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flemingsfreckles · 12 hours

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Replacement Part 2

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Other chapter HERE!

Warnings: none, language, it’s a tiny bit angsty I guess

WC: 2.7k

A/N: I’ve been struggling to write this to say the least… I’ve got certain scenes written, I’m just struggling with making those scenes come together in a fluid way 🤷‍♀️ hopefully things ease up and I’ll be able to get this series rolling

You spent the next day ignoring Jessie’s texts, thankfully not having practice today meant you could avoid Janine’s questions as to why you were being so stand offish to Jessie as well.

However when you did walk into the locker room the following day, there was Janine. You greet her with a smile and a wave and she returns with a cold glance and a whisper of a hello.

“What’s up with you today?” She’s sitting down in her cubby just a few over from yours.

“Why didn't you text back Jessie?” Her voice is hushed despite the locker room being nearly empty. You knew it was coming, you knew Janine would ask.

“I- '' You start to think, you couldn't sit here and tell Janine it's because you wanted nothing to do with her Canadian teammate. You wanted her to go back to London, back to where she wasn't a threat to your playing time, you wanted her anywhere else. Instead you play dumb. “I just, I opened the text late at night, I didn’t want to wake her if she was already asleep, and I guess I forgot to respond in the morning. That's my bad.”

She gives you a questioning look. “Alright, but maybe text her back, I really think you two would get along, I mean you'll meet her today so, forget it whatever.” You give her a nod and find your way over to your locker, noticing the locker next to yours, where Weaver used to be set up, is now empty, Morgan’s name plate is now sitting two lockers away. You ignore it and sit down, starting to change into your practice kit. You change your socks, shorts, and shirt before you make your way around and down the hallway to where all the boots were stored, you grab yours out and turn to head back to your cubby. You hear increased chatter coming from the locker room and when you walk in you see why.

Sinc is standing in the middle of the room holding the shoulders of a shorter player in front of her. You realize Jessie must have arrived given the line of teammates standing in front of her to greet her. You turn your focus back to walking toward your cubby, you sit down and begin unlacing your boots, occupying yourself with them instead of the excitement revolving around the new girl, you’d meet her eventually.

It takes two tries for you to tie your boots comfortably, accidentally pulling way too hard on the laces the first attempt, cutting off the blood circulation to your feet temporarily. As you begin to retie them you see a pair of feet come to stand next to you, facing the empty locker. You feel a bag get set down, you already knew what was happening.

“Hi.” you look up to see Jessie smiling down at you, she's got a hand extended out to you.

You take a second to look at her. You had never met her in person, you’d seen her play before but never been this close to her. She’s smaller than you thought she would be, you knew she wasn’t tall but you now realize that if you stand up her eyes would probably line up with your mouth. She’s got a hat on, her hair is down resting at a length just above her shoulders. The brown of her eyes is lighter than the brown of her hair and her face is covered in freckles. You look down to her big smile, looking at her lips for a moment before snapping out of your thoughts realizing you’ve been sizing up the girl for a little too long.

You reach out your hand, taking hers giving it a shake before you return your focus back to your shoes.

“Hey. Guess this is your cubby now?”

“Uh yeah, I guess they reorganized it for numerical order or whatever, I feel bad they had to shift everyone, I really didn't mind being at the end, it would've been fine. I didn't want to come in here and disturb the system, but the equipment team insisted. I guess it's easier for them, I don't know.” She rambles at you. “Sorry, I don't know why I’m telling you all this.”

You go back to fixing your shoes as Jessie gets ready for practice, you couldn't help but be annoyed by all of your fellow teammates making their way over to Jesies locker, standing conveniently in front of you to talk to her. You listened to them all say how they are looking forward to getting to know her, how they were excited for her to be joining the team, how they were excited for her to be bringing in talent into the midfield, unintentionally insulting you.

As the next few weeks of preseason training went by you could feel your playing time slipping through your fingers. All of those minutes falling into the lap of Jessie.

She was perfect and that pissed you off. You watched her everyday at practice. She was everything you were and also everything you weren’t. She was more tactful than you, she knew more about other players than you, she was faster than you, she rarely made a bad pass, hardly ever missed a pass coming to her, she made clean touches, she was an ideal midfielder.

On top of being a damn good player she was too nice. She was nice to everyone, all the time. It drove you crazy. She was especially nice to you. She would chat with you while you dressed for training, you thought maybe she’d get the hint when you only gave her one to two worded answers and never really initiated a conversation but she didn’t. She’d offer small words of encouragement during practice as well as helping explain what a coach was trying to get across to you, she’d answer questions in meetings and it seemed she always had the right answer.

During her second week, she walked in with Janine, two coffees in her hand before she made her way over to you. She extended her arm and before you could ask her what she was doing she explained for you. “Janine and I stopped for coffee, I figured we’d get you one too, Janine said it was one of your favorite places.”

“Oh, thanks.” You found the interaction a little weird but it was probably Janine’s idea anyway to get you the coffee. You look across the locker room and catch Janine’s eye before raising the cup and shouting her a thanks. You forgot about the surprise coffee incident until a few days later when Jessie brought you a muffin.

She once again stopped in front of where you sat, hand outstretched in your direction with a muffin in her hand. You recognized the muffin, lemon with a blueberry glaze on it. “Uh, Janine mentioned how much you like these when she and I were at the coffee shop a few weeks ago, she said they’re always out and it’s hard to find them, they had them this morning, I remembered so I got it for you.”

You looked from her to the muffin in her hand. The genuineness of her offer was frustrating you, she truly was just being a kind person, but to you it felt manipulative. Like she was trying to somehow get under your skin, into your brain, she brought you treats and coffees, somehow it would lead to your downfall. That’s what ran through your head every time she walked in with something for you.

“What do I owe you?” You reach for your wallet.

“Oh, no, nothing, it’s just a gift.” She shakes the muffin at you, you finally take it from her and she sits down into her cubby next to yours.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” You place the snack into your cubby for safe keeping, you were definitely going to eat that after practice.

“I just wanted to.” She responds with a smile before changing into her practice gear.

The small gifts didn’t stop. She’d bring you coffee or a snack every once in a while which you politely would accept but you couldn’t fathom why she kept doing it. You couldn’t lie, the more it happened the more genuine your thank yous became, it made you feel a little fuzzy inside when she’d hand it to you and your fingers would brush against each other. As if the two of you could maybe be friends at some point. But then you’d go on the field and that feeling would be gone as she would outperform you again and again. You’d see the coffee cup upon returning to the locker room and suddenly have the urge to throw it out, to not let Jessie continue to think you were friends, you weren’t, she was competition. The cycle of hating her, to being a civil acquaintance for just a little bit before training and then back to hating her on the field continued day in and day out, week after week.

You shouldn’t have been surprised when the first game came around and you found yourself as a substitute. You tried to keep your emotions at bay as Jessie’s name was listed in the position yours typically was. You clenched and unclenched your jaw, trying to ignore the frustration bubbling up. When you walk to your cubby Jessie is already there, getting dressed.

“Hello.” She smiles at you as she changes her shirt. Her tone happy, upbeat, of course she was happy, she was starting.

“Hey.” Your tone was the opposite, monotone, dull, no sense of excitement.

“Are you excited for the game?” Jessie continued on. You just shrug in her direction before putting in headphones and sitting down to put on your socks. “A woman of many words.” Jessie is still smiling at you when you look up at her. “Come on, be excited, it’s the start of the season!” She gently shakes your shoulder before turning away to go talk with Janine. You look across the room and catch Sam’s eye, she raises an eyebrow in your direction and you see her stand up quickly looking down at the ground.

Sam finds her way to your cubby. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” You pull a headphone from your ear and look up at her.

“You’re moping, you’re quiet, it’s so obvious you’re not yourself and you haven’t been.” She’s standing one hand on her hip looking down at you. She must’ve noticed the way you looked around the room to all your teammates standing within earshot. “Alright equipment office, let’s go.” She points a finger in the direction of the always empty office.

You follow her in and quickly hop on the desk, grabbing the pen that’s sat on it to begin fidgeting with it.

“Talk to me.” Sam crosses her arms leaning against the door.

“I don’t know.” You shrug, lying straight through your teeth. “Just in a mood, woke up on the wrong side of the bed I guess.”

“Okay, bullshit. I’m not stupid. You’ve been waking up on the wrong side of the bed all pre-season, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think you’re lying. Are you unhappy here? Did something happen in your life? Because you’ve been weird for weeks and I’ve tried, Janine has tried, but you just shrug everyone off, so what gives?”

“Janine’s too busy with her now, I’m surprised she noticed.” You mumble it and you really don’t mean for Sam to hear it but she does. It was true though, you found yourself spending less and less time with Janine. Despite what she had promised you in the car before Jessie’s arrival, you felt replaced. You’d invite her out for a walk, she’d already be with Jessie, she’d invite you to dinner before conveniently mentioning Jessie would be there too. You felt like not only had Jessie come in and taken your spot on the team, she had taken over your spot in Janine’s life.

“Is that what this is all about? Her? Jessie?” Sam makes her way over to you.

You shake your head, it was, but it also wasn’t. It was more about the fact that you were being replaced, not just used as a sub. “I don’t know Sam.”

“I think you do, you just don’t want to say it.”

You throw your hands up toward the door. “It’s so obvious she’s here to replace me.”

“She’s not.” Sam tries to wrap an arm around your shoulder but you stand up before she can. You didn’t need her sympathy or whatever she was trying to do here. You were frustrated, annoyed, she wasn’t helping.

“Don’t lie.”

“I'm not!” Sam tries to explain to you but you don’t want to hear it.

“Hard to argue when she’s starting instead of me today.” Fed up with everyone, you push past Sam back into the locker room, not saying anything to anyone you throw on your warm up shirt and head out to the pitch early just to escape.

The game is relatively uneventful for the first half. You want nothing to do with watching Jessie play but it seems to be all you can do. Your eyes are constantly on her, as if none of your other teammates or the opponents exist. You watch how she effortlessly can make space for herself, how she can make accurate passes barely having to look at the other players, everything she does is clean. She makes an assist just before the half you cheer for a moment, happy to take the lead before a sinking feeling builds in your stomach.

The second half starts with you kicking your feet together as you sat on the bench still. It isn't until 30 minutes remaining that you get told to start warming up and it’s not until 61 minutes that you are standing next to the referee as Jessie’s number is lit up in red and yours is in green. She gives you a high five as you sub on but you don’t listen to the words she says telling you to do well.

You don’t do much for the remaining 29 minutes only getting a few touches, nothing good but also nothing bad. The game ends with a victory and you start walking around the pitch with your teammates.

Jessie finds her way to your side. “You had some nice passes.”

You look at her, feeling as if her comment is almost backhanded. It wasn’t backhanded, Jessie was genuinely complimenting your playing, she meant nothing negative by the comment, you did have some good passes. You just look at her, no smile, no words, nothing.

“You alright?” Jessie presses.

“Look, Jessie, I’m really not interested in talking to you right now.”

You can’t miss the look of confusion, hurt, and sadness across her face. “Oh, okay, I’m sorry.” She stops walking, letting you walk off ahead of her, you continue to walk alone around, signing a few things, taking a few photos but then making your way into the locker room.

You get undressed and shower quickly before coming back to your locker when Jessie walks up. The tension is obvious between the two, she didn’t greet you like normal, she barely acknowledges your existence. You look up to her. She still has a sad expression on her face, she refuses to make eye contact with you as she grabs her stuff and walks away. You notice Janine’s cold stare when she walks past you as you’re headed out of the room your backpack already packed and on your back.

“That was a dick move. She’s just trying to be your friend.”She mutters to you as you pass her. For a second you think about turning around, telling Janine how despite her promise to you that your friendship wouldn’t change, it had, how she had abandoned you the second Jessie showed up. You debate telling her you want nothing to do with Jessie, that you hate her but she’s too damn nice that you can’t outright shoot her down. But you don’t, you keep it in and continue to walk down the hallway. You open up the door to a rainy evening, leaving your head down you pull your hood up and make your way to your car.

#jessie fleming #jflem #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #jessie fleming blurb #canwnt x reader

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green-typewriterz · 2 days

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can you write an art donaldson fic where the reader has been in love with him for the past ten years but it’s obviously unrequited love… until art divorces tashi.

ps: can it be a lil angsty? I love it

Obsessed with your ex

Art Donaldson x reader, Tashi x reader if your looking at the subtext

Ask: above

summary: you're in love with Art...but due to a rather obvious factor known as Tashi Duncan, it's severely unrequited.

Warnings: none?? I guess swearing

Author Notes: sorry this took so long love!!! I was in a major editing groove for a long while meaning my writing got unceremoniously sent to the backburner... but i'm back with this as a sort of consolation!! also i was listneing to teeth by lady gaga on loop while writing this which is why theres some very gay subtext between you and tashi...

word count: 1826

Tashi fucking Duncan. That’s how she was known in your subconscious - though you weren’t sure if it was a positive or negative thing. You wanted to be her, of course you did. She had everything you wanted. A natural skill for tennis, perfect looks and a close (confusing) relationship with both Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig.

Obviously, you were horrendously in love with Art and it hurt to an almost embarrassing degree when some more crass girls in your tennis class began to gossip about Tashi making out with him and Patrick. You weren’t sure where they could’ve got the information, so you told yourself it wasn’t true - a rumour. Regardless, it hurt. Maybe it hurt just as much as Art Donaldson having no clue you felt how you did.

You were reasonably close with Tashi, close enough to call yourself a friend but it was reasonably clear to most that you wanted what she had (and maybe you also wanted her as much as Zweig and Donaldson though that was a deeper emotion). It was interesting to watch how she’d interact with each boy as if they were pawns, something that was increasingly clear at that fateful match.

You could hear the crunch throughout the entire court, though the scream was what rattled you. Art leapt from his place in the stands, running as if she were going to die. You stood, racket still in hand, shifting awkwardly in the absence of play before making your way over to your friend to check on her.

Art knew you were trying to be helpful, his small, thin lipped smile showing this clearly, but Tashi didn’t want you there. So that was that. You let him take over and rocked back on your shins, eyes tracking his hands that gently held her head. A more desperate side of you seemed to hope that it had been you who had broken your leg so he would be holding you instead.

This accident, though sadding, seemed to be detrimental to the success of your career. It was as though you had escaped the shadow of Tashi fucking Duncan and could finally play your best. You slowly but surely took Tashi’s career, the trophies she should’ve won, the brand deals she should’ve posed for. You weren’t ever really sure how to feel - though, you had always wanted to be her.

___

TEN YEARS LATER

Ten years pass quickly yet with excruciating slowness and you found yourself at a peak in your career, winning match after match. This particular one was no different. You were playing against Mueller - a match you knew you’d easily win due to the girl's childish anger.

Your eyes scan the crowd, seeing who had bothered to watch a match with such an obvious ending and you were shocked to see an old face in the crowd. Tashi fucking Duncan. She was sitting comfortably in a lacoste shirt - one that was presumably Art’s - with a large pair of rather reflective sunglasses but her small smile said everything.

It was the nod she sent you that sent a shiver through you. She wanted you to win, told you to win all with just a nod. It was like she wrapped her arms around you and whispered it - you stood in place for a moment, pausing for longer than usual before your serve. The breath you let out was shaky but determined. She told you to win. And so of course you did.

You were the one to approach her after, thanking her for coming and other similar niceties. Eventually though, these ran out and you resorted to the questions you actually wanted to ask.

“How’s Art?”

“Tired.”

Oh. You had expected a longer response at the least. Then again, you hadn't expected her to be so honest - it wasn’t something she was known for. You stood in silence for a bit, still wiping the sweat of the game from your brow when you said, “why are you here?”

Tashi paused, smiling. She had wanted you to ask. “I wanted to see you beat that racist bitch.” The reply was blunt and, yet again, honest. You laughed gently and your eyes trailed to Mueller who was red faced and whining, eyes stroppily trained on the floor.

“Are you happy I did win?”

“No. You’re where I should be. But good for you.”

You paused and almost let her walk away but found your words before it would be a moment too late and followed after - if you were watching yourself do this you would’ve kicked yourself for how pathetic you looked. “Tashi, I idolised you. You had… still have everything I want.”

Tashi’s eyebrow raise spoke for her. She wanted to know what you meant, she was giving you a chance to explain yourself without mentioning her husband.

“I just mean I look up to you, as a player, as a coach.” you replied, attempting to save yourself from the embarrassment of the words you had spoken prior. Your thumb idly massaged circles into your palm as she tilted her head to the side, analysing you.

“Y/n, you’re a good player, with a good coach. But you’re too unemotional, too kind,” Tashi replied, voice even and accurate. She was right, you were far too nice on the pitch. You had never found that anger that other players had, never experienced that rage that made a game so entertaining. Tashi was bored.

“So?”

“So be a bitch. God knows most tennis players deserve it.”

You nod, muttering regards toward art.

---

“I watched Y/n play. She was good.” Tashi said idly, sitting on their clean white sofa, brushing through the blonde hair that rested against her shoulder.

Art looked up, eyes worn but curious all the same. “Was she you?” The question was one he had asked often, though he never meant any malice toward you with it. He asked this whenever Tashi watched a tennis player, something to praise her. This time though, her response had changed, her face lifted with a soft smile.

“She could be.”

---

NEW ROCHELLE

You were through to the English open, of course you were, but your coach still thought it a smart idea to get you to play the New Rochelle challenger as a warm up, to get you ready. Part of you felt like you were just there as an advert, as if you had been invited to play for the sake of selling tickets - you weren’t sure how much you minded this idea.

Something unexpected, however, was Art Donaldson and Tashi Donaldson sitting in the stands, watching you play against the poor tennis player who wasn’t handling her current loss well.

Tashi leans toward her husband. “She’s good,” she whispers. She’s testing him, seeing if he can spot what she had.

“She’s too kind.”

Your eyes linger on Art, trailing over his face. You were still horrendously attracted to him, in fact, you weren’t sure that feeling ever left. Tashi, ever vigilant, had realised this - of course she had. Her stare felt so much more grating without her sunglasses. She knew how to change your emotion, she needed you irritated, jealous so she could watch an entertaining match. Her hand gently resting on Art’s thigh seemed to do this.

You win with much more ferocity than you had been known for, something that erupts the crowd, cheers ringing through you. It felt more rewarding somehow, to win this way. You hadn’t been kind. It felt fun.

Tashi’s smile was venomous. She was right about you. Art followed you back to the changing rooms, wanting to congratulate you but instead found you pacing. You looked up to face him, face hot in embarrassment.

“You won.”

“Fuck the win. I couldn’t give less of a shit.”

His brows furrowed as he stepped closer, holding your hand in his to get you to stop pacing. You pulled away but came to a stop in front of him, angry. He stared for a moment before saying, “I thought you liked playing?”

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, shaking. “I do but that’s not what I want. I don’t want to win. I want something else and Tashi knows it but you never did.”

Art’s more confused now, standing silently as you sit down on the locker room bench, head in your hands. “What do you want?”

You scoff and look up, fury dissipating into disappointment toward both him and yourself. “The fact that you still don’t know now tells me everything.”

You let him walk out silently.

---

Art’s game was much more interesting. It was like watching a dance, the way he and Patrick moved was something you had never seen before. Patrick, as per usual, was cocky and irritating - something you had oddly found endearing when you were younger - but it was Art that had you fixed. He was furious, eyes sharp with tears and knuckles white. There was something that only the three of them knew that created this anger, creating such a captivating match.

The only thing, in your opinion, that beat the high emotion of the match was seeing Art after it, face red and shirt slick with sweat. The thing that held your attention, however, was the slight tan line around his finger. He had taken off his wedding ring.

---

A FEW MONTHS LATER - WIMBLEDON

Art was ready to retire and had been for a while, but you were still going, having found a more passionate love for tennis than you had had before. You were warming up before your final match, only an hour or so before playing the finals at the English open when there was a soft knock on the door of your dressing room.

You opened the door to see Art standing there, eyes soft and observant. You let him in, eyes still stuck to his ringless finger. He traced over your features, seemingly committing parts to memory. “You’ll win today,” He said after a while, words as gentle as the smile on his face.

“Maybe. But am I Tashi?”

“You’re better.”

You both laugh quietly, nothing but a few short breaths, then stare at each other. Though it seemed as though that didn’t last long. Art crossed the small distance between you and pressed his lips against yours. He tasted sweet, like strawberries and cream - no doubt from one of the many Wimbledon food trucks that sold them. You leaned into him, hand finding a place on his thin waist. His own calloused hands rested against your hips, his lips moving gently against yours. Eventually, you both pulled apart, foreheads rested against one anothers. Art smiled.

“I know you’ll win. But just for luck.”

He placed a final kiss against the corner of your smile and headed toward the door, sending a final glance in your direction. You knew you were going to win too, though it felt like - in a way - you already had.

#fic #fanfic #one shot #writing #angst #art donaldson #art donaldson oneshot #art donaldson x reader #challengers oneshot #challengers 2024 #art challengers #challengers

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fictional-singer-competition · 1 day

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✰ Round 1: Side A, Match-up 8

Additional Notes: Miku is the "Final Boss". I've chosen the next Vocaloid with the most votes aside from Miku to join the tournament and it ended up being KAITO. So yeah.

Propaganda!!! + Singing Voice Links (remember: they were sent by submitters!)

For Jonny

Note from mod: one of my online nicknames is harmonica so this was a jumpscare

♡ He’s a steampunk space pirate who plays harmonica, and does a mean evil chant -> https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qtamEcKfDAg

♡ He’s a murderous evil space pirate who also does songs and tragedies and plays harmonica. He does a mean evil chant.

♡ Loser poser cowboy. He got arrested for grievous misuse of rodents one time. He made up a backstory that's a ripoff of his crewmate's. He's the first mate of the Aurora, but insists he's the captain (he's wrong). He did a post patricidal harmonica solo. He probably pushed the woman who made him immortal out of the spaceship (multiple times) (unsuccessfully). His best line is probably this one: "She gave me an interesting prescription - let’s see if I can remember. Oh yeah, half an ounce of lead to be injected directly into the brain. And it wasn’t a prescription for me.”

♡ Post patricide harmonica solo do i need to say more

♡ GUGHUGHGUHUGHGG HGUGHGUHGUH look at him hes such a little guy

♡ He's an immortal space pirate in a band with a bunch of other immortal space pirates who sing about tragedies they've witnessed. He insists he's the captain of these space pirates but everyone else says he's the first mate. He's a little feral (and by a little I mean a lot. Extremely feral) and commits atrocities and acts of massive violence for fun. He can excuse mass murder but he draws the line at sleeping-beauty-esque kissing someone to wake her up. His actual singing is also really really good, often he's singing in character as someone else (various characters from the tragedies he sings about) and he manages to voice act AND sing at the same time which is so so impressive. Also he's blorbo and I'm looking at you eith big autistic eyes please please pleeeeease vote for him

♡ My favorite tiny asshole

♡ He killed his father and sometimes gets angsty about it. He is a member of a fictional space pirate crew called the Mechanisms, who rove around space looking for "fun, violence, adventure, and violence". He is the first mate of the crew, although he insists that he is the captain (only to be corrected by the rest of his crew as well as every fan). He is also the lead singer of the band and plays the lead role in all of their albums. Also, almost the entirety of the fandom along with the rest of his crew think that he pushed the lesbian space vampire doctor that made all of them immortal out of an airlock.

SINGING VOICE SAMPLE:

youtube

For KAITO

♡ I love him your honour. Seriously he's probably the 2nd most iconic Vocaloid after Miku (and hands down without a doubt the most iconic MALE Vocaloid). He's been around since almost the very beginning of Vocaloid, years longer than Miku has, and he still has a lot of dedicated fans like myself. He's just a silly little guy who loves singing and ice cream.

♡ Kaito is one of the most versatile Vocaloids. When tuned properly he can sound near human-like and has such a pretty voice but can make the funniest sounds. He can also sing in lower registers (I think that's the term). It's why I've loved him for the past 15 years. Naoto refers to him as his son and I think that's cute too.

♡ OKAY HE'S MY FAVORITE VOCALOID I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND HE GETS SO LITTLE ATTENTION PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE HE DESERVES EVERYTHING HE MEANS THE WORLD TO ME he makes me so happy I have a lil keychain of him on my phone he's my best friend he's always with me and I love making him sing with my computer (also named my computer after him) PEOPLE DON'T LIKE HIS VOICE BUT THEY DON'T KNOW ANYTHING OKAY HIS VOICE IS SO PRETTY TO ME VOTE FOR HIM HE CAN BE ANYTHING YOU WANT but he's my best friend ^^

SINGING VOICE SAMPLE:

youtube

#best fictional singer competition #tumblr tournament #jonny d'ville #the mechanisms #kaito vocaloid #vocaloid

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rubysgirl32 · 2 days

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Behind the Cameras

Ruby Cruz x Fem!reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers (kinda), VERY ANGSTY (reader and Ruby get to a fight), swearing, self hatred thoughts, and inner homophobia from reader

Summary: Reader gets paired with ruby for the press tour, which sucked because ruby seemed to constantly be dick around her.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

Being casted for the second season of Willow was something Y/n never really expected. The audition in itself felt like a fever dream, but actually getting the role felt like her entire life was falling into the place she would dream of as a kid. She grew up with Willow, her brother and her were obsessed with George Lucas, so it was a constant binge between Star Wars, Willow and Howard the Duck. It was truly a dream for her, to get to fly to Wales, to be invited into this magical world and meet everyone, especially Warwick. What wasn’t a dream come true, was her.

“And yeah, this is truly a gift being back to playing a fucking disney princess, its crazy to me” Ruby replies at the interviewer, her brushed hair perfectly in place, and her lips forming a stupid perfect smile in such an effortless way as answers the question.

“And with the new cast, how has it been adding new characters and extending the willow family?” The woman asks, shuffling in her seat as she leans in closer for the answer

Ruby’s smile turned plastic quickly. She looked down at her finger and fiddled with her rings.

“Yeah, it was… fun. I mean with these new characters, the stories go further and are truly more interesting. We truly did welcomed everybody with such open arms-”

She stopped the video and looked back at her brother who stood with his arms folded.

“That lying bitch” She gasps “Open arms? She is one of the coldest people I know- she never even once during filming spoke to me, and then says she welcomed me with open arms?” she huffs out pure anger as she rolls her eyes passing the phone back to her brother. The rest of the cast did receive her with open arms. Everyone was really lovely, and she quickly became a tight knight family, but ever since the table reading back in October, Ruby has yet to speak or even present herself to her. She dodges her in corridors, leaves whenever Y/n enters the room and once she even left early from training because of her.

“Just wanted to show it to you before you heard from the rest,” Jack shrugged. He then sat next to her on the couch, turned off his phone and threw it softly til the last cushion. The girl looked back at her brother with a soft smile. God she was lucky enough to have him around. She truly didn’t know where she would be without him.

“Thanks” She says softly as she grabs the TV remote “Let’s watch something, i need to get that moment off my head”

“How about Star-” Jack begging to say

“Im tot watching Star Wars again” She cut off like always.

He laughs, rolling his eyes and grabs his drink from the center table. The siblings spent the day watching an X-men marathon, eating whatever was left in the fridge and pantry, just like when they were kids. It was not until noon,on the third film, when finally broke the silence between both. Jack looked over at his sister and smiled sadly.

“I’m worried,” he confesses “Press tour stars tomorrow, and it’s supposed to be this amazing thing where you guys have fun and get to introduce the world to this new season but… i'm scared its gonna get ruined by Ruby’s stupid comments and bullshit”

The younger sibling sighs knowing very well what he ment. Last week she got informed that she was sadly paired with Ruby for the interviews. Since she was a brand new character and never actually done a press tour for anything, they decided to pair her with someone who already has experience with interviews, and apparently the universe thought they would make a great pair.

“I’ll survive” she says blankly “Plus, we are spending the day talking with other people, so i hope it won't be that bad”

“If anything happens you call me, okay?” He raises his hand and points up his pinky. This is some stupid thing they use to do when they were kids, but every now and then they would bring it back

“Promise” she links their pinkies and tightly squeezes them.

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

From the morning she woke up at 7 am, a heavy pressure chest seemed to be placed roughly. From when she got out of bed to the moment she got into the tall building where the interviews were being made. Her very strict assistant, Lola, told her the plan for the day as they were shown the small break room, where she had to change and put on the interview outfit. It was a light blue and white dress that looked very 60s, some pearl earrings and a necklace that matched, and that somehow it made her feel better. Sometimes an outfit can change her entire mood. Then the make up artist came in and started applying some soft natural makeup that consisted of blushy cheeks and a soft eyeliner. But even after that, there was still something tense and heavy on her chest that didn’t seem to want to leave her alone. She walked out of the break room, into the place where she would spend the next 7 hours answering interviews. She waves hello to everyone as they start to put the mic pack and check on her makeup. She then sat on the chair and took out her phone to see a message from her brother, Jack.

Annoying older brother: Good luck!!

Annoying older brother: Remember our promise, call me if anything happens

She smiles and just types back an eye rolling emoji as a response. She put down her phone once she felt someone sit next to her, and softly reminded herself where she was and the way she was supposed to behave. The silence took over as she left her phone under her leg. She looked over to her right to see Ruby. She looked nice. She was wearing an oversized red blouse and a white jacket, and her hair was messy.

“Hi” She greets softly with a small wave

Ruby looks at her, nods shortly and looks away.

Y/n tried to take the response in a less personal way, as she looked away and tried to swallow the anxiety away. But once the young interviewer arrives, and Ruby literally stands up to shake his hand and greet him, it seemed like her struggle was not going anywhere. She stood up too, to shake his hands and greet him as they got ready for the interview. They haven’t even started and she was already fiddling with the hem of her dress nervously, like a child.

“Well Ruby, Y/n, I just want to thank you for giving us another season of Willow. We are truly excited to see not only the adventure you go on now, but the new characters as yourself y/n”

The girl just smiled and nods

“Now how does it feel to join such a tight knit family, how have they treated you?” The interviewer asked as he shuffled with his cards

What a perfect question.

“It's truly been a gift” she starts, her voice being slightly weak but she just clears her throat and begin again “I grew up huge George Lucas fan and honestly at first I was truly terrified of joining the cast and crew, but they really have received me with… open arms” She says bitterly, noticing how Ruby looked at her from the side, clearly noticing her reference “It’s been such a dream come true, really”

The interviewer nodded and read the next card “Now giving to much away, what can you tell us about this new season”

“Well” Ruby stars, with a hand on her jaw “There’s definitely a lot more action. Me and y/n actually have a lot of scenes together where we had so much fun! And the adventures this season are-”

She could hear Ruby speaking but the girl’s head stopped listening.

“...So much fun!”

Her voice ringed in her head again, as her thoughts ran crazy. Y/n couldn't remember a single time she had “fun” with Ruby on set. Actually, she can clearly remember that every fight scene they had together was actually hell for her, since Ruby had past training and it seemed so easy for her to just pick up on choreography. Every time she got a move wrong or stumbled on the fight, Ruby would roll her eyes and sigh frustrated as if she was the one messing up. Every single scene together was hell for both of them, and she just said they had “So much fun”?

The anxiety in her chest started to slowly become fury, and confusion of why would Ruby ever lie in an interview if not needed. Her ears turned bright red and she fisted her left hand, digging her white painted nail into her palm.

“Right y/n?” Ruby looked at her and gave me a tight smile. It was clear from the stare that her answer was not really something she could choose or even think about.

“Yeah” she nods, trying to smile at the interviewer “So much… fun!”

The guy bought it clearly as he continued with his vague and irrelevant questions. As Ruby answered most of them, Y/n just sat back in quiet thinking about Ruby’s past words. Every now and then she would nod her head, agree, or even let out a fake laugh, but never really truly talk much. The interviewer didn’t seem to mind, and so she just stayed silent.

“Maybe I wasn't gonna be as okay as I thought I was gonna be” Y/n thought to herself as she fiddled with her ring on her finger. She wished she could be back, in her house, with her brother, binging stupid movies and letting her thoughts drown into the back of her head.

“Last question before I leave,” the man announces as he looks at his watch, checking the time “Yesterday, we interviewed Tony and Erin and they told us of the wrapping party you guys had at your house. Do you guys have any funny or just stupid memories of that night?”

Y/n cluelessly, tilts her head and looks at Ruby who laughs as she clearly knows what he’s talking about

“Oh my god! The wrapping party was so much fun!” she said calmly, completely forgetting the fact that the girl next to her was not even aware of the event “So yeah, after almost a year of shooting the second season, i invited the cast and crew to my house, to like a goodbye party of something but…a funny memory? Oh yeah! We ordered pizza, but I'm talking about tons of pizza, and we made this… kind of tower? We stackled them up until we literally had to get on top of each other to put on the next, and that was honestly so much fun” she said “or when me, Dempsey, Amar and Tony did like a weird karaoke battle? That was fun too”

Something in Y/n started to break slowly. Her head spinning with bullet-like thoughts that seemed to kill every grasp from reality she held. They had a wrapping party? With cast and crew? With everybody? Y/n didn’t even know, she actually never heard about it until now… 7 months later. She never knew about the party, she was never invited. And then something hit her like a truck. Of course she wasn't invited. She’s new. She barely knows the cast, got a year too late to the family, of course they were not gonna invite her. The anxiety in her chest started to rise, stopping right at her throat and completely choking her.

“And you y/n?” the interviewer asked her “any favorite memories of that night?”

Ruby turned to look at the girl and it felt like her gaze placed the girl under pure pressure. It felt like her stare burned into her head and made the anxiety get even worse. Her fisted hand grew sweaty as she swallowed roughly.

“I-” the words wouldn’t come out but she just tried again doing her best to look as normal as possible “Yeah… The karaoke battle was crazy fun”

The man behind camera yelled cut, the interviewer then excused himself as in came the assessor to come touch up the makeup, outfits and mics. But before anyone could even get close to her, Y/n she marched quickly straight to the small break room they gave her. She closed the door and ran to the desk filled with water bottles. She took one, twisted it open harshly and started chugging the cold water. She could feel it run down her body, but that didn’t seem to calm her. She took it off her mouth and breathed heavily , leaving the water bottle with the rest. The first thing that came into mind was texting her brother, so she looked around the room for her phone, moving the cushions and bags.

Three knocks came from the door and then someone just opened it. Ruby came in looking quite weirded out by the mess Y/n was making. She closed the door, causing the desperate girl to get started and turn around to see Ruby staring at her.

“Ruby” She stammered “I- I thought you were-”

“We have a 5 minute break” she said coldly

“Yeah sorry, I was just looking for my pho-”

“I don’t care” she snapps back

Y/n just nod and bite her lip harshly trying to push back any stupid emotions. She was an actress for god sake, why couldn’t she fake her emotions at the moment. Why couldn’t she act as if Ruby’s word didn’t mean a single thing. It was so overwhelming that her face clearly started growing red and Ruby clearly seemed to notice

“What’s wrong?” She said as she left her purse on the couch, her voice sounded quite genuine instead of annoyed, which was a shocker “why are you crying?”

Y/n turns around towards the dresser with a mirror, to see the soft mascara running down her cheek

“Shit!” she swore under her breath, swiping the tear away leaving it smeared across her face “Shit! Lola gonna kill me” she then ran towards the bathroom to grab some toilet paper and placed it under the water tab to start trying to clean it away. Her soft swipes turned harsh as the stain on her face didn’t want to leave. If Lola saw her she would be pissed for screwing up her first ever interview “Fuck!”

“Heyheyhey'' Ruby said, grabbing the girl’s wrist and stopping the wet toilet paper from slapping her face. The touch was meant to be sweet, but it came out quite harsh since the grip on the wrist was quite strong. "Water's not gonna work, it's probably waterproof, just…” Ruby lets go of her wrist to pushed her hair back with a sigh “Seat on the toilet, let me get some make up remover”

Y/n, let go of the wet toilet paper and left it in the sink. As she sat down, more and more tears started to fall, and she just could stop them. Of course the cast wouldn’t hang out with her, how could she be so stupid to believe they would invite her in the first place. Y/n pushed her hands deeper into her face, completely ashamed of her utter ignorance.

Ruby walked back into the room with a bottle of make up remover and cottons on her hand.

“Come on” she says coldly “we have another interview in a few” She then kneeled in front of the crying girl and started to place some of the liquid on the cotton ball.

“Why did you say that?” Y/n snapped, removing her hands from her face to meet Ruby’s blue eyes. It was clear that she was trying to look away, avoiding the girl gaze as always, but Y/n was quicker and spoke before Ruby even had a chance to look away “Why did you say any of that when you know that shit isn’t fucking true”

“I-” she began

“What did I ever do to you?” Her voice broke while speaking. Y/n felt her anxiety strangle her so tightly that the words could barely come out

Ruby freezes and leaves the bottle on the floor a bit too strongly as she looks back up at me with a frustrated sigh. Her frown is lowered and smiled flattened

“Nothing” she says simply looking at the floor embarrassed

“Then why do you ignore me? Why do you always look at me like I'm a bother? Why didn’t you fucking invite me to the wrapping party?”

“Because…” she said before swallowing “Because i…” Her words never really leading anywhere

“Because what?! What Ruby?” Y/n insists back completely desperate, her tears now running down her neck.

Ruby shook her head and she stood up and dusted off her pants clearly bothered. She shook her head, her hair moving so perfectly.

“I can’t do this right now” she says walking out the small bathroom with an tired huff “I’m gonna get some air”

Y/n stood up and followed behind, her slingback heels clacking against the floor

“Ruby!” she shout frustrated “Answer me, please”

Ruby turned and it was clear she was mad, and it was written all over her face. On the way she pursed lips in disgust, in the way her eyebrows met harshly on top of her eyes, on the way cheeks were red and her eyes dead serious.

“Because…” she says, completely stone cold, and her head tilted to the side “Because you’re… fuck!”

Y/n took a careful step back, her lower lip slightly quivering. The words she never said seemed to be telling her the entire story.

Because she’s annoying, because she’s rude, because she’s not really part of the family

Ruby groaned as she ran her hand through the hair. Then she walked toward the other girl, her steps firm and commanding, intimidating Y/n, making her walk back completely scared of what just happened now. She walked back to the small bathroom, till she hit the wall. The girl tried to press herself against the wall as much as possible as she closed her eyes and raised both of her hands, in defense.

Ruby was barely a few inches away, looking at the scarred girl she was pressing against the wall. Everything seems to be going from bad to worse, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/n was shivering like a scared cat. The short haired girl sighed, placing both of her hands in her face, groaning loudly. Y/n opened a single eye, to see her co-star, who then looked back at her, their eyes locked in. And it was then when Y/n felt her warm lips on top of her. Ruby was grabbing the girl's jaw as she pushed her back against the wall. Y/n was frozen in her place, not reciprocating the kiss, even though her heart seemed to scream at her to do so.

Ruby stopped and then separated their lips, to look up at the girl, whose eyes were wide open in fear. Ruby inhaled completely terrified as her face turned white.

“Oh my god” She whispered “I am so-”

Ruby interrupted when she felt 2 strong arms on her back, a chest against hers and shaking lips against hers. At first it was really weird for both of them, especially for Y/n who has actually never kissed a girl. Or even thought about a girl like that. It took a few seconds for them to melt into the kiss, softly placing their hands around each other, softly caressing and touching each other as much as they could. The kiss was salty with Y/n tears, but sweet with Ruby’s chapstick. They could stay there forever

“Guys! The interviewer is here!” Lola yelled as she knocked loudly. Her voice quickly made Y/n freeze, stopping the kiss

Ruby looked back at the girl, opening her eyes softly to find a single tear falling off of Y/n’s face. She was pale and completely frozen in place, as the knocks kept pounding against the door. So the short girl ran towards it and started to talk to the woman. Y/n then quickly picked up the cotton with makeup remover and wiped it hardly against her cheeks.

Ruby Cruz just kissed her. Ruby, who used to hate and ignore her, just kissed her. And she liked it. She kissed a girl for the very first time and she… enjoyed it. Her once toxic thoughts turned into existential questions that seemed to pierce harder and deeper into her.

Was she… gay? Did she like girls now? What about boys? Why does she feel like this? Why has she never felt like this? Why now? Why Ruby?

Ruby then came back to the bathroom and stood closely to the girl who was lost inside her mind. She softly placed her hands on her jaw and moved her face till they were facing each other. She took the cotton from the girl’s hand and started swiping it on her cheek and under eye carefully. Y/n was quite confused, by the change from hatred to utter sweetness, didn’t really make sense in her head. Neither did the strong beating of her heart. So closed her head and tried to concentrate on her breath, calming down and relaxing for the next interview, as Ruby's soft hand was still on her face, and the cotton brushed the tear away.

“Done” Ruby said letting go and throwing away the cotton ball “Let’s go”

Both of them left the room, with at least 2 feet of distance between each other. They walked towards the chairs where the assessor stood, tapping his foot impatiently. Both girls sat and the man got close to check up on everything. As she got ready, Y/n noticed her phone that she left on the chair last interview and just texted her brother as quickly as possible

Snarky little sister: Hey

Snarky little sister:U were right

Snarky little sister:Can you come pick me up? plz?

Snarky little sister: I really don’t need a car ride back with her

She sent her location and told him she was gonna be out by 5. Then she placed her phone in sleeping mode and prepared herself for the next interview. At least she wasn't crying anymore, and with the bit of make up they just applied, she now looked decent

The rest of the day was a blur. It was interviews followed by more interviews. The same questions being asked over and over. Eventually there was a lunch break where stuffed her face with everything possible, so if Ruby tried to talk to her, she wouldn't be able to answer. Her head was still aching with questions and an overload of feelings. She would constantly check the time, trying for it to move faster, so she could go home. Till she could. After 6 hours in the same room, Y/n didn’t bother to change, she ran out the door as soon as she could. The elevator silence was hell, so Y/n just focused on her breath once again, and once the doors opened, she bolted. Lola and Ruby tried their best to catch up with the girl.

“Y/n, the car hasn't arrived yet, where are you going?” Lola said, as she checked her phone “The chauffeur is 5 minutes away!”

Y/n turned around, walking back carefully. Her small heels clacked against the white floors, and she tried her best to stay calm and not just explode.

“Jack came to pick me up” she answered, her voice on edge “I’m leaving with him, i'll text you when i get home”

Then Ruby started walking faster and calling her name, to catch up with the actress, but she left out to the street. Y/n got into a blue car that took off quickly. The blue-eyed girl watched as the car drove away, with Y/n. She cursed under her breath, and waited for her car to arrive.

In the other car, Jack had a hand on the wheel and the other on Y/n’s shoulder, as she cried softly. She would look out the window trying to think of anything else, but it was quite hard when she could still feel Ruby’s lips, and could still taste her chapstick

─── ∘°❉°∘ ───

#ruby cruz #ruby cruz x reader #ruby cruz bottoms #ruby Cruz fanfic #ruby Cruz angst #hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #kit tanthalos x reader #tanthamore #my writting #my gifs

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lokimobius · 2 days

Note

🖤 please 😭

I wrote most of this on the bus to and from work today lmao! I did want to make this more angsty but I couldn't bring myself to do that.

I hope you enjoy, anon! 🥹

🖤 kissing while crying / goodbye kiss / desperation

They stood at the cliff edge and watched as the tide crashed against it. It was a long way down. Except, it wasn’t. They’d just spent the last few minutes throwing rocks off the edge, testing out a hypothesis. The rocks should have fallen right into the ocean, rippling the water as they broke the surface. But they didn’t. Instead, they disappeared into nothingness, as if pulled into an alternate dimension.

Much to Mobius’ protest, Loki was stooped down by the edge of the cliff, watching intently as the last rock fell. “It has to be through there,” he said as he stood up and brushed the dust on his hands off onto his trousers.

Mobius instinctively moved closer to him, his hand reaching closer to his arm, just in case. “Ok, let’s say, just theoretically, that it is through there. How are we going to reach it?”

Loki looked at him sheepishly, and, oh no, he did not like that look. Loki was about to suggest something stupid. He took a breath and opened his mouth to talk, but Mobius covered it with his hand.

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.”

Loki removed Mobius' hand from his mouth and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll probably survive.” The corners of his mouth quirked up a little bit. “I have a good track record.”

Mobius’ hands flew to his hips, and he stared at Loki incredulously. “Don’t joke about this, Loki. Just because you’ve survived this long by throwing yourself in the face of danger does not mean I’m letting you do it again.”

“I’m the best chance that we have at finishing this mission safely.”

“And that’s a chance I’m unwilling to take.”

“Mobius–”

“Sorry. No.” He glared at Loki, holding up his hand, palm outstretched towards Loki’s face, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Mobius didn't want to hear it. “Come up with something else.”

He paced back and forth, searching his brain for any kind of option that didn’t involve Loki leaving. However, he knew that there wasn’t anyone else more well-equipped to handle this situation than Loki. His heart lurched at the thought.

“Someone else can go.” He offered weakly.

“Mobius, the Aether is protected by dark magic.” He gave him a withering look. “This portal could lead anywhere. You’d be willing to risk another’s life by putting them in such danger?”

“I am not putting your life at risk.” He snapped. “End of discussion.”

He could not believe that Loki was being this reckless with his life. He turned away from his partner as tears formed in his eyes.

“Mobius, whatever has gotten into you? I know we tend to clash when coming up with ideas, but it’s unlike you to be so adamant.”

Mobius sighed as he looked up at the purple sky, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. Green and blue clouds swirled above them, tinging the world with an uneasy hue.

It hadn’t been long since they’d saved Loki from the end of time. He thought that they’d at least be able to spend a bit more time together before he started throwing himself into danger again.

In this timeline, Kang followed the path that Thanos had taken in Loki’s original timeline. The mission was simple: find all of the infinity stones before Kang could; otherwise, he’d be able to traverse the multiverse at his own will.

Luckily for them, they’d managed to find most of them fairly easily. It was only the Reality Stone that remained. Which, inconveniently, was hidden away behind a portal, out of reach for mere mortals such as himself.

He knew that Loki was right. He was the best chance that they had, and he probably would be fine. But he was so scared of losing him again. Not after last time. Not after he didn’t know if Loki would ever come back from the tree.

The memory of Loki alone at the end of time flashed in his mind. His heart had already been broken once; he couldn’t go through it again. Not when he finally had a purpose—a reason to live for the first time in his long, long life.

Loki was at his side in an instant. He held Mobius’ face in his hands carefully. “Mobius...”

“You’ll come back, right?” He pleaded, his voice shaking. “Promise me you’ll come back.” He gripped the lapel of Loki’s coat so forcefully that his knuckles turned white. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t.

“Of course. I swear to you, Mobius, I will always come back to you.”

Loki leant close and kissed away Mobius’ tears as they fell down his cheeks. His lips were light on his skin, so tender that Mobius wanted to melt.

He turned his head to the side and bumped his nose with Loki’s before covering his lips with his. The kiss was soft and slow, one that made Mobius wish he had the power to pause time.

He pressed harder and licked at Loki’s bottom lip in hopes that deepening the kiss would convince Loki to come back to the TVA with him. But Loki pulled back slightly, smiling against his lips.

The kiss returned to softness, it lacked the heat and lust that Mobius had tried to inject into it, but it was still full of love and trust.

It felt like a promise.

Loki pulled away and ran a hand through Mobius’ hair in an attempt to soothe him further.

“I’ll complete the mission successfully and be back before dinner.” He said softly as he continued to caress Mobius’ face. He had a determined look on his face, but his eyes were soft and warm. The smile that he gave Mobius then was one of his favourites; it was so fond, and his eyes crinkled adorably. It was the smile that was reserved just for him.

“I’ll even do all the paperwork by myself for all the trouble I put you through,” He added with a quick peck.

Mobius laughed and shook his head, releasing his grip on his partner. “If you miss dinner, I will hunt you down personally.”

"Yes, sir.” Loki saluted him with a wink.

Loki moved towards the cliff edge, his back to the abyss behind him. He didn’t look scared at all. In fact, his eyes sparkled, and he smiled at Mobius once more.

He bowed and took Mobius’ hand in his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“See you at home.”

His eyes met Mobius’ as he jumped backwards off the cliff, disappearing into the portal far below.

“Mischievous scamp,” Mobius said to the now empty space in front of him. He took out his TemPad and opened a door back to the TVA, ready to wait anxiously for Loki’s return.

#lokius #my writing #my fic #kiss game

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noturlondonboy · 1 day

Text

Me Without You

Katelena Angstshot

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Summary: Kate and Yelena get into a horrific car crash the same day that Yelena is planning to propose.

Warnings: major injuries, car crash, blood, talk of/implied adult content, gore, hospital stay, coma, memory loss, angst, mental illness, more angst, me making up medical stuff, swearing, did I mention angst yet

Positive!Content warnings: Wandanat, baby Billy and Tommy, Katelena fluff

A/N: Yes this is super angsty and kinda stupid and doesn't make sense but I swear on my life that no one dies and it has a happy ending so read it anyway :)))

This is NOT edited because my draft didn’t save and I am not about to redo all of it rn so

"Kate Bishop, if you touch that volume button again, I swear to god I will kick your ass so hard it flies out your fucking mouth."

Kate freezes with her hand on the dial, looking guilty as hell. "But it's so quiettttt." She had been blasting Mother Mother for the past ten minutes until Yelena's brain had exploded and she turned it down- she couldn't handle listening to it the entire drive to Clint's place. The morning had already been overstimulating enough.

Yelena pins her with a stare when they reach a red light. "I'm the one driving, which means I'm in control of the volume, if not the music. Hands off."

The archer pouts and slumps back in her seat, folding her arms over her chest. "You had the aux cord when I was driving yesterday," she whines.

"You didn't fight me for it," Yelena points out. She reaches over and cups Kate's chin, pulling her girlfriend's face close to press a soft kiss against her lips. "Cheer up, little hawk. You can have it on the way home."

Kate's demeanor immediately brightens, and she presses forward to kiss Yelena a little harder, holding it for a moment even after the light turns green and the car behind them honks. Yelena breaks off and presses on the gas frantically, her cheeks burning, and Kate laughs softly.

"You're so cute when you blush, baby," she says, leaning her chin in her palm to stare at her girlfriend's side profile as she drives their little Mitsubishi.

Yelena's grin is wide and bright, albeit shy. "Shut the fuck up, Kate Bishop," she says lovingly.

"I love youuuu, Lena."

"I love you too, stupid."

Kate settles back in her seat, rather satisfied with herself as she watches the snowy road go by. It was a little early for them to get snow, but a freak storm had blown in last night and iced the roads over, and Kate wasn't going to complain either way. She thought it was pretty.

"What if I turn your song on? Then can it be louder?" she asks after a couple minutes, the last notes of Hayloft fading out.

Yelena purses her lips in thought. "I suppose so," she concedes. Kate hums and pulls her phone out to find American Pie on Spotify and happily turns the volume back up.

They both sing and dance along once the lyrics start, and Kate's cheeks hurt with how much she's smiling when she replays the song. Yelena always straightens up a bit more to this music specifically, and the way she seems to glow as she dances to it makes butterflies erupt in Kate's stomach.

"You're beautiful- you know?" Kate mutters, watching Yelena with soft eyes. The blonde grins again and turns to her girlfriend at another red light, pulling her close once more to press a searing kiss to her mouth.

"And you, Kate Bishop, are very charming." She reaches a hand up to cup the archer's cheek and kisses her deeper, smoothing her thumb along her strong jawline.

Kate grins into Yelena's lips, and leans back again with a content sigh when the light turns green. They would be at Clint's in about ten minutes. "Thanks, Lena. I try."

A soft chuckle. "You're beautiful too, detka."

Kate blushes despite herself and gives a happy sigh. "God, I am so gay. This is so gay. We're so gay. I love being a lesbian."

Yelena barks a laugh this time. "I would hope so, Kate Bishop! We've been dating for six years." Even as she says it, she's consciously aware of the ring box in her left pocket, heavy and waiting. Her heart glows, and another smile has her dimples popping out.

"What's the grin for?" Kate asks, poking at Yelena's cheek.

"Just excited to see Wanda and Natasha." The two women had twins just a few months ago before they moved back from New York, so neither Yelena or Kate had been able to meet the new baby boys. They were staying with Clint and Laura's family until they found a new house, probably somewhere in Ohio.

Kate coos loudly, squishing her own cheeks. "Oh my goodness, I'm so excited to meet Billy and Tommy. The pictures they sent are so darling- I'm gonna die, Lena."

Her girlfriend reaches a hand over to squeeze her thighs. "Do you think you'd ever want kids, Kate Bishop?" They had talked about their future over and over before, but now with the two of them having a set of new nephews, the option of a family felt more real.

Kate twines their fingers together and lifts Yelena's hand to kiss her scarred knuckles. "As long as they're with you, Yelena."

"God- you really are cheesy." The assassin is still blushing furiously either way, and she marvels at how well Kate is able to turn her all gooey even after crushing on her for years and years.

"I can't help it," Kate says cheekily.

"No, god, you really can't, can you? You'd probably keel over and die if you ever tried to be serious for once in your life."

Kate punches her shoulder lightly and leans over the center console to smack a wet kiss on her girlfriend's cheek. "Shut up, loser."

Yelena just cackles and turns to the archer. "You know I'm right!"

"Yeah, yeah." Kate hums a laugh and settles into her seat, gazing out the window. "I love the snow."

"I know, darling."

"Maybe we can take the twins sledding."

"We can't take four-month-olds into this weather, Kate Bishop. They'll get sick."

"Booooo."

"Dummy."

"Asshole."

"Fucker."

Kate grins. "Damn right I am."

"Kate!" Yelena's jaw drops, and her face is absolutely blazing. Her girlfriend just cackles.

"You sure weren't complaining last night when I used the new str-"

"Kate Bishop! Shut up! I'm trying to drive!" Yelena can feel her stomach pooling with heat, which is rather distracting when she's trying to navigate their car over icy roads.

Kate gives a shit-eating grin and waggles her eyebrows. "I brought it with me in my bag."

Yelena's skin feels like it's being torched, and her jaw drops so hard she swears she can feel it hit the seat under her as she whips her head away from the road to glare dumbly at Kate "You what?!"

Except that there's a patch of black ice right in front of their car, and when she takes her eyes off of the road, the tires choose to go skidding right at that moment.

It happens too fast.

Kate is shouting, reaching over to Yelena. The assassin's hands are wrenching frantically at the wheel, and there's a truck horn blaring from all directions- one second, two, and then a screeching crash erupts around them.

The world goes black.

——

Yelena's head feels like a horse is kicking into it repeatedly, and something hot and sticky is dripping into her eye as she slowly comes to. The pavement is scorching beneath her hands, digging into the flesh of her raw palms that have been scraped open on the road. She groans and blinks fruitlessly, each action slamming lighting into her brain.

What the fuck just happened?

Her legs are twisted uncomfortably underneath her, but as she regains enough consciousness to assess the rest of her body, she concludes that nothing is numb to the point of paralysis, probably due to the adrenaline flooding her system.

Where's Kate?

A spike of strength spears through her, and Yelena shoves herself to her shaking feet, biting back a scream and wrapping an arm around her torso when her ribs wrench with pain. The burning wreckage of the car crash in front of her is horrific- she doubles over her bleeding knees and empties her stomach on the pavement when she sees it.

Their car is completely demolished, with the truck that slammed into them not looking that much better, and Yelena is sick for a second time when she spots the damage done to her driver's side. She should be dead. How is she not dead?

Where is Kate?

Yelena opens her mouth to call for her girlfriend but chokes as blood floods over her tongue, and she realizes with a dull pang of horror that she bit into it in the collision so hard that the flow of sticky red is almost gushing.

A problem for later.

She forces the pain away and frantically stumbles closer to the crash, legs shrieking. "Kate!" she screams out, her mouth on fire as blood continues to sputter from her lips. "Kate!"

The car is in flames, and oil and gasoline are dripping dangerously from the twisted metal. "Kate! Please!"

There.

She spots her girlfriend as fire starts to crawl towards her, and Yelena lets out a wail as she forces her legs to go faster. The archer is sprawled out awkwardly on her belly with her cheek pressed into the pavement, blood pooling underneath her head and legs. Shallow breaths are pushing at her chest, but they're wet and raspy.

Yelena can feel the sobs shaking her own body, but sound has begun to fade from her senses, and all she knows is the heat of Kate's blood on her hands as she scrambles to pick the unconscious woman up. Kate's body is a dead weight over her shoulders. Yelena drags the two of them as far away from the crash as she can, and when they reach a spot of snowy grass on the side of the road, she's distantly aware of frantic voices and the wailing of sirens.

"Kate," she sobs, dropping herself and her girlfriend down into the snow. Red immediately begins to stain it. The archer has not stirred, and when Yelena sees the damage down to her face and head, she's sick for a third time. Her head spins mercilessly.

"Please, no."

But Kate is still breathing, so Yelena curls herself around her girlfriend and moans at the pain throbbing through her body.

"Kate Bishop, please. Please."

The ambulance cannot come fast enough.

——

Natasha is there when Yelena wakes up in the hospital, and she stares at her older sister for a few seconds before the redhead realizes she's awake.

"Oh, Yelena," she murmurs, getting out of her chair and hurrying to the side of Yelena's bed, leaning over her to hug her carefully.

"Tasha," Yelena whimpers, reaching out for her sister. Her entire body is aching mercilessly, but the pain dulls once she's wrapped in the love of her family.

Natasha holds her close and gets onto the hospital cot with her sister, brushing a hand through her tangled hair and kissing a bandage on her forehead. "What happened?" she asks softly.

Yelena's eyes immediately well up with tears, her face twisting painfully. "I got distracted, Tasha. There was a truck. And then I- I woke up on the road, and Kate-" She screws her eyes shut, a sob building painfully in her chest. "Is Kate okay, Tasha? Is my Kate Bishop okay?"

Natasha sucks in a breath, and Yelena's heart stops for a moment. "She still hadn't woken up by the time the ambulance got you guys here, and she's in surgery now. Clint is waiting outside her room for any updates."

Yelena can feel her tongue throbbing when she sucks it in between her teeth, and she remembers the blood she spit out of her mouth. "She was bleeding so much, Tasha," she cries softly, bringing a bandaged hand up to cover her burning eyes. "I thought she was dead when I first found her. Oh my god. I could have lost her. Oh my god."

Natasha hugs her closer and tucks Yelena's head under her chin as her little sister begins to sob and hiccup into her chest, rubbing gentle circles into her shoulder and laying her cheek on golden hair.

"She's gonna be okay, Yelena. She'll be okay."

Yelena clings to her like a lifeline and wills herself to believe it as the tears soak her face.

——

Kate is officially pronounced to be in a coma two days before Yelena is discharged, and she's losing her shit. She hasn't been allowed to see her girlfriend the entire time she was still stuck in the hospital due to her own injuries, but she's able to stand up without getting too dizzy now and she's already used to the crutches needed for her sprained ankle.

The wound that she had bitten into her tongue had apparently looked and felt a lot worse than it actually was, and Yelena was already back to being able to eat soft foods, and the cut above her eye was scabbed over. Now the only real problems were the bruised ribs and burns on her palms- an annoyance more than anything, but still a major hindrance.

"Am I allowed to see her, now?" Yelena asks anxiously, cornering the doctor that had been sent to officially discharge her before he can leave.

The man sighs and scribbles a few more things down on his clipboard before checking his watch. "Once your sister is here to get a rundown of your at-home care, yes, we can take you to see Miss Bishop."

Yelena resists the urge to tear out her own hair and instead nods gratefully, her fingers pressing into her thighs through the soft pants she'd been given to wear. She'd been offered the option of a wheelchair over the crutches, seeing as her palms were still healing and the sticks were even harder to use without perfectly working hands, but that was too much for Yelena. Being in the hospital again at all was enough trauma to keep her away from people for the rest of her life, but she couldn't leave without Kate. Being confined to a chair would not do.

Natasha arrives with Clint a few minutes later, and the best friends both press kisses to Yelena's head before helping her stand up from her chair. The doctor hands Natasha several pill bottles and a thick paper packet of instructions before shaking her hand, bidding Yelena a speedy recovery, and disappearing into the hallway.

A nurse shows up just as quickly, her smile gentle. "I can take you to see your girlfriend, now, Miss Belova."

Yelena nods gratefully and follows after her with Clint and Natasha on either side, her anxiety building mercilessly in her chest with each heavy step closer to Kate's room. According to Clint, the young archer had been through three surgeries since they'd been admitted, one of which had been on her fucking brain, but all had been 100% successful and she was expected to recover without complications as long as her treatments were administered correctly.

If she woke up.

The door to Kate's room opens, and Yelena's heart drops in her chest at the sight of her girlfriend. She hurries in as fast as she can on the crutches, and ultimately just abandons them on the floor once she's close enough to the bedside chair.

"Kate Bishop," she whimpers softly, a shaking hand reaching out to rest on Kate's arm. The woman looks peaceful enough, but the bandages and wires and tubes turn her into a nightmare. Yelena can feel the tears already falling as she tries and fails to keep her eyes off the more grievous injuries.

Kate's legs are completely covered in wrappings and casts from a total knee replacement surgery and several stitches and broken bones, and her arms are littered with angry bruises and cuts that have minor bandages or some kind of ointment on them, but it's her head that has Yelena's stomach roiling.

The most damage had been done to her skull, she had been told. The whiplash from the crash itself and then hitting the pavement had splintered bone and damaged nerve endings, but the surgery on her brain had thankfully been small and didn't stretch to her spine. Either way, the archer was expected to need physical therapy in order to recover properly when it came to mental capabilities and processes, but seeing as she was still unconscious, they had no idea how extensive the psychological damage was.

"My Kate Bishop," Yelena whispers to herself, twining her fingers with Kate's and laying her head on the edge of the cot. How did this happen? How could this happen to them?

She remembers the ring box she had been carrying around with her for months now and feels a chill shoot down her spine. She already knew that all of their things had been recovered safely, including the ring, but the thought that she had been planning to propose the day of the accident was too much. There was no engagement to talk about- only the fear of a life without Kate Bishop.

Yelena's allowed to stay with her girlfriend until visiting hours are over, and her energy is so sapped that she's barely able to put up a fight before she's back in Clint's car with her sister holding her tightly as she cries. The image is burned into her brain, and it repeats over and over. Kate prone on the ground and covered in blood; Kate unconscious in a hospital bed with brain damage and a broken body.

She takes the pain medicine she's been given and passes out as soon as they get to Clint's house, the sleepy fog a welcome distraction from the hell she was in.

——

Natasha refuses to give her more medicine when she wakes up from the induced haze for the third time, which Yelena logically knows is a fair move, but she's pissed about it nonetheless. The drugs kept the nightmares away, and now with Kate Bishop gone to ward them off and in the fucking hospital, Yelena knows they'll be even worse than normal when they finally catch up to her.

Her grumpiness is temporarily dispelled when her new nephews are plopped carefully in her aching arms, however, and she cries over the two beautiful baby boys as she sinks into the couch and holds them close to her chest. Billy is asleep, his puffy baby lips parted as he smiles in his dreams, but Tommy has his wide green eyes on her with a bewildered look on his squishy face. Yelena can't help but to laugh tearfully as he grips her finger and teethes on it before staring at it in confusion.

"They're beautiful, Tasha," she chokes out, smothering both soft baby heads in kisses and cuddling the boys close.

Natasha's smile is wide, her cheeks glowing as she watches the scene adoringly. "Aren't they?"

Wanda appears from the kitchen and wraps her arms around her wife's waist, laying her cheek against Natasha's shoulder as she gazes at her baby boys and the way her sister-in-law is so gentle with them. "You'd be a good mom, Yelena."

The blonde's tears start anew, and she holds the babies closer. "Kate wants kids," she accounts, rocking her body to keep Billy asleep. He coos softly and presses his head closer to her, giving a tiny yawn while his brother continues to stare. "Fuck, Natasha, she wants kids. She wants kids, and I want kids, and I was gonna propose to her and now she's- fuck. Oh my god."

Wanda carefully takes her sons from Yelena's arms so that Natasha can sit and pull her sister into a tight hug, stroking her hair. "I know, Yelena. I know. She'll be alright. She's gonna wake up soon, and she'll get better, and then you two can get married and make babies and give Billy and Tommy some more cousins and it'll be perfect, okay?"

Yelena's laugh is wobbly and quickly turns back into hiccups, but her sister's words help. "I need to see her. Will you take me to see her?"

"Of course, Yelena. Let's get some food in you and then we can go, alright?"

Yelena nods and accepts the help to hobble to the kitchen table, where Laura is humming and making grilled cheese sandwiches. She plates one with a steaming bowl of tomato soup and puts them on the table in front of Yelena before pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head.

"Eat up, honey. Drink some water. Breathe."

Yelena melts against her and wraps Laura in an awkward side hug, missing her own mother desperately. The food is hot and delicious, but the flavor barely registers because of how anxious she is to get back to Kate.

The drive to the hospital is much too long, and Yelena has to keep her eyes closed for the majority of it due to the unexpected terror that spikes every time she sees the road rushing past them. Was she going to be too scared to drive ever again? Would she ever feel strong enough to get back behind a wheel?

As long as her Kate is okay, honestly, she couldn't care less.

Kate is looking significantly better when they get to her room, and the tears are so familiar to Yelena at this point that she doesn't even notice them streaming down her cheeks until Natasha brushes them away. The doctor gives them both an update on the archer's condition, lining out the progress her stitches and broken bones and burns are making, even saying that the physical aspects of her head injury are already mending beautifully and much faster than expected.

But she is still unconscious. And Yelena feels like she's going to snap.

She situates herself in the chair next to Kate's bed, marveling at the significant lack of certain wires and tubes that already aren't needed anymore. The bruising and swelling have gone down in several places, and Yelena can taste the salt in her mouth when she tries to give a wobbly smile as she kisses Kate's forehead.

"Hi, babydoll," she whispers, letting her lips linger on the warm skin. Kate's even breaths are hot on her cheek, and she shuts her eyes tightly, willing her girlfriend to wake up. "Please be okay. I need you to be okay."

She and Natasha stay there with Kate for several hours, her older sister getting a few energy drinks from a vending machine and taking a nap while Yelena just holds Kate's hand and talks to her softly.

"You're going to love Tommy and Billy, Kate Bishop," she whispers, stroking a thumb over Kate's wrist. "They're so squishy and cuddly. I can't wait for you to meet them."

Yelena eventually dozes off at one point, and she's thrown back awake by Natasha frantically calling for a doctor. She shoots up with a headache building around the cut on her forehead to see Kate's fingers twitching in her bandaged palm, and a rush of different emotions dumps itself into her system as her sister carefully pries her from the chair she's in so that a doctor can get to Kate.

Yelena stumbles and whips her head around in a panic, her mind whirling. "Tasha? Tasha, what-"

"She's waking up, Yelena- we need to get out of the way."

They end up in the hallway in another set of chairs once Natasha is able to retrieve Yelena's crutches from the panic of the hospital room, and she's wringing her hands for a few minutes before Natasha has had enough.

"You're gonna tear your bandages off like that," she mutters, gently taking Yelena's hands in her own and holding them away from each other. "Breathe, Yelena. They're gonna take care of her."

Yelena forces air into her lungs and blinks hard, failing to keep the tears from falling. Natasha holds her into her side, her big sister supporting her up. "I need her to be okay, Tasha," she murmurs softly, lips twisting. "I need my Kate Bishop."

"I know, Lena. Breathe. Kate's strong. She'll be annoying the shit out of us before you know it."

This gets a wobbly laugh out of the blonde, and she presses her forehead against her sister's in gratitude. "Thank you for being here with me."

"I'm never going anywhere."

"You better not. I'll kick your ass."

They wait about thirty minutes before a doctor opens the door to Kate's room and offers them a relieved smile. "We've got her stabilized and she's lookin' fine," he tells them, offering a clipboard for them to look over with information on her vitals mapped out. "She's a bit disoriented, of course, and her body has been inactive for over a week, so that combined with the beating she took is going to leave her exhausted, but she's currently awake enough to eat and talk. Feel free to go in and see her for a moment while we get some treatment plans worked out."

Natasha thanks him and helps a restless Yelena stand and hobble back into the room, where Kate is propped up against a mound of pillows with a fresh pain medication IV drip in her arm and new vital monitors hooked up to her fingers. She spots the two sisters and gives a weary smile, the bags under her eyes dark.

"Hey, Natasha," she croaks, voice rough from not being used for over a week. The sunlight from the window casts her in a honey golden glow, and Yelena doesn't think she's ever seen anything more beautiful than her Kate Bishop alive and well. (As well as she can be.)

Yelena can feel her eyes flood with tears for the millionth time, but she manages to hold them back as she pushes from her sister and hurries to Kate's bedside, cupping the archer's cheek gently and pressing a desperately soft kiss to her dry lips. "I'm so glad you're okay," she chokes out, pressing her forehead to her girlfriend's, mindful of the bandages and stitches.

Kate lets out a noise of surprise, and when Yelena leans back in confusion, something cold and terrifying slips into her heart at the look in Kate's eyes.

"Oh. Um- wow. Not that I'm gonna complain about being kissed by a beautiful woman as soon as I wake up, because, like, damn. But, uh... hi. Are... you a friend of Natasha's?"

-—

Yelena is completely silent on the drive home, her eyes dazed and unfocused and staring absently out of the window with a slack jaw. They were sent back out of the room almost as soon as the doctors realized the one problem with Kate's condition. The one mental process that had been damaged.

Memory loss.

But why only Yelena?

She doesn't hear Natasha trying to talk to her, doesn't register Laura or the dogs or her parents who arrived while they were at the hospital. She doesn't feel the arms around her shoulders, doesn't feel the scalding shower water on her broken skin, doesn't feel the drug induced fog taking her until she's already gone.

And she is desperate to stay gone.

Natasha lets her stay gone a lot longer this time.

It's a few days until she comes back around, her mother's soothing touch in her hair ringing through to her brain as Melina sits silently at her daughter's bedside. The woman gives her a tearful smile when Yelena's eyes land on her and focus, registering her mother after a moment.

"Mama."

"Hello, malaya medveditsa." Melina presses a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I am so happy you are here." Yelena knows she doesn't just mean here as in Clint's farm.

"I miss you," Yelena whispers, her lips twisting up as her brain slowly remembers more and more. Alexei appears in the doorway and sits on the other side of the bed, his weight nearly toppling it. He takes her free hand, and Yelena starts to hiccup softly.

"Papa."

Her parents just hold her.

Are you a friend of Natasha's?

——

Yelena turns down every offer to go visit Kate in the hospital, and she can feel her heart wither away more and more each time. But she can't do it. She can't. The way Kate looked at her, that light of unfamiliarity in someone's eyes when a stranger acts like they know them...

God, she kissed her, and Kate doesn't even know who she is.

Why did Kate only forget Yelena?

(Because the author said so. The author can do whatever they want. That is the beauty of fanfiction. It's okay I hate myself too.)

Each new update from Clint and Natasha kills Yelena a little more, and by the time a week has passed since Kate woke up, she's nearly screaming with how restless and lost she feels.

Kate is healing wonderfully and ahead of schedule. They've already got her started on physical and speech therapy. Her stitches can come out soon. Her blood pressure is back to normal. She can eat solid foods without assistance.

She doesn't know who Yelena is.

Her palms are finally healed enough for her to use her hands at 100%, so she starts working out in her room- pull ups on the door frame, mostly. Her ankle still has a boot on it, which means no runs yet.

It makes her want to die.

The day that Kate is scheduled to be discharged, Yelena finds herself stealing Natasha's car and driving so far out into the countryside that her ass is numb and not a single speck of civilization can be found. The boot and nervousness can only stop her so much.

She has several missed calls from her sister, but doesn't bother to return them until she's sure that the location for her phone is turned off.

"Where the hell are you?"

Yelena frowns slightly at the harshness in her sister's tone, but she knows it's deserved. "Out."

"Where, Yelena."

"I don't know, actually. Somewhere. Far."

"Jesus Christ, Yelena. You scared the shit out of us."

Yelena is silent for a moment, but then she forces the words out. "How's Kate?"

It's Natasha's turn to be quiet. "She's good. She's back at the house now. She... she keeps asking about you."

The breath feels like it's been punched from Yelena's body. "She what?"

"Well, it's probably nagging at her that a woman she doesn't recognize kissed her and then never came to see her again."

"That's not fair, Tasha," Yelena whispers.

"No, I know it's not. I'm sorry. It's just... do you know what you want to do about it?"

"What's there to do, Tasha? The love of my life doesn't know who I am. Sounds simple enough."

"You're not gonna try to help her remember?"

"The way I see it, she needs to be able to focus on getting better without some stranger claiming she's her girlfriend and causing her even more problems. She wouldn't-" Yelena stops and sucks in a breath as she leans her head on the car, eyes blurring with tears. "It's my fault, Tasha. It's my fault she almost died."

"Yelena."

"I don't care if that's stupid and childish. I want to stay away from her, okay? Please. I can't do this. I can't stand for her to look at me and not know who I am."

"But what if there's a chance for her to remember?" Natasha says weakly. "What about the ring, Yelena?"

Yelena hangs up, tosses her phone into the car, and slides down into the grass to curl in on herself and let the sobs fall from her mouth.

Fuck the ring.

Fuck everything.

——

Yelena returns to the farm only to drop off Natasha's car and pack her bag, throwing the duffel over her shoulder and heading back down the stairs towards the front door as quietly as she can. She's nearly there when a voice sounds from the couch in the main room, and her blood chills.

"You're Natasha's sister, right?"

Yelena's head turns slowly to see Kate Bishop laid across the couch, her legs and back both propped up on pillows with a blanket over her lap and a compression bandage around her forehead. Her heart is trying to decide between beating an extra million times per minute or just stopping entirely.

"What?" she chokes out, something hot and uncomfortable already building in her chest.

"Are you Natasha's sister?" Kate sits up a little more, the action making her wince. Yelena is moving towards her to help her before she can stop herself, but Kate accepts the offered hand with a look of appreciation. There's a fucking tingle when their skin touches.

"Yes, I am," Yelena says roughly, taking a rushed step back. There must be something concerning in her eyes, because Kate's brow furrows softly.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Her voice is stiff. The blood is pounding too loudly in her ears, and the backs of her eyes are burning so hot she can barely see. "I'm glad you're alright, Kate." Yelena turns quickly and hurries for the door, but Kate's voice stops her again.

"This is yours, Yelena. Natasha found it in between the couch cushions when she was setting it up for me and asked if I could give it to you when you got back."

Shit.

"Yelena?"

She doesn't have to turn back around to know that Kate is holding the ring box in the very hand that was originally supposed to wear the jewel in the first place.

"Ask Natasha to hold onto it for me, will you?" Yelena says roughly, putting her hand on the doorknob.

"I know you, don't I?"

Yelena slumps forward and leans her head on the door heavily, the sobs already threatening to break loose. I can't do this. "Did Tasha tell you something?"

"Nobody has told me anything. It's driving me fucking crazy." Kate's voice is low and agitated. "They said I have memory loss, but they won't tell me what I've forgotten. Only details from the crash I was in. But you're on my lock screen and there's a Polaroid of us in the back of my phone."

Yelena can feel herself start to hyperventilate, but she clamps down on it and forces her chest to stay still.

"Were you in the crash, too? Is that what happened to your foot?"

She's getting dizzy.

"Who are you to me, Yelena?"

The edges of her vision are going dark.

"Yelena?"

She shoves down on the door handle and lurches forward out of the house, barely managing to get past the threshold before stumbling and crashing down onto the porch as her eyes roll back and her chest screams at her to breathe. But she can't. She can't breathe. Everything is too tight and too hot and she can't breathe she can't breathe she can't breathe she can't-

——

Yelena's head is foggy from the remnants of a nightmare, but a face appears in the blur of her vision and looms over her.

"I can't tell who you are," she croaks, "but if you don't get out of my face, I'm going to punch you."

Natasha's chuckle sounds forced as she leans back. "Fair enough."

"Jesus Christ. What happened this time?"

"You passed out on the porch. Kate said she thinks you were having a panic attack."

Fuck.

"I can't do this, Tasha. I can't do this."

"She wants to see you."

"I can't." Yelena's eyes well up and she presses her fists into them, mouth twisting painfully as a broken wail splits her throat. "I can't do this. I barely made it through her getting to know me the first time, Tasha. I can't do it again. I can't tell her about all the people I've killed again. I can't watch her face when she finds out how much blood I've spilt. I can't do it."

"Yelena-"

"I don't deserve her, Natasha!"

Her sister is quiet, a firm hand resting on her shoulder and squeezing. Yelena's body rocks with hiccups, and the despair in her blood is thick.

"How long have you been having worries about your relationship with Kate, Yelena?" Natasha asks softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from her baby sister's face.

Yelena doesn't respond for a few minutes as she tries to get her breathing back under control, and Natasha helps her sit up before getting her a glass of water and some of her non-drowsy pain medication.

"A while, I guess," she mutters lowly, staring sorrowfully down into the cup as she clasps it between her palms. The cold glass is soothing on her palms, which may be fully healed but are still easily aggravated. "Like I'm not enough for her. She needs more. I can't give her more."

"And you still wanted to propose?"

"I thought that maybe it would fix me."

Natasha pulls Yelena into her chest and holds her tight, kissing her hair.

"I thought that maybe if we got married, I wouldn't be scared anymore. It would be cemented, her and me. She wouldn't say yes if she wasn't sure, right?" Yelena whispers, tears pooling and dripping onto Natasha's sweater.

"But should you propose in the first place if you're not 100% sure about it yourself?" Natasha tucks away another strand of hair, cupping her sister's cheek.

"But I- I am sure, Tasha. I want Kate Bishop forever. Just my Kate Bishop. She's all I need."

"What makes you think she doesn't feel the same way about you, Yelena?"

"Because I-" She stops, bottom lip quivering as her shoulders shake. "I'm a mess. I'm broken, Tasha," she whispers, eyes blurry. "She deserves someone who isn't broken."

Natasha tuts and cups Yelena's face with both hands, leveling their stares. "Yelena. Honey. We're all a little broken." She kisses the healing cut on her forehead. "Kate loves you. Even now. I can see it. Wanda can see it. Clint and Laura and the kids and the twins and the dogs can see it." Yelena hiccups a small laugh. "She may not remember the face, but she sure as hell remembers the feeling. She sees you and instinctively feels love."

"Do you really think so?" Yelena whispers after a moment, sniffing softly.

Natasha's smile is sad but assuring. "I do. She just needs to be given a chance to remember."

"What if she's different? What if she has an out and doesn't want me? What if she hates me, Natasha?"

"Then we learn and adapt- and I don't think that'll happen." Her sister leans their foreheads together, muttering soothingly. "It's gonna be okay. I'll be here no matter what happens, you know that."

They stay that way for a moment until the door opens and Wanda appears with Billy asleep in her arms, smiling softly at the two sisters. Natasha seems to glow when she spots her wife, and she stands to hug the woman and kiss both her and her son. "Hi, detka."

Wanda hums and kisses Nat softly, then takes her spot on the bed next to Yelena. "I thought a good baby cuddle might help you feel better."

"You know me so well," Yelena jokes softly, holding her arms out for the baby. Billy is placed gently into them, and she cradles him close, pressing her lips to his soft head and inhaling his baby smell. "Fresh baby," she whispers with a grin, looking at him adoringly.

Natasha cackles and her wife scowls good-naturedly, slapping her arm. "That's exactly what I said when I saw them for the first time!"

"I was exhausted, and she went straight for the boys first, only to fucking say fresh baby," Wanda gripes, but her eyes are soft and she loops an arm around Natasha's waist.

Yelena smiles and laughs softly, bouncing the baby gently as he shifts and yawns, his eyes fortunately staying closed. "Hello, tiny boy," she whispers to him, stroking a knuckle over his soft hair and squishy cheeks. "You are so precious."

"Kate is holding Tommy right now, if you want to go see her?" Wanda offers carefully, Natasha squeezing her hip.

Yelena pauses and looks up at them, brow furrowed.

"She has a really high chance of gaining all of her memory back if she's able to interact with what she's forgotten, Yelena," Natasha says gently, leaning her cheek against her wife's head.

The blonde sucks at her lip anxiously, glancing back down to the sleeping baby in her arms. He gives another big yawn and stretches his pudgy fingers out, eyes cracking open to look up at her. "What do you think, Billy Boy Baby?" Yelena whispers, tapping his nose softly. "Should we go visit Kate Bishop and your brother?"

He smiles sleepily before yawning again and snuggling back into her arms.

"I guess that's a yes," Yelena murmurs. She looks back up at Wanda and Natasha, eyes stinging. "I don't know if I can do it. I'm scared, Tasha. What if I can't do it?"

Her sister moves back towards her and hugs Yelena's shoulders. "You're one of the strongest people I know, Yelena. Give yourself a chance, okay?"

"...Okay."

Kate is sitting up on the couch with the footrest up and Tommy perched happily in her lap when Yelena appears in the main room, Wanda and Natasha right behind her. She's not allowed to walk and hold Billy at the same time due to her boot, but once she's sat down in a chair next to the couch, they place the baby back in her arms. Kate watches her closely the whole time, absentmindedly patting Tommy's back.

Yelena waits until the two other women have left the room before glancing up and meeting Kate's gaze, heart pounding against her ribs. "Hi, Kate Bishop."

The archer's smile is beaming, recognition shining in her eyes. "Hi, Yelena."

——

By the time Kate's knee is healed up enough for her to use a cane instead of a walker, she and Yelena have gone back to spending almost every waking moment together. More and more pieces of her memory come back every day the more they talk, and everyone else can see Kate falling in love with Yelena all over again.

And she's not shy about it, either. The first thing that she's filled in on is the timeline of their relationship, spanning from when they first met at a surprise party Natasha was throwing for Clint, to when they started dating, their first kiss, their first time together, the adventures they'd been on, all the way up to the car crash.

With all of this in mind, Kate figures there's no reason for her to hold back when she starts regaining memories and therefore feelings. She notices how beautiful Yelena's smile is, so she tells her. She remembers the way her face looks when she comes, and doesn't even hesitate before letting Yelena know that it's one of the hottest things she's ever seen.

"Can I kiss you?" Kate asks one evening, staring up at Yelena from where her head is resting in the blonde's lap. Yelena's hands go still, the tv screen blaring red when her character dies, but she's unbothered.

"What?" She glances down at Kate, whose head bandages are already gone.

"Can I kiss you?" she repeats, smiling wide. She reaches a hand up to cup Yelena's face, which is already red. Another thing she had gotten to learn about her girlfriend again- Yelena appeared so stoic, but when Kate flirted even a little bit, she blushed like a fucking tomato.

"Are you sure?" Yelena frowns and brushes a hand through Kate's hair, and the woman purrs happily, her eyes closing with content. Good lord, she was adorable. "You don't have to. I'm not rushing either of us. We have all the time in the world now, detka."

Kate smiles lazily and looks back up at her girlfriend- god, that word sounded so good- and gives a soft nod. "I'm sure. Yes. Please."

Yelena's breath hitches, and she puts the controller that she's still holding down to stroke a knuckle over Kate's cheek. "You're sure-sure?" she whispers, eyes hooded as they dart to Kate's lips. She would be lying, of course, if she said she hadn't wanted to kiss the archer breathless from the moment she'd come out of her coma, but after kissing Kate before realizing the woman didn't recognize her, she had stayed away from the topic out of shame.

Kate's own breath catches at the look on Yelena's face, and she grabs the hand that Yelena has on her face softly, closing her eyes and pressing her lips against the calloused palm. "I'm sure-sure."

Yelena can feel her heart thudding against her ribs, and she feels like a teenager again, spotting Kate for the first time through a crowd of people she wished she could avoid. "Okay," she whispers, shifting and cupping Kate's face gently.

"Okay?" The archer smiles almost shyly, lashes fluttering.

"Okay." Yelena leans down and presses her lips to Kate's ever so softly, breathing the archer in and feeling herself already getting high on the scent of flannel and pine.

She breaks off, and Kate stares at her, starstruck. "Wow," she mumbles, lips parted.

Yelena laughs softly, her cheeks burning. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Kate leans up and captures Yelena's mouth in hers again, cupping the back of her head and kissing her hard. The blonde groans and wraps her arms around the archer, pressing them both carefully into the couch.

Yelena hisses a sigh and opens her mouth a little wider when Kate bites softly at her bottom lip, and the woman's tongue licks past them heatedly.

Jesus Christ, she had missed this.

Yelena tangles her hand into Kate's dark hair and tugs at it softly, earning a soft gasp from her before the blonde moves down her neck, trailing her lips along the strong jawline and nipping at her pulse.

"I love you, Kate Bishop," she growls softly, sucking a bruise into the soft skin under the archer's ear and soothing over it with her tongue. Kate pants breathlessly into her ear, and holy shit Yelena is turned on.

"Maybe wait to bang it out until Kate is fully healed?"

And just like that, the spell is broken, and Yelena promptly falls off of the couch. Classic.

"Наташа, клянусь Богом, я надеру тебе задницу!" she yells at her sister as she sits up, her cheeks burning furiously. Kate's face is just as red as hers, but there's a mischievous light in her eyes that lights Yelena's stomach on fire.

Natasha cackles so hard that she doubles over with her arms around her stomach, wiping tears from her eyes. Yelena is fuming. Kate is blushing. No one is being productive.

"Sorry, sorry- I had to." Natasha pauses, her grin wicked. "Actually, no, I'm not sorry. You two are both so fucking horny for each other and it's just the funniest thing ever. I can't with y'all."

Yelena can only gape at her sister, who shrugs and heads up the stairs. "Wanda is taking a nap, so keep it quiet, will you?"

She swears colorfully under her breath and huffs, but her blood feels like lightning zaps through it when Kate's hand reaches over and cups her chin, her head twisted to face the archer.

"Don't pout, poor girl. Are you really horny for me?"

Yelena's face goes supernova.

Fuck you, Natasha.

"Fuck you, Kate Bishop," she says out loud.

Her girlfriend's smile is sly. "Literally, I hope?"

"Kate!"

The archer cackles and slumps back on the couch, holding her aching stomach. "You're too cute, baby."

Yelena only grumbles, scowling as she tries to decide if tickling Kate and possibly reopening any injuries would be worth it. Kate sees her face and stops abruptly, pointing.

"Yelena Belova, you are not allowed to tickle me," she warns, raising a brow.

Yelena narrows her eyes and leans into her girlfriend's face, somehow gaining the bravado to smirk in a way she knew always got Kate going. "How about we get married and I show you just how hard I can tickle you, Kate Bishop?"

Kate squints, the tips of her ears red. "I can't tell if you're proposing or threatening me with a good time."

The blonde shrugs. "Why not both?"

Her girlfriend smiles brightly, her eyes wide. "Are you seriously fucking proposing to me right now, Yelena Belova?"

"Maybe?"

Kate hums roughly and leans forward to kiss her hard, pressing her palm to the back of Yelena's head to hold her closer. "You must really like me, Miss Belova," she whispers in between breaths, "to propose- after kissing me only once- since I even remembered who you are."

Yelena smiles into Kate's lips and slowly maneuvers to stand up while still kissing her, moving forward to straddle the archer's lap. Kate lets out a soft noise, and Yelena silences it, tracing her tongue along the archer's soft bottom lip and tugging it between her teeth.

"Are you guys serious right now?"

Yelena just kisses Kate harder and takes a first of dark hair, swallowing every noise and moan her girlfriend makes while flipping Natasha off from where her sister had appeared at the top of the stairs. The redhead just groans and turns right back around, muttering under her breath. "I just wanted a fucking sandwich."

Yelena huffs a laugh and breaks off from Kate for a small moment, both of them breathing hard with flushed cheeks and warm stomachs. "Yes, Kate Bishop. I like you. Quite a bit, actually, I hope you've noticed."

Kate can only nod, her eyes wide and a little unfocused. She is the poster child of freshly kissed.

Yelena grins and kisses her cheek softly, whispering against the soft skin. "Will you marry me, Kate Bishop?"

#bishova #katelena #fanfiction #oneshot #Angstshot #angst #Wandanat #Billy and Tommy #Kate bishop #Yelena belova #car crash #Wanda Maximoff #Natasha Romanoff

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acourtofkindness · 2 days

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Thank you for sending in all the stories, here you can find the collection! Some of these are one-shots, some are longer stories, just click your way through them and also check out their other fics!

Five Minutes to Midnight

by @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship What if the bond snapped for Feyre when it did for Rhys? How will their journey change when they are more open and honest about things with each other.

become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognize anywhere)

by @belaBellissima “I hate you,” she said, voice breaking halfway through. The word felt so little compared to what she truly felt, the mix of hopelessness and grief and loss and fury, betrayal and desire for revenge. But it didn’t matter that the words wouldn’t come, because the feelings did. And Feyre shoved them at him, glad to see Rhysand bodily recoil, stumbling over his own feet as he tried to get away. Good. Or: The author asking how angsty can I make a canon verse amnesia!au? pretty damn angsty.

Foolish Fire

@DreamlandReader (ao3) Since the birth of their son, Feyre and Rhysand have been living in a comfortable bubble of domestic bliss, but when a freshly mated Elain ropes them into a family camping trip for Lucien's birthday, they must try to embrace adventure once again. The Erebus forest is, however, not as safe as it seems, and when Feyre and Rhys become separated from the rest of the group, they soon find that the tales of dangerous monsters prowling the woods are more than mere stories. In fact, around every corner are devious creatures and tricky beasts, just waiting for them to make a mistake.

I Knew You Were Trouble

by @rosanna-writer Every hunter had a story about the Goatman, tales whispered around campfires of a strange creature with the body of a man and the hooves and horns of a goat, the reason animals were sometimes found shredded to pieces and for the warnings to be back from the woods before dark. Black fur, they said, dark as a moonless night, and strange, otherworldly violet eyes. Feyre Archeron believed it was all a crock of shit.

Red Earth & Pouring Rain

by @separatist-apologist When Feyre's father tries to set her up with one of his high society friends' sons, Feyre does the only thing that makes sense in the moment: she fakes a Scottish fiánce. Writing him letters detailing her escapades, Feyre never expects anyone to read them. But when a mysterious uncle leaves her and her sisters three scattered castles, Feyre's forgotten fiánce appears on her doorstep, determined to make an honest woman of her yet.

Paint Again

by @reverie-tales Set in a modern alternate universe, Feyre is struggling to paint because of her grief. That is, until she receives an unexpected email that reawakens her love of painting.

Love at First Sight's For Suckers

by @rosanna-writer Rhysand had a reputation. A big reputation. But fortunately for Feyre, a newsie selling papers on the streets of Velaris, tabloid gossip about the handsome, charismatic, hard-partying war-hero of a High Lord's heir means business is booming. That is, until the city's newspaper magnates get greedy, Feyre finds herself an unwitting labor leader at the center of a strike, and Rhys becomes an unexpected ally...

Good Luck Charm

by @sweetvillaindarlinggod Feyre finds out Tamlin is cheating on her, and decides the president of his fraternity, who they both hate, is the perfect way to get revenge. Unfortunately, she's not exactly prepared for what she's signed up for.

Hate Me Instead

by @popjunkie42 Rhysand and Feyre both struggle with her first visit to the Night Court in this alternative version to early events in ACOMAF. What if Rhysand had stuck around for more for lessons and both of them were making rather poor decisions? From Rhys's POV.

Starry Eyes Sparking Up My Darkest Night

by @itsthedoodle We had danced, all of us together. And when the night had shifted toward dawn and the music became soft and honeyed, I had let Rhys take me in his arms and dance with me, slowly, until the other guests had left, until the gold disc of the sun gilded Velaris.

Bejeweled

@thesistersarcheron Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him. He doesn’t expect to find Feyre, a faerie made of crystal who leads him on a chase deeper and deeper into the mines as the Rite’s magic overcomes him.

we will be everything we say

by @tunaababee The gang is back together for Cassian's birthday, Rhys seeing Feyre for the first time in a little while. Things don't quite go as smoothly as anyone hopes.

The Little Tiger

by @witch-and-her-witcher Nyx runs away from home. There's a misunderstanding between mother and son.

As the River Flows

by @the-lonelybarricade "As Feyre lamented quietly over the misfortune of her life, there, in the marketplace, she heard a merchant instruct to its patron: Place a butterfly wing under your tongue before you sleep, and you will dream of your true love." Maybe my favourite Feysand fic!! Miscommunication that makes me want to scream. A+ Feyre and Rhys characterization. And a deep, deep love under it all with a backstory that makes me sees stars.

Blossoming in Winter

by @popjunkie42 Five hundred years before Amarantha’s reign Under the Mountain, Prythian and the Continent were thrust into a brutal war to abolish human slave lands and the threat of the King of Hybern. Tamlin, third son of the High Lord of Spring, has rebelled against his father to fight on behalf of the human-faerie alliance. A fae archer in his personal guard, Feyre Archeron, makes a foolhardy decision at great personal cost that changes the tide of the entire war. Rescued from torture at the hands of General Amarantha, Prince Rhysand has been sent to High Lord Thesan’s Hall of Healing in the Dawn Court. Frustrated, immobile and in disgrace with his father, Rhysand meets a fellow patient in healing who helps him see the days ahead, beyond the brutality of war. But can he make her see that future for herself?

A Court of Thorns and Roses AU set during the first Hybern war, inspired by the story of Faramir and Eowyn in Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkien.

Lavender Skies

by @reverie-tales Rhysand is alone in his study in the House of Wind, recollecting Feyre's visit to the Weaver's cottage. He discovers that his mother's ring might not be the only thing Feyre has recovered.

Of The Archer And The Dark

by @thesistersarcheron She is his mate, his mate, his mate. Feyre Archeron is the youngest member of the Fae nobility trapped in Amarantha’s court Under the Mountain, and she’s never known anything else; nineteen years ago, she was the last of three sisters born in the dark prison. She has never seen the stars, tasted fruit fresh from the vine, or set foot in her home court. Now, dragged before the High Queen of Prythian in her father’s last-bid attempt to settle his debts by selling his daughters’ hands in marriage, Feyre faces scrutiny from all sides: the wicked queen herself, who takes a particular interest in securing an advantageous match for her; the leaders of the rebellion against Amarantha, who already paid the bloody price of failure once; and the cruel High Lord of the Night Court, who seems to enjoy nothing more than dismantling the defenses Feyre has spent years building against monsters like him.

Finding Bryaxis

by @reverie-tales Rhys and Feyre go and search for Bryaxis. Post A Court of Wings and Ruin. Imagine ACOFAS and ACOSF didn't happen.

Traitors Never Win

by @separatist-apologist When Feyre Archeron's father promises she'll marry notorious crime boss Rhysand Moreno, Feyre will do anything to get out of the arrangement...including framing him for murder. Rhysand isn't about to let her go so easily.

High Tide Came And Brought You In

by @separatist-apologist Desperate to escape her impending marriage, Feyre throws herself from a cliffside. Anything is better than what's waiting for her.

Even the monster hiding in the waves.

Nyx's less traumatic arrival into the world

by @shallyne Feyre wakes Rhys up in the middle of the night when contractions start...

Always Lonely, Never Alone

by @shallyne Feyre lives a a lonely life in the clutches of an unhappy marriage. When she meets an old friend, she realizes that she was never alone.

Bejeweled

by @thesistersarcheron Every court has their own Great Rite with unique, ancient traditions. The Night Court’s priestesses have played coy with Rhysand since he inherited the throne last year about what imbuing the land with his power really means; all they tell him is that he is meant to spend the night in the Night Court’s mines dripping in ceremonial jewels while everyone else gets to attend the orgy without him. He doesn’t expect to find Feyre, a faerie made of crystal who leads him on a chase deeper and deeper into the mines as the Rite’s magic overcomes him.

we said hello and your eyes look like coming home

by @rosanna-writer A canon-divergent AU where the bond snaps for Rhys on Calanmai, Feyre unwittingly accepts it, and Fire Night magic proves to be more transformative than anyone bargained for. Feyre drags a mate she hardly knows out from Under the Mountain, then puts him back together as war with Hybern approaches.

#feysand recommendation #feyre x rhysand #feysand #acosf #acotar #acourtofkindness

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drabbles-mc · 20 hours

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Even if You Don't

Benny Cross x Johnny Davis

Warnings: 18+, pining, angsty feels

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: went and saw The Bikeriders and immediately became unwell about it. won't be normal about them for a long time, i think.

Johnny’s first mistake was thinking that it would mean anything to him.

That was half the reason he fell for Benny in the first place. Before he even realized that he fell for him, he saw the way that Benny never seemed to bat an eye at anything and immediately Johnny knew that he wanted, needed, to keep him close by. Everything that they’d gone through, everything they’d done for the club, it never seemed to break the skin. Not Benny’s. Other guys, yeah, but not Benny. Never Benny.

His real mistake was thinking that he would be the one thing that would get underneath Benny’s skin. He wanted to. More than almost anything else he wanted to be the thing that put a crack in Benny’s armor, the thing that protected him more than the denim and patch on his back. But he wasn’t, even though he tried.

“It’s yours,” Johnny said, standing so close to Benny that Benny could feel his breath fanning across his skin. “Just…think about it.”

Benny didn’t look at him. Johnny’s lips were practically brushing against the impossibly smooth skin of Benny’s cheek and it was like he didn’t even notice. Johnny felt like his breath was catching in the back of his throat and he didn’t want to think that he was alone in that.

Maybe, he thought, his first mistake wasn’t thinking that it would matter to Benny. Maybe his first mistake was saying something other than what he really meant. If Johnny had plucked up the courage to say what he was really feeling, maybe then it would’ve mattered to Benny. The truth, laid out bare and vulnerable the way it should’ve been, might have gotten Benny to at least meet his eyeline.

It shouldn’t have been any harder to say, really. The truth in its totality was no longer of an explanation than the sliver of it that he’d offered to Benny in that moment. But he just couldn’t do it. Johnny could take a lot of beatings and still come out on top, keep getting back up again. He could wipe out on his bike and not hesitate to throw his leg back over it again once he got it upright. He could take all of that and then some with almost no complaints. But he knew he couldn’t take the toll of telling Benny everything and still having him walk away.

Kathy’s words rattled relentless around his skull. It was easier to blame his hesitancy on her so that was exactly what he did. It was her, not his own cowardice, that made him flake in the moment when it mattered most. He held his tongue and watched Benny hobble away on his crutch, not even sparing Johnny a backwards glance as he did. He wanted him, even if he couldn’t have him.

Benny never brought it up again. Johnny had to fight the urge every day to ask him about it. If the two of them hadn’t been men of such few words, he never would’ve been able to stop himself. He should’ve just been honest from the start. It’d make for one less weight on his shoulders. Late at night when he was laying in bed staring up at the ceiling, Johnny could swear that he felt the warmth radiating off Benny’s cheek still lingering on his skin. They’d been so close.

It was the middle of the night when Johnny tried to tell him again. The two of them cloaked in darkness, just like last time. Only this time their privacy wasn’t secured by an empty field, but by the close confines of Johnny’s car. They were still so close, and Benny still wasn’t looking at him.

“I can’t run this on my own anymore,” Johnny said. Not a lie but still not the full truth.

Benny wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were locked on the windshield, or rather on the street in front of them. Johnny was no mind-reader but he was still willing to bet that Benny was probably thinking about how quickly and easily he could get out of the car and make his way back over to his bike. Johnny couldn’t let him slip away without saying what he needed to. Not again.

“This club…it needs someone like you.” He was kicking himself for each word as it came out but he didn’t stop. “Not even someone like you,” he said as he shook his head. “It needs you. You.”

Benny raised his eyebrows slightly and Johnny thought that maybe they were getting somewhere. He was thinking that maybe Benny would turn and look at him and he’d see it all in Johnny’s eyes so he wouldn’t have to say it all out loud. Benny would just know what to do because Benny always knew what to do. Then Benny’s gaze just dropped to his own hands instead.

Johnny rested his hand on the console between them. He drew in a deep breath as slowly and quietly as he could, not wanting to give himself away although he briefly considered the fact that it was already too late for that. His hand clenched into a fist, grip tighter than it’d ever been wrapped around a handlebar, blunt nails digging into the meat of his palm.

He was able to look at Benny all the way up until the moment he started to speak again. Right as the first word started to tumble out, he stared at his clenched fist with more intensity than Benny was staring at his hands. If he looked at his hand, he wouldn’t be able to see the reaction or lack thereof on Benny’s face as he said, “I need you.”

The pause was agonizing. Silence hadn’t ever caused Johnny’s ears to ring quite so loudly before. His hand started to tremble as it stayed clenched on the console. He didn’t know what he was expecting. But he wanted it to be something. There wasn’t even the click of the door handle to let him know that Benny was walking away all over again.

Johnny’s voice had a bare hint of a tremor to it when he spoke up again, most of it disguised underneath the usual rasp. “I can’t do this without you.”

Benny shrugged, looking at Johnny’s clenched fist. “You’ve been runnin’ the club fine so far.”

Despite the passive nature of Benny’s words, they still breathed confidence into Johnny that had been slipping away in the silent moments before. He found it in himself to look at Benny even if he wasn’t going to return the favor. “I don’t mean the club. I can’t…” he trailed off for a moment, forcing his hand to open, palm flattening against the console again. “Club’s yours if you want it. I’m yours even if you don’t.”

That was what did it. Benny’s eyes flicked up from the console. He kept his expression trained, neutral the way that it so often. But the unwavering eye contact that he was finally giving said more than a blush or a frown or a smile ever would have. Johnny felt the air get stuck in the back of his throat again, felt the flashback of warmth from Benny’s skin despite the distance between them.

Slowly, almost methodically, Benny brought his hand up. He dragged the pads of his fingertips across his lips, like the action was coaching him into whatever his next move was going to be. Johnny couldn’t take his eyes off of Benny’s, but even so he was painstakingly aware of the fall of Benny’s hand. It didn’t land on top of Johnny’s. He didn’t get the reward of the warmth of Benny’s palm coating the back of his hand the way he desperately yearned for. But Benny’s hand did land in such a way that the tips of his fingers hooked against his. A ghost of a touch but somehow still more than Johnny felt like he’d ever gotten from him before.

It was always Johnny, really. Johnny’s hand out in an offer of help from the ground after a fight. Johnny’s arm tucked against Benny’s back helping him limp away after wiping out of his bike. Johnny’s hand firm against his chest pulling him back before Benny took things a few hits too far. It was always Johnny. Reaching. Starting. Hoping.

Now he could feel the pull of Benny’s fingers against his own. Touch that he didn’t initiate. Touch that Benny wasn’t pulling away from but rather leaning into. Johnny didn’t know when Benny’s face got so close to his, the two of them drawing closer and closer like a pair of magnets. Always pulling despite it all. There was no barrier this time, no safety net of Johnny’s lips beside Benny’s cheek, breath against his jawline. He couldn’t hide. Benny wasn’t letting him.

“Think about it,” Johnny said, repeating his words from before. He wondered if Benny would see it now, the way that it’d always been about this. Or maybe he always knew. Maybe he just wanted Johnny to say it so he knew he meant it.

Benny’s lips brushed against his in a way that somehow managed to be soft but still knock the wind out of him in a way that a landed punch never had. Soft in a way that Johnny hadn’t felt deserving of for longer than he could remember.

Then he was gone again. Hands in his lap, leaning back in the passenger seat like none of it had even happened. Eyes fixed forward once more while Johnny was still fighting the urge to lunge across the console to finish what they were finally starting.

Benny didn’t care about anything until he did, and even then he didn’t show it. Johnny reminded himself of that as he felt the chilly air winding its way between his fingers where Benny’s had previously been. He fixed himself so that he was properly back in the driver’s seat. There was a slight frown tugging at his lips as he tried to think about anything other than the rapid beat of his heart. Meanwhile Benny looked like he was thinking about his next cigarette.

Johnny’s tongue darted out along his bottom lip, gathering up the last traces of Benny he’d have for now, or for good if the cards didn’t fall just right. It wasn’t until he saw Benny mirror the same action, the fleeting but pensive look on his face as he did so, that Johnny allowed himself to entertain the thought that maybe Benny wasn’t as impenetrable as he’d originally thought. Benny who never batted an eye, Benny who acted first and thought about it later, Benny who didn’t bother asking questions. Benny who never flinched when it came to the club. That was the Benny that Johnny knew.

But now this wasn’t about the club anymore. He watched Benny, for the first time in a long time, think before making his next move. Then Johnny watched Benny reach for the handle of the door and he just hoped that he wasn’t making another mistake. The tightness in his chest was soothed only by the look Benny cast back over his shoulder at him as he walked to his bike. A ghost of a smirk on his face.

Bikeriders Taglist: currently nonexistent because i just saw the movie and started writing for it today 😂 benny and johnny will be living in my head rent free for the foreseeable future though so if you wanna get tagged please let me know! xo

#the bikeriders #the bikeriders 2024 #the bikeriders fanfiction #benny cross #benny cross fanfiction #johnny davis #johnny davis fanfiction #benny cross x johnny davis #johnny davis x benny cross #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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canonizzyhours · 1 day

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One argument that comes up repeatedly from fanon izzy guys is that the "izzy antis" are just Ed stans who want to claim Ed has never done anything wrong, so they will do whatever it takes to justify Ed being violent to people who hurt him. It's kind of a "you can't be mad at us for woobifying Izzy, you're just woobifying Ed" argument.

If it was the case that "gentlebeardies (derogatory)" were just casting anyone who is mean to Ed as the villain, then you'd expect there to have been a lot more outrage towards Jim, Archie, Frenchie, and Fang for the whole thing where they BEAT ED TO DEATH. Like - anger about how they never apologized, angsty fic about how Ed gets his revenge on them, etc etc. But there's just not? I feel like the general consensus on the crew killing Ed has been 1) well yeah Ed did pretty much force their hands, 2) it must have been super traumatizing for them to kill their friend and then live with the aftermath of that, and 3) let's write fic about Ed and the crew slowly rebuilding their trust in each other ❤️ Which is great! I do not want people to hate the crew for what they did to Ed. That would be weird and uncomfortable.

There's a REASON that Izzy and Izzy alone gets the "he had it coming" response to his misfortune, and it's not because he was mean to uwu babygirl Ed or whatever, it's because a bunch of people recognized Izzy's pattern of controlling behavior towards Ed as abusive, and Ed's response as reactive violence triggered by years of abuse. Sure, the crew physically hurt Ed more than Izzy ever did, but it's not about individual acts of violence it's about patterns of behavior.

#418.

#ofmd #izzy hands #edward teach #fandom critical #jim jimenez #archie #frenchie #fang #canonizzyhours

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pickingupmymercedes · 4 hours

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“why do you always do this to yourself? i don’t fucking get it..”

please bless us with some angsty vibes 🤭 i am a sucker for a happy ending though, if you decide to choose peace. congrats again on 500!

Thank youu for always supporting my writings, really it means a lot ❤️

Hope you like this one, there's a special "what if" on the happier side on this one

“why do you always do this to yourself? i don’t fucking get it..”

They'd fallen into a pattern, one Y/N hated and loved in equal measure. They'd bicker, flirt, share stolen moments, then Lewis would crack a joke, a little too personal, a little too revealing about how well he saw through her walls. And just like that, Y/N would panic, holding up her own shield to hide the vulnerability threatening to crack through.

"Beautiful view," she said, voice strained as she stared out the window of Lewis' Monaco apartment, the cityscape a glittering blur underneath them. The silence in the room felt deafening, pressing down on her like a physical weight. He'd ordered dinner, a simple pasta dish that smelled incredible, but neither of them had made it past the first bite.

"Yeah," Lewis muttered from behind her turned back. His breathing too close for comfort. "It is."

She took a deep breath. "You did great out there today." It felt almost a betrayal, this small offering of praise, knowing she'd tear it down soon enough.

"Thanks," he replied reaching for her waist "So did you, with all those interviews." He knew her job with the F1 channel was stressful, the constant travel exhausting, but it was another way she kept him at arm's length.

Y/N forced a laugh. "Just doing my job, keeping the fans happy."

He turned her around, his gaze holding onto hers. "Y/N," he started, his voice low, "why do you always do this to yourself? I don't fucking get it..."

Tears pricked at her eyes. "Do what?" she choked out surprised once again at how easy Lewis could read her.

"This dance," he said, his frustration clear. "We open up, we connect, then you run. Like a damn scared rabbit."

"I'm not scared," she lied, hating the tremor in her voice.

"No?" he challenged, his eyes flickering across her face. "Then why can't you let yourself have this, Y/N? Why can't you let me in?"

The vulnerability in his voice, so raw and unexpected, ripped the carefully constructed wall from around her heart. "Because..." she started, her voice barely a whisper, "because it never works out for me, Lewis."

"So, you just give up before you even try?" The anger in his voice was laced with a deep sadness that mirrored her own.

She looked away, the city lights blurring into a wash of tears. "Maybe because I know it won't work," she countered, her voice cracking with unshed tears. "Maybe because you're a shooting star, Lewis, and I'm just a… caught in your orbit for a couple stolen moments."

He turned her face, his grip surprisingly gentle but his gaze unwavering. “We take things one day at a time if need be. But if you want me to walk away, you're gonna have to be damn clear about it. Because if there's even a chance of this working, I'm not giving up without a fight."

______________________________________________________________

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dotlookstired · 2 days

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I’m very embarrassed to admit this but I have written a Daniel/Armand egg preg fic

Not sure what the proper etiquette is for this kind of thing on tumblr, I migrated here a few years ago and never did or posted much until recently so here’s a warning.

‼️this is mature content‼️ as in 18+

Summary:

It's vampire mating season. Daniel notices a change in Armand and is worried. Armand explains the cruel joke that is mating season: vampires can’t reproduce by mating, but every century, they feel this deep, instinctual desire to try. Soon, he will feel the need to build a nest, mate with Daniel, and then lay an egg. However, because of the hormones still in his system, he'll still want to care for it and will become very depressed when he finally comes to his senses and realizes it will never hatch.

Notes:

Hello, I'm a little embarrassed that I wrote this. I kinda got into an angsty/horny mood and this happened. I also wrote this in one go, and I haven't written smut in years. Grammarly sort of had a stroke towards the end, and I really couldn't be bothered to correct it myself, so I apologize for that. I appreciate comments and constructive criticism.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Armand had felt off for a few days now. The symptoms crept in slowly at first: persistent tiredness, irritability, and a slight fever. His joints ached in a way that was both foreign and alarming, given he is an immortal vampire. The mood swings were the worst, though. One minute he would be calm and collected; the next, an overwhelming sense of anger would wash over him. possessiveness would grip him, making him growl at anyone who came too close to Daniel.

Daniel noticed the changes but had no idea what could be the issue. He thought maybe Armand was somehow sick, or angry at him for some unknown reason. The uncertainty gnawed at him until he couldn’t take it anymore. One evening, as Armand lay listlessly on the couch watching Phil Swift cut a boat in half with a chainsaw and then fix it with flex tape, Daniel decided to confront him.

“Armand,” he said softly, sitting beside him and taking his hand, “what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting so strange lately. Are you sick? Or… are you mad at me?”

Armand blinked slowly, the fog in his mind clearing slightly as he focused on Daniel’s concerned face. It took him a moment to process the question, but when he did, a wave of realization washed over him. “Oh,” he murmured, squeezing his hand gently. “It’s not you. It’s… it’s that time of the century again.” he said more to himself than to Daniel

Daniel frowned, confused. “What do you mean? What time of the century?”

Armand sighed and sat up, running a hand through his messy auburn hair. “Vampire mating season. It’s a cruel joke, really. We can’t reproduce by mating, but every century, we still feel this deep, instinctual desire to try. The symptoms you’re seeing… are because of that.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in shock.

Armand took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. “Basically It means that for about a week, I will feel the need to build a nest and have lots of sex. It’s intense, and we become very territorial. Afterward, the vampire who was on the receiving end, in this situation me, feels a painful pressure in their lower abdomen, as if an egg is forming. Eventually, they’ll feel the need to push and… lay the egg. Of course, there will be no baby but the vampire who lays it will still feel a strong need to care for and protect it until they come to their senses. It’s a delusion our bodies force upon us. And then… then we grieve over what can never be.”

Daniel listened in stunned silence, his mind racing to comprehend what Armand was telling him. “Other than the intense sex part that sounds kinda awful, there’s nothing we can do to stop it?”

“No,” Armand replied softly. “But I’ll understand if you don’t want to be here for it. It’s… a lot to handle.”

Daniel shook his head firmly. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re a couple we should both have to suffer.”

As the days passed, Armand’s symptoms grew worse. He became increasingly restless, driven by an uncontrollable urge to gather soft materials and create a nest. Daniel watched as Armand collected blankets, pillows, and even some of Daniel’s worn clothes from the basket in the bathroom. Daniel thought it was kinda gross at first but Armand explained that Daniel's lingering scent on the worn clothes was incredibly comforting to him. Armand meticulously arranged them into a cozy, safe space in their bedroom.

The rest can be found on my ao3

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inkskinned · 11 months

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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

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turtleblogatlast · 6 months

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[ cw: risk taking behavior / circumstantial self harm kinda / ignoring of injuries / self-depreciation / slight ooc-ness but for a reason! / ]

Post invasion, Leo is fine.

More than fine! He’s better than before, even. That is, if you don’t count the slightly cracked shell and still healing bones, but those are only a problem when the weather wants them to be!

Leo really is better in the ways that matter.

He’s not as cocky, not as self-centered, and overall just more heroic in general if he does say so himself.

Raph even said he was proud of Leo!

So obviously things are going well.

But.

It’s not enough.

Leo’s better, sure, but he’s still got work to do.

So - and here’s something that will probably make his brothers faint on the spot - he needs to train.

_____

His brothers do not faint, but it’s a near thing for Raph. Mikey has to fan the snapper’s face and Donnie almost brings out the smelling salts before Raph shoots back to his feet with an excited grin.

Leo’s big brother gets teary eyed soon after and envelops him in a bear hug, saying once again how proud he is that Leo is growing up.

Leo lets himself be hugged, even hugs back as fiercely as he can, because unbeknownst to Raph, this marks the end of Leo’s childhood.

He lets himself be hugged like a kid one last time, looking through the hole in Raph’s shell all the while.

_____

Leo only trains the regular way with his brothers and occasionally April and the Caseys, but most especially Raph.

But of course that’s not enough, it was never going to be.

So he goes through the motions of the stretches, the spars, the meditation, and then he leaves.

He makes sure to have his excuses ready, usually defaulting to Hueso as his go to since his brothers are easily bought off with the promise of pizza. Leo hasn’t yet found the tracker Donnie installed in him, but when he does that’ll be dealt with too! But for now, this should be good.

See, the invasion made him realize something.

It’s not about him, but it was his shortcomings that led to everything going to hell.

So he just…needs to get rid of those shortcomings.

He’s working on it, gaining fighting skill in training, but there’s more he needs to do, more skills he needs to train.

Leo watches intently as Repo Mantis swindles someone, he memorizes the sleight of hand that Hypno performs, he sneaks back into the Mystic Library and is so quiet the hush bats forget he’s there, he talks Big Mama into honing his manipulation, and he even sneaks into human hospitals and reptile veterinary clinics to get a clue on more serious injuries.

And after any of these, he heads to Run of the Mill to compete in the Maze of Death.

_____

This is his twelfth time going through the (newly remodeled and even more deadly) Maze of Death, and would be his fifth time winning. The first three times had him waking up in Hueso’s office, and each time he wakes his old persona shines through.

He always waves off Hueso’s annoyance and questions and insists on trying again next time before he steals some pizza and bails.

The skeleton actively tries to stop him from entering the Maze after the first time, but hey- mystics are allowed before you enter.

It’s easy enough to teleport on by.

Harder to meet Hueso’s - and later his brothers’ - eyes when he fails again.

When he first actually won, Hueso congratulates him in that typical deadpan tone of his.

“Ah, felicidades, Pepino. Now you can move on, sí?”

“Hm? Nah, boneman! That run was sloppy!”

And then Leo runs off before Hueso can stop him.

He doesn’t even look at his picture on the champion wall when he next comes around. It’s not much to look at anyway.

_____

His second win is much like the first, and only his third win is actually acceptable.

But he knows the field too much now. He needs a challenge.

When he attempts to go through it blindfolded, he’s quickly shown how much he doesn’t know the Maze. So, obviously, he loses again.

He got a bit more banged up that time around.

“Pepino, basta ya, you’ve already won. Where are your brothers?”

“I can’t stop yet, señor! This is for my brothers - no les digas, please.”

Even if Hueso wanted to tell Leo’s brothers, they haven’t been in enough for him to get to, and it’s not like Hueso has their number since Leo’s the one Hueso usually contacts. For now, Leo’s safe to continue as is.

Though his injuries are getting harder to hide, and there’s only so much his shell in particular can take.

So to speed things up, he incorporates the blindfold into his regular training.

His brothers question it, of course, but hey, he initially got the idea from seeing Lou Jitsu do it in the third best Lou Jitsu movie, so it comes as a great excuse now.

He’s only a little put off by how fast Mikey adapts to it when the others try.

“I dunno-“ Mikey shrugs when asked, “You guys shine so brightly anyway, a mask doesn’t do much.”

Seeing their mystic energies is pretty cool, Leo can admit.

He just wishes he could grasp that himself - and that it was useful for a death maze.

_____

Leo’s training pulls off eventually, and soon, after a few more losses, he wins a forth time. But it’s a near loss, and a near loss is the difference between someone living and dying.

He’s gotta go again.

Hueso’s more insistent than ever, though.

“You must stop, Pepino.”

“But I can do better-“

“You don’t have to! Your shell is bleeding - ¡por tu propio bien, poner fin a esto!”

“I told you, this is for their own good! For everyone’s own good!”

He forgets the pizzas when he leaves. He claims sickness when he hides under his covers.

He ignores how childish the act makes him feel.

_____

Leo’s getting better, and his reflexes and tact in training shows this. His other training of his subterfuge and medical skills also prove to be useful.

He’s pretty good at hiding injuries, now! Though not so good at hiding a pained shell. Even Donnie looks at him with blatant concern (and understanding) when Leo can’t help but take a sharp breath whenever he lands on his back.

It’s hard not to go right back into waving everything off with jokes like he used to. Deflections are easier when they’re annoying!

But- this is just another reason that he needs to get better, right? So his brothers won’t worry. He doesn’t need the spotlight anymore - he’s over that, thanks.

He squashes down the part of him that perks up when Splinter says he’s growing up. He actively kills the part of himself that cries at the same phrase.

_____

So. Yeah. This’ll be his twelfth time running the Maze. And, hopefully, his fifth win. Maybe he really will move on after this.

The Hidden City is pretty big! There’s probably a bigger challenge somewhere.

Maybe Big Mama has a more secret Nexus hidden away, out of the public eye.

Well, whatever. That’s a future problem for him to figure out, yeah? For now, he carries on like usual, teleporting to the entrance of the Maze and diving right in.

Even blindfolded, he works his way through, dodging and weaving and feeling as he goes. He even tries to evoke his inner Mikey and calls on his mystic energy. Not enough to cheat, but enough to feel.

Usually, when Leo teleports, he swears he feels every part of himself disperse into particles. Now, with energy thrumming under his scales, he can feel particles everywhere.

It’s not refined enough to tell him everything, and he gets a fun new burn and a nice whack to the back by getting distracted. Still, it gives him more than he had before. It makes him more aware of everything, like he licked a finger and held it in the air to feel the direction of wind, but every direction blew wind, all in different ways.

He makes it to the end with minimal injuries after that, and sure, his shell is screaming at him now, but he thinks he did a shell of a good job.

…Ah, he needs to cut that out, huh? Man. Maybe Donnie’s collar idea was a good call after all.

Leo needs to be a hero. Not a face man. Not a failure.

Not a kid.

_____

Leo doesn’t smile when the Minotaur takes his picture again for the champion wall, and he doesn’t listen when she tells him to “go home and never come back.”

He doesn’t plan to, anyway, yeesh.

He’s tired as he trudges out of the exit, and Hueso catches him when he stumbles.

Hueso doesn’t say anything. Leo doesn’t either.

Or, he doesn’t, until he feels a familiar large hand helping him up as well.

Leo’s face whips up as he flinches back, eyes wide as they meet with a worried (so, so worried) Raph’s.

“You told them?” Leo asks Hueso in betrayal, heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“Pepino…”

“Told us what?” Mikey pipes up from behind Raph, coming closer to get a better look at Leo, “Leo, what’s going on?”

“Your shell has been having pretty big setbacks on its healing, is this why?” Donnie demands, glaring fiercely as he motions toward the Maze.

Leo feels unmoored. “I-“

“Leo.” Raph interrupts, and no Leo doesn’t want to hear it- “Are you okay?”

And Leo wants to say “it’s not about me”. He wants to say anything that proved he learned his lesson, that he’s not a liability or worse, an active danger to his own family.

He wants Raph to continue being proud of him. He wants his brothers to trust him.

Instead, he passes out.

_____

The next time his eyes open, Leo’s on his side, staring at his blue lava lamp.

He knows without looking that his shell is re-bandaged. He knows his other injuries have been dealt with too.

And unless Leo learned how to do some pretty impressive medical sleepwalking, he knows he’s not getting away this time.

All three of his brothers being in his room prove that.

“What’s been going on, Leo?” Mikey asks, and his voice cracks partway through.

He’s looking at Leo like he’s searching for something, but Leo doesn’t have anything to show. Nothing’s hidden, he just did some light spring cleaning is all, throwing out all the parts he didn’t need.

All the parts they didn’t need.

And yet despite everything, he can feel himself falling back into old ways, a grin tugging at his beak and lackadaisical deflection on the tip of his tongue.

Maybe he should let that part of him show, just for once. It wouldn’t seem like too much of a setback would it? And he could really use a fun pun right about now-

No.

No it’s not about him. He needs to remember why he did all this in the first place.

“Okay- sorry, guys.” He smiles, softly, quietly, “I guess I got too caught up in training. I’ll work at it some more, don’t worry.”

“Oh, I see. Training. That’s all it was, huh? Training.” Donnie hisses more than says, nearly vibrating in anger.

“…yeah?” Leo nods slowly, because, uh, that’s literally the most honest thing he said. It was training.

“If it’s just “training” then why the secrecy, hm? Why in Curie’s good name did you prefer to sneak around rather than, oh, I don’t know, tell your family?”

Leo feels his shoulders rise at Donnie’s aggression, defensiveness welling up in him, “It was my training! Nothing went wrong, I’m getting better!”

“Better?” Raph asks incredulously, “Leo, you’re wasting away. A tap to the shell stuns you for minutes, you lost weight, and your dark circles are worse than Raph’s ever seen them! You aren’t getting better-!”

“YES I AM!”

The words rip out of Leo before he can stop them.

The room is silent as his brother look at him, all wearing expressions of hurt that Leo put there again.

“Yes I am.” Leo reiterates, shaking, “Because- if I’m not-“ He squeezes his eyes shut. “If I’m not-“

Then what was all this for?

Arms slowly wrap around him, and he knows now from the feel of the mystic that it’s Mikey.

“You’ve gotten faster, and sneakier.” Mikey says quietly. “When I accidentally cut my hand, you knew exactly how to take care of it.” His voice grows firm, and he backs out of the hug, “But those are your skills. You, though, you’ve been…you’ve been…”

“You’ve been dilapidating before our very eyes, and trying to hide it.” Donnie finishes, jaw tight. “You think we wouldn’t notice? After everything?” To Leo’s horror, Donnie’s voice is hoarse with tears, “You absolute dumb dumb.”

“I- but I need to train. The Maze is-“

“Leo, we don’t care that you ran through the Maze. We care you did it alone.” Raph says quietly. “We could have joined you, any time.”

“But- but I’m doing this for you-“

“Listen to your brothers, Blue.” They jump as a new voice joins the fray, heads turning to see Splinter make his way into the - frankly crowded - room.

“Dad, I-“ Leo begins, but trails off, suddenly more unsure than ever in the face of his father.

“It’s good you’re finally picking up training! Especially for your brothers’ sakes! But there’s such a thing as going overboard, you know.” Splinter pokes a sharp claw into Leo’s plastron, “Just because you’re dragging it out this time, doesn’t make this any less of a sacrifice. My son, you’ve taken after Karai an awful lot, haven’t you?”

Leo just looks at his father. At his brothers. Then, he looks down at his calloused hands, bandaged and scarred from overuse.

He swallows dryly. “Is that a bad thing?”

He feels his family crowd in around him, feels his father’s hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not wrong to want to be better, Leonardo.” Splinter says, softly and with so much grief and guilt that Leo can never begin to understand, “But you were never bad to begin with.”

Leo’s breath hitches.

“And-” Splinter’s hands rise up to frame Leo’s face. “You are much too young to ever consider sacrifice the best answer.”

“You got me to relax, Leo. So I’ll do the same for you.” Raph grins, eyes wet, “We’re still kids, right?”

And-

Leo smiles, watery but genuine. “Yeah, Raph. We are.”