#but roy kent finally getting therapy A++++

[discokicks]

EYE TO EYE (FOR AN EYE) - ROY KENT.

(series masterlist!) (AO3!) (series playlist!)

PART FIVE OF ACES AT THE WATER'S EDGE.

pairing: roy kent x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: well, you've been parent trapped. forced to talk about things you swore you'd never speak of again, you and roy sit down for a chat to appease your fellow coaching staff. meanwhile, in 2012, the english men's team have lost, and you and roy have a chat that leaves you on an... unforeseen note.

word count & rating: 10.2k, R (we're heating up but we ain't there yet)

chapter warnings: swearing, allusions to sa and harassment, some sexual innuedoes, majorly charged eye contact and tension-filled pauses (these fucks are damaged and yearning), WHOLE LOT of dialogue i apologize there's a lot to talk about

author's note: well hello. for those of you familiar with the show victorious, i've been affectionately calling this chapter the 'take a hint' chapter since i outlined this series. there's also a fuck ton of dialogue in this one and can read like a shitty script sometimes, so apologies on that front. sorry this one took a minute, got stuck with it then got busy. hope you enjoy, love you tons! -mags

PRESENT DAY. (MID-AUGUST, 2023)

There are approximately four straight minutes of uninterrupted silence between you and Roy before either of you say a word.

The first minute, you believe, is just the two of you actually processing that this is happening. You’d heard the jokes about Richmond being a family, about work-life lines being crossed, about true professionalism being thrown out the window at the sake of having better, stronger connections with your team. However, you never imagined that something like this was on the horizon.

The next minute is spent unpacking the reality of it all. You were here with someone you’d previously sworn to never speak to again, expected to talk about something you swore you’d never speak about again. And it was to be done against your will, at a random pub in Richmond, with your two coaches watching you through binoculars through a window like it was a Three Stooges movie.

The next, you realize exactly what it is you two are expected to talk about. Your Stooge coaches want you to have the conversation-- the conversation you swore to yourself you’d never, ever have with Roy. They want you to just talk about it, like it’s simple. As if it’s some silly little dispute you had eight years ago, not one that could take days to fully get through (and frankly, should probably have some sort of third party involved. You’re not suggesting a version of couples therapy but you’re not not suggesting it). Nothing about this is simple. Nothing about this can be solved in just one conversation. But, you figure, if Roy’s suddenly game to start to get into it, you suppose you should be too.

That leads you to the final minute, which is spent attempting to find the right way to start this conversation, because, truly, how the fuck do you even start a conversation like this? While you and Roy were never inclined to beat around the bush, this is different. It's so, unbelievably different and you don't know how you're supposed to do this. Especially not now.

Throughout this time, you’ve glanced over at Roy periodically, who you think may physically hurt himself with how hard he’s trying to avoid eye contact with you. He’s focused on the TV at the bar broadcasting the highlights from the Richmond-Chelsea game. He’s staring at the bar top. He’s looking up at the ceiling. Anywhere but you and at anyone but you.

After those four minutes, you feel the tension in the air shift. It may just be your frustration at both him and this situation, it might be his own, but you suddenly can’t take it anymore. And to your surprise (and Roy’s, for that matter), you manage to get out the first word. 

“So,” you say lamely, trying your best not to cringe as it lands. “Uh…”

Roy glances over at you, expecting something else to follow. When nothing does, and he sees your mouth open and close, he huffs a laugh. “I bet you’re happy you signed with Richmond now, huh?”

You place your elbows on the bartop, face falling into your hands. “This is actually insane,” you say, words muffled by your palms. “I hated West Ham, but at least Shelley wasn’t Parent Trap-ing his assistant coaches.” You raise your head to look at Mae as she places two pints in front of you and Roy. “Thank you.”

Mae nods at the both of you, eyes narrowing at Roy as she notices his silence. “The offer for double the pay is still on the table,” he tells her.

“Richmond can’t win this year if their coaching staff is fighting like cats and dogs,” Mae replies. “Your money is as useless as your arguing here.”

The bluntness of her statement has you chuckling despite yourself. As Mae walks away from a now scowling Roy, you take a sip of your drink. Then another. Then another.

When you feel Roy’s gaze on you, you turn to look at him. “What? If we’re gonna talk about this, I can’t be sober.”

“We’re not talking about it,” is his immediate response, and he makes sure to keep his voice low, eyes shifting to where Mae is at the other end of the bar. 

Relief rushes through you at the idea that he seems to be on the same avoidance wave. You want to have this conversation even less than he probably does. However…

“They’re watching us,” you say, throwing your thumb in the direction of the window. “If we’re just sitting here in silence, they’re never gonna let this go.” You glance over your shoulder at your fellow coaches watching you. “And something about Beard gives me the vibe that he’s like, really good at reading lips.”

A familiar growl of annoyance escapes him. “Then we’re going to keep our backs turned and pretend that we’re talking to get those fucking muppets off our backs and get on with our fucking lives.”

Your lips purse. "What are the odds I get you to chug this with me?”

Roy huffs into his glass. “About the same as the odds of it coming right back up because of my new fucking acid reflux.”

Your nose scrunches up in a weary sort of agreement. “Ugh. Fair. Where’d that shit come from anyway? It sucks.”

“We’re fucking old, Fourteen,” he mutters. “That’s where it came from. We’re far from what we used to be.”

“Yeah, but you were ancient when I met you,” you reply, earning a deep scowl in return. “I used to be so young and full of life.”

“If by ‘full of life’ you mean doing boat races in a shitty pub in London with a bunch of degenerate athletes—”

“Oh, my God. Grandad. The kids got off your lawn in 2012, stop bitching,” you say as you bite back a laugh. When Roy rolls his eyes, you point at him. “And by the way, I vaguely remember you joining us in one of those boat races, so I don’t want to hear it from you.”

Roy scoffs. “I did it to shut Rivera up,” he replies, shaking his head. “Terrible fucking influence.”

A fond smile grows on your lips at the mention of your friend, remembering the state she’d been in that night. It was the night you’d won the Gold at the Olympics, and Mel had taken it upon herself to peer pressure your entire team not just to go out, but to start at a pub and start the celebration with that godforsaken game. To this day, you’re still not sure if she remembered leaving the pub.

“She’s the worst,” you agree, though your tone says differently.

A beat passes between you, a question hanging in the air as if Roy’s unsure if he should ask it. If he’s allowed or entitled to know the answer. He asks it anyway. “Where did she end up?”

You answer after you swallow the sip of beer you’d taken. “She and Paige are somewhere in Surrey. And I’m still trying to figure out the geography of this place, but I know that it’s kind of close to here, which is nice. They’re supposed to come for our first home game with their son.”

“Fucking crazy that they’ve got a kid,” Roy says. “I remember when she was making a fucking fool of herself in front of that girl.”

“You’re telling me,” you grin. “Luckily it worked. It helped that Paige was in love with her the entire time.”

That comment is met with silence as Roy seems to only be able to offer a nod in response. The following quiet is less awkward, but everything still hangs in the air. It weighs down the space that stands between you two and makes your chest ache. You don’t know how to continue. You don’t know what to say.

You feared this exact situation with him. Just the two of you, sitting in a room with each other, running out of talking points. No team to comment on, no coaches to add input, nothing left to expand on. Only the memories of your past and a million unspoken paths to go down— ones you had no interest in uncovering.

The TV in front of you transitions to Zava’s press conference, and suddenly, thankfully, you’ve got another thing to talk about. “You’ve never said your opinion on Zava.”

Roy’s brow pinches. “What’s there to say? He’s fucking good. He’ll help us be better. I didn’t think he’d go for us but I’m happy he did.”

“Yeah, I figured that,” you say with the roll of your eyes. “I’m asking for your opinion. Not Coach Kent’s PR response.”

He takes a brief pause, then scowls and looks down at the bar top. “I think he’s a self-involved, strange little prick. I think the shit he does and wears fucking odd, and I think the hero-worship our team’s got for him is going to be a problem.” Roy shrugs. “But he’ll help us win games.”

You find yourself nodding along. “Do you think we actually need him?”

Roy’s gaze slides to yours in interest. “I take it you don’t?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you turn your body slightly to face him. “I think he’ll help us win,” you agree, putting your chin in your hand as you look up at Zava (who’s holding a Richmond jersey with a smile) on TV. “But I’m afraid he’ll mess up the team dynamic.”

“How so?” he asks.

“Well, I’m assuming all future plays are going to be made around him,” you say. “Pass to Zava, get it to Zava, put Zava in a position to score. You guys have never done that before. You’ve never just focused on making everything work around one person.”

Roy’s eyes narrow. “We’ve done it with Tartt.”

“You’ve made plays for Jamie. But you’ve never relied on Jamie to be your focal point in every play of every game,” you explain. The intrigue on Roy’s face is something you haven’t seen in a minute. You continue, “Jamie’s your best player. Every team needs to have their best player. But that’s why, I think, Richmond works. Because you’re a team. You’ve got Sam, you’ve got Isaac, you’ve got Dani— everyone’s good at what they do and they know how to fill their role to work together.” You shrug and reach for your pint. “That’s how you’ve won in the past. I just think it’s dangerous to have the team play around someone else instead of playing as a team. I don’t think it’s sustainable.”

These points of yours are met with a quiet that tells you he’s considering your words. Not so much evaluating as he’s just… taking them in. It feels good to be heard. Not to be dismissed or waved off, told that your input would be considered as it had been for the last three months. 

You’re not sure if Roy’s going to respond to any of your points until he says, “Stop saying ‘you have.’”

You blink at him, not expecting that at all. “What?”

“You keep saying ‘you’ve.’ ‘You guys.’ ‘You’re.’ You’re distancing yourself from the team.” He shakes his head. “You’re a part of this now too. Richmond’s yours as much as it’s mine.”

“Oh,” you say. A strange mix of embarrassment and pride wash over you. “I didn’t realize I was doing that.”

Roy sighs. “You should have said something if that’s how you felt.”

“And what? Ruin the fun of the Zava train? Potentially be the reason we don’t pick up one of the best players in the league?” You scoff. “Pass. I don’t have the seniority to make a move like that.”

“You still should have said something,” Roy presses. “Ted would have listened. We would have listened.”  

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done now.” You wave him off, shrugging. “He’s with us and I’m sure he’s going to be great and help us win. I’m just being weird about it.” Roy looks as though he has about a million things to say to that, but he chooses to bite his tongue instead. At his silence, you add, “Be nice to Jamie if he asks for extra training.”

The scoff that leaves his lips is loud. “I’m as nice to Tartt as he deserves.”

“I’m serious,” you say through a chuckle. “Don’t shut him down if he asks. He needs someone in his corner.”

“And it can’t be you?” he asks.

It’s an innocent enough question, asked with a bit of levity and a teasing glance. But it makes your stomach churn. The memories of West Ham, the sessions you did, Tom’s new comments, everything— and it all hurts. You’re not sure if it’ll ever stop hurting.

Any trace of humor drained from your face and in an instant, Roy knows he said something wrong. Stupid, he thinks. Fucking stupid. You’d gone quiet when he last asked you about this. He should have known better. Watched his words more carefully.

“No,” you reply softly. You take a long sip. “I’d prefer that it wouldn’t be me.”

Well, now Roy feels like an asshole. Once again, he wants to ask. He wants to understand exactly what happened, understand who or what has affected you like this. He has his assumptions (ones that go into dark places he never even wants to consider for you— seriously, he’d fucking kill someone and wouldn’t blink), but if you can’t or won’t talk about it, he’s not entitled to know. He’s not entitled to know anything. Your relationship’s never worked like that, even when you were on good terms. There was no pressure, it all always seemed to come out when you were comfortable. It had never been like that before. That’s originally what drew him to you. That’s why he stuck around.

Roy knows if you do decide to talk about it, it’ll be on your terms. And while he doesn’t like it, he respects it. He respects you.

It’s why he chooses to move on to some other topic instead of pressing you. “Whatever they say about your press conference,” he begins, shaking his head, “fucking ignore it.”

It’s a clunky transition and it catches you slightly off-guard. The leap has you suspicious that Roy might know more than he lets on about your situation, but you don’t dare say anything about it. “They?” you ask.

“The media,” he expands. “The football fans. The pricks online. They.” He shakes his head again. “They don’t fucking matter. If they knew any better than you did, they’d be where you are.”

They’re kind words filled with a rough reassurance that he’s mastered. To hopefully get rid of (or procrastinate) the heavy feeling in your chest, you wave him off. “I’m used to it,” you say. Roy frowns at you and you shrug, “I commentated a little bit for ESPN after I got hurt. I did one Men’s game and made a joke about how much you guys overreact when you get fouled to get a call. Twitter ate me alive. I still get threats about it.”

Roy inhales ruefully, humor written across his expression. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing I haven’t said to you a hundred times,” you reply casually, hearing him huff once more. “I think it was something about how you guys have to be getting paid extra by the Club if you promise to make a scene when you’re hit.”

“You weren’t far off," he chuckles.

“And I still stand by it,” you tell him, leaning in as his lips pull into a small grin. “Though I’m not sure I should be talking to you about playing up a penalty.”

Roy’s brows rocket up. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that i’m sitting next to the only person in AFC history to ever get two red cards in a game,” you reply, and the instantaneous scowl that forms on his face makes you chuckle. “I don’t think there’s been a question about if you’ve ever actually hit someone.”

“Those calls were bullshit,” he mutters.

“Roy, you tackled Man City’s best midfielder and took out both of his legs. And then you kicked a different guy in the chest.”

“He ran into my foot.”

“There is literal video footage of you looking him in the eye and saying, ‘that wasn’t an accident, I kicked you in the fucking chest.’”

He stares at you for a moment, then shrugs. “At least I broke a record.” 

You nod at him. “And we’re all incredibly proud of you.”

That smile of his returns and you can tell he has to refrain from rolling his eyes. “You weren’t so fucking innocent out there either.”

A faux affronted sound leaves you. “I was an angel.”

“Right,” he draws out. “You never got into it with anyone, Mean Fourteen.”

Your nose crinkles. “I liked it better when you hated that name as much as I did.”

“It’s grown on me. Mainly because it’s right.” When your frown gets deeper, he continues. “Even before the Cup at those Olympics. You were fucking tough out there. They could never get you to stay down.”

You rub your finger against the rim of your glass as you glance at the the highlights of the recent Arsenal game on screen. “Damn right. Got tackled into oblivion by Caroline Singer at the 2012 Semi-Finals. Launched me ten yards and dislocated my shoulder. Got up the second after and had my shoulder set in time for overtime.”

Roy chuckles lowly. “I remember that game. You hit a full fucking Locust in the air when she sent you flying,” he says. “You deserved that one. You were a fucking menace to her all game.”

You gape at him. “I deserved that?”

“You did. If I’m Singer and I’m being marked by someone like you during that game? I’m breaking your fucking jaw.”

While you scowl at the idea that you ‘deserved’ that, you find yourself having caught something much more interesting. “Also, rewind. Full Locust?” you ask with a leading sort of intrigue. “Like… the yoga pose?”

Roy’s hiding in his pint again, trying his best at indifference. “Is that what that is?”

But you know him better. A wide, disbelieving grin pulls at your lips. “Roy Kent, do you do yoga?”

“No,” he immediately replies, but you’re already laughing.

“Oh, my God. You so do yoga.”

The scowl on his face is deep. “Fuck off,” he says. “What the fuck is wrong with yoga?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” you respond, laughter dying down despite the smile that remains on your face. “I love yoga. I just never imagined you’d agree.”

“Well, I fucking do.” There’s a beat, and for a moment, you think he’s going to end it there. But then, “I do it once a week with some local mums in their sixties.”

Your mouth begins to part as you stare at him, grin widening. Your laughter starts back up in an instant. “This is the best day of my life.”

(Roy can’t exactly understand what compelled him to admit that, or why he’s indulging in this conversation with you, but there’s a small, suppressed piece of his brain that knows he did it to hear you laugh some more.)

“I have—” you pause to breathe. “—so many questions.”

Roy’s hand shoots up as Mae passes by to ask for another round. “No, you don’t.”

“How did this… come to be?”

He’s scowling, but chooses to answer with, “I was newly retired and borderline suicidal. I found their flier and called Maureen instead of the hotline.”

Your elbow’s now perched on the bartop, chin resting in your hand to stare at him in awe. “Is this, like, at a gym? Is it at one of their houses?” You gasp. “Do you host yoga?”

Roy looks as though he’s regretted every decision that’s led him to this moment. “We alternate weekly,” he mutters. 

“Shut up. Tell me you guys hang out after. Like you grab drinks or do a book club or something.”

His hand goes up once more in Mae’s direction. “Yeah, gonna make that two, Mae.”

“Shut up,” you repeat. You don’t think you could be smiling any harder. “Do you drink rosé and read Colleen Hoover?”

“No,” he says, pointing at you like you should know better. When your brows go up, he shrugs. “We drink rosé and watch Lust Conquers All like respectable fucking adults.”

You do the math in your head and gasp again. “Does that mean you watched Jamie’s season?”

Roy’s lips twitch upward. “Yeah. Watched him be a proper fucking twat,” he says, then glances over at you in curiosity. “Didn’t realize you got that over in the States.”

“Jamie’s season was when it started getting popular there,” you reply with a shrug. “All my friends were in love with him.”

Roy’s brows shoot up. “Not you?”

A snort escapes you, and you shake your head. “Uh, no. ‘The island’s top scorer, sexually’ wasn’t exactly my speed.” Roy’s smile grows at your poor impression of Jamie. “But they were into it. They freaked out when they realized I’d be working with him.”

“Not your speed,” Roy repeats, taking a long sip of his pint. His interest appears to be piqued. “And what speed is that?”

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you try to play it off with a roll of your eyes. “You know what my type is.”

That smile of his stretches into something more resemblant of a smirk. “It’s been eight fucking years,” he replies, feigning innocence. “Types change.”

“I guess you’re right,” you say, fully ready to play along and be just as much of an annoying jerk as he’s being to you.“Right now, I’m regressing to my French swimmer phase. Going pretty well, actually.”

“Oh, is that right?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you answer, biting back a grin. “Actually been talking with Luca for the last couple of weeks. It’s like we never left London.”

It’s Roy’s turn to roll his eyes, but it’s only half directed at you. “He was a fucking prick,” he says. 

“He was not a prick,” you reply. “You just didn’t like him.” Your eyes narrow, turning to face him with that same sort of feigned innocence he had. “Remind me why you didn’t like him again.”

“Because he was a fucking prick,” he repeats. “Fucking twat wouldn’t even watch your games. Couldn’t handle you winning something when he wasn’t.”

The scoff that escapes you is loud. “I forgot about that,” you mutter. “He was a prick, wasn’t he?”

“Fuck yeah, he was.”

You shake your head, raising your glass to take a small sip. “Whatever. Wasn’t like I ended up spending much time with him anyway.”

Roy’s lips quirk up into that same smirk, but there’s more behind it. “No, you didn’t.”

Warmth rises to your cheeks at that, and you continue to hide in your glass. Asshole.

Luckily, Roy seems to have more to say on the topic of Luca. “He was never your speed,” he tells you. It’s a matter-of-fact musing. “He wasn’t in your fucking race.”

You spare a glance in his direction. “No?”

“Absolutely fucking not,” he says as if he can’t believe you even had to ask. “You were riding light years ahead of him. He couldn’t keep up.” With a soft scoff, he adds, “Not many people can.”

That warm feeling returns and it spreads down your neck. You suddenly feel yourself getting shy. “Maybe I should slow down,” you attempt to joke.

Roy’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

You don’t mean to do it. It’s completely unconscious, almost like an instinct. But you ignore the way that that makes your entire body go ablaze and look at him. You hold his gaze for a long while, longer than you have since you started at Richmond. And he stares right back at you. 

It’s hauntingly familiar and paradoxically comfortable. You don’t know if he meant to say that or if it just slipped out in the moment, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you. Even if he didn’t mean to let something like that out with that sort of sentiment, he’s owning it. It warms your heart and makes your stomach flip upside down.

It’s so fucking confusing. But then again, this entire thing has been confusing. You had been sitting here for just about a half an hour, and half of those minutes were spent going back and forth in the way that you used to. You didn’t think it’d be so easy to fall back into that with him. To talk to him like that again. To banter with him. Even to fucking laugh with him.

That realization makes you feel as though you’ve been dunked in a pool of cold water and allows a weird, foreign feeling to settle in your chest. You’re angry at yourself and at him for slipping back into it so effortlessly. You hate how easy it is and always has been with him. But you also miss it. You’ve missed this. You missed him.

It’s an absolutely horrendous, life-altering realization and it slants your world sideways. You despise yourself for it. It’s something you force deep down into yourself, hoping it dies a quick and painless death, but you know that it won’t be the case. Not if he’s still around. And not if you two continue like this.

Luckily, for both of you, the television at the pub chirps out a loud noise as a penalty is called for the game on-screen. You two snap out of it, promptly tuning in to distract yourselves from whatever the fuck that was. Old habits were easy to fall into. They were dangerous. You couldn’t wait to pretend like that never happened.

However, something still lingers. Something sits upon your tongue as you watch the scene unfold on-screen, as the medical and physio team run out to help the injured Arsenal player who’s clutching at his knee. You can’t explain your motive and you don’t completely understand why you feel the need to keep this conversation going, but you want to extend that same kindness to him, with something you’ve been holding back for years. So you do.

“I almost called you,” you tell him. He glances over at you, brows raised in question. “The game you got hurt. I was watching. And I sat on my couch for two hours trying to figure out if I should call you.”

Roy blinks, absorbing this, then turns away. He swallows thickly before bringing his glass to his lips. “Glad you didn’t.”

It stings. Like, really stings. You nod, trying not to show just how much, but your voice still comes out dejected. “Oh,” you say. “Right.”

Roy sighs at your tone. “No, it—” He wipes a hand down his face and the pint in his other lands on the bartop with a thud. “If you’d called that night, it just… It would have… complicated a lot of fucking things for me. And I might have—” There’s a brief moment where he meets your gaze, but he quickly drops it. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“Oh,” you repeat, but it’s quieter. Your focus is drawn to your glass. “Right.”

That dreaded silence returns and it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced with him. What did he mean? What would he have done? What would you have complicated for him? The way he speaks gives you a pretty decent idea of how drastic his actions would have been, but you can’t figure out what he means. 

Would he have lashed out at you? Would he have wanted to see you? Would he have even picked up the phone if you had called? What did he mean?

You have millions of questions you’re too scared to ask, and you bite your tongue for fear of actually speaking them aloud. Roy doesn’t seem to like this and really doesn’t seem to like your answer, or lack there of (but truly, what exactly were you supposed to say to something like that?). You’re not sure if he thinks he upset you or made you uncomfortable, but when he speaks again, he’s taken on a bit of a softer tone.

“Just so we’re clear,” he begins. “I’m… happy you’re here.” He says it slowly, as if he’s testing out each word. “I’m happy you joined Richmond despite… well, fucking everything.”

You swallow hard, awkwardly shrugging. “I didn’t have a lot of other options.”

He gives you a look that tells you to stop being a smartass. You know it well.

“I’m happy you’re here,” he repeats, more sure this time. “I’m happy to see you again. But it…” Roy trails off, eyes locked on the bar top. “It’s fucking… strange. It’s strange to be here with you after I swore you off for the rest of my life.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “It is.”   

“And I— I’m trying to be better at this,” he continues, still refusing to look at you. “Talk like this with someone. Be fucking open, or whatever. So, this is me being open.”

It takes him a minute to collect his thoughts, and you give it to him. 

He scratches at the inside of his wrist. “All of my past… relationships were…” He trails off like he can’t find the right word.

“Fleeting?” you try, earning a glare in response. “Transactional?”

That look in his eye doesn’t falter. “I’m trying to be open here, for fuck’s sake,” he grits, though the slight whine in his voice makes you chuckle. However, before you can apologize, he sighs. “But, for lack of a better fucking word, yeah. That. Nobody stuck around and there was no… love lost or-- fucking whatever. And if it did end poorly, I didn’t have to worry about seeing them. I could ignore them or get a fucking drink thrown in my face and it’d be… done. It’d be over.” Roy shakes his head and takes a long sip of his beer. “I didn’t have to be around them, I didn’t have to see them, and I certainly didn’t have to fucking work with them.”

There’s a beat between you. It’s brief, but it gives you time to absorb this, and for him to take a breath. He shuts his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again, he’s looking at you. It’s a gaze that’s warmer than before, but there’s still that distress there. The confusion. Sadness.

He continues, “I really thought I was never going to see you again. And I had, I don’t know, fucking resigned myself to that idea? I’d come to terms with it. So, being here?” That’s when he decides to meet your eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck to do. I don’t know how to act around you. Not when I’m still so… fucking angry with you. Not when you’re so angry with me. I’ve never done anything like this—” He motions between you two. “—and I don’t know how the fuck to do it.” 

It’s a lot to take in, but you do so while nodding slowly. He doesn’t know how to do this? He doesn’t know how to act around you? This is confusing for him? 

It wasn’t a contest, but you’d argue that, given everything, you were in the worse position. You were joining his team, a team he’d clearly nested into and made a life for himself in. You had been forced to ignore everything he’d done to you for the sake of your career because you truly had nowhere else to go. How the hell did he think that you were or would be doing any better than he was? Did he really think you were dealing with this in a healthier, more stable way?

After you’ve collected your thoughts, you ask, “You think that this is easy for me? I’m fucking drowning here, Roy.” Your voice is gentle, and almost immediately, you can see the tension in his body resolve into something more open. “I think we’re the first people ever on earth to be put in this fucked situation. It’s like some sick psychology experiment.” 

“Sad fucking excuses for lab rats we are,” he mutters. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “What does it say about us that we agreed to it?”

“It says we’re masochists, Kent,” you say, and that smile grows as he shakes his head. You motion to the window where Beard and Ted still stand, taking turns with the binoculars every so often to check in on the two of you. “Who else would just go along with shit like this?”

Roy turns to the window. “Fuck. I forgot they were out there,” he mutters in disbelief.

You salute to Beard and his binoculars and he pulls them down to nod at you in response. “We’re sick, sick people who’d rather be uncomfortable than give this sport up.”

Roy huffs a laugh. “Cheers to that.” 

He tilts his pint to yours and it feels like a peace offering. It’s like you’re finally on the same page about something for once. When you clink your glass against his and sip with him, it ratifies that agreement. You bite back a smile.

“But there’s some truth in that, I guess,” you continue. Roy’s brow pinches. “I couldn’t give this up. I would rather be uncomfortable with this than let go of this opportunity. Because, I…” You take in a deep breath, scoffing softly as you release it. “I really thought I blew it. I thought my career was over after West Ham fired me. I didn’t think anyone was going to want the girl who couldn’t even last three months at an AFC club.” You can feel yourself getting choked up and you blink away the telltale burning in your eyes. “And then out of the blue, like a fucking miracle, Rebecca’s at my door asking me to join Richmond. So… yeah, Roy. This is so fucking weird. And you’re right, I’m still mad at you. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for what you did. And I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.

“But this… this job, West Ham… I couldn’t allow my career to end like that,” you say, and your chest starts to tighten again. Fuck, was it always going to be this hard to talk about this? “You were right when you told me I couldn’t let them take what I love away from me.” Your voice is quieter when you say, “I can’t allow someone to dictate my career for me. Not again.”

You see Roy’s eyes close out of the corner of your own. His head bows ever so slightly and as he mutters, “Yeah. That shouldn’t happen again.”

Now you feel like the asshole. You know it’s deserved, but the somber, regretful note in his voice makes your perpetual guilt complex rear its head. You’re getting emotional whiplash from the highs and lows of this conversation and you wonder how much time has really passed by. You can’t tell if it’s been twenty minutes or an hour. 

But, however long it’s been, you think it’s a miracle that you’ve been able to get to this point with such little time.

“I’m not…” The words get caught in your throat and then escape like a sigh. “...ready to talk about what happened yet. I don’t know when I’ll be able to, but it’s certainly not now. I… It’s too hard to, I don’t know, look at you and talk about that.” You look wearily over in his direction. “And I don’t think— I can’t be your friend,” you tell him softly, watching as he bows his head. “Or be whatever our coworkers want us to be. I’m not… I don’t think I can do that yet. And I think you feel the same.”

There’s a long, pregnant silence, one that drags out and makes everything between you two feel heightened. Then, Roy nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Not yet.”

You figured as such. It’s almost reassuring to know that you’re at the same point. However, after this conversation, after sitting here with him, forgetting about everything for just a moment to laugh and joke around with him for the first time in years, you’re comfortable enough to say your next words.

With a deep breath, you tell him, ”But, whatever comes before friends. Whatever that is, I’m willing to give it a shot.”

Roy’s eyes meet yours. He lets that statement sit with him, absorbing it, then stares at you with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. It’s as if he wasn’t expecting you to say that and can’t believe that you did. 

You’re not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing until he clears his throat and says, “You are?”

It’s something soft and sincere, asked with an uncharacteristic hesitance. “Yes,” you say. “Are you?”

You’re sure you’re imagining it, but you swore you could have seen the beginnings of a smile twisting at his lips. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’d really fucking like that.”

Unconsciously, you feel yourself copying the smile you’re positive was an illusion. “Good,” you say gently, turning back to face the TV above the bar. “Would have been really awkward if you’d said no.”

Roy’s laugh is one of surprise. “God-fucking-forbid things were awkward between us.”

“I’m just saying,” you insist with a shrug. “I wouldn’t have known what to say if you’d said no. Finish my beer in silence and just get up and go. Hand in my two weeks and head back to America.”

“Leaving two teams in under a month would have been a league record,” he notes, lips quirking as you narrow your eyes at him. “And don’t act like you wouldn’t have stayed just to spite me.”

“You’re right,” you agree almost immediately. “I’m much more vindictive than that.”

It’s then that Roy grins at you, and the look in his eye sends you right back to 2012. “Damn fucking right you are.”

You toe the line between hatred and acceptance as a familiar warmth spreads across your chest and makes a home there.

This, you know, will be impossible to shake.

LONDON OLYMPICS. (EARLY AUGUST, 2012)

so sorry to see you boys lose, says the text you send to Roy after their penalty-kicks loss against South Korea. devastating way to go out. not sure if this is a bad time, but i do believe there was a standing deal that whoever lasted longer in the tournament got whatever they wanted from the other?

It’s a rather brutal text, especially after a loss like that, but you don’t care. He was so sure that your team was going to be knocked out before he was. It felt good to be better than him at something for once.

You’re sitting in your Olympic dorm room, perfectly happy to be alone for the night. After your win against New Zealand last night, you’d spent the night celebrating (or what constituted for celebrating in the Village, which was just staying up with your girls and watching bad British made-for-TV movies) and had not had a minute to yourself since. You were unfortunately a person who needed their alone time and having a career as time-consuming as soccer made it virtually impossible to not have people around you at all times.

Mel was out for the night, having gone upstairs to find Paige (the UK women’s team had lost in a gnarly game against Canada last night), taking advantage of the circumstances to ‘comfort’ her. Or, whatever Mel constituted as comfort.

(“She just so sad,” Mel had said, lacing up her shoes. “I told her I’d come up and cheer her up.”

“And how exactly are you doing that?” you asked skeptically from your bed. “You have horrendous bedside manner.”

“I’m going to figure out a way. I hate seeing her sad,” Mel said innocently. “Do you think restaurants deliver here? Maybe I can get her something to eat.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, she’s gonna be eating something, alright—”

You’re cut off by a memory foam slide slipper being chucked straight at your head.)

There was no way Paige didn’t see through her or what she was doing. However, it helped that everyone could see that she was totally into Mel, and you were thankful that your best friend’s mega crush wasn’t unrequited. Extremely thankful. Mel did not take rejection well.

Speaking of rejection, you think, as you feel your phone vibrate on your chest. The text from Roy stares at you from your phone screen and you can practically hear his words as you read them.

That was the deal if one of us won the tournament, he tells you. You’ve still got two games to go, Yank.

It’s the type of response you expected, but you’re unsure of the validity of his claim. i recall that deal differently.

His reply is lightning quick. Of course, you do. Your memory’s as shit as your jokes.

someone’s sounding bitter, you answer. i can hear you pouting all the way from your apartment.

You don’t get a response for a moment, and for a minute, there’s a small part of you that thinks you actually may have pissed him off. There’s no way that he’d get upset about something like that, would he? You know how much he cares about football, but the Games are mostly just… fun. For the men’s side, at least. It means leagues more to the women.

However, before you can get too in your head about it, your phone starts ringing in your hand, Roy’s name popping up on your screen. You press your lips together to keep yourself from smiling too hard.

“Hello?” you say, the humor in your voice evident.

“I don’t fucking pout,” is his greeting, which earns him a soft chuckle.

“The fact that you’re calling me to whine isn’t making for a compelling argument,” you reply. 

“You know,” he begins, and the sudden accusatory inflection in his voice has you pushing your lips together again, “you’re being really fucking mean to someone who’s got the power to run you until you pass out tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, I’m terrified. Tell me, are you going to be breathing down my neck now that you’ve got nothing to do?”

“Thin fucking ice, Fourteen,” he warns, but you swear you can hear his smile. “One more fucking word and I’ll replay footwork day.”

That has your mouth shutting almost immediately. “Okay, now you’re actually scaring me.”

It’s then that Roy laughs, and the sound sends a rush through you. It’s such a rare occurrence that every time you hear it, it feels like an accomplishment. 

“I’m sorry you lost,” you finally say. “That was a tough game to watch.”

“Tough fucking game to play,” he replies through a sigh. “We shouldn’t have let it get to that point.”

You tilt your head back against the pillows stacked up behind you, attempting to get comfortable on your horribly uncomfortable, tiny bed. “If it makes you feel any better, I thought you played well.”

There’s an uneven beat of quiet and the line crackles. “Yeah?” he asks. His voice is calmer and slightly warmer. You’re not expecting it. 

“Yeah,” you say. “You had a couple of good shifts in the second half. That last pass you sent up the field would have been an insane assist if Lowell didn’t miss.”

You hear him sigh. “That wasn’t Lowell’s fault. That sweeper was a problem for all of us.”

“Didn’t say it was his fault. We all miss,” you state. “I’m just saying if it had worked out. That would have been crazy.”

“It would have been,” he finally agrees, which you know is the closest you’re going to get to him complimenting himself. “You play Monday, right?”

“Yup. Canada. I’m supposed to be in charge of taking care of Caroline Singer which should be, y’know, a joy.”

Roy snorts. “She’ll start swinging at you before the half.”

“That’s the goal. I’ve been told to piss her off as much as I can.” Before he has the chance to make the layup joke you’ve just handed him, you beat him to it. “Which shouldn’t be too hard.”

“I’ve seen her play,” he says. “She doesn’t do well when she’s flustered. You’ve got a talent for getting in people’s heads. We can work more on that tomorrow.”

You grin. “So, no footwork?”

His voice is a low growl with a lilt of a chuckle. “Don’t push it.”

There’s a moment that passes between you two where you know you’re both smiling, sitting on the phone in your respective make-shift Olympic homes (one, much nicer than the other, you’re sure), knowing that this conversation is probably over for the night, but finding that you don’t want to hang up. It’s an odd, giddy sort of feeling, one you haven’t felt in years. You never expected to feel it again here, of all places, with fucking Roy Kent, of all people.

You don’t know exactly what possesses you to ask, but the question floats out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Are you really going to stay in London to train me until we’re out of the tournament?”

It was something he’d implied during your practices and once joked about, but he’d said it enough to make you think he was serious. When you’d once questioned him about it, he’d said something along the lines of making sure he saw through his investment or wanted to see your deal through. He’d called himself a man of his word, which you also had questioned, but again, it felt like he was incredibly serious about this. 

His answer catches you off-guard, but you suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything less.. “I thought you were winning the fucking thing.”

An abrupt laugh leaves your lips. “Roy.”

He sighs again and then replies with something more in-line with what he’d said previously. “I made a deal with you. We’re seeing this fucking thing through.” There’s a noise on his line that sounds as though he’s shifting. “And besides, you’ve got what? Two games left if you make it to the Gold round?”

“When we make it,” you correct.

You’re nearly positive that he rolls his eyes. But, he says, “I’m sticking around.”

The sentiment of it all fills you with a warmth that travels down your body. You’re still not sure what this is. You’re not sure why he’s doing this. You don’t completely understand why he seems to like you, why he’s sticking around to train you, or why he chose to train you in the first place. Everything about this is so out of left field and nothing about it makes sense. You couldn’t have predicted this if you’d tried.

There’s nothing about this situation that you completely understand, but you know one thing: you’re starting to become grateful it did.

You don’t question him. You don’t ask the things that are swirling around in your head, and you don’t verbalize anything you’ve started to feel the last couple of days. Instead, you just say, “Well. I suppose if you insist.”

He makes a low sound, something that you may think is a laugh of disbelief. He’s quiet for a second as if he’s going to say more, but he clears his throat instead. “I’ll let you get to bed.”

There’s a brief moment where disappointment swells in your chest, but you quickly shake it off with a silent scolding. “Yeah,” you agree. “Probably a good idea to be asleep when Mel gets back.”

“Back?” Roy questions. “Where’s Rivera?”

“Consoling Paige,” you say, air quotes implied. Roy huffs. “She’s consistent if nothing else.”

“She’s fucking relentless is what she is. I’ve never seen someone pine so hard for someone who clearly fucking likes them.”

You shrug, but then realize he can’t see that. “Mel’s not the make-a-move type. She’s more of a let-me-stare-at-you-and-telepathically-tell-you-I’m-in-love-with-you type. Which I get. But it’s still frustrating.”

There’s a beat between you, one that has you raising a brow. “You're not the first-move type, huh?”

Blood rushes to your ears and it spreads down your neck. His tone is leading, and it sets off every siren in your brain. “No,” you get out, and thankfully it’s more casual than you thought it’d be. “Never been my thing.”

“Huh,” Roy muses. “Good to know.”

Your stomach churns in anxious anticipation, once again not completely sure what he means by that. You’ve got an idea, but Jesus, he loves to be vague. You would have never pegged him to be coy.

Before you can respond, he’s speaking again, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “Goodnight, Fourteen. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He then hangs up on you, leaving you stunned with your phone in your hand, mouth slightly ajar, and the best kind of nerves coursing through your body. 

You can’t help but laugh at it all.

PRESENT DAY. (MID-AUGUST, 2023)

You awake to your phone ringing on your bedside table next to you. It’s a call that’s earlier than your alarm, one that has you throwing your arm to the table, slapping your hand around blindly to find it. 

Once it’s in your possession, you crack your eyes open to see Mel’s name on the screen. Your interest is piqued enough to answer. “Hello?”

Your greeting comes out as more of a groan, but you think Mel gets the message. Either that, or she doesn’t care. Because she leads with, “You want to tell me why I’m getting Twitter updates about you and The Dark Lord hanging out at a bar like it’s 2012?”

You open your eyes, squinting at the sun that’s peaking through your window. “Roy and I are relevant enough to be getting Twitter updates?”

“After that press conference you gave? Uh, yeah. You’re a bit of a celebrity to the football side of Twitter,” Mel says, sounding only slightly incredulous that that’s what you choose to respond with. “You’re relevant enough to have people spamming this picture someone took of you two last night.”

You hum. “How do I look?”

Mel scoffs. “You look incredible. The Dark One looks scary.”

“Scary how?”

“Well, he’s smiling for one, which is always a jumpscare,” she says. “And you’re smiling back at him which is even more horrifying. So, you know, just a scary photo all around.”

A huff of a laugh escapes you, and you put your arm over your eyes. “You wouldn’t believe why we were there if I told you.”

“It better be some fucking Twilight Zone, cosmic occurrence, because that’s the only explanation I’ll accept as to why you’re laughing with each other.”

“Will you take Coaches Ted Lasso and Beard Parent-Trapping and holding Roy and I hostage until we talked out our issues?” you offer.

You’re met with approximately thirty seconds of silence before Mel responds. You can picture the perplexed look on her face as she asks, “Do they understand the depth of your issues? And that trapping you at a bar without a neutral third party and law enforcement present is an outlandish and potentially fatal situation?” 

“We were actually very civil,” you reply casually. “Found out he does yoga now. Watches Love Conquers All.”

“Hmm,” Mel hums. “Does he do that before or after his day job of kicking puppies and burning down orphanages?”

The laugh that escapes you is involuntary. “Mel,” you whine.

“I’m glad you’re laughing. Because I’m certainly not,” she says, and the tone of her voice tells you you’re about to receive the scolding she clearly called to give you. “Because it sounds like you’re back on the Kent Train and I’m going to have to pick you up when he inevitably fucks you over again.”

“I’m not ‘back on the Kent Train’ or whatever the hell you just said,” you mutter, turning to lay on your pillow. “You knew that working at Richmond meant us working together. I knew that. Our coaching staff is insane, but they have a point. We can’t work well together if we’re fighting and not getting along.”

Mel scoffs. “You can work with people you don’t like. It’s called being professional. The only thing you have to be on the same page about is the team.”

“Richmond isn’t like that,” you tell her. “It’s unlike anywhere I’ve ever played or worked. These people are a family. And not in like, a corporate ‘we’re a family here’ way. They all really care about each other and spend Christmas together and do karaoke together. It’s actually really sweet.”

“And what? You’re scared they’re not going to accept you if you don’t join the cult and sing kumbaya?”

You shut your eyes in frustration at her words. “No, Melanie,” you say, and the edge to your voice has her scoffing again. “It’s not about joining the cult. It’s about the fact that I refuse to lose another job. Especially not this job. I can’t imagine any other club being as warm and accommodating as they’ve been. And frankly, no other club wanted me after the shit show that was West Ham.” Mel’s gone quiet and you exhale in resignation. “So, yeah. If that means I have to be friendly with Roy and sing their song, then fucking… hand me the guitar, I guess.”

Once again, Mel’s quiet. You think she’s hung up on you until you remove your phone from your ear and see the call time’s still running. It takes a moment, but she finally, finally releases a long and heavy sigh that lets you know she’s back on your side. “I just don’t want to see him hurt you again.”

“He won’t,” you say without hesitation. “I won’t allow him to. I’m never…” You shake your head. “I’m never going back to that. We’re colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You can hear her shake her head against her phone. “I really wish I believed that.”

“I mean it,” you insist. “You have full permission to kick my ass if anything else happens.”

Finally, you get something like a laugh from the other line. “Gleefully holding you to that.”

“I know you are.”

“Haven’t kicked your ass since 2015,” Mel says, sounding almost rueful. “I miss it. You’ve ignited a fire in me and it’s burning.”

“Does Paige know about your thirst for violence?” you ask. “I can’t imagine she wants Oliver exposed to that.”

Mel scoffs. “Not only does she know but he knows. I passed it on to the little fucker,” she mutters. You note the hint of pride in her voice. “Speaking of Roy, Oliver’s finally old enough for the baby leagues and he pulled a very Kent versus Man City move in his first game. Scuffed up the poor kid’s leg and everything.”

You snicker and roll on your back, eyes cast up to the ceiling. “I cannot possibly imagine my sweet baby boy doing anything of the sort. It must have been someone else,” you tell her. Then, you chuckle again. “Roy and I actually just talked about that game. He still refuses to admit that he did anything wrong.”

“Glad to see nothing’s changed on that end.”

You suppress a smile, but your voice comes out as a warning. “Mel…”

“Hey, you can be nice to him all you want,” she replies. “Never said anything about me having to.”

Fair enough. You know that this is the best your going to get from her, so you let it slide. “You’re still coming to the game this week, right?”

“Recent events have given me second thoughts—” Her response is cut short by your groaning, and you hear her sigh on the other end. “Of course, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss your first home game for the world. Or any home game for that matter,” she says. “I do draw the line at away games, though. Don’t love you enough to drive that much.”

“Understandable. And we’re still on for dinner after?”

“If you’re paying. That AFC coaching salary better join us at the table.”

You roll your eyes. “Good to know where your priorities lie.”

“I’m joking,” she says, but the way that the volume of her voice increases tells you that she’s not saying that for you, but for her wife, who must be in the room. When she speaks again, it’s much lower. “I’m not joking.”

“Oh, I know,” you respond. “Tell Paige I say hi.”

“I’ll do it when it’s less suspicious.”

You grin, shaking your head. “I’ll see you on Saturday, asshole.”

“See you then,” she says. However, before you can hang up, you hear her voice calling your name once more. When you put your phone back up to your ear, she says, “Please. Please be careful. I mean it.”

Her soft worry holds a certain weight that makes your eyes screw shut. “I will. I promise.”

“Okay,” Mel replies, a little more certain. “I love you, kid.”

“Love you too,” you say. “See you Saturday.”

And with that, you hang up on your best friend, letting your phone fall onto your chest with a strikingly heavy thump, letting each and every one of her words sit with you as you pretend that the new pain in your chest doesn’t exist.

The next morning, Ted Lasso gets to the Richmond Coaching Offices early. 

He’s even earlier than you, something of which has proven to be a difficult feat, as you’re typically stationed at your desk reviewing film before anyone else has even considered coffee or put on a shin guard.

But today, he’s done it. He has no idea when you’re going to be in, but to be on the safe side, he figures he should be quick. The wrapped book is carefully grasped in his hand, making sure not to fold or crease the bow he tied around it as he opens the door to your and Roy’s office.

It’s only when the book is placed on your desk that he realizes he forgot to write the message he’d planned on the outside of the wrapping paper. His face scrunches up as he scans your desk for a pen or some other writing utensil, but comes up empty. 

He then turns to Roy’s desk, hoping to find something there. Sliding over, he gives the tabletop a once over, frowning as he realizes Roy’s got nothing too. It’s then that Ted remembers something.

Roy kept pens and dry-erase markers in his top drawer. Ted only knows this because three days ago, he saw Roy pull one out to chuck at Jamie as he barged into your shared office unannounced. He figures he can let that one slide if Roy forgives him for going into his desk.

Ted pulls the drawer out to find Roy’s neatly organized stash of utensils, grinning as he picks up a pen. However, before he can shut the drawer, something catches his eye.

There’s a frame shoved into the back, showcasing a photo Ted had seen from afar on Roy’s desk a million times but had never looked at close up. It’s of Roy, who’s wearing the closest thing to a smile that Ted’s seen on him, his sister, and… you.

You’re positioned in the middle, grinning from ear to ear with your arms tight around both Roy's and his sister’s shoulders. It’s an older picture, one taken at the high-top table of a bar. Both you and Roy are younger, and while Ted can’t figure out the exact time period of which this was taken, something else catches his eye.

It’s something small, probably something that would seem insignificant if he didn’t know you two. It’s your hands. While your arms are draped around Roy and his sister, his hand is covering yours.

It’s something that could be considered friendly, but Ted gets the feeling it’s not. It’s only then that Ted feels as though he’s looking at something he shouldn’t and closes the drawer.

With the pen he was looking for in hand, he returns to the book he’s left for you and scribbles down the message he wanted.

No— I must keep my own style and go on in my own way. —Jane Austen.

He only hopes Persuasion isn’t too on the nose for your situation as he slips out your office door and into his own.

TAGLIST: @dark-academia-slut @tegan8314 , @csigeoblue , @confessionsofatotaldramaslut , @thatonedogwithablog , @hawkeyeharrington , @jamieolivia27 , @seatbacksandtraytables , @luvr-bunnyy

[ao3feed-tedlasso]

Your Love is Tried and True Blue

https://ift.tt/MKdeTO4 by squareteabugs Jamie’s life had been worse–it really had been. His life felt vaguely reminiscent of a polished purgatory. It wasn’t entirely horrible; it just wasn’t what he thought it’d be when he was growing up. Every stroke of bad luck was followed by a stroke of good luck, as if his life were a game of dominoes. At 16, Jamie fought his father for the first time. Then, James got his first arrest that resulted in his mother finally being granted a restraining order against him. When Jamie was 17, he presented as an omega and was forced to quit football that same week. Only three months later, the Premier League suddenly decided omegas were capable of playing. Just Jamie’s fucking luck. The universe had always made room for him, yet he still managed to feel like shit. Words: 3387, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Ted Lasso, Coach Beard (Ted Lasso), AFC Richmond Players (Ted Lasso), Roy Kent, Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones Relationships: Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent & Ted Lasso, Roy Kent & Roy Kent's Granddad, Roy Kent & Phoebe, Ted Lasso & Jamie Tartt, Georgie | Jamie Tartt's Mother & Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones & Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones & Roy Kent, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ted Lasso & Rebecca Welton, Keeley Jones & Roy Kent & Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond Players & Roy Kent, AFC Richmond Players & Jamie Tartt Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jamie Tartt, Alpha Roy Kent, Protective Roy Kent, Roy Kent Swears, Hurt Jamie Tartt, Jamie Tartt-centric, Jamie Tartt Has a Praise Kink, Jamie Tartt is Good With Kids, Jamie Tartt Needs a Hug, Jamie Tartt Gets a Hug, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Angst and Porn, Eventual Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut, Alpha/Omega, Keeley Jones & Jamie Tartt Friendship, they do shag on the dl tho, well they think its dl, Supportive Keeley Jones, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sexual Harassment, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Bad Parent James Tartt Sr., i hate him, Warning: James Tartt Sr., author's first fic!, Probably OOC!, the most character driven thing ever i love talking about these guys, yes they will eventually get therapy!, Roy Kent is a good boyfriend!, Hurt/Comfort, kind of a slowburn? romantically speaking, the plot goes by pretty quick source https://archiveofourown.org/works/65690044 May 19, 2025 at 11:12AM

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Under the Surface

by SomebodyIUsetoKnow The overall aim of Analytical Music Therapy is to encourage expression of unconscious thoughts and feelings one might otherwise not know how to face. Since the Bats are notorious for not talking about their feelings, maybe its time they start listening. Dick finally lays it all out for his family and tells them everything that he has struggled with since becoming Robin. He just doesn't know that they're there. Words: 14523, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dinah Lance, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucifer Morningstar (Vertigo Comics), Oliver Queen, Barry Allen, Diana (Wonder Woman), Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Joseph Wilson (DCU), Rick Flag, Mark Richards, Cody Driscoll, Koriand'r Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson (Past), Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Everyone, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper Additional Tags: Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Past suicide attempt (mentioned), Past Sexual Assault (mentioned), Songfic, Sort Of, Everyone Needs A Hug, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Bruce Wayne Gets a Hug, Hopeful Ending, 100 Percent Self Indulgent Fic, DC Let Dick Grayson Be Happy Damnit!, DC Let the Batfam Be Happy Damnit!, Not Barbara Gordon Friendly, Just never liked her for Dick, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bats are always Bad at Feelings via https://ift.tt/wThdKDR

[ao3feed-timkon]

Stepping Stones

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/eilMdxu

by xSeeingStarsx

Jason Todd has finally come home. Red Hood is intent on staying in Gotham permanently, even if it means playing by Batman’s rules. But Gotham has changed since he left, no more so than the dynamics at play at Wayne Manor. Who are the Williams siblings? And how are they connected with one of Black Mask’s clients?

Petra Williams' life didn’t feel like her own, hell, even her name wasn’t her own, it was a carefully-crafted facade to keep her and her brother safely hidden. But maybe there was a way to get her life back, and Red Hood was going to help her, whether he liked it or not.

 Fic updated every 3rd Saturday of the month

I would also like my lovely friend m_e_winters here on AO3 who has put as much work into this fic as I have with my consistent pestering them, bouncing ideas off of them, and their reliable help with editing.

Words: 2185, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics), Bat - Fandom, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood/Arsenal (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Young Justice (Cartoon)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Original Characters, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Batfamily Members, Roy Harper, Talia al Ghul, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Clark Kent, Jonathan Samuel Kent, Lois Lane, James "Jimmy" Olsen, Roman Sionis

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s), Red Hood/Original Female Character, Batfamily Members & Original Character(s), Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain, Jonathan Samuel Kent & Damian Wayne

Additional Tags: Batbrothers (DCU), Batbrothers Bonding (DCU), Batfamily (DCU), Slow Burn, Falling In Love, no graphic smut, Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, Fade to Black, Implied/Referenced Child Torture, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Get In We Are Finding Love And Emotional Healing, Everyone Needs Therapy, Only once character actually is in therapy, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce is a tired dad™ trying, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is an Unreliable Narrator, Projecting my mixed feelings about Bruce Wayne, Vigilantism, Murder, Psychological Trauma, Tim Drake and Jason Todd are Best Bros, Talia Al Ghul as a Maternal Figure, meta-humans - Freeform, Metahumans, unethical medical experimentation, Child Soldiers, Puts Favorite DC Media in a Blender: Cannon? What Cannon?

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/eilMdxu

[pinazee]

I mean honestly the only thing that bothers me about the finale is that the show teased roy/keeley getting back together and then ted and rebecca possibly having slept together only to have it not be the case.

And like, how dare they toy with my emotions like that.

Cruel.

[princessamericachavez]

My thoughts about the Ted Lasso finale (no particular order)

The end montage was obviously Ted’s dream for the future and not even subtly so jot that down

Actually just gonna add that this is the show’s way of telling us the potential these characters have and what Ted wishes for them but without his presence it’s up to them now

Roy mouthing alone to Goodbye, Farewell broke me because he’s clearly the one who put together the choreography

Also Dani singing? My most beloved

Jaime and Roy clashing one last time might have pissed some people off but this was always a rock in their shoe that they needed to address and we see that their relationship can and will survive it

I like Rebecca’s romcom ending even if I wanted her to end with Ted.

Ted going back to his son was necessary and the whole point. He always blamed his father for abandoning them. When he came to Richmond he was all but running away from his family in hopes things would magically fix themselves. Instead, he put in the work and healed. But his biggest triggers were always connected to him missing his son’s life. In the end, Ted’s growth was the point so he could go back to them and be the best version of himself for them and for himself.

Ted not talking while Rebecca rambles was actually perfect. Old bitter Rebecca would’ve never opened up like that. But old Ted would’ve also rushed to reassure her or try to make a joke or cheer her up. This time, Ted lets her speak and then sticks to his guns, even if the truth is uncomfortable for others. He allows himself to do this for himself and not to please others.

Beard staying for Jane was foreseeable given the toxic codependent nature of their relationship. Happy perfect endings don’t exist. His story is still developing.

Furthermore, the real growth came from Beard letting himself choose something regardless of what Ted is doing and breaking himself free from a cycle of guilt and feeling in debt.

I know it was in the dream but god I hope Roy gets therapy. We did see the roots of him wanting to change and be better and accept the help he needs so he’s in the right path.

Keeley/Roy/Jamie is still endgame in my heart. Eventually. Once all three are in the right place.

The himbos singing made me cry. A lot.

Even if it was in the dream, if Jamie actually chose to reconnect to his dad somehow I think it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He would get to do it on his terms and only because he chose to have him in his life to some degree. Which might simply be being civil and talking from time to time, so long as his father keeps putting in the work to better himself and takes steps to make amends and apologize and acknowledge all his wrongs. Who knows. It’s an open ending.

Loved everything about the match.

Glad Van Damme got closure from Rani Dojas and that Dani acknowledged his part in what happened and tried to make amends.

CANT believe they made me feel sorry for George.

The cold open was a tease but I loved to see what could’ve been (and who says Ted and Rebecca didn’t find each other while running away from all that noise and one thing less t another…)

I wish we’d seen Sam’s restaurant and his cute chef one last time.

Actually wish we’d had a little bit of all the other himbos.

And finally

Finally

I… don’t think it was the series’s finale. I don’t know. I might be wrong but lately all interviews from the cast suggest deep down they hope something else will come and maybe they’ll be like “you know what, this story isn’t over” or something.

That last scene and the musical cue with Ted’s final shot felt so dissonant to me. Like there’s something still unfinished there.

I, like Roy Kent, have all my fingers crossed.

[camgoloud]

the montage being (at least in my mind) all just ted’s dream of what the future looks like for the people he left behind in england rather than necessarily What Really Happens is so funny actually because it means that ted was literally like “and my best friend gets a nice wedding with the whole team present :) and my former player gets to achieve his childhood dream and play for his country’s national team :) and roy kent gets a therapy session finally jesus fucking christ! and afc richmond gets a successful women’s team :) and”

[vole-mon-amour]

3x09, part 2.

As you should!! Queen!! Whip his ass!!!

Strings that bind us? That one definitely hurt.

Jamie and Sam being besties. <3

That's what you chose to focus on? Really? :D For real though, I still don't understand where the show is going with Roy. One step forward, three steps back. If this is the last season, it's weird.

Rebecca is theeee queen. <3

They're not messing around with that password. Also, theft in the locker room? Interesting.

How to deal with 'friendly' teasing? Like this :D King :D

I LOVE this moment. I love that Trent is casually drinking tea and eating his orange, and Colin went straight up to him with 'Isaac knows" with no prelude. I LOVE that in Amsterdam it was Trent that asked Colin, "How do you do it?" as in asking for knowledge, and in here it's reversed. It's Colin coming to Trent. I love this bonding soooo much. It's so important. An older queer with a younger queer.

I love him, you honor. Imagine having Trent Crimm, Ted Lasso, and Jamie Tartt as your good friends that you can go to ans talk. Goals.

Queen!! Also, I love how Rebecca is often working with tea and/or biscuits on her desk. A foodie that isn't afraid to show it. She's come so far since s1, but then again, it's been said multiple times that real Rebecca is silly and wonderful, so I love seeing real Rebecca <3

She talks like Ted. :) More straightforward, but yeah. With Ted, Roy opened up on his own.

"But I guess I'm not that person." "Not yet."

In here, he feels threatened, vulnerable, so he shoots that "I just wanna be left alone" and hopes she lets it go. I see you, protective layers. I see you. I wonder if it's some kind of trauma/issue from childhood that he's so repressed. Bc I've been there & sometimes I still fight that or feel ashamed to talk about some things so I keep quiet or don't explain properly, but it's sooo much better to talk it through. And I guess Roy won't go to therapy, so Rebecca being like This is his way of therapy. She just doesn't want to deal with that bullshit.

I love her. She's great.

I need Nate to get his big boy trousers on and stop sucking up to Rupert. I hate Rupert so. fucking. much. Is there a thing as an anti fanclub? Because I feel like I'm in it during moments like this. Rupert's ego is already higher than the sky, but Nate is making it even worse. Ew.

When will Nate finally leave Rupert and gets back to Ted? Huh? Or stays with Rupert but actually fights him on that and say that Ted is actually great and should be allowed to go to their matches if he wants to. Like, ughhhh. It's so frustrating.

That's the worst idea EVER. He'll ruin you, Nathan. On the other hand, maybe you'll finally understand how evil he is.

It's been 16 minutes in this episode & so many things happened already? I'm surrprised. It feels like 30 at least.

Mae <3 The joy of having an older lady on the show that knows what she's worth.

I'll just leave it here. The way Rebecca doesn't hesitate to physically comfort Keeley. It was in s1? When she said she's not a hug person. She totally is. The real her. She's like female Roy Kent that is less repressed and will do anything for her people. Seriously, as soon as things shifted for her in the show, she had my heart. I saw her potential before things shifted & I loved that for her. She's amazing.

I feel like Jamie is best friends with the entire team. Look at them. They love him. They were playing before Ted interrupted them. No idea how it's called in English, only in my native language, but that's so sweet.

[lunar-years]

Some people have been taking the "red rope" moment as foreshadowing for Roy Kent beating up Jamie's Father later this season. But now I have a suspicion that TED is going to go ape and throw punches at James Tartt Sr. in the next encounter, probably in tomorrow's episode (and Issac attacking the fan makes that an even likelier possibility for me).

So many people have been seeing the build up and are speculating to a full mental breakdown for Ted, and this would be such an unnerving but brilliant way to execute it: all of his own issues and ordeals left unresolved coming up to catch him, festering inside until the sight of the player he most gravitates towards as his own son is subjected to even more tormenting from his father, especially after Ted has already twice walked away without intervening.

It's not the Ted we're used to or the Ted we would like to see, but he's been struggling more this season than ever before, and everybody has a breaking point, no matter the quality of their support system. Even if he succeeds in scaring Tartt Sr. away, it would generate a complete media blowout with condemnation and support alike. Imagine how Rupert could use that information/display to get others to laugh at Richmond...

Well, as much as I do not want to be like "Well, I disagree with all of your points"...I sort of do disagree with all of your points, anon.

I think if James Tartt Sr. does make an appearance this episode, it will be a more isolated incident and not something that happens in front of the whole team. We had that last season, for one. For two, surely, even if Richmond can't ban him from other stadiums, they've absolutely taken precautions to ensure he doesn't get near the dressing room or Jamie during or after a match again. He might be at the Man City game, but I don't realistically envision a confrontation there.

I do think it is very very likely James Sr. is brought up and discussed and involved somehow in the episode's events. Like maybe he starts berating Jamie via texts and calls again, Jamie is off-kilter because he knows his dad will be at the game, or he's afraid he'll run into him in Manchester, etc; BUT...

I imagine if there is a face-to-face confrontation, it's going to be largely Jamie facing it down again, I would hope backed by some of his support system, yes. In this case I think the most likely candidates are Keeley & Roy (& possibly his mother??) because we know already they are a part of his storyline this episode.

I don't think Ted has been spiraling towards full mental breakdown? Since Amsterdam, and then especially since We'll Never Have Paris, we've seen Ted makes leaps and bounds of progress. he's been shown keeping up with therapy, he's working through his Michelle & Henry stuff and making significant changes to his mindset, and he's finally finding joy in coaching again.

To me the state of Ted's mental health was by and large the worst in s2, and the consequences of that breakdown extended into the first part of this season, but he's now well on his way back up. It would not make much sense to have him at his absolute lowest in the penultimate episode of the entire show.

I strongly disagree that Ted gravitates towards Jamie like his own son. I've already discussed that at length in response to a different ask this season, so I'm not going to go into it again here. but yeah, I just don't see it.

I think it's important to remember that by the second to last episode of the show, arcs are winding down, not starting up. I don't foresee a big media blowout with Rupert using it to tear down the club, because we're past the point of return for any of that. I just generally don't see major threads being introduced in the second to last episode when we already have soooo much to wrap up. That's why I think Jamie's storyline is going to be more of a continuation/follow-up to last season's Man City episode rather the introduction of new problems for him. This is the ending, not the beginning.

Not to down on your speculations, anon. Who knows what's going to happen! But my personal belief is that Ted & Jamie's plots aren't really going to intertwine all that much this episode. My like, big hope for them is ONE scene towards the end of the episode where maybe Ted knows Jamie's been struggling lately and he pulls him into his office to check up on him, and they get an opportunity to discuss things like Ted walking away from Jamie & his dad those times. I want resolution for them, I do, I just don't think their relationship is as big of a plot point as others think it is.

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Is it alright to request a “future child scenario” with Artemis where said child’s middle name is either the initial letter “W.” or “Wallace” as like a way of honoring Wally?

I understand if you choose to not do this request and I will respect that.

Artemis Crock when her Future child comes to the Present

Dick Grayson Ver. | Jason Todd Ver. | Tim Drake Ver. | Damian Wayne Ver.  | Bruce Wayne Ver.

Conner Kent Ver. | Wally West Ver.| Roy Harper Ver.

Artemis took a long time to get back into a relationship after Wally passed

She wasn't even expecting to find love again

But uk after a few years of feeling like crap, she finally decided to get some therapy

It's not like she was incredibly depressed or anything

But she did feel this immense guilt whenever she thought someone was emotionally attractive

Or if she thought of going on a date

Or if someone asked her on a date and she declined but then regretted it

So, when she met you, she was hesitant to go on a date and then get into a relationship

But you completely understood where she was coming from

And you didn't force her into anything that she wasn't ready for

Eventually she was able to get emotionally intimate with you without feeling guilt

And your relationship grew stronger

You were actually considering asking Artemis to marry you

But when you brought up the idea of marriage and children to your girlfriend

She completely freaked out

Probably got scared once again

And you didn't want to hold it against her because she's been through so much

But damn, you really thought you were doing so well

And you tried to explain that to her

You tried to have a mature conversation

But Artemis totally panicked and said that she might not ever want kids and that you just had to deal with it

She didn't really mean it

Tbh she had never thought about having kids

But she didn't know if she did 100% want them

So, in a panic she just said she didn't

It was a huge fight

And you both were in tears

"I think, I need to be with someone who wants the same things I do."

Artemis left that morning to Will's place, saying that she'd have someone pick up her things

And you were completely prepared to let her go

Even if it felt like your heart was getting ripped in your chest

A couple days of just wallowing in your home and being depressed

You heard the doorbell ring

You were both scared and excited to open it

Scared because it could have been someone to help pack Artemis' things

And excited because it could have been Artemis telling you that she made a mistake

You didn't want to pressure her into getting married or having kids

But oh god, wouldn't it be so great if she realized it for herself?

When you opened the door

Someone you didn't know was standing on the other side

A teenage boy stood there, smiling brightly at you

"Hi, there! I'm Nathaniel Wallace Crock!"

Crock? As in Artemis Crock? She told you she didn't have any family

"Uh, you're related to Artemis?"

"Kinda. I'm from the future. I'm yours' and Artemis' son."

Holy shit

There was a crazy person standing outside your apartment

He seemed to realize that you were about to slam the door in his face

And the next thing you knew, he was inside your apartment

"Listen dude. If you want money, I have a whole 27 dollars in my wallet and pizza coupon from 2012."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes

"I don't want your money, mom. I really am from the future."

"You know what, I'm gonna just give you the 27 dollars."

The door slammed open and in came Artemis, red faced and panting

"My god, this kid is fast."

He scoffed, "Yeah, no duh, it's part of the 'super' in superspeed."

Your ex-girlfriend's eyes widened, "You have superspeed?"

"Yeah, I used the intelligence I didn't inherit from either of you and recreated an experiment using the documents I stole from both of you."

"I'm sorry, I'm a little lost."

Apparently, Nathaniel made a stop at Artemis first before coming here

He told Artemis he was her son too and she obviously didn't believe him

Now, both you and Artemis were sitting on the sofa, watching Nathan pace in front of you

"Okay, so my moms, which is future you, sent me to the past to get you two back together. They didn't really give me any instructions so I'm just winging it." He explained

"I don't believe you. We literally just had a fight about how Artemis didn't want kids."

His eyes widened at her, "God, mom, you're really making this difficult for me."

Artemis was half convinced

I mean, she had dealt with Bart before

She knew coming from the future was very much possible

But it wasn't like she was just going to take his word for it

"Any proof?"

And 4 hours later, you both were wide eyed

"Wow he had so much proof."

"A ridiculous amount. I thought he said he was winging it."

And you're staring down Nathan like how is this even possible

"So....you're our kid? How does that happen?"

"Well, when two people love each other very much--"

"I gotta say, this is making me want to have kids a little less."

Artemis laughed, "Ironically, it's actually making me think that having kids won't be so bad."

Your eyes widened, "What? Really?"

Artemis gestured to Nathan who seemed a little too pleased with himself

Just sitting happily on the couch and watching the both of you with a bright smile

"Well, I guess I was scared because there's just so many things that could go wrong. But, I mean, this kid is our son, and he seems okay. So, I think it might just work out."

She spared you a glance, "I mean, if you still want to."

You beamed, "Are you kidding?! Of course, I want to!"

The next few days while you tried to figure out what exactly to do with Nathaniel was fun

With him constantly reminding you that when he's 15 and he crashes Artemis' bike, you need to let it go because he got you two back together

You both just rolled your eyes at him

It was odd how you both just sunk into the whole parenting thing

Like it was weird

You both just suddenly had maternal instincts?

Like what?

Artemis was actually a natural, considering she took care of Lian since she was born

Though you imagine a baby girl and a teenage boy aren't exactly the same

But Nathaniel is just the sweetest

A little rough around the edges

And even though he's adopted, he has traits similar to both of yours

Like your clumsiness

And Artemis' ruggedness

And it actually makes your heart swell

Because damn, that's your kid

And he's the perfect combination of yourself and the woman you love the most in the world

Apparently future you and he have a tradition of waking up every Saturday to watch a morning drama

You couldn't imagine why because waking up on a Saturday morning felt like death was upon you

And waking up to watch a romance show with your son was even weirder

But you definitely understood the appeal

You figured this particular instance was the reason the tradition arose in the first place

He was also very used to rough housing with Artemis

Like it wasn't a surprise to see them wrestling on the couch

And you're just sipping tea on the side like 'I live with two animals now.'

Brucely isn't counted because he has more braincells than both of them combined

And you loved seeing Artemis interact with him

Because yes, she was a little cold and standoffish

But you knew that she could be the warmest, cuddliest, loving person

And she really reflected that while spending time with Nathaniel

Being raised by two women is not that different from any other parenting team

But it definitely means that your son is a little more flexible and accepting of mood swings and emotional vulnerability

You know the phrase written by a woman?

Well Nathaniel was literally raised by 2 supportive, intelligent, powerful, and independent feminists that it never even occurred to him that there was some difference between men and women

That made you swell with pride

Because raising a kid to embody your principles and such is difficult

Especially with so much influence from the outside world

But the fact that you raised a respectful, smart, kind but also self-secure person made you feel relief

AND HE ISN'T AFRAID TO SHOW THE BOTH OF YOU AFFECTION?!

Like you did a good job

Congratulations

Basically, Nathaniel coming into your life a little early was the best thing that could have happened

So, when he did leave, you both were saddened to see him go

But also, you were very excited for the life that was going to come

Of course, you and Artemis pick up where you left off

And in a couple years you do get married

A small ceremony, of course with only close friends and family

And then in a couple years when you both are completely comfortable with it and financially stable, you look into adoption

The process is a little difficult and taxing

The anticipation and waiting and constant disappointment were a little discouraging

But luckily you both already knew that something great was coming to you

So, you kept the memory of Nathaniel close to your heart and waited

Until one day the adoption agency described a baby boy with features that resembled your baby boy

You both shared gigantic grins, knowing that it was your son

"Are you both interested?"

"YES, WE'LL TAKE HIM!"

"(Y/N) this isn't an auction, control yourself. But yes, we're both incredibly interested in adopting this baby boy, please let us adopt him. And ignore my wife here, she's a little excited."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@hanbedumbaf

@superheroesaremyjam113263

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

[lapetitechatonne]

dp/dc ship week 2023 ideas

so, with ship week coming up i'm sure a lot of us are stumped on what ships we want to write. i know for me, i wanted to use it as an excuse to write ships i haven't gotten around to yet, or that have taken me by the throat. as the Batpham Server's Patron Saint of w|w and poly ships, i bring to you some rare pairs and ideas for ship week. these can be platonic or romantic!!!

First/Last

Jazz Fenton/Dick Grayson (Nightbirds) - you could play off how they're the first sibling, and if you want to make it angsty, how they're the last ones in their family to die.

Arranged Marriage AU

Danny Fenton/Duke Thomas (Will-o-Whisps) - Duke reads off of an artifact he found in the unused part of the manor and accidentally gives himself in marriage to the ghost king. after they figure it out, Danny decides he's pretty cute and asks him to coffee.

Holding Hands/Kiss

Dani Phantom/Lian Harper (Trick Shot) - it's hard to hold your girlfriend's hand when she makes you so nervous you turn into goo.

Soulmate AU

Valerie Gray/Kara Zor-El (Valkyrie) - for so long, when Valerie would write on her arm, no one would respond. when she decides that soulmates are a scam and she had bigger things to worry about, like keeping a roof over their heads, she finally gets a message in an unknown language.

Family/Friends

Dan Phantom/Tim Drake (Bad Ending) - with all their friends and family dead, a young Dan and Tim find themselves drawn together. with Dan's power and Tim's brain, nothing can stand in the way of this Bonnie and Clyde retelling.

Coffee Shop AU

Dani Phantom/Tim Drake (Travel Photos) - Tim didn't expect to find a girl on top of his favorite coffee shop when he snuck up to take photos of Batman and Robin. he gets her to trust him enough to go downstairs for a late-night hot chocolate and muffin.

Promise/Conflict

Jazz Fenton/Cassandra Cain (Speech Therapy) - Jazz promised Danny she would keep living after his death but she doesn't know how. Cass promised herself she'd never kill again, but if she isn't a killer what else is she? broken and conflicted, they meet each other.

Wings AU

Paulina Sanchez/Kara Zor-El (Star Struck) - Dragon!Paulina (whether she just kept some of the powers or was given the necklace by Dorathea) is flying around the midwest when she's spotted by another flying girl. naturally, they hit it off.

Secret Identity/Danger

Danny Fenton/Sam Manson/Tucker Foley/Tim Drake (Everlasting Insomniacs) - Tim is visited by a time god and given a mission to stop the catalyst of the end of the world. it starts with tutoring.

Friends to Lovers AU

Dani Phantom/Irey West (Short Circuit) - it's not abnormal to see a speedster in the Zone, in fact, you could even call it a normal occurrence. Dani's favorite visits are from a cute, sassy, redhead.

Fight/Heal

Sam Manson/Zatanna Zatara (Black Rabbit) - Zatanna didn't mess with necromancy. there were just some things magic shouldn't meddle in, and she knew that, so when the Justice League called her to interrogate a known necromancer, she's weary. Sam is at the same time exactly what Zatanna expected, and nothing like she thought. (fills the prompt because necromancy is the opposite of healing, which insinuates necromancy can heal too.)

Enemies to Lovers AU

Tucker Foley/Tim Drake (Techno Geek) - Tim is constantly trying to stop Hacktavist TooFine from breaking into the Wayne servers. it becomes something of a game, and Tim finds himself enthralled in the puzzle.

Royalty/Servitude

Jazz Fenton/Jason Todd/Roy Harper (Street Smarts) - Jason and Roy find themselves getting sacrificed by a cult to the Ghost King as his eternal servants. they weren't expecting Queen Regent Jazz to decline their offer.

No Capes AU

Danny Fenton/Clark Kent (Last Suns) - Danny always believed in aliens. it was part of the reason he became an astronaut. he never expected to actually meet one. he also never expected them to be a farmer.

this post has been such fun to make, i love a good rare pair and these prompts are killer. i won't be doing any of these, i have mine planned out already, but let me know if you'd like a sneak peek ;) or if you'd like more variations on the prompts. happy creating!!!

[ao3feed-tedlasso]

Your Love is Tried and True Blue

https://ift.tt/8jJiyGU by squareteabugs Jamie’s life had been worse–it really had been. His life felt vaguely reminiscent of a polished purgatory. It wasn’t entirely horrible; it just wasn’t what he thought it’d be when he was growing up. Every stroke of bad luck was followed by a stroke of good luck, as if his life were a game of dominoes. At 16, Jamie fought his father for the first time. Then, James got his first arrest that resulted in his mother finally being granted a restraining order against him. When Jamie was 17, he presented as an omega and was forced to quit football that same week. Only three months later, the Premier League suddenly decided omegas were capable of playing. Just Jamie’s fucking luck. The universe had always made room for him, yet he still managed to feel like shit. Words: 3387, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English Fandoms: Ted Lasso (TV) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Ted Lasso, Coach Beard (Ted Lasso), AFC Richmond Players (Ted Lasso), Roy Kent, Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones Relationships: Roy Kent/Jamie Tartt, Roy Kent & Ted Lasso, Roy Kent & Roy Kent's Granddad, Roy Kent & Phoebe, Ted Lasso & Jamie Tartt, Georgie | Jamie Tartt's Mother & Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones & Jamie Tartt, Keeley Jones & Roy Kent, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Ted Lasso & Rebecca Welton, Keeley Jones & Roy Kent & Jamie Tartt, AFC Richmond Players & Roy Kent, AFC Richmond Players & Jamie Tartt Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Jamie Tartt, Alpha Roy Kent, Protective Roy Kent, Roy Kent Swears, Hurt Jamie Tartt, Jamie Tartt-centric, Jamie Tartt Has a Praise Kink, Jamie Tartt is Good With Kids, Jamie Tartt Needs a Hug, Jamie Tartt Gets a Hug, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Angst and Porn, Eventual Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Smut, Alpha/Omega, Keeley Jones & Jamie Tartt Friendship, they do shag on the dl tho, well they think its dl, Supportive Keeley Jones, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Sexual Harassment, Past Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Bad Parent James Tartt Sr., i hate him, Warning: James Tartt Sr., author's first fic!, Probably OOC!, the most character driven thing ever i love talking about these guys, yes they will eventually get therapy!, Roy Kent is a good boyfriend!, Hurt/Comfort, kind of a slowburn? romantically speaking, the plot goes by pretty quick source https://archiveofourown.org/works/65690044 May 19, 2025 at 11:12AM

[carrotjuicepdf]

I think Roy joining the diamond dogs and then getting the chance to see him in therapy was the final proof that Roy Kent IS a good person, he is willing to better himself even if it’s hard for him to ask for help. If anyone needed more convincing, this was it

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Under the Surface

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wThdKDR by SomebodyIUsetoKnow The overall aim of Analytical Music Therapy is to encourage expression of unconscious thoughts and feelings one might otherwise not know how to face. Since the Bats are notorious for not talking about their feelings, maybe its time they start listening. Dick finally lays it all out for his family and tells them everything that he has struggled with since becoming Robin. He just doesn't know that they're there. Words: 14523, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dinah Lance, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Alfred Pennyworth, Lucifer Morningstar (Vertigo Comics), Oliver Queen, Barry Allen, Diana (Wonder Woman), Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Barbara Gordon, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Dick Grayson, Joseph Wilson (DCU), Rick Flag, Mark Richards, Cody Driscoll, Koriand'r Relationships: Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson (Past), Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Everyone, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain & Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown & Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson & Roy Harper Additional Tags: Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Past suicide attempt (mentioned), Past Sexual Assault (mentioned), Songfic, Sort Of, Everyone Needs A Hug, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Bruce Wayne Gets a Hug, Hopeful Ending, 100 Percent Self Indulgent Fic, DC Let Dick Grayson Be Happy Damnit!, DC Let the Batfam Be Happy Damnit!, Not Barbara Gordon Friendly, Just never liked her for Dick, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bats are always Bad at Feelings read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/wThdKDR

[evermarch]

the finale got mixed reviews but tbh i feel like the goal of the episode wasn’t to be the conclusion of afc richmond’s story. so much of it was wrapping up ted’s story while leaving everyone else’s open-ended. here’s a few reasons why i think that while ted lasso may have ended, this is not the last we’ll see of the lasso universe:

-before the season premiere and throughout the season, there have been partnerships with major brands (nike, the FIFA game, man city, etc) which are undoubtedly a huge money-maker for apple tv. i don’t think they’re ready to give all that up yet just because jason sudeikis is leaving

-ted himself did not have much screen time for several episodes this season. this season was focused heavily on the rest of the cast, and honestly felt like an ensemble dramedy/comedy more than a show with a titular MC

-afc richmond itself has some big moves to make—they dedicated a lot of time this episode to explaining that afc richmond is now part of the champions league, which was not strictly plot-necessary. we’ve not seen many players get shuffled around the league, and many of their stories have wrapped up. there’s an opportunity for fresh characters and understanding how they fit into the established environment created by the lasso leadership, especially in the new kent era. i think that’s the biggest plot-based signal that the team’s story isn’t over yet

-rebecca found her foretold “love” and potential daughter, but there’s still so much of that story to be told. also, she chose her family at afc richmond as her new ambition, and is excited to work with keeley on the prospect of a richmond women’s team. what does this new and improved rebecca look like without rupert hanging over her head?

-keeley chose herself and her ambitions over her love interests, and roy decides to earnestly work on himself by going to therapy, but their love story—and, of course, jamie’s role in it—is still very up in the air

-nate, beard, and roy are now in charge of richmond, but in what capacity? sure, nate had a redemption arc, but will he be satisfied in the long-term not being in charge when just last season he was running his own club? especially since he’ll be subservient to roy, who he saw as a strong threat to his authority in season 2?

-on the cover of trent’s manuscript, ted literally suggests changing the name because it was never about him. the show is named after him, too. if afc richmond’s success wasn’t about him, then that’s a signal it’s time for a new direction with the story

-DR SHARON THE ICON IS BACK. I NEED MORE

[fullofmoonsandstars]

Ted Lasso Season 3, episode 12 spoilers

1. What on earth is this beginning?

2. Isaac being judge is great but also the callback to Jamie and Nate with the money box was something I did not expect

3. God I hate Jane so much.

4. Roy Kent I love you.

5. Rebecca I swear to god what the fuck. You literally said that Richmond is your family and important

6. DID NOT EXPECT SINGING

7. Loving how Nate has just been welcomed back. Nate The Great is back baby

8. I'm going to miss the Pub Lads

9. Trent is an anxious little bean for his book 🥺

10. Roy opening up?? Being vulnerable? Not liking Roy vs Jamie at all. Did not like how Jamie brought up the sex tape. I understand why they had the conversation because Roy was actually not wanting to hurt Jamie but I didn't like it

11. Oh finally. They got their shit together a bit and figured out they're idiots but also yay for the two still being friends

12. Micheal!!

13. ROY WOOFED

14. MASK OF ZORRO REFERENCE

15. Crying over the clip Beard made

16. Michelle's new man has such an annoying vibe

17. Wait they all kept part of the sign 😭

18. Isaac my boy!!!! So proud of that goal

19. When even George is like wtf?? At Rupert

20. I just cried over a fake football match

21. Colin got to kiss his fella on the pitch 😭

22. You're right Ted, air con is a privilege (God I wish it was a thing in the UK)

23. I love Beard staying in England and his plan is flawless but I hate that he's staying for Jane

24. Oh ffs not the Dutch guy

25. Roy being manager is perfect. Sam being part of the Nigerian club! Not sure how I feel about Jamie and his dad.

26. WOMEN'S TEAM

27. Roy getting therapy, I'm so proud of him

28. Fuck the Jane and Beard wedding but I love how the team is there. Is Roy his best man?