and I felt at peace. I wondered if you missed how I glanced at you while you spoke. For just a few seconds, nothing else in the world mattered. You were there, and you wanted to keep me, the Flame Alchemist, safe from harm. Scar killed several State Alchemists, including Brigadier General Grand, and we all narrowly escaped that encounter. Yet, you stood next to me with no alchemical abilities, and I felt safe.

My heart was fine. Nothing could break it.

“There’s a call for you on an outside line from Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.”

Weeks later, I heard those words alone in my office, and I knew I was wrong.

Three things struck me as odd when I heard the phone operator tell me you called. One: you either knew I was working at Eastern Command late, or you hoped I was. Two: outside calls were only for emergencies, and you knew better than to use your family as one. Three: again, it was late, and you were supposed to be home.

Something happened. You let yourself get deep into what the Elrics were researching. You found something dangerous, and you called me. In an emergency, you trusted me first.

I pretended to be agitated when I answered. When you answered, you knew I wouldn’t be.

You didn’t answer.

“Hughes?”

I could hear you breathing. Low, shaky. Why weren’t you answering?

My heart, put back together with stitches and glue before I finally got the nerve to fuse it together with my own flames, beat too fast. Where were you? This was your emergency code? Please—

“Hughes…”

I thought I heard footsteps. Were they… retreating?

“Hey!”

No. I could feel my heart falling. I couldn’t let it. I had to keep breathing. I survived Ishval. I could survive—

“Hughes!”

Those were retreating footsteps. Faint, but I could hear them. But that meant someone left. Those weren’t your footsteps, were they? You wouldn’t just call and leave me on the other line. No, this had to be important. You wouldn’t use your emergency code for nothing. This was… but… that meant… someone left you… Someone—

I couldn’t hear you breathe anymore.

No.

“HUGHES!!”

I didn’t scream your name in the bar like I should have. I should have.

I sat right where you left me, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t in the bar. A phone in my shaking hand, tears cascading down my cheeks. No one squeezed my shoulder to reassure me everything was all right. I couldn’t hear the chatter from women serving clientele nor the music they liked to listen to on the radio. There weren’t two drinks in front of me, one of them yours and the other mine. I was alone in my office, and—

And, when I looked to the floor—

There was nothing there.

This time, not glue, stitches, nor my fire held my heart together. Nothing I did was strong enough. Not a single piece of it remained.

Maes, you broke my heart for the last time.

#i wrote my way out | writing #fma #fmab #fullmetal alchemist #roy mustang #maes hughes #hyuroi #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #first person pov #[ kai back on their unrequited pining bullshit ]#[ look I wrote a thing ]#[ it's been in the works for over a month ]#[ and I finally finished it ]#[ okay to reblog ]

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