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@stamfordhero
#𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎. ╱╱ a private independent portrayal of roy kent from the tv series ted lasso. canon based with some personal interpretations & focused on all three seasons from roy’s time on the team and as a coach/manager this is a strictly 18+ blog and may contain nsfw content. written and portrayed by matt ( 23, uk timezone, moderate to high activity )
01. MEMES 02. PINTEREST 03. SPOTIFY 04. MULTI (OTHER TED LASSO MUSES)
he can tell from the moment that he hears a knock on the door at this hour of the night that something’s wrong, can almost even predict it’s jamie before he even gets there. “ fuck sake, what’ve you done now? ” nothing good by the sounds of it. he says it as if they’ve been in this exact predicament before. roy stands there, arms crossed over his chest just watching jamie stumble and stutter with every word.
if it was anyone else ? the door would be slammed in their face right now — roy wouldn’t have the time nor patience for it, but there’s just something about this one that makes him feel even an ounce of empathy “ right— yeah, just shut up and come in ” it’s freezing out there. england’s practically winter 75% of the year. he steps aside to let jamie in and takes him around to the living room. it’s at least a little warmer in there — the fires lit — he wouldn’t admit it in a million years but he’ll take good care of jamie while he’s here “ you gonna tell me what happened or are we gonna just sit around all night? ”
At some point, Jamie's left hand joins his right under the hem of his shirt. His shoulders are slumped forward, head bowed slightly; when he does look at Roy, it's up, through his lashes, like he's half a foot shorter than he really is. It's not that he's unwilling to admit when he's wrong – he knows how to take accountability now, he really does. It's the talking about it bit that's difficult. He can apologise as well as anybody, but then it weighs on him, and it feels like shit, and he's really just on Roy's doorstep looking for a distraction, not an unburdening.
Genuinely, he's surprised when the door isn't slammed in his face. There was about six separate points in his rambling that he all but expected it, and he wouldn't even have blamed Roy, really, it's late, it's cold, it's wet, Roy might have somebody round [ but if he had somebody round, he wouldn't've opened the door in the first place, right? ] – there are plenty of reasons for Roy to turn him away, but he doesn't. Jamie's grateful. He walks inside, posture straightening as he does, though his hands remain inside his shirt. "You've got the fire on," he comments, head tilted to the side slightly as he looks around. What was Roy doing before Jamie showed up at his door? He wants to explore every little corner of this place– "Oh. Right. Erm..." He scratches at his eyebrow, licks his lips, shoves his hand back up under his shirt. "So I was talking with this girl, right? And it was going well, and I was gonna have her over, but then I told her she had t'be out by 4 AM, 'cus, like, I don't know her allat well, and I ain't gonna leave her alone with all m'stuff when I'm out training with you, and that pissed her off, I guess, so we started fighting about it, and I guess I said some stuff I shouldn't've said about not wanting her alone in my house, cus then she blocked me after calling me a... erm, a selfish cunt who only cares about myself. Even though I think that's just calling me selfish twice. I'm not even sure I liked her allat much, I mean, she was fit, but it didn't feel good, did it. Anyways. Fucked it. And now I'm here, and you've got the fire on."
he’s grown a bit of a soft spot for jamie over time, roy would claim that it is absolutely ruining his life — but it’s not all that bad. plus, he knows that if keeley or someone found out that he left jamie standing out there in the rain like a lost puppy then she’d kill him “ yeah, fucking cold out there and you’re still walking around outside with a t-shirt on ” rolls his eyes at the sheer idea of it and shows for the slightest moment that he cares
roy sits back down on the edge of the sofa and lets jamie ramble on, he’s not half surprised when a girl gets mentioned. of course this is about a girl, when isn’t it ? it’s always half their problems but it certainly seems like jamie’s fucked it a little bit now “ fucking hell, you are a right wanker you know that? ” he speaks with the rare sight of a smile on his face, although, this time it is at the expense of jamie getting kicked out of this own house. roy’s been through things like this a million times now, he’s over it, too old to be messing around with anyone “ you said she had to be out by 4? ” he’s just teasing him really, taking the opportunity to wind him up a little bit “ y’know mate i was ready to try help you but that’s mental ”
“ no. suppose not ” now that she mentions it — he’s kind of glad that she didn’t burst through the doors all happy and cheery, he can’t deal with that level of loudness so early in the morning. he’s got ted for that. regardless, he gets it. roy dropped down to richmond after living the best possible life away with chelsea, it was horrible at the time, and he was probably a complete nightmare to deal with so it feels wrong to have a go at anyone else
“ alright then ” it’s whispered under his voice as she walks away and he follows suit. it’s weird. almost like looking in a mirror of some sort. she seems a little snappier than the rest — she’s almost like roy.
through a slight spell of awkward silence he shows her around sounding like the most miserable - uninterested tour guide in the entire world “ you can get ready in here. meet me at the pitch ”
His brief tour passes mostly in silence, her input mostly being a short hum of acknowledgement here and there. The grounds aren't bad, she'll give them that; no doubt they got a new influx of money to fix things up after their great inspirational success story in recent years. Even if you don't follow the Prem, it was a hard story to not hear about. They've probably got more eyes on them lately than they have in the last ten years - which, depending on how you look at it, is both an upside and a downside to her coming here.
"Okay." She waits for him to leave before stepping any further into the room - in the public eye, but ever near-intensely private - not spending too much time exploring the space before changing into her training kit. Blue. The lifelong Dortmund fan in her cringes just a bit.
Might as well just get out there. Get started. Avoiding it isn't going to do anything.
She walks out onto the pitch with that same assuredness as always, even if it's tinged with the energy that someone more cliche might call a stormcloud over her head. It doesn't take long to find Roy again, and she beelines to stand in front of him, arms crossed. No nonsense. "What now?"
she seems a little different compared to the rest of the team. most of them came in all happy and full of excitement, sometimes a little too loud for him, but they were still good. she wasn’t like that and it almost triggered something in roy as if he had to be the person to sorta bring her out of her shell ( if that was even possible at this rate )
he stood on the sidelines of the pitch, arms crossed and jacket zipped all the way up trying to ignore the cold crispy winter air as the team ran drill after drill “ all good? ” roy turns his head just enough to catch her eye, gives a nod instead of a smile “ look normally i’d just tell you to get on with it and join the team . . . but come with me, wanna see your free kicks, show me what you’ve got ”
i am still alive i just am too lazy to log in and out of different blogs
did you screw something up?
"No." There's a pause as Jamie looks away from those stupid scheming observant eyes of Kent's. "I mean. Depends what y'mean. Sort of. Maybe. Kind of. A little bit. Yeah." He feels fucking stupid, standing here like some kind of wet fucking dog, seeking... companionship. Someone who gets him. "Like. It's nowt to do with work, our season ain't fucked or anything, I just..."
There's a wave of his hand downward, palm up, then it works its way up into the hem of his shirt. "Can I come in, or...? I mean, you could tell me t'fuck off, too, if you're busy. If you're busy, that's, like, fine, I get it, I'll go sit at Sam's or summat, but I'm here, and you answered, and maybe I did something stupid, but it doesn't really matter right now, and it's cold, so're you gonna let me in?"
@stamfordhero from here !
he can tell from the moment that he hears a knock on the door at this hour of the night that something’s wrong, can almost even predict it’s jamie before he even gets there. “ fuck sake, what’ve you done now? ” nothing good by the sounds of it. he says it as if they’ve been in this exact predicament before. roy stands there, arms crossed over his chest just watching jamie stumble and stutter with every word.
if it was anyone else ? the door would be slammed in their face right now — roy wouldn’t have the time nor patience for it, but there’s just something about this one that makes him feel even an ounce of empathy “ right— yeah, just shut up and come in ” it’s freezing out there. england’s practically winter 75% of the year. he steps aside to let jamie in and takes him around to the living room. it’s at least a little warmer in there — the fires lit — he wouldn’t admit it in a million years but he’ll take good care of jamie while he’s here “ you gonna tell me what happened or are we gonna just sit around all night? ”
“ alright— fucking hell ” if there’s one thing, it’s that roy isn’t particularly used to having someone on the team similar to him. not even similar, pretty much the exact same. usually everyone came in here all happy and cheery, he still remembers dani’s first twenty minutes here so vividly all because he never shut his mouth.
she doesn’t seem very impressed to be here. although roy doesn’t blame her, even in his happiest days of playing at richmond he still walked through those doors in the most miserable mood possible “ ah, yeah ” all of the few words he lets out are mumbled under his breath. he takes one look at the girl, noticing that she’s not in training gear yet “ you not going out with the rest of the team then ? cause from where i’m standing you look fucking delighted to be here ”
Maybe Katrina's not exactly the most excited person in the world to be here. To be fair, the way she sees it, she got sent off from a starting spot on a high-level team winning consistent silverware to a women's side that's not only in its infancy but is the counterpart of a men's team that up until just a few years ago was hardly a contender. So forgive her for the lack of enthusiasm.
"Would you rather I show up grinning like a fucking psychopath?" If it wasn't clear from her complete lack of affect, the chances of that ever happening are slim. Honestly, she is kicking herself a little bit for not being more punctual - she's always been punctual, ready to get out and prove that she belongs in these upper echelons. She'll tell herself the only reason she's slipped today is that she doesn't think she has anything to prove here.
"I never said that I wasn't going out. As far as I know, we're just starting." With another moment of quiet staring, she starts her walk into the building without waiting to see if he follows. Nevermind the fact that she has no idea where anything is yet.
“ no. suppose not ” now that she mentions it — he’s kind of glad that she didn’t burst through the doors all happy and cheery, he can’t deal with that level of loudness so early in the morning. he’s got ted for that. regardless, he gets it. roy dropped down to richmond after living the best possible life away with chelsea, it was horrible at the time, and he was probably a complete nightmare to deal with so it feels wrong to have a go at anyone else
“ alright then ” it’s whispered under his voice as she walks away and he follows suit. it’s weird. almost like looking in a mirror of some sort. she seems a little snappier than the rest — she’s almost like roy.
through a slight spell of awkward silence he shows her around sounding like the most miserable - uninterested tour guide in the entire world “ you can get ready in here. meet me at the pitch ”
IND. PRIV. WRESTLING RP BLOG WITH A PRIMARY FOCUS ON AEW & NJPW.
you can also find me here btw ^^
chelsea are finally back
goodnight good morning good evening good everything to him <3
he didn’t exactly plan on doing anything else tonight ( never really did these days ) so going out with jamie didn’t seem all that bad, no matter how badly his past self is screaming at him to say ‘ no ’ right now “ well fuck— your idea for em’ is a little nicer than mine ” shoves his hands into his jacket pockets with the usual grunt of approval. normally he’d tell jamie to piss off or go find someone else to bother, but this time? he sort of found himself wanting to go. was jamie fucking tartt really his friend now?
“ feel like a dick for wanting to burn them now but fuck that, we can go for a kebab, stop at the pub after ” it might just be the longest they’ve ever went without arguing over something ( even if that is how this conversation started ) feels a bit weird — but he’ll take it, jamie’s alright when they’re not at each others throats over something stupid
Jamie has a team full of mates that he could text at any hour of the day to spend time with them. Recently, though, he's wanted to spend as much of his time as possible with Roy. It's kind of like he's living in a dream, and he doesn't want to wake up, but he knows he's bound to; therefore, he needs to take advantage of every second he's got in this sort-of-paradise. Even if Roy might still think he's an annoying little prick [ because he is. he is an annoying little prick ].
"Nah, kinda satisfying to burn shit, ain't it?" Giving a shrug, Jamie goes to pick up the cursed boots off of the floor. Maybe they won't be cursed for somebody else, somebody playing in the eighth tier or something where they play on shit pitches for the love of the game and the hopes of making it somewhere big for the biggest night of their lives in the Cup. Wait- did Roy just say- "You're taking me t'pub? Y'gonna let me have a beer this time?" There's a grin on his face as Jamie reaches for his bag in his locker, throwing it over his shoulder and across his chest, settling his free hand on top of it. "Your car or mine?" He feels dead lucky, getting to spend time with Roy Kent like this. Like... maybe, just maybe, they're friends.
he might not ever admit it, but roy quite enjoys spending time with jamie ( when he’s not doing his head in ) granted — most of their past nights would always be ruined by a fight or argument, normally over something stupid that one of them shouldn’t have brought up. but any smile or laugh was real, and he appreciated the fact that jamie of all people managed to get them out of him every so often
“ yeah. it’s fucking great ” a real bad day killer. completely burning something to ashes, roy was the type of weirdo to burn something his ex gave him out of pure spite. it’s almost— almost endearing how excited . . . or happy jamie seems to be that they’re going out together “ i don’t know, mate. after making me listening to that bullshit story i don’t know if you deserve one ” he’s joking of course — just in that painfully dull tone as he turns on his heel, jingling car keys in hand
@stamfordhero sent: who are you ?
Oiiiiiiiida. There's a part of her that's really fucking wishing she could have stayed in Germany, stayed and waited for any other offer, because surely someone would have made one. She's won the league 5 times and the Pokal 6, someone would have called.
But Wolfsburg still traded her away.
And now she's here, in England, hands shoved in the pockets of a black jacket as she shows up for her first day on the grounds. And he's here asking her who she fucking is. Christ.
"I'm on your damn team." Brows are set in a glare that seems to mirror the man in front of her. Roy Kent. She does know who he is, heard his name a few times in conversations about the Prem or England's team. Caught that clip of him calling Tartt a muppet, that did make her laugh. Heard about the whole Lasso thing that caused such a stir. Thank fuck it's not that guy greeting her right now; cheery folksy Americanisms aren't exactly something she's seeking out to improve her day.
The glare is almost like a staring contest, like a challenge administered with nonchalance. "Katrina Brändle. Attacking midfielder."
“ alright— fucking hell ” if there’s one thing, it’s that roy isn’t particularly used to having someone on the team similar to him. not even similar, pretty much the exact same. usually everyone came in here all happy and cheery, he still remembers dani’s first twenty minutes here so vividly all because he never shut his mouth.
she doesn’t seem very impressed to be here. although roy doesn’t blame her, even in his happiest days of playing at richmond he still walked through those doors in the most miserable mood possible “ ah, yeah ” all of the few words he lets out are mumbled under his breath. he takes one look at the girl, noticing that she’s not in training gear yet “ you not going out with the rest of the team then ? cause from where i’m standing you look fucking delighted to be here ”
uhhhh. like this if it’s ok to send you memes
@belasso said “ don't move - you're going to make it worse . ”
he ignored it all day, the way that his knee would hurt with every heavy step or the way that even slightly over extending anything put him into complete agony. roy was stubborn. felt as if he’d be deemed useless if he ever stopped playing football. with that ? he stupidly chose to never stop even when the alarm bells were screaming right in his face.
and now he was sitting up against the wall of teds office. fucking teds office. of all people he had to hear that grating american voice in his ears while the room was spinning upside down and it felt as if someone rammed a knife right into the side of his leg “ mate just f— ” he winces, cutting his angry trail of words off earlier than he would’ve liked. though it’s nothing ted hasn’t heard from him before “ i’m fine. alright ? no need for a fucking scene just leave me alone ”
i’ve become so deeply obsessed with roy kent that it’s actually ruining my day to day life
the smile on jamie’s face helps ease the situation a little even if roy complains about it. they’re friends after all. and he cares about jamie more than he lets on, wants him to go far— further than he ever did before age and injuries finally caught up to him. he notices all the mistakes that he made in his own career and makes sure that he won’t ever let jamie do the same
“ yeah, alright whatever you prick ” if prick could be said endearingly, roy would do it. for once he smiles and laughs a little, finally drops his argument on the boots no matter how stubborn he is “ right— you win then, go burn these fucking boots then, i don’t want to see them again ”
It's easy to come back to himself when Roy Kent's complimenting him. Typically, his ego needs no stroking at all; he truly believes himself to be a god of the game, knows that his talent and his skill are above and beyond most other players of his generation. Growing up, he wanted to be one of the greatest players of all time. The next Kevin De Bruyne. The next Sergio Agüero. The next Roy Kent. Fucking look at him now.
Jamie wants to spin in a circle when he manages to draw an actual, genuine laugh out of Roy. They're... friends, maybe? Yeah. They're friends. But getting Roy to smile, to laugh, it still sends an electric shock straight through him in the best kind of way. "Y'wanna come burn 'em with me?" he offers. He doesn't actually know a place to burn the boots. "Was just gonna donate 'em to a group that might get some proper use out of 'em, but we can burn 'em if you wanna burn 'em. Or... we could go get kebabs. Or something. Dunno. You busy tonight?"
he didn’t exactly plan on doing anything else tonight ( never really did these days ) so going out with jamie didn’t seem all that bad, no matter how badly his past self is screaming at him to say ‘ no ’ right now “ well fuck— your idea for em’ is a little nicer than mine ” shoves his hands into his jacket pockets with the usual grunt of approval. normally he’d tell jamie to piss off or go find someone else to bother, but this time? he sort of found himself wanting to go. was jamie fucking tartt really his friend now?
“ feel like a dick for wanting to burn them now but fuck that, we can go for a kebab, stop at the pub after ” it might just be the longest they’ve ever went without arguing over something ( even if that is how this conversation started ) feels a bit weird — but he’ll take it, jamie’s alright when they’re not at each others throats over something stupid
i am thinking .
