#my dad says he's seen this creature around before

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Of claws and waffles

I'm preparing to write the rest of the Steddie Angsty August during my vacation at the end of September, I want to enjoy the rest of the prompts and not be stressed. But in the meantime...have Steve cosplaying as Wolverine, a very judgmental Deadpool Eddie, and maybe a small X-23 too?

"Ugh, can you believe that?" Eddie gestured towards a guy in his mid-thirties dressed as the Wolverine. "Another jock jumping on the bandwagon without knowing anything about the comics. Saw it once in the movie theater, thought the costume would do wonders for his arms, bought it on ebay. I'm gonna be sick in my mask."

Even through the limited visibility of his Deadpool mask, Eddie saw Chrissy roll her eyes at his theatrics. "Go ahead. At least you'll wash it after the convention. By hand, because as you told me, the fabric is sensitive."

He just grumbled. She was right, as usual.

"You are so full of self-righteous fury, Eddie, but even through the mask, I can see you staring at that man's ass. And shoulders. And everything."

He threw his head back, almost howling. "Now you're just being mean."

"Plus," she continued, disregarding her best friend's whining, "You're not exactly being fair. You don't know him."

Now he rolled his eyes, but of course she couldn't see him. "I know his type. He's the high school sweetheart who spent most of his time in the gym or practicing moving his godly body or something."

 Chrissy smiled at him, that overly beaing smile that told him in an instant that he'd said something stupid. "Ah. So like me."

"I..." he gulped, "I think I'm just going to shut up now."

He tried looking around for something, anything to redirect the conversation. Suddenly, a perfect topic changer appeared in his sight. "Okay, but that's the cutest thing I've ever seen," he nudged Chrissy and pointed at the scrawny girl, twelve or so, dressed up as X-23. "Her parents must be amazing."

Chrissy's laughter rang in his ears. "Oh, I agree," she said. As if she knew something he didn't.

He choked on his words when the girl ran back to THAT Wolverine and took his hand. "Oh for fuck's sake."

"You said it," she nudged him. "Amazing parents."

As if that wasn't humiliating enough, before Eddie could find a shovel to dig a hole to disappear into, the girl noticed him and her face split in a wide smile. "Dad! Dad, look! Mr. Pool!" She started leading him to Eddie and Chrissy through the crowd.

Oh cool. If only Eddie could do something dignified to avoid the meeting, like faint or vomit, that would be awesome. But he couldn't disappoint the girl. She had a look of absolute joy in her eyes, and he'd be damned if he was the one to make it disappear.

So instead, he leaned into the character.

"Look at you, aren't you the cutest little clawed thing I've ever seen!" he announced to the whole world. "The deadliest tiny creature, very ferocious! Yes, you are!"

He knelt down to her level and even through the consistent noise of the convention, he could hear her giggling. "I am!"

"Come on, tiny terror. Give me your best Wolverine-y growl!"

To his delight, she crouched, imitated the battle pose of X-23 and roared at him like a dinosaur. Then, in a more quiet tone, "Was that good?"

"Good?! Only good?! Do you hear her, bub?" he addressed the Wolverine who hovered over both of them. "You, little lady, were absolutely amazing! 10/10, no notes, this is your calling in life."

He felt someone move behind his back, and of course it was the traitor, ahem, Chrissy, approaching them with a camera. "I'm sorry to disturb you guys, but you make such an amazing group. Can I take your picture?"

And okay, maybe Eddie misjudged the Jockerine, because the guy ruffled X-23's hair and told her, "OK, just this once, you can say it. Swearing permitted. Ready?"

They pulled Eddie to them, and as he unsheathed his katana replicas, the Wolverine and his daughter crouched, roared at the camera, and said together, "Let's fucking go."

Eddie's traitorous mouth said exactly what he was thinking. "Oh my god. Are you single?" Which was objectively a stupid thing to say even to someone he'd met longer than two minutes ago.

The Wolverine blinked at him.

X-23 giggled and said: "dad is single. Maybe he doesn't have to be now?"

To the guy's credit, he didn't seem offended. He just laughed and ran his hand through his absolutely majestic hair that was perfectly stylized into Wolverine's. Shit. The hair. First the body, the face, and now the hair. "Now, El. Mr. Pool here probably doesn't want to be matched with the first Wolverine he sees."

And maybe it was the costume that made him so brave, but the guy was hot, nice, and his daughter was adorable, so Eddie wasn't to be blamed for what he said next, okay? "Uh, actually," he raised his hands, "you're perhaps my tenth Wolvie or so. And clearly the superior one. Having this absolutely adorable - and terrifying! - young lady by your side is also a plus. So...and feel free to stab me, or maybe just tell me no, but - I saw a really nice waffle stand outside. Let me treat you and...El?" The girl nodded, beaming at him. "...to a waffle? Or coffee, water, your choice."

El tugged at the guy's arm again. "Waffle!" she whispered so loud even Chrissy heard it.

He smiled at Eddie, and fuck. Eddie was a goner. "I think that's a yes."

...

Chrissy had ditched them to go hang out with her girlfriend, so Steve, Eddie and El were on their own.

They were sitting outside, Eddie slurping his bubble tea through a straw, mask still in place except for the bottom of his face, Steve - as the guy had introduced himself - sipping his coffee and diligently watching El chatting with other kids, nibbling on her waffles.

"So, is this your first convention?" Eddie asked. "Your kid is amazing, man. She's so happy to be here and she makes an amazing X-23."

Steve smiled and peeled his eyes from El for a second. "Yeah. I promised to take her this year, but after she saw Logan and the third Deadpool movie, she begged to go in a costume. And I just couldn't say no to her."

"She saw..." Eddie coughed. "Steve, sorry to question your parenting, but isn't she a bit too young for those movies?"

"Oh, she is," Steve snorted. "And she shouldn't have seen them. But we live alone, so I usually watch movies at home when she goes to sleep. If she goes to sleep. As she should."

"Are you telling me-"

Steve nodded. "Yep. She's incredibly sneaky. I found out the hard way when I finished the latest Alien and went to check on her in her bed. She wasn't there. I almost had a heart attack, turned the house upside down. I was about to call the police when she peeked at me from behind a curtain that I checked at least twice, and she was asking me if I was mad at her. So...uh. We discussed quite a lot from those movies afterwards, but there's no stopping her if she wants to do something."

Eddie laughed so hard he almost breathed in a tapioca pearl. "Oh wow. But good parenting! Not that I'm one to judge."

Watching El share waffles with her new friends, Steve pressed his lips together. "Yeah, I don't know about that. I'm just doing my best here, but I'm constantly terrified I'm doing something wrong. I adopted her, you know. From...a very bad situation. She couldn't properly talk or anything. So when she saw X-23 on screen, I think she related to her somehow. I've never seen her so excited about anything, so the costume was a must have. She's looking forward to going next year as well, when her hair finally grows long enough. Wig," he added at Eddie's confused silence.

"I mean, I get that," said Eddie as he set down his empty cup. "Cosplaying can be therapeutic. It's actually what my therapist suggested when I got...uh. Injured. And also how I got into cosplaying Deadpool."

"Injured?" Steve didn't sound judgmental, only curious, but Eddie had been in this situation before. Time to rip of the bandaid. He pulled off his mask and forced himself to meet Steve's eyes. "Uh. Yeah. Injured."

He knew he wasn't Deadpool kind of disfigured, but he was well used to the stares in his daily life. He kept the hair, which, hooray, good for him. But he had ugly bite scars on his neck and jawline, some going even to his cheeks. A chunk of his ear was missing too. "It was a dog when I was a kid," he said so that Steve wouldn't have to ask. "Plastic surgery is an option, they say, but it's expensive. And I don't really feel like having my face cut open again, so...yeah." 

"Wow. I'm sorry."

Eddie took a deep breath. "Well, yeah. Not great. Listen, Steve. I'm super confident behind the mask, and thank you for humoring me. But this," he pointed to his face, "is usually a deal-breaker for people. So if it is for you, that's fine."

"It's not."

Eddie blinked. Then again. That wasn't how it had usually gone. "Huh?"

"I mean," said Steve, and shit, he laid his hand on Eddie's knee, when was this his life? What was happening? "I'm sorry it happened to you, but I don't get why it should matter."

"Uuuuh...because you're like, super hot? And you might want someone like that next to you?"

Steve snorted. "Bold of you to assume I don't have my own gnarly scars. I was just more lucky in their placement." When Eddie stared at him, he added: "I'm a paramedic. It happens. I rarely have time for anything, not to mention dating, but when I see a cool and funny guy give my daughter the ultimate Deadpool experience - by the way, waffles are her favorite food - and then he asks me out for a coffee? Hell. I'd be stupid to refuse."

Oh. Eddie suddenly felt a bit like crying. He forced himself to speak up, to have that final confirmation. "So, uh...this," he pointed at his face, "isn't a problem?"

"Nope. And, if you'd like a sort of quote from the first Deadpool movie with that..." Steve laughed, and Eddie knew what was coming even before he said it, "After some talking and getting to know each other...it's a face I'd be happy to sit on."

Eddie grasped at his chest. "Oh wow. You truly know the way to a man's heart."

He laughed and winked at Eddie. "This is the part when you ask for my number."

Eddie had never pulled out his phone faster in his life.

..

Much later, after Eddie showed El around the convention, after many pictures and wonderful memories, Eddie ran into Chrissy again. He was about to introduce her to Steve and El properly, but Chrissy smiled at him - once again that all knowing smile, why?! - and waved at her girlfriend.

"So, Eddie. I see you've met Robin's best friend, Steve."

Robin snickered and pressed a quick kiss against Chrissy's temple. "See? I told you they'd be a great match."

And, before Steve or Eddie could say anything, Chrissy picked up her camera and captured their disbelieving faces. They would keep the picture forever - Steve's mouth hanging comically open, Eddie just staring blankly into the camera, and El happily chewing on the last bite of her waffle.

[ladybirdswritings]

Pretty Thing - Cooper Howard (Ghoul) x Reader

Summary: You’re a shiny, pretty prize worth more caps than can be counted on ten hands altogether. There’s something special about you, and the Ghoul is determined to figure out just what it is.

Notes: I’ve been wanting to write for this cowboy for days now and I’ve finally come around to it. Cowboys are my specialty lately <3. Lmk if u love this and I’ll write more (feel free to leave me lots of comments and interactions, I love those!!)

A03 | masterlist | next chap

pretty thing…

“Well lookie here, seems you vaulties ain’t as perfect as you promise to be, huh?”

A furrow of chocolate brows, offense and confusion from sweet Lucy MacLean. This vault promised development in weaponry that the new world had never seen before. It was a thing of storybooks, the kind of thing her dad told her right before her head hit the pillow.

Now, here she was; and it wasn’t a caged weapon she was staring at… no, but rather a caged person.

“This violates all of our policies…” she muttered softly, worry stitched in her soft features as she looked on at the mangled cowboy beside her.

“Tsk tsk, sweetheart. You oughta be more careful with trustin’ these shit-eating freaks. Ain’t you learned your lesson first time round?”

Lucy sighed, falling to her knees and grazing a warm hand against the metal. She looked on at you with pity. Weak, hazy you.

How did you end up in this predicament? You didn’t know. You didn’t remember.

It was as if the entirety of everything you’d ever known was only stitched within your brain in jagged, disorderly flashes. This had to be one too. A flash.

A vault dweller and a ghoul, side by side.

It was most certainly a flash.

“What do we do, coop?” The brunette wondered, doe eyes gazing up at the mangled creature. He only smirked.

“We split. You find your precious tin-man you can’t stop yappin’ bout… and I’ll snatch up this dyin’ cargo. Comprende?”

Lucy had come to trust him, and maybe it was a stupid thing to do. Reality was, though, he’d kept her alive this far. Maybe she owed it to him to follow orders. With a huff, she parted— and then?

It was just you and the ghoul.

Heavy footsteps circled your metal cage, like shark to labored minnow. You were far too exhausted to pick up those pretty eyes of yours from the ground they gazed at.

Chains wrapped round your wrists and ankles, cold metal burned against your spine and cheek. There were two ghouls in your peripheral vision, and each one was the same amount of horrifying.

The footsteps halted, and suddenly the mangled, noseless blur was clear as day before you. Kneeled to your level, observant— cold.

“Well well— look at you, huh? Pretty thing. Now I understand takin’ precautions but damn, sweetie. That’s a lotta chains, hm? What’s so scary bout’ you?” He whispered the last part, thread laced finger lifting to slowly push a loose locket of hair from your dampened face through the cage.

You blinked, forcing your gaze upward so to try and meet his eyes. It was exhausting.

He observed you like you were a foreign object, a diamond in the radiated rough.

“I’d wager to say that you’re just the weapon we was lookin’ for, ain’t you?”

God, he didn’t know just how right he was.

If there was one certain thing you could remember clear as day, laced through the flashes, it was your powers. Each and every one of them, laying dormant now.

You were far too poked and prodded, too drained to even think of lifting a finger.

“Been doin’ this for centuries, pretty thing. Centuries and I ain’t ever seen this kinda experimentation on a little fawn. Hm. Guess you was just unlucky.” His breath was warm as it hit your face. Musing and eyeing your exhausted, slumped figure. Observant, taking his time. Your keepers would be coming soon— he didn’t seem worried.

“Tell you what. You look like you gon’ make me lots of money. So you’re comin’ with me. Don’t you worry, I prefer ropes stead’ of chains, sweetie. You’ll be nice n’ comfortable.”

The more he spoke, the farther away he sounded. You were aware he was a ghoul, that much was certain. Yet even so, no part of his voice, no part of his fading threats were even a little bit startling. No.

His voice was a soft yet strong southern drawl and god— it was far more comforting than the chains and cement floor you’d always known. Perhaps that’s why you let the exhaustion overtake you. Perhaps that’s why you closed your eyes.

Did it matter why? No. All that mattered was that you did.

The rest was a blur. The last thing you remember? Frayed ropes being wrapped round you tight as you were freed from your chains. Mangled, coat covered arms lifting you from the cement and golden teeth pressed against your aching ear to whisper:

“C’mon now, pretty thing…”

Then?

Slumber…

¿to be continued?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Touch of Sweetness 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Loki Laufeyson

Sister series to mob!Thor

Summary: you make a new friend, but that’s not all. (short reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You park among the rows of cars as you vibrate with excitement. You asked Jada one last time if she wanted to come. When you told her Thor would be there, she scoffed and said you’d come back crying when you got stood up.

Silly her, it’s not a date. Derrrr. 

Your mom said it sounded fun but also declined your invitation. Something about the allergies you never knew she had before. You didn’t bother even telling your dad. He doesn’t care much what you’re up to. 

Still, they can’t rain on the day. It’s so sunny and bright and you’re going to have a lot of fun and make a new friend. You hope it’s not awkward. You would hate to be a third wheel. 

You get out and follow a family through the archway that denotes the entrance. You pay your entry fee and they put a red wristband on you. You smile and turn, squeeing as you see the best sign you’ve ever seen in your life; Bunny Patch. What’s that? 

You rush over to the pen of bunnies, between the pie vendor and the berry lemonade stand. This is a lot more than you expected. You fawn at the furry little creatures, some hopping, some lazing around, others chewing on carrots and lettuce. You like the ones with the long hair on their cheeks. So, cute. 

“Sweetness,” the thunderous voice scatters the children at your side. 

You turn to face Thor as he marches toward you, his hand around that of a pretty woman in a red dress. It’s sophisticated and cute with bows on the straps. You’re a bit insecure about your own choice of pink capris and a polka dot blouse with heart buttons. 

“Ah, there she is. Kitten, this is the friend I spoke of. Sweetness, this is my beloved, Queenie,” Thor gestures between you. 

“Hi,” you open and close your hand in an awkward half-wave, suddenly nervous. 

“And...” Thor continues then searches behind him. “Brother, what are you doing?” 

“It smells like rabbit droppings,” a voice slithers behind him. 

“Hm, yes, that would likely be the rabbtis,” Thor tuts. “Here,” He reaches behind him and pulls a man up next to him. An inch short and more than a few less horizontally. The man is lithe, like a cat, his black hair as sleek as his suit. “I’ve brought a fourth to even out our party. My brother, Loki.” 

The man’s green eyes narrow on you and he looks you up and down. He turns to his brother with a crinkle in his nose. He rips his arm from the other man’s grasp roughly, “you’ve brought me to this place for what? To stain my hands on crushed berries?” 

“I brought you here to have fun,” Thor deepens his tone. “So, you will behave and be nice.” 

“Yes, mother,” Loki rolls his eyes. He crosses his arms and turns his chagrin upon the bunnies. “Ugh, filthy animals.” 

You look at the other woman and she seems just as unsettled by the whole affair. “Look at that one,” you step closer to the pen door. “The black one. He looks soft.” 

“Ah, reminds me of you, Loki,” Thor slaps his back as he drags the woman at his side up to the stall. “Look, he even glowers like you. Likely why the others keep their space.” 

Loki huffs and doesn’t say a word. You glance over at the other woman and smile at her sheepishly. She looks back at you with a hollow smile of her own. 

“I like your dress,” you say. “The bows are pretty.” 

“Oh, thanks,” she peeks up at Thor. “It was a gift.” 

“Oo, nice.” You say, “um, are you excited to pick berries?” 

“Yeah, sure, I suppose... it’s nice to get out,” she nods. 

“Go on then, we’ll catch up. Save some room in the baskets,” Thor bends to kiss her cheek then lets her go. “I think my brother needs some of that berry wine to loosen his collar.” 

You smile at them. Thor returns the sentiment but Loki just shakes his head. The latter is led away by a large hand on his shoulder. You exhale and return your attention to the other woman. 

“Have you known Thor a very long time?” You ask. 

“Oh, erm,” she shrugs, “we just... it’s new.” She peers around and points toward the table trading baskets for money. “Let’s go get some berries.” 

“Right,” you agree. 

You cross the dirt and wait your turn in line. You’re a bit awkward. It’s just that new people make you nervous and you didn’t expect Loki too. 

“Have you known Thor a while?” She asks you suddenly. 

You blanch at her, “oh no, I met him the other day. He told me... he wanted me to meet you. That you needed a friend.” 

“Oh, he did? I guess I do,” she says thinly. 

“I’m sorry. You know? If this is too much. If you don’t want to know me.” You sink your chin down. “My own sister doesn’t even like me.” 

“Hm, mine either,” she says. “It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry.” She sniffs and lets out a sigh. “I really could use a friend.” 

“Me too,” you trill. “What are you going to do with your berries? I wanna try making jam.” 

“I don’t know. Didn’t think about it,” she says. 

“Well, you can think as we pick,” you grab her hand and pull her up to the table as your turn comes. 

You get your baskets and head off into the rows of berries. You scavenge a mostly untouched patch at the far end. You tell Queenie about your sister and her friends. She doesn’t say a lot about herself though. 

“Ah, and have we a full harvest?” Thor stamps onto a bunch of berries and they burst into the dirt. He lifts his foot with a guilty, “oops.” 

“Do watch where you step, brother,” Loki sneers. 

“I find it hard to concentrate with such pretty women around,” Thor turns and squats next to Queenie. He picks some berries and drops them into her basket. “Mother always made a nice strawberry rhubard, didn’t she? She might show you the recipe, kitten.” 

Queenie nods. Loki stays standing, right beside you. You look up as his silhouette darkens in the sunlight. He huffs and says nothing. 

“Brother, you should join in. It’s rather fun. I feel as if I am a farmer in the old days,” Thor muses. 

You take a lush berry and admire the redness. You smell it and take a bite, tasting the sweetness. You hum and another scoff comes from above. 

“What are you doing? That is unwashed?” 

You peer up and chew, swallowing abruptly as you hide the uneaten leaves in the basket. “Nothing,” you lie. 

Thor chortles and murmurs something you can’t make out to Queenie. 

“You will get a parasite,” Loki insists, “you should wash all fruit before consuming.” 

“Can you blame her? She is picking all alone. She needs the sustenance for all her hard work,” Thor taunts. 

Loki flicks his fingers at his brother. He stares down at you tersely. You look down then lift another berry, raising your chin at the same time, “try one.” 

“Are you mad? I just told you. You’ll have worms crawling in your brain.” 

“Hm, well, worth it,” you bite the berry. “They’re yummy.” 

“Don’t--” He bends his knees and swats away what’s left in your hand, “that’s dangerous.” 

Thor purrs under his breath as he reaches across Queenie to dump a handful into her basket. You peel your eyes away from the intimate moment. You shrug and look at Loki. 

“I’ll be fine.” You grab another berry and he catches your hand before you can raise it to your mouth. You turn the berry between your fingers and aim it at him. “Try it.” 

He narrows his eyes. You smile. He lets you go and snatches it. He stares it down and takes the smallest bite of the tip. 

“Tastes like dirt,” he flings it away. “Told you, they need to be washed.” 

“Hmm, well, once we fill the basket, I’ll be sure to do so,” you hold up the wicker. 

He gives it a dull look then reaches to collect berries, pinch by pinch until he has a handful. He tosses them into your basket. You put your focus back to the tangled leaves and stems. This isn’t so bad. Better than Jada and her insults. 

[reginamillls]

have some of my 911 Once Upon a Time AU

* * *

"Uncle Buck-" Jee says and Buck looks down at her lap, but she wasn't looking up at him, instead her finger was pointed to the page of her storybook where a beautiful woman was laying amongst a field of flowers.

"I don't know bunny," Buck says amused. "I don't think I can fit in that dress."

"No that's you," Jee insists and she looks up at Buck then. "You but diff- differ-"

"Different?" Buck prompts and Jee nods her head smiling.

"You think I'm Beauty? And not the Beast?" Buck asks, curious now and Jee nods her head and she turns the page.

The beast in this storybook is massive. A tall creature that stands on it's hind legs. His paws are large, ending in wicked looking claws and his teeth are just as sharp. He's terrifying at first glance, but Buck has read this book with Jee before and he knows that the terrifying expression on the Beast's face softens as he finds love with Beauty.

His blue eyes, the same color as twilight, seem to shine when he looks at Beauty.

He should have wings. Buck thinks as his finger traces the illustration. It's wrong somehow, but Buck has never thought that before. The features are different, the color of his fur should be darker-

Buck shakes away the suddenly strange thoughts and Jee turns the page again.

"I've never been Beauty before?" Buck asks. In the dozens of times they've read this fairytale, Buck has been many things in their world of pretend. Dragons and Princes and Knights. He's even been Alice and everytime Jee-Yun has laughed and gone with their make believe.

She sounds so serious now.

Buck wants to ask know, he wants to know who the Beast could be - when Chimney comes in, a grim look on his face.

"Sorry Buck," Chim says as he comes into the room, wiping the grease from his forehead with a frown. "You need more than just my knowledge for the jeep. You need a proffesional."

Buck sighs, letting his head fall ontop of Jee's which makes her giggle and tell Buck that he had a heavy head. It was a little bit of a balm to the dissapointment he had in Chim not being able to get her to start.

"Is there even a mechanic in Storybrooke?" Buck asks. He's had his Jeep for years, and he's never needed help with it before, Buck can't even think of the last time he needed an oil change.

"There's one on the outskirts of town, right next to the lake. It's called Harbor," Chimney says. "Guy who runs it, he doesn't really come into town that much."

"You know him?" Buck asks and Chimney's brows furrow his gaze going distant for a moment-

"I've seen him in town," Chimney says finally, his voice more monotone then before, almost rehearsed.

Buck has a moment of thinking it strange-

"I think your jeep has enough life in her to make it out that way," Chimney explains as he goes to the kitchen to clean up. Buck kisses Jee's head before setting her down on the couch by herself and goes to follow his brother in law.

"Do you want us to come with?" Chimney asks and Buck shakes his head.

"Nah," He smiles. "Jee missed her Dad, you to should snuggle up with her," Buck suggests with a grin. "Maybe watch a movie with her."

"Yeah," Chimney says and his eyes glance over to where Jee was arranging her stuffed animals carefully by her tea set. She was quietly singing to herself in one of the many songs she would make up on the spot.

Chimney's smile turns sad and Buck follows his eyes to the picture of Maddie that hung on the wall.

Buck feels something tighten in his chest, and he reaches out and puts an arm around Chimney, hugging him close.

They don't talk about Maddie outside of telling Jee about her memory.

"Get out of here before Jee asks you to stay," Chimney jokes, pushing playfully at Buck. "I don't want to lose my snuggle bunny for the night."

Buck goes to say his goodbyes, giving Jee an extra big hug and promising to see her soon.

The drive there is miserable. The jeep sputters and groans on the way there and Buck repeatedly pets the dashboard and begs it to make it just a little bit further.

It's not a long drive, Storybrooke is a small town, but it's the furthest he had to drive in -

He can't remember how long.

The shop itself is unassuming, more of a large garage connected to a small house than anything else. Next to it is a small junkyard, filled with rusting cars, broken appliances and a small biplane that surprises Buck to see. He doesn't remember ever seeing a plane fly over Storybrooke.

Shaking his head away from the strange thought, Buck moves to go into the shop.

There's a thick metal door up front, and Buck would think it looked unwelcoming if it werent for the crooked open sign. He pushes at it, and the hinges move smoothly despite the weight. It's well taken care of.

Despite how the outside looks, the inside feels more welcoming. There's a small couch next to a desk that sits at the corner of the garage. The couch is well loved but clean, and Buck can imagine sitting comfortably in it, maybe even reading from one of the many books that are crammed into the book case next to the couch.

A sign says to ring the bell for service and Buck does so, tapping it three times.

He rocks on his heels, turning to look at the shelf with his hands in the pockets of his jacket, pulling the fabric in front of him.

Buck reaches out again and taps the bell.

"I heard you," A gruff voice says and Buck turns to look at the owner of the voice.

He's a tall man, as tall as Buck is himself and broad.

The man steps from the shadows, and Buck's eyes widen.

There are scars on the man's face that span further down, hidden by the collar of the man's jumper. One of them pulls at his mouth, making it look like he was frowning.

Beyond the scars though are a pair of blue eyes.

The same color as twilight.

part two here

[storydays]

You could give poppy and viva a brother!reader,you don’t have to but you could

My WHAT?!

Viva and Poppy X Brother! Male!Reader

Clay X Male Reader

“Oh my gosh, HeeLllOOOOOO!!! My name is Viva and It’s so fantasamazing to see other Trolls!” The yellow haired Troll squealed, hugging everyone before getting off track and having girl talk with Poppy, when another figure appeared behind Branch and John Dory.

“Oye, don't mind Viva..” The brothers yelped, turning to see a orange skinned male Troll dressed similar to Viva, except he was wearing a crown on his blond head, and he had dark bags under his eyes. “She’s been like that since we were trollings.”

“Mi gemelo melancólico everyone, (Y/N). He’s the moon to my sun.” Viva and (Y/N) shared twin grins. “Whatever, we’re being rude.” (Y/N) offered fist bumps and high fives to the new Trolls, as Viva called for fries and milkshakes. “Lights on for our new friends, Putt Putt Trolls!”

You were chewing on a fry, ignoring the group, even when Clay arrived when you heard the familiar ping of a Hug Time bracelet. “Hug Time!” You chirped with Viva and hugged the nearest Troll which happened to be Clay. He laughed softly, patting your head, ignoring the looks his brothers’ were giving him. 

You stopped squeezing the green haired Troll, and popped up to Viva’s side, as she looked closer at Poppy’s hug time bracelet. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?” You wondered, looking closer at the pink haired Troll in front of you.

“I’m Poppy.” “Okay, another random question: is your Dad King Peppy?” Viva asked hesitantly. 

“Um, yea.” You and Viva had different reaction: she squealed loudly and hugged Poppy and twirled around happily. You smiled softly, eyes misting, as Clay whispered to you, “Are you okay, cariño?” You nodded your head as you walked forward to hug her Poppy much softer than Viva did but still as sweet.

“(Nickname), our hermanita is alive! And she’s the Pop Queen now?!” Viva squealed again as you held Poppy’s face in your hands. “You’re really alive, Popstar. And wow! You are so grown up now and absolutely rocking that queen look, lil sis.” You gush, excitedly flapping your hands up and down and tapping your feet.

Poppy gasped as she remembered hearing a soft voice calling her a Popstar. “It was you!” You tilted your head, curious to what she was talking about. “I’ve always remembered a voice and a warm smile calling me Popstar, but Dad used to say it was in my head. I have a sister and a brother? I was just saying this! Wasn’t I just saying this? How could I not know about secret siblings!” “That is so Dad.” The three of you chorused giggling amongst yourself.

You took a step back walking backwards as Clay’s arm wrapped around your waist, watching Viva and Poppy talk at rapid speed. Something about planning events and best friends? Before you realized it, you were singing softly with your sisters’, catching up, and watching Clay hang with his brothers’, fighting the smirk on his face.

You found yourself curled up into Clay’s side as you got to know his brothers, while Viva and Poppy ran off towards Viva’s house for sister time. 

You frowned hearing about the danger Floyd’s in, for a number of reasons. You were tired of hearing bigger creatures bigger that Trolls abuse Trolls for any reason.

It’s why Viva and the other Putt Putt Trolls made you their king.You’d do anything for Trolls to ensure they could live peacefully. But you also knew it meant Clay and Poppy were going to leave.

You’d seen the way she and Branch looked at each other, and knew where one went, the other wasn’t far behind.

It’s how others’ described you and Clay. But you also knew that Viva wasn’t going to let Poppy go easily. 

You pulled Clay’s arm making him stop mid explanation.. “Amor, you and your brothers’ should get going, before Viva tries to–” You gasped as the door came down with a heavy thud. “Stop you.” you trailed off, sighing and resting your forehead on Clay’s shoulder. 

Maldita sea.

Translations:

Oye= Hey

Mi gemelo melancólico = My broody twin

cariño= sweetheart

hermanita= little sister

amor= love

maldita sea= damn it

Part 2?

@vacayisland

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

The safety on his gun was turned back on with an inaudible click as Jason let the tension leak out of his body.

It wasn't often that someone broke into one of his safe houses, especially one that he hadn't used in a while, so seeing as some of his silent alarms went off he raced over ready to put a bullet in some wannabe robber or maybe a goon sent by another crime lord trying to start something.

Instead he found a prime bat adoption bait sitting in the living room floor, bare stomach pressed to the side of a ginormous egg. It didn't look like any egg hed ever seen either with midnight blue fuzz covering the whole thing. "Hey kid."

The kids head whipped around, startled by a strangers voice. "Who are you?" He asked incredulously, hugging the monster egg closer to himself, "How did you get in here? This place has some serious security."

Jason gave a short laugh, "Yeah, I know. I'm the one who put it there." He watched with mild amusement as the color drained from the kids face.

"You're the apartment owner? I thought he was supposed to be some big scary crime lord!"

"I'm not scary to you?" It wasn't uncommon for people to be intimidated by him. He was, as Steph put it, 'built like a fridge'.

The adoption bait stared into his eyes for a few torturously long seconds before simply saying, "No."

Huh.

"So, whats up with the egg?" He asked, trying to change the subject.

"Thats my line, Todd." A voice said from across the room. Both him and the little intruder snapped there attention to the window where Robin was perched. Jason fought back the urge to chastise the little bat for using his real name seeing as he was out of costume at the moment. After all he was here as Jason Todd, normalish civilian man who came to see why his house was broken into, not Red Hood. Jason almost wished with was some goon working for a big bad even if it would have meant his secret identity was busted, he would have been at least dealing with that instead of Damians inevitable animal custody battle with the kid. Speaking of which.

"Hey kid, whats your name?"

"Danny Fenton." The kid-Danny, tilted his head. "I think."

Robin raised an eyebrow, causing his mask to sift with it, "You think?"

Danny nodded, "Yeah. Got blasted with something a few weeks ago and I don't remember much before that." His grip on the egg had loosened a bit and Robin chose this as he time to strike. Bird boy tried to lift the egg up out of the intruders impromptu blanket nest, but seemed to have misjudged the weight of the egg that was as big as both children's torsos and Danny was swift to take back his egg.

"What do you think you're doing?! Thats mine!" Egg dad hissed.

"Tt. I will be better able to care for the creature. You should just hand it over now. Do you even know whats in there?"

"No! Neither do you!"

Jason knew Robin couldn't refute that so he chose now to step in, "Where did that thing even come from?

He watched as Dannys scowl turned into a beaming smile as he told them about how he was hiding behind a dumpster for warmth when this egg just fell out of the sky and with quick thinking, managed to catch it with a bed of ruined pillows from a recent villian attack. "So you can't take my dragon egg away. I'm the only reason it didn't become a failed street omelet." Danny held his hands on his hips while giving Robin a smug look.

Before the demon brat could say anything or, more likely, try to wipe that smirk off the other kids face, a new person swooped in through the window. "You think its a dragon egg?"

The kid seemed unbothered by the Batman questioning him and just replied with, "Yeah! Look how big it is! Its gotta be a dragon!"

Bruce looked like he was about to have an aneurysm, "You found a large egg of an unknown, potentially supernatural creature and decided to incubate it?"

"Yeah!"

Jason decided he liked this kid.

[samgirl98]

Wail of the Silent 11/?

Prev | Next

Jason cuddled closer to the cool, hard chest underneath him. He was, metaphorically, floating in the clouds and content in his bliss.

Then the door to his room opened, and he fell back to Earth.

Jason jumped quickly, a gun in his hands pointing toward the doorway. Danny got up, uncaring that he was completely naked, his hands and eyes glowing green and pointing at the intruder.

“Holy fuck,” Nightwing yelled out, turning his face away, “It’s me, don’t shoot! And are you both naked?”

Jason was already embarrassed, having been caught by his older brother. Then, Batman, fucking Batman, showed up. Someone, please kill him. It would hurt less than this, and Jason would know. He had died once already.

‘Get out,’ he signed, desperate to save his last shred of dignity, ‘haven’t you ever heard of knocking?’

“I’m sorry, Jay, we thought you were in trouble! You were kidnapped in front of Batman by a weird creature after you had almost put a bullet in your head!”

‘Well, you see that I’m fine, get out!’

“We’re sorry—wait, why are you signing?”

Jason dropped his hands, unsure how to explain. He looked at Batman with fear. The longer he stared at the man, the longer the silence lasted, and the more scared Jason became. He could feel his emotions broadcasting from his chest. Only one person in the room could hear him, though.

Danny tied a blanket around his waist and got in front of Jason, effectively hiding him from his family, from his father.

“Jay, why are you signing,” Dick asked again, sounding angry. “Why is there a cut on your throat?”

Because my dad took away my voice! He wanted to tell him, to yell it at him, because our father chose my murderer instead of me, and I paid the price!

“I don’t care who you are. Jason wants you to leave, so leave!”

Danny’s voice was soft, but it carried authority throughout the room. Batman and Nightwing paused; their attention was away from Jason, but it was wholly dedicated to Danny now. Jason felt more nervous for Danny than for himself.

“Who are you,” Batman asked, “I recognize you even if your coloring is different. You’re the one who kidnapped Jason,” Batman growled.

Jason left the safety of Danny’s protection and signed at Batman angrily, ‘Don’t you dare! Danny saved me from that bitch and myself. If it hadn’t been for him, my brains would’ve been painting the walls of Arkham.’

Both Nightwing and Batman flinched at the reminder that Jason had almost killed himself.

“Jay lad,” Batman started saying.

Jason cut him off quickly.

‘Get out, we’ll be there soon.’

Batman and Nightwing hesitated.

‘Seriously, I don’t want to get dressed in front of you two. If you want answers, then wait in the living room. Or leave, that’d be better for me.’

“Jason, you were targeted by an unknown. We are not leaving,” Batman growled.

Batman nodded and turned away from them. Nightwing stared at Jason’s cut, making him feel more vulnerable than his nakedness. He wished that Batman’s greatest success hadn’t seen Batman’s greatest failure at his most vulnerable.

Jason saw Nightwing’s jaw clench before he left.

As soon as the door slammed behind Nightwing, Jason fell to his knees, tired and scared. Silent tears fell down his cheeks. He opened his mouth and gave a silent scream.

Before he could lose himself, Jason felt cool arms around his shoulders and a strong chest on his back. Danny’s core was humming, comforting Jason.

Jason let Danny do it. After all, he wasn’t alone anymore.

____

Dick turned Bruce around and punched square on the face. The older man fell in the middle of the living room.

Dick was livid.

Batarangs left a particular slice behind that could not be replicated by any other weapon on Earth. Even if that wasn’t the case, Jason’s reaction when Dick had asked who had given him that scar told Dick everything.

“Nightwi—ugh,” Dick didn’t let Bruce finish. He didn’t deserve to explain himself. Bruce had hurt his younger brother and had taken away his voice. Dick saw how deep the cut was. It was only by some miracle that Jason wasn’t dead!

“You arrogant bastard, why? Why?”

The punches and kicks kept raining down on Bruce. The tears that hit the exposed part of his face hurt more than any of the hits that Dick was giving him. He had not only hurt Jason, but Dick, too. After a while, Dick stopped the punches and fell on the floor beside Bruce.

“Damn you, old man,” he whispered, “damn you.”

Bruce knew explaining himself would worsen things, but he had to, “He was making me choose between killing the Joker or killing him. I chose the option to keep both of them alive.”

Dick looked at Bruce with renewed anger, “Get out.”

“Dick,” Bruce said.

“Get out, now! Or I swear to everything sacred that I will ignore your damned rule and kill you myself!”

“Dick,” He tried again.

“Don’t make me a murderer, Bruce. Leave now! I’ll take care of Jason.”

Bruce didn’t want to leave. Jason was with an unknown. Someone or something was chasing him, causing him to want to kill himself. Bruce had to take care of his son.

Bruce got up and left out the window. He looked back one last time. Dick had turned his back to him. It hurt Bruce, but he understood. He had hurt his sons. His children were in pain because of him.

Bruce could only hope that they would be safe.

No, he would do his part to find and eliminate this threat. Batman would not let his children or Gotham down.

Dick heard the window close. Words could not describe the turmoil of emotions he was feeling.

He knew Bruce wasn’t perfect. He found that out very quickly, fuck, he still remembered the punch to his face when Bruce had been grief-stricken over Jason’s death. So, how could he have put the vilest man to ever live over the son he had lost and gotten back?

Dick didn’t know, and he didn’t honestly care to know.

Besides, he had a younger brother to take care of.

But first, “Oracle, send this message to every comm even if they’re off.”

Something in his tone must have told Barbara that Dick wasn’t messing around because she did so with no hesitation.

The family deserved to know what Bruce had done.

Pissed off and protective Dick, my beloved.

I don't think Jason is going to appreciate Dick for telling the family what happened, but at least the family knows what Bruce did and gets to decide if they want to follow Bruce or not.

[luveline]

Thinking about Eddie going out to get dinner while reader is over!! Reader sees a big bug and doesn’t want to deal with it/tries to trap it so Eddie can deal with it, but Roan legit just picks it up and let’s it go easy while reader is like “roan my hero T_T!!!” Reader def brings over presents for Roan the next visit because of that LOL.

thank u for ur request lovely! eddie and roan —your boyfriend's trailer attracts creepy crawlies, but luckily his young daughter knows how to catch them. 1.3k

The thing about Eddie's trailer is that, while he's more than made it a home, it is full of bugs. Maybe because the trailer park is a huge field of grass, maybe because of the forest surrounding, you're guaranteed to find a bug or two every time you visit.

Sometimes you get lucky with small moths to be herded back out of the kitchen door. Occasionally, spindly spiders on lines of sink drop down into the room and are swiftly captured by Eddie in an open palm. You have never, ever faced this particular brand of misfortune before. 

"What is that?" you squeal, pulling Roan hard against your chest.

She's small, and before your violent flinch, she'd been quite comfortable sitting atop your thigh, her back to your chest. "Woah!" she says, her voice very high. 

"Holy crap," you say, again and again as you shuffle down the couch and off of the side of it. 

As soon as you can stand without fearing for your life, you pull Roan to your chest, her short legs dangling from either side of your thigh. Letting your new boyfriend's daughter die via a mysterious bug bite would be extremely uncool. You quite like her, and her dad's fine (you feel this yawning pit at the very bottom of your stomach whenever you think about how much you want this to work, how much you already love them). 

"Princess, what is that?" you ask, though as soon as you've finished asking, you realise it's nothing nefarious after all. 

She tips herself back in your arms, assessing the bug upside down. "Uh. That's a mildi-pede." 

The bug is long and brown, segments of its body curved and multi-legged. It moves with tiny footsteps but makes good progress, crawling across the wooden slates toward the rug. 

Eddie is the bug catcher. You're the celebrator —he grabs a cup and a piece of paper to sequester whichever insect has decided it must harass you that night, and you get to thank him for being brave with kisses that are somehow shy and congratulatory at once. You're allowed to kiss him, now, whenever you like, but each one makes your lips tingle. 

"You get a lot of those?" you ask. 

"You've never seened one?" Roan asks. 

You live in Indiana, so of course you've seen a millipede. But, you know, normal millipedes, not mutant ones the length of your forearm. 

"I feel like I haven't," you confess, your pulse thudding against your chest. 

"Where did it go?" Roan asks, wriggling to be put down on her own two feet. She sounds far more curious than afraid.

You put her down on the rug and peer over Roan's play picnic table cautiously. You're ninety nine percent sure that millipedes can't hurt people, but you're scared shitless anyhow. 

"Your dad will be back with Chinese food, soon," you say, stepping backwards as Roan creeps forward. It's adorable. You'd coo if your nerves weren't frazzled. "Maybe we could go wait at the kitchen table." 

You'd rather wait for him to come home than deal with it yourself. The thought of somehow touching it makes your skin crawl. 

"She's a super duper long one," Roan calls, dropping to her knees. 

"Roan?" you call back hesitantly. "Uh, don't do whatever it is you're doing. Come on, I'll make you a fun fruity drink again like last week while we wait for your daddy?" 

You bite the tip of your tongue so hard you're sure you've sheared the tip clean off when Roan turns back to you, the wretched (innocent) creature racing its legs uselessly as she holds it up in the light. 

You wrap your arms around your own chest. "Holy crap, babe! Put it down!" 

"Daddy says the bugs aren't scary, they just wanted to have somewhere warm to sleep!" 

"Your daddy is very smart," you concede, strained, easing away as Roan comes closer. The creepy crawly is a contrast to her silky lilac pyjamas and ruffled socks, its armoured carapace shining as it metronomes with each step she takes. "But I'm not as brave as you both." 

"If you open the door, I can put her outside," Roan says, as though you're the child and she's the adult, her tone softened by that seemingly endless patience Eddie possesses. 

You keep your doubt (your disbelief? your awe?) to yourself and cross the short distance to the front door to open it as she commanded. Roan rushes out onto the small porch and down the steps, crouching in the grass to place the millipede down with the utmost care. It's dark out, and she's unafraid, the path lit only by orange light slipping from inside the trailer and the weak headlights of an oncoming car. 

You descend the steps and join her. 

"Here you go, missy mildi-pede, back to the grass," she murmurs. The millipede's back legs cling to her hand. Roan runs out of sweetness and shakes her free. 

You breathe in the cool night air for a moment, watching with Roan as the millipede crawls out of sight between tall blades of bluegrass. 

"You're very brave," you say. You feel a little sheepish to have been rescued by her. 

"Daddy says that all the time," she agrees proudly. 

You offer her your hand and stand tall together as the headlights become apparent. Your car (with Eddie driving, to avoid a game of driveway leap frog) pulls into the space behind his own. He waves when he sees you both behind the windshield, getting out of the car with the takeout bag looped around his wrist. 

"Hi girls," he says, closing the door with his hip. "What're you doing, sending out a search party? I wasn't gone that long." 

"I had to– I had to bring a mildi-pede outside because Y/N was scared," Roan says, her sentence punctuated with a roaring giggle as Eddie swoops her up into his arms, takeout bag and all. 

"Oh yeah?" he asks, smothering her answer with kisses. 

You bracelet your wrist in the other hand sheepishly. 

Eddie doesn't look up. You assume you've gotten away with not knowing what to say until he pops Roan on his hip, reaching for you. More shameful than your inability to deal with a bug by yourself is how urgently you step into his side. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, the takeout bag hot against your back, his lips curled into a fond smile as he murmurs, "D'you finally see the spider in the bathroom?" 

You tilt your face into his cheek kisses. "No?" you ask. 

"I'm calling him Gregory," Roan says.

"He's not that big," Eddie promises, leaning back to stroke your face.

"She saved me from the world's grossest millipede."

"Were you kind?" Eddie asks her.

Roan puts a little hand over her heart. "Duh, daddy."

"She's wicked with them, isn't she? She grabs them like they're nothing," he says to you, his hand rubbing down your arm before he passes you the take out bag. Roan must weigh heavy after a long day; he needs both arms to keep her up. They grin at each other with twin mouths. "She's fearless. Thanks for saving Y/N, babe." 

"I like Y/N," Roan says earnestly. 

You like Roan too —your saviour. You bring her a big Dotty Dolly set the next time you're lucky enough to be invited over, an entomologist Dolly with khaki cargo shorts and a butterfly net. Roan loves it, and Eddie's evidently appreciative, sitting you half on top of his lap as you watch her tear it open with his arms crossed lovingly over your tummy. 

[kitchenisking]

October Fic Rec

The Wolf by rororowyourboat - (Rating: G, Words: 3,901, sterek)

Stiles and Derek haven't seen each other in years, but after talking on the phone nonstop for months now, Derek is finally moving back to Beacon Hills. The day he's supposed to arrive, he stops responding to Stiles' texts, and then a blue-eyed wolf shows up on his porch steps. Obviously something has happened to Derek, and Stiles needs to help him out... right?

His Accidental Touch by Hidden_Orchard - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,859, sterek)

It happened accidentally, the first time. All the many and varied times afterwards, Stiles would hold his hands up and admit full responsibility for. But that first time – pure chance.

Derek needs a cuddle. Stiles - generous man that he is - would never deny Derek something he needs.

you're pulling on my soul by maevedarcy  - (Rating: T, Words: 3,981, sterek)

Derek reached behind him and gave him a bottle of Mountain Dew. Stiles froze, at loss of words for the first time in a long time. Did Derek bring him Mountain Dew? How did he know he’d be here in the first place? And how did he know to get him the blue raspberry flavor?

“You always drink that when you’re at the loft,” he explained, as if it was obvious.

[Or, 3 times Stiles missed the signs and one time he didn't]

Kiss It Better by Hedwig221b - (Rating: T, Words: 1,640, sterek)

Eli was healthy, bubbly and happy most of the time, a perfect overly energetic and curious child, but sometimes he just gave Stiles this studying, almost suspicious long stare and pursed his little button nose, as if thinking very hard about something.

Today was one of those days.

A Little Push in the Right Direction by crossroadswrite  - (Rating: G, Words: 3,708, sterek)

“Can I see your wolf face?”

Derek flushes all over, ducks his head and kicks the carpet awkwardly. “I, uh, can’t really shift into my beta shift.”

Stiles squints at him and for a split second the color of his eyes turns liquid, like there’s whiskey sloshing around in the irises. It’s subtle enough that it could pass for a trick of the light but Derek knows better; growing up peeking at an array of supernatural creatures from behind his mom’s legs taught him enough to take a step back.

“Maybe you need a push.”

Fix my car and fix my tubes by TalesoftheEnchantedForest - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,297, sterek)

Derek fixes Stiles's car and Stiles is just really turned on by his skilled husband.

Thunder by TriskHellion - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,066, sterek)

The one in rural Montana where two strangers — a depressed, lonely Alpha Derek and a haunted post-Nogitsune Werefox/Thunder Kitsune Stiles — leave everything behind and end up finding each other.

-----

Both of them seemed to realize they’d been staring at the same time, Derek saying “Uh, howdy” and the stock boy straightening up and asking if he needed help finding anything.

“Looking for a screw,” he said, after tearing his eyes away and scanning the aisle again. He was already groaning internally when the words were halfway out of his mouth and the new guy — Sean his name tag proclaimed at another glance — snorted before asking what kind while trying to keep a straight face.

My Sanctuary (is in your arms) by Karla_Kattz - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 23,670, sterek)

Stiles jumps out of his car and makes his way to the rear. Without giving it too much thought, he rips the trunk open. The wolf lifts its head and lets out a low whine. The wolf?! What the fuck! There’s a wolf in his car. Lying on Derek’s maroon jumper, that he was looking for two months ago - turns out, it has been in Stiles’ Jeep all the time, oops. Stiles throws the lid shut again and leans against it, heavily. He’s got no clue how the animal got in there, but it must have happened when Stiles put his bag in the car and then went back inside his dad’s house to get that damn energy drink. And now he picked up a canine hitchhiker. Fucking amazing. Honestly, why is this Stiles’ life? Why keeps stuff like that happening to him?

——— Stiles co-owns a wolf sanctuary, loves his job and his amazing boyfriend Derek even more. His life couldn‘t be more perfect. Except, you know, if it wasn‘t for his boyfriend‘s secret, his feral sister and the bunch of crazy hunters who are after them. Apart from that… yep. Awesome.

inevitable by EvanesDust - (Rating: G, Words: 2,294, sterek)

in·ev·i·ta·ble /inˈevidəb(ə)l/ adjective certain to happen; unavoidable.

…the one where Eli asked about how Derek and Stiles met and eventually fell in love.

Dress You Up by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,057, sterek)

Stiles is spending a lot of time with the queens at The Jungle. He goes out with them on Halloween and bumps into Derek. Sex happens.

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part five)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five (16.3k words) | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

Death was first explained to you and Yelena when you were six; Yelena’s favourite of her mother’s pigs passed away, and you were both called in from playing outside to be sat down gravely.

“Girls… Wilbur the piggy has, ah, passed away,” Alexi told you. You stared back at him blankly.

“Do you know what that means?” added Melina more gently.

“Uh… Peter from class said his mom and dad passed away,” Yelena offered after a few moments. “And it means that, like, he can’t see them ever again, so he lives with his aunt now.”

“Yes!” said Alexi enthusiastically, before catching himself and adding in a much more solemn tone, “I mean, ah, yes… very sad. Not good.”

Melina looked at him sternly and he fell silent. “You are right, Yelena. When someone passes away, it means they are no longer with us.”

“Like when you go to the store?”

“No. When I go to the store I am always coming back, да? Passing away is permanent, and it means you never see them again.”

“Oh. But I like Wilbur,” said Yelena sadly, and you nodded in agreement.

“That is what makes life all the more precious,” Melina told you gently. “You never know when someone may pass away — only that everybody will, someday. So you must enjoy the time you have with them, my darlings, and never take it for granted.”

As the years went on and the two of you began to understand what death actually means, that first introduction to it became somewhat of a running joke between you and Yelena (because how else can humans deal with such a terrifying concept as death? You can choose to either laugh or cry, and Yelena will always choose to laugh); the idea of someone passing away will often be referred to as going to the store. For example, Alexi is probably the sole man responsible for the entirety of Ohio state’s roadkill — neither you nor Yelena can remember a car journey with him in the wheel during which some unfortunate creature has not stumbled into his path and suffered fatally for that mistake. Every time it happens, without fail, Yelena will turn around eagerly in her seat or poke her head out of the window and assess the damage before gravely announcing, “That one is definitely not coming back from store.”

It’s a euphemism that can be used in any situation — and often is, actually. Whenever the TV signal packs up (as it often does in such a rural town as your own) and the Kardashians begin to cut out awkwardly, Yelena will throw down the remote and shout in frustration “Ma! The fork thingy on the roof has gone store again,” and Melina will know exactly what she means. Or whenever your history teacher Mr Fury hobbles into class, who is so old he looks like he’s witnessed half the events he teaches you, Yelena will nudge you and whisper “he is close to store’s doorstep now, eh?” Et cetera, et cetera. The phrase gets used often.

You feel silly for your mind wandering to those words, given the circumstances. But all you can think of right now is your overwhelming hopes and prayers that Liho has not gone to the store — and that neither has your bond with Yelena. As for Natasha… well, recent times have been a cruel wake-up call.

It’s been a few hours since Melina left with the cat, and the only text you’ve gotten from her since then says cat in surgery now. Yelena has barricaded herself in your shared room — her room now, you think miserably to yourself. You have never, ever seen her so upset, not in your whole life. You don’t think you’ve ever even argued with her, outside of your usual half-hearted play wrestles. But now she’s shouted at you through your thick heavy door, a solid wall between you, putting miles between the two of you but still not enough distance to lessen the brutality of the words she hurls at you from the other side of it. Words you can’t think of for too long or tears will begin to brim in your eyes all over again. Words which you know you deserve, but ones you never thought you’d hear your best friend say to you.

Now you sit uncomfortably stiff on the couch, feeling like a stranger in the home you’ve grown up in, the silence threatening to suffocate you. You feel almost like a prisoner in your body, unable to move as you relieve the last few hours over and over in your head. There’s no doubt in your mind that Yelena is right. You are an awful person. If you weren’t, if you were better, maybe Natasha would still want you, instead of casting you aside once you began to bore her. Maybe if you were better you’d have been sensible or strong enough to not sneak around with her at all. But you’re not, and now you’ve broken apart a family you weren’t even worthy of in the first place.

Natasha is sat in the armchair opposite you, legs curled beneath her, nursing her bloody nose. Her gaze has been fixed on you for the indeterminable amount of time you’ve both been sat here, but you are too exhausted to care. For once, you have much, much bigger problems than her feelings.

Eventually, she speaks, more subdued than usual. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Your voice doesn’t sound like yours. It’s somewhere else, someone else’s, far away.

“For…” She hesitates. Like there’s something she doesn’t want to say out loud. “For not, uh. For treating you badly.”

Well, that’s not really what you expected her to say.

Your silence prompts her to flounder further. “I just— I don’t, well, I can’t really explain a lot, but I— I know I messed up. You deserved better. And I’m sorry.”

And you’re so done with her, and so little of yourself is left now that you simply stand up and walk away.

Natasha doesn’t even call after you, just kind of makes this sad and defeated little noise that makes your heart hurt. You know it would just ache even more if you turned around again, though. So you don’t. You walk the hall for a few aimless moments before your feet carry you to the only person currently home who you still have a dependable relationship with — Alexi.

His workshop, as he calls it, is adjoined to the kitchen; a tiny wooden door which he has to bend himself double to fit through, leading to the garage. This has been his space for as long as you can remember. You have no idea how he moves with such ease through it when it’s like a maze to you — huge chunks of greasy half-repaired machinery everywhere, cluttered workbenches and racks of tools and shelves of liquids labelled in his indecipherable Russian scrawl. He often has the tiny tin portable perched on a shelf squeaking out radio shows in his mothertongue which he guffaws merrily at, but as you enter now the room is peacefully quiet, save for Alexi’s disjointed hums of a thousand songs in one and the little chink noises the piece of metal he’s working on makes every time he hits it, slowly bending it into shape.

“Ah, привет! Good evening, daughter,” he says cheerfully, without even turning around as you creep up barefoot behind him. He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you, for a while; you opt to simply sink down onto one of the wooden stools littered about the place and watch Alexi absently while he works. This doesn’t faze him at all. On the occasions where Yelena was busy without you as a kid, you would do this very thing. Alexi would simply chuckle at you and ruffle your hair with a large bearish hand, oftentimes leaving behind little smudges of black motor oil in it. You’re still in your prom outfit, though, with your hair done up intricately, so tonight he stops himself in time.

“Do you think Liho will be okay?” you ask after a while, in a very small voice.

“Oh, да,” he replies, without hesitation. Even with his back to you as he tinkers busily you can hear the sincerity in his tone. “Yes, yes. Think of what that kitty has been through already, eh? When you found him he was doing worse than that. He is, uh, tough meat. A fighter.”

Seeing Alexi so placid and unshaken in the face of tonight’s events is strangely calming and you nod, soothed by his words, before another thought strikes you. “Oh… but the vet bills.”

Alexi lets out a low but not unkind laugh. “Ah, не будь глупым, you worry so much. We will figure those out. Melina is a sly fox, has money tucked away in hidey-holes, eh?”

“But— I mean —” You twitch uncomfortably, and Alexi seems to finally cotton onto what it is that you’re really worried about. He sets down his tools with his usual gentleness, which never fails to look foreign on such a giant of a man, and turns to look at you.

“You are member of this family,” he tells you. “No matter what Yelena say. She is angry, sure, but it will blow over, eh? You love the silly little fur man, and we do too. So if these bills will help him of course we will pay it. There is no need for worry.”

“But I ruined everything,” you say quietly.

He laughs again. “Nonsense. You have not ruined any of the things, голубка.”

“But… your date night. And— Natasha,” you hiccup.

“We have date nights all the time, подсолнух, there will be others. And Natasha… well, me and your mama are knowing this for long time. Yelena will be coming round also, eventually. We will figure this all out, we are a family. She is your sister. All of the things will be okay. None of them are ruined.”

And you can’t help but cry at that, at his earnest sincerity, his certainty that things will work out — and because you love him, and he is your family. You tell him so through choked sobs, and he just looks at you softly before wrapping you into a petrol-scented bear hug, prom outfit be damned.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe everything will be okay.

Yelena sinks into another episode over the following days. She does nothing much but sit, a vacant look in her eyes, devoid of any feeling, and stare for hours at a time as though seeing something that the rest of you cannot. She has no words left to give, and drifts around on autopilot, only performing basic functional tasks when prompted to — as if they’re an afterthought. Seeing her like this wracks you with guilt in a way none of her episodes have before, because for the first time you know with a crushing certainty that this is because of you. You offer countless times to return to your parents’ house across the road, the residents of which you haven’t conversed with in months, but Alexi and Melina dismiss this as if it’s the silliest idea in the world.

“You are family,” Melina tells you firmly. “Fights happen, да? You stay.”

Even if you’re still welcome in the house you’re certainly not welcome in your usual room. Natasha offers to put you up in hers but drops this very quickly after the look that you give her, so instead a section of the loft is cleared for you. You and Alexi spend a merry Sunday together in his workshop assembling a bedframe for your new space, only to discover once you’ve made it upstairs that it’s actually too large to fit through the attic hatch, so you have to take it to bits to get it up there and then rebuild it all over again. (It doesn’t really matter though, because Alexi is so bemused by the whole thing and his own oversights that it’s impossible to be frustrated at the setback. He just grins so goofily.) When Yelena is in the shower you sneak back into her room to gather as many of your belongings as you can and begin to turn the little space into yours. Melina brings home some fairy lights from the store, you order some posters online and within a week or so you’ve organised yourself a very cozy nest amongst the mess of the loft.

Even now you’ve moved in, over half of the room is still piled high with boxes of various things and piles of junk and the distinct, cloth-draped, dust-gathering shapes of Alexi’s abandoned projects (which he insists on keeping on the basis that he might need them someday, much to Melina’s theatrical chagrin). The various artefacts throughout the room create a kind of ever-changing maze, and you remember playing up here with Yelena when the two of you were kids and it was too cold to play outside — for you, anyway, being someone who’s grown up in a relatively warm American state. To this day Yelena often scorns you for your inability to tolerate any kind of cold, and reminds you of the climates the rest of the family has lived in.

Thinking of her makes your heart involuntarily twinge, and you wince, standing from your perch on the end of your new bed in the vain hopes of shaking it off. As you do so something in the opposite corner of the room catches your eye; the neat pile of scrapbooks Melina worked on for years when you were kids. “I’m going full American mama,” she would quip, spending hours of an evening painstakingly prettying the pages laden with pictures that Alexi had taken throughout the day. You find yourself warmed by these memories, and drift over to the pile of books, settling before it. The newest scrapbooks are naturally at the top, so you shuffle through the pile until you reach the very first scrapbook Mama Melina ever made, which begins the day Yelena came home. You settle down comfortably on the floor, cross-legged like you’re a kid again, and begin to flip through its pages; the very first are adorned with pictures of Melina and Alexi in their youth, and then on their wedding day. After that is the day Yelena came home, absolutely unfazed by this strange new country and its drawling people. Every single photo has the date it was taken written beneath it in perfect cursive, and through the timeline shown you can see that it was barely two weeks into Yelena’s residency here before you and her properly met, and became firm friends. Things progress like that for two years, from when you were five until when you were seven; regular entries are made in the scrapbooks documenting road trips and school plays and lost teeth, all of which you smile upon fondly.

Halfway through the third scrapbook, Natasha comes home. You recognise one of the many pictures documenting this milestone as one that hangs large and framed with pride downstairs above the fire; a stunned, still blue-haired Natalia swathed in thermals, huddled in the corner of Alexi’s rickety old fighter jet on the journey back from the motherland, beaming widely up at whoever’s taking the photo. Despite the fact that you see it every day, seeing it alongside so many others in which she’s so bewildered but so, so happy makes your heart feel so strongly that you have to flip ahead.

You pore over the pages of the main scrapbooks with interest for a while longer, until the main timeline ends and divulges into you, Yelena and Natasha each having your own dedicated scrapbooks. You have no interest in studying your own baby photos, and given all that’s going on reliving Yelena’s would be unbearable right now, so instead you find yourself picking up Natasha’s, and pushing the others aside.

Seeing her grow up before your eyes like this is surreal. In reality you were by her side every day, and most of these changes happen so gradually that you barely even noticed them, but here are immortalised stills from throughout the years which show how she’s grown. When she first came home she hadn’t had her growth spurt yet, and still had her gentle Russian lilt which the rest of her family retains to this day. As she starts attending public school and socialising with her peers you can see that something changes very hastily within her; a light kind of fades from her eyes. The blue is bleached from her hair, and as the red fades back in its place she seems to fade a little too — into the quiet, observant Natasha that you know today. She doesn’t seem unhappy, as such, but… uncertain, and it dredges up a kind of sadness in your chest that forces you to push the book away, lest the tears in your eyes follow through with their threat to overspill.

You��ve always seen Natasha as someone so secure and sure of herself — so much so that she doesn’t feel the need to speak over anyone else in the room in order to get her opinions across. When she does speak it’s usually a quick, cutting remark that earns laughs and leaves everyone eager to hear more out of her. When she walks into a room heads turn to look at her, no matter where she goes. She knows that. She’s someone worth paying attention to. It’s never occurred to you, not once in your life, that her behaviours aren���t the result of something different. But looking at these pictures has stirred up something in you which you can’t quite describe. A deep sadness at the fact that you’ve probably never known her at all, aside from the parts of the real her that have slipped through the cracks; her Russian accent and sleepy kisses first thing in the morning, her goodnight texts, the way she doesn’t need to ask your order at drive-thrus or coffee shops, the notes she’d leave under your pillow. That’s Natasha. Not whoever this is who’s pushed you away. Not this girl who has bleached the childhood from her hair and taught herself how to be from another place.

You pile the scrapbooks back in the neat and tidy order in which you found them and crawl back to your bed, flopping into it, utterly emotionally exhausted by this trip down memory lane. You think it’s dark outside… you’re certainly tired enough to rest now, anyway, and you do; drifting in and out of an uneasy slumber, visited by vague and twisted recollections from your childhood which disappear upon your waking again, before you can grasp them properly, like the sand of your youth slipping through your fingers.

Mama Melina is a woman of science. She’s always considered herself a grounded person. She doesn’t concern herself with what she doesn’t understand, or care for (namely whatever she cannot see for certain with her own two eyes) to the extent that this is the path her career has taken, and is now what feeds her children. She is, objectively, an intellectual woman. Her analytical methods of thinking have led to scientific breakthroughs in her area of expertise, and she is renowned as an expert at her job. She did not reach this point through belief in the spiritual, or abstract. Hell, being raised in an orphanage herself, she didn’t even really believe in true romantic love until Alexi bore his whole earnest heart to her.

One day, when you were young, you came home from school and, with frightening nonchalance, came home and asked if one of your classmates had been correct in saying that people who kissed others of the same gender were hell-headed sinners. Melina abruptly halted her mundane household task and sat you down, taking one of your hands in hers.

“Sin is a fairytale,” she told you, as delicately as she could. “Nobody knows for certain whether sin or God or heaven or hell are real. To believe that is a choice, a leap of faith which certain people make. But all we know for certain is what’s here now, да? Like I am real, you are real,” she cupped your little face between her warm hands and squeezed gently, making you wrinkle your nose and wriggle happily, “Baba and Yelena are real. But sin is thing you choose to believe in. It is made up stories to make us feel better about death but it does not matter, малыш. What matters is what we do now, when we are alive, not what we do to secure a place in an afterlife that might not exist, eh? We are kind to each other now while we live because we know it to be true that we’re alive. To tell someone else who to kiss was wrong and unkind of that boy at school. Worry about the afterlife once you get there, да? If you want to kiss girls, kiss girls. No one who is kind or worth your time will care.”

She kissed the top of your head before standing back up and returning to her cleaning. No more words were exchanged on the prospect, but from that day onward it has appeared to be common knowledge in the household that you like girls, and that Melina is not a fan of religion justifying bigotry.

In all honesty, she is not a fan of anything that’s not an irrefutable truth. Science is her preferred method of explanation for any problem that may occur. But as her relationship with Alexi has blossomed, and then in turn the ones she shares with her daughters too, she’s learned that facts and feelings do not have to be mutually exclusive. Some of the complexities of the human mind are far beyond her understanding, or indeed any of us — and yet this is a truth which ought to be embraced, not feared. The greatest joys in Melina’s life are its mysteries.

And so Mama Melina has never questioned the dynamic you and Natasha share; at least to her, it’s seemed crystal clear since day one that the two of you harbour affections for one another — admittedly for reasons beyond her comprehension, but it’s nonetheless undeniable to anyone who knows you like she does. She’s watched you grow all of your lives, delicately inching closer to one another like two flowers craning their necks to reach the sun. Melina long ago accepted she’ll never in this lifetime know what higher power reigns as a puppeteer over her, or understand the complexities of love, but she knows better than to pretend as if some things in this world aren’t inexplicably and cosmically connected. You and Natasha only prove this point. If she looks hard enough, Melina can see the red thread that runs from your body to her daughter’s.

Alexi, by far the romantic, wholeheartedly agrees with her, which only furthers Melina’s convictions (he would know better than her, she reasons) — although admittedly the events of the last few months have blindsided the both of them. Melina appears to be more concerned by it than her husband, though; so much so that one night she actually sits him down to ask if he even knows what’s going on, and why there’s this big gaping gulf between her daughters, tearing her family apart.

Alexi just guffaws, so full of mirth that Melina is startled. “Ah Боже мой, my love. Do not be silly, I would have to be blind to miss those daggers over dinner, no? No, do not worry, I’m understand. But love is not easy, ah? Its course has never run so smooth. Remember when I first asked out you? You were so… skittish, like little kitten, for weeks,” he recalls with shining eyes. “And look where we ended up now, ah? These are silly babies. They’ll make mistakes. They need the time that you did.”

His words soothe her, in the way that they always do. She relaxes into his comforting embrace with the knowledge that even if she’s the intellectual (and financial) breadwinner in this relationship, Alexi always knows what to say in the face of the heart’s unpredictability. Maybe he is right. Maybe everyone just needs some time.

So, despite her doubts, time is what Melina gives.

Two weeks after that conversation, Liho comes home. His fur is patchy where it’s been shorn off and started to grow back again, and one of his legs is still bound tightly, but he’s back and he’s yours. He leaps happily into your arms when he sees you (despite the yelp of alarm Melina makes) and it’s like he never left. Yelena comes the closest to you that she’s been in weeks to pet his head while he’s curled up against your chest, and she even allows a smile to escape. You can’t help but smile back, like the beginning of spring after a long harsh winter, hope blossoming in your chest once again.

In the time that it’s taken him to come home, other things have happened too. Natasha’s nose, displaced by the punch Yelena successfully laid on her, heals quickly. Your relationship does not. Something unspoken festers between the two of you, hardening and shrinking and blackening into a sickening nothingness. You can’t look at her now without the taste of something bitter filling your mouth — and yet that boiling hot liquid rage still fills your chest when you think of her with someone else. How is it possible to love someone so much but hate them at the same time? You wish, more than anything, that none of this happened. You wish she would just let you love her without having to ruin it for the both of you.

It’s such an indescribably lonely feeling that the two of you are like this now, when only a short time ago the two of you bore open hearts to one another — well, you gave yours to Natasha, anyway. The more you think about it the less of her you have ever known. She’s a stranger to you. Quite a few times since prom night she’s tried to speak to you — offering another half-assed apology, no doubt — but you’ve only ever shut her down. What is there left to say? Nothing that you want to hear, for sure.

(And maybe the things that still hang heavy in the air between you are better left unsaid.)

A few days after Liho comes home you’re laid on your bed in the attic, with your baby boy himself curled comfortably on your chest, purring away merrily as you scratch at his head. There’s some soft music on in the background but neither of you are really doing much. You’re just trying to enjoy his company, (and he’s evidently enjoying yours,) now that you know not to take it for granted.

The scare you’ve had with him has shifted your perspective on a lot, actually — it’s been a rude but much-needed wake up call. Yelena, just like Liho, is your family, and you want to make up with her. Who knows how long either of you have left, or what might happen?

Yes, you absolutely want to be her sister again. You’re just not sure where to even start.

The knock that comes at your door is unexpected, though, and only more unexpected when you see who your mystery visitor actually is. Yelena stands in your doorway, eyes fixed on Liho on your chest. He mews happily when he sees her.

“Кот,” she says hoarsely, holding out her arms and making grabby hands. You blink, stunned for a moment at the fact that she is talking at all, let alone talking to you. This would usually be a good sign, one that she’s coming back into herself, but these naturally are unprecedented circumstances, and you can’t really be certain what anything means anymore.

Yelena steps forward, jerking you out of your trance; you shoot to your feet and kiss Liho on the forehead before holding him out to her with your hands beneath his armpits so that his legs dangle underneath him, rendering him comically long and thin. Lena scoops him up and curls him against her chest; he purrs contentedly and her eyes crinkle in quiet gratitude before she leaves, humming her song to herself.

You almost call out to her, but your body freezes. The door closes behind her you scold yourself for not reaching out, for trying to close this rift between you, but maybe you’ve not given her long enough yet.

What Yelena needs is time, you know. Her whole world has been turned upside down and she has to rebuild it piece by piece. But how much time is enough?

Well, as it turns out, you won’t have to wait much longer.

It’s the last week of school, just over five weeks now since your catastrophic prom night, and you’ve just walked out of your last final. Sam Wilson is waiting for you outside the doors with your favourite flavour of popsicle in his hand, and is already busily consuming his own. When he spots you he waves a broad hand merrily, and you make your way over to him.

“I’m sure you aced it, squirt,” he says before you can even open your mouth, and offers you the popsicle. Unfortunately you’re all too familiar to Ohio’s stifling summer air, making every thought or movement damp and groggy. You accept it gratefully.

Your core friendship group, which you’ve been in for years now, has been pretty turbulent since things went down between you and Yelena. Pairing that with finals and early graduations, you can feel a permanent shift occurring, and it’s frightening. Everyone’s still making  effort to maintain contact with you, but this change on top of everything else has you feeling like you’re drowning when you think too long about it.  It seems like you never know what are the golden days until they’re gone. (You got twelve golden years with Yelena, but is that where it ends? Will she ever tolerate your presence in her life again?)

Someone who you couldn’t be more grateful for throughout all of this is Sam. One day not long after everything happened you came to him crying, and confessed everything. He patted your back with an aura of awkward concern until your sobs subsided, at which point all he had to offer was, “Huh. Well, I guess that explains why prom night went to shit.”

You can’t help but admire the way that he takes everything in his stride. Nothing fazes him. It’s welcome after spending so long around Natasha, who’s constantly on edge, worried someone else might see her with you. Sam is so unbothered, just being in his presence is calming. He’s become a good and valued friend to you.

“That was your last final,” he reminds you, bringing you back to the present moment. “You’re free now for the whole summer.”

“Oh fuck yeah, man,” you say as the realisation dawns on you.

“How’d you want to celebrate?”

You look up at him and a toothy grin takes root on his face as he realises what you’re about to say.

“Arcade,” you say and he nods fervently in agreement. In recent times you’ve become its most loyal patrons; you retreat there often after classes, whether it’s to recuperate from a bad day or celebrate a good one. Today, thankfully, appears to be the latter.

“Arcade,” he repeats happily, and the two of you amble off out of the school gates and down the hill toward the centre of town, where the Boulevard housing the arcade is located. You chat happily for a little while, about your plans for the summer and what you might do together.

“And, uh… any updates on your… anything?” he asks delicately. It’s a vague question but of course you know what he means.

“Not really.” You deflate a little. “I’m not sure Lena wants me around anymore, to be honest.”

“I’m sure she does,” Sam consoles with a startling certainty. “Seriously. What about Natasha?”

You just shake your head. “I don’t want to… I can’t. Not until Lena…”

“Gives you the okay,” he nods understandingly.

“Yeah, I guess. But until she’s sorry, too. She was really mean,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I get that. It’ll be okay, man.”

You’re not so sure about that, but before you can express this you cross the road and the two of you have reached the arcade, where your troubles are promptly forgotten.

Sam’s words are very quickly proven correct, though — within only a few hours. You arrive home from your arcade trip with some silly winnings tucked under your arm and a smile on your face. It is Friday night, date night for Melina and Alexi, so a car is missing from the driveway and the kitchen is empty as you enter.

Perfect, you think to yourself, and begin to fix yourself some food. These days you’re very careful not to venture into the communal areas of the house unless you’re sure you won’t be treading on anyone else’s toes. You kind of feel like a burden as it is — you’re not a proper part of this family anyway, not in the way that everyone else is — and you don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable in their own home. So you’ve moved bedrooms and now you meticulously strategise what times you’ll make an expedition down to the kitchen. (Sometimes, when you’ve not had a chance to eat yet, you’ll open your bedroom door to a plate of chocolate chip pancakes in front of you. Everyone in the house denies knowledge when asked but you have your suspicions of who’s behind it.)

Sometimes you think about moving back to the place where you were born, but you’re not sure if you could stomach that. That feels like a forever choice. There’s no going back from that.

Liho pads up to you, excited that you’re home and even more excited that you’re making food. Unable to help yourself, you indulge him with some chin scratches and scraps. Life’s too short, you say. Why shouldn’t you make a fuss of your boy?

He winds himself around your legs contentedly while you cook. It is just you and him and school has finished and you have the whole summer to do what you want, and you are cooking, and for the first time in a while you are able to shut off and experience a moment of complete peace.

Naturally, with the trajectory of your life at the minute, this peace does not last long.

“Is Sam Wilson your new best friend?” says a cool voice behind you. You actually yelp in alarm, and very ungracefully fumble with the piping hot utensils you’re using, burning your hand in the process. Liho hisses, and you do too, making a beeline for the sink.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you mutter half-heartedly. Yelena, now moving to stand fully in the light, just makes a noise in the back of her throat as she opens the cupboard above your head and reaches for the first-aid kit. Her face is carefully unbothered.

“I only asked a question,” she says, moving your food off of the heat. Liho claws at your ankles worriedly. You struggle to process Yelena’s words, much less the fact that she is talking to you. Did you blink and miss a chapter?

“Uh,” you rub at the back of your neck with your hand not under running water, “n-no. No, he’s not my new best friend. I don’t,” your voice drops, and you look away, “I don’t think I have one anymore.”

“You do,” she informs you matter-of-factly, hopping up onto the counter beside you and swinging her legs while you continue to bathe your hand. “If you still want one. But she is very mad at you.”

Your voice catches in your throat.

“She does love you,” Lena continues, “but she is wondering why you did things in the way you did.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You gather your thoughts. You weren’t expecting to have this talk tonight.

“I was scared,” you tell her.

“Of what?”

“Of,” you gesture between the two of you, “this. Of making things bad. I always figured it would be like a,” you tilt your head back to keep from crying, because now would be a stupid time to cry, “a stupid schoolgirl crush, you know? She never even spoke to me, I was just her little sister’s dumb best friend, but then things happened and it was so fast and I was so scared. And I wanted to tell you but she… didn’t. She only wanted me when no one else could see. I guess I hoped that she would — come around, eventually, and then I wouldn’t be lying anymore.” You’re heaving with the effort to not cry. “I was wrong.”

“All this time the mystery girl was treating you like shit, you could have told me who it was,” Yelena implores. “I love my sister but she makes me sad also. She can be a dick, absolutely. She’s the worst. Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“She’s your family,” you choke. “I couldn’t cause a— a rift or a problem like that. And what if you believed her over me? And it kept getting worse, and —”

“Сестра,” she leans over, cupping your damp face between her hands and forcing you to look at her, “I would always believe you. Always. Never before have you given reason to not.”

You nod tearfully, and she lets go. The only noise is the running water for a few moments.

“That is probably long enough under tap,” Lena murmurs, turning it off and taking your injured hand in her lap. Opening the first aid kit, she begins to dress the burn. “I am sorry for making you jump.”

“I am sorry for everything else,” you reply honestly. “I was stupid.”

“Yes,” she agrees bluntly. Then, “Natalia was stupider.” When you look up in open surprise, she rolls her eyes. “Close your mouth, you will catch flies. Of course she was stupid, she has fumbled so hard. You,” she pinches your cheek affectionately, “are a catch. I am not even into all of this, but if I was a dater we would be together and I would treat you like four million times better than she does.”

“You already do,” you say quietly, looking down at your hand in her lap as she continues to bandage it.

“Oh absolutely, I am the best.”

Another, much longer, pause. She finishes wrapping your hand, and pats it three times to notify you that she’s done, the exact same way that Mama Melina does. The action makes your heart swell and eyes fill with unexpected tears.

“Do you know why I was so upset by all of it?” she asks unexpectedly. You blink in surprise. This feels like a trick question.

“Because… I lied?”

“Because you picked Natasha over me,” she tells you.

“No I didn’t— what?”

“Yes, you did,” she says, and she’s a little choked all of a sudden. “All of my life Natasha has been the one who everyone looks at first. She is the special one. You are the only one I had first, who was mine. My близнец. And then I find out that for months you have been lying and picking her over me instead. When she is mean, she is so mean sometimes, yes I love her but she is not much like when we were kids anymore, she is so mean. But everyone likes her more than me. Even you.” She turns away.

“No, no I don’t,” you rush to her side, unable to help it now, scooping her close to you. “No I don’t. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. It was stupid to think she’d ever love me, I shouldn’t have— and I shouldn’t have left you out of it. I think I was trying to protect you? I don’t know. You’re always the one to protect me and punch everyone else, I think I was trying to stop you from getting hurt. And her? But it was dumb. Very dumb.”

“Very, very dumb,” Yelena agrees.

“The dumbest.”

“You have broken world record, кролик.”

You laugh a little tearfully, and while Yelena’s arms are wrapped around you she feels it throughout her body. She revels in the feeling of you holding her and loving her again, after the longest time.

“So we are back from the store?” she asks hopefully after a moment. It takes you a moment to process what she means.

“Oh,” you laugh, “we were never there. You will always be my favourite person, Yelena Belova-Shostakov.”

“Okay.” She exhales in relief. “Good. Just, because — well, you know, we have not spoke in so long and you didn’t think you had a best friend, and—”

“No— what? No,” you frown, “that was me giving you space to process and heal. I wasn’t sure you’d want me back,” you laugh. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I promise.”

“I will always want you back,” she says in a small, content voice. “I will always want you home. With me. Not at store.”

“Not at the store,” you repeat.

And just like that, you have your best friend again.

One familial bond repaired doesn’t mean all of them, though — and Yelena’s relationship with her sister has been patchy recently, to put it mildly. In your eyes it’s a plus that they haven’t outright fistfought in the way that they absolutely would if they were any younger, but Mama Melina doesn’t seem to see things that way.

A few days after you and Yelena make up, the two of you along with your parents are sat around the dinner table. At the very least Melina is able to fuss over her twins again, and Alexi is able to once again boom “here comes trouble” whenever the two of you enter a room together. They both take great pleasure in it,  much to Yelena’s entertainment and your endearment. You love your parents.

The conversation halts when the front door slams, though. Natasha appears in the kitchen doorway for a second before processing the scene in front of her and slowly backing away, back out of sight.

“What is this about?” Alexi calls after her through a mouthful of food. “Come eat, love.”

There is no response, only footsteps on the stairs.

“Our daughters hate each other,” Melina sighs heavily. When you and Yelena look up at her, she clarifies, “no, not you two. You and Natasha.” She pinches Lena’s cheek.

“We do not hate each other,” Yelena says placidly, much to everyone’s surprise. “I am just angry at her. We will be fine.”

Natasha, who is still within earshot at the top of the stairs, feels her heart skip a beat at this and thinks to herself that just maybe Yelena is ready to be receptive to her attempts at reconnection. Her only issue is she has no idea how to facilitate it. She’s done all the things she can think of, aside from straight up cornering her younger sister — she leaves offerings of food at her door and texts  her when the Kardashians are on the TV — but all of it has been treated with nonchalance that’s left her bewildered as to what her next step should be.

Yelena’s got her covered, though.

It’s her turn to strike, she knows, and again she chooses to do it when her sister will least expect it. Nat traipses home late one night, exhausted from cheer practice that overran. (Their next game is the last of the season, and her last cheer match ever considering she’s graduating this summer, so this semester’s team captain Sharon is determined they go out with a bang — even if that bang is a cheerleader toppling from the pyramid out of sheer exhaustion.) She mumbles her greetings and goodnights to Melina and Alexi, who are huddled around a decanter of whiskey in the study with Liho, and stumbles upstairs. All the lights are off up here, and she figures you and Yelena are probably settling down for the night. With a long, wistful look up the spiral staircase towards your firmly closed door, she trudges into her own (pitch-black) room. When she flicks on the light, though, she shrieks in horror. Sat expectantly at the foot of her bed is a long-limbed and blonde-headed figure, with hands folded neatly in its lap.

“Good evening, сестра,” greets the figure, sometimes known as Yelena Belova, with vaguely ominous nonchalance.

Natasha leans back against the door and closes her eyes in a desperate attempt to revert her heart rate to normal. Her first instinct as an older sister is to yell at her to get the fuck out, but in light of recent events this probably wouldn’t be the wisest of choices. Instead, she clamps her mouth tightly shut as she attempts to regain herself.

“I don’t,” she pants after a moment, “I haven’t— what? Hi. What?”

“You should really get a better lock,” Yelena says amusedly. “Very easy to pick.”

“You don’t have to break in,” Natasha grumbles, letting her bag slide to the floor and flopping backwards onto the bed. “Just knock.”

“No fun.” Yelena pokes Nat’s thigh with her toe just like she would when they were kids and for a moment they’re both young again. But she blinks, and the moment is gone, and now they’re two almost-adults with an entire universe between them.

Natasha just groans and flops back to stare up at her ceiling. A few years back you and Yelena helped her paint it blue and now it looks like the sky. It makes her smile when she’s sad sometimes. Yelena joins her, and the two cloudgaze for a moment.

“Why are you in my room?” Natasha asks quietly.

“To annoy you,” Lena quips.

“Success.”

“And to talk,” she continues.

“Also success. We are talking.”

The blonde lunges for her, and Natasha rolls away playfully. “No, I’m serious. Real talking.”

“Alright, I’m all ears.” Nat puts her hands behind her ears and pushes them forward to emphasise her point — again, like they would when they were kids.

“I want to know what you were intending when you started dating Y/N,” Yelena says, and Nat’s stomach drops. She knew this was coming, she knew this was where the conversation would lead, but she was still hoping to stall it for as long as possible just for the joy that her sister is talking to her again. The excitement is short-lived, though.

“We were never dating,” she reminds her quietly.

“Why not?”

The bluntness of the question makes Natasha stop short.

“Because it just, didn’t work out like that, I guess,” she tries. Yelena remains eerily stony.

“It’s not nice to lie to your baby sister, Natalia.”

Natasha deflates. “Because w— because I’m a fucking idiot. I don’t know what you want me to say. I know I messed up.”

“Step one is awareness,” Yelena nods sagely, while Nat grits her teeth. “So what are you going to do about it?”

She shrugs. “Graduate, and leave town, I guess. You and Y/N are twins again now, and I caused all these problems, so once I leave things should be fixed.”

“Untrue and false,” the blonde interrupts sharply. “That is lie. Y/N/N is crushed. This will not magically be fix if you take off for college.”

“But it will help,” Natasha insists.

“No it won’t,” Yelena pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, “oh my god, how are you so stupid. She is in love with you, and she is so patient with you, she is not even angry. Which I would be, by the way, but she’s not. She’s only sure you don’t want her.”

“Huh? But I do.”

“No, like wanting her,” Yelena says gently. “As a whole. Like… unity, ah? Влюбленный. She feels so not good enough for you, and every day you are prove her right. You take only what you want from her and leave the rest. That is not what love is. She feels not loved by you, and that you only like her for the things she can offer you.”

“Oh. But I didn’t mean to,” Natasha says tearfully. Suddenly she is very small, and she draws her knees up to her chest. “I was only… Lena, маленький, I didn’t know what to do.”

“The answer seems pretty simple,” the blonde observes astutely, “all you had to do was either tell her you love her and want to be with her, or tell her it is over. You can’t keep having things in your way forever. She has feelings too, and the relationship cannot be on just your terms. She is not a doll, or toy.”

“I do,” she says hoarsely. “I do, t- the first one. It’s- I do. But I’m so…” She raises a pale trembling palm to run a hand through her hair, inhaling shakily, and with a blink of surprise Yelena realised how scared her older sister truly is.

“What is so terrifying?” she asks tenderly.

“Y/N is a girl.”

Yelena almost laughs at the confession but is able to refrain, and is proud of her capability to do so upon seeing just how agitated her company is over the subject. “Is this all that holds you back? Nobody would care. Ma and Daddy wouldn’t. This is not end of the world.”

“No, you don’t get it,” says Natasha fiercely. “Ever since I came to America... you were here first, you and Y/N, and you just get to be you. You have who you are. But I don’t know who I am, so I have to — do all the American girl things. I have to fit in. I don’t have a Y/N. And American girls don’t kiss girls.”

Yelena stops to consider this. It’s true that Natasha has always put far, far more effort into fitting in and Westernising herself more than she or their parents ever did. Yelena is perfectly content with her slightly broken English and her raspy accent and her life of in-betweenness. She’s okay with being from two places. To her, when she looks in the mirror, that is Yelena Belova. They’re just parts of who she is. She’s never even stopped to consider those as potential insecurities — not when she had other things and feelings (or lack thereof) to worry about. How could something so unchangeable be a source of doubt? And yet here she now sits, struggling to wrap her head around this invisible binary which has suffocated her sister for so many years.

“But you are not… what?” she says confusedly. “You did have a Y/N. All of this… you’re being someone else. I knew something felt strange. I do not understand why? I like who you are before. It wasn’t bad. I like Natalia.”

This seems to break Nat, who buries her face in her hands. Yelena lets out a motherly cluck of sympathy and scoots closer to loop a gangly arm around her sister.

“I just want to be normal,” breathes Natasha.

“But it is not worth all this,” Yelena says, squeezing her sister tightly to her chest. “What does normal even mean? Being cool is not the most important, Natalia. Everybody liking you doesn’t… fix you not liking yourself.” She cringes at her own words, reminding herself a little too much of Darcy’s Pinterest feed, but the words seem to ring true with Nat, at least.

“I am just so scared,” Nat says in a small voice. “And I think I’ve made this so bad it can’t be fixed.”

Yelena pulls away to look her sternly in the eyes. “Things can always be fixed. Maybe not in ideal way you want them to be, but we can always make amends. But you have to be sorry.”

“I am,” Natasha cries, “I am sorry.”

Yelena holds her. “I know.”

She’s not so sure you know it, though.

Maybe somewhere deep down, you do. You see it in the saddened smiles Nat offers you whenever she steps out of your way or leaves a room so you can use it. You see it in the way she brings your favourite snacks home and leaves them in the pantry without word or question, like she doesn’t even expect you to notice. You see it even in the absence of her; in the way that she gives you space, quietly leaving rooms when you enter them so you can use them despite the fact that you can feel in the air how much she wants to stop and talk to you. Sure, you can tell that she’s sorry. But you’re not sure that she knows what she’s sorry for.

You’re not sure she knows how badly she’s really hurt you, with her every move stabbing into you repeatedly over a course of months. Now that the knife is turned on her and she’s the one in exile, a selfish part of you wants to leave her there, just so she knows what it’s like. You guess that’s kind of what you’re doing now. You know this can’t go on forever though. In a couple of months Natasha leaves for out-of-state college, which she announced over dinner a few nights ago. You had to excuse yourself from the table to process that information. Your time is limited, you know, and it’s clear what Natasha wants (to kiss and make up) — but what do you want? To leave this wound untreated, festering for the next eternity? Or to allow yourself peace and let this go?

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” you half-heartedly complain to Yelena one night as the two of you wash the dishes. “It’s not fair.”

“Because you are the bigger person,” Yelena laughs. “Natalia has given you the control. The next move is on you. That’s just the way it is, if it’s fair or no.” She whips you playfully with her tea towel, and the conversation moves on without further incident.

The issue plays on your mind long after the words are spoken, though. Whether you like it or not, Yelena is right. The next move’s on you. But how are you meant to make that call? What is the right move to make?

Well, one of Natasha’s friends appears very opinionated on the subject. 

On a particularly warm afternoon, you and Yelena stroll into town, and stop off at May Parker’s ice cream parlour — the best in town.

“Ah,” Yelena grimaces, as you draw close to its glass windows, “it is so busy in there. I go in, you wait out here?” 

You smile at her gratefully, and she disappears inside. 

“Y/L/N!” a voice calls out behind you, and you turn around to see Bucky Barnes making a beeline for you. He’s about twice your size in every way imaginable, and you gulp. 

“Hi?” you say uncertainly. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken to him in your life.

“What’s up with you and Romanov?” Well, he’s straight to the point. 

You flounder, mouth opening and shutting, and he’s gracious enough to continue, “look, I know you and her are a thing. Were. I don’t know, she’s being so weird about it. It’s okay, it’s okay, I was her beard. And she was mine,” he adds, gesturing over at Steve Rogers, who’s stood on the other side of the road waiting patiently for his boyfriend. He smiles and waves amiably on cue. 

You blink. “And no one thought to inform me?” 

He shrugs. “Not my place. I think it is my place, though, to ask what’s got her so torn up. You and her fallen out? I’ve never seen her like this. I’on know what to do.”

He may not mean it menacingly, but he’s towering over you and you’re finding it hard to breathe. “She was an asshole, dude,” you say, perhaps a little more defensively than you envisioned. “She wasn’t nice to me and we weren’t even together, because she didn’t see me like that. So yeah, I guess we fell out.”

He frowns, deeply, and takes a moment to process this. “Oh. That… but she does feel that way about you.”

“It’d be nice if she’d show it,” you say bitterly. 

His face softens. “Maybe… Look, even if the two of you don’t work it out proper, wouldn’t it be easier to at least clear the air? She likes you so much. She just wants you in her life, I think.”

You look at him uncertainly for a moment, but he holds your gaze earnestly. You know him and Natasha are relatively close, and you don’t see why he’d lie about something like this. It’s definitely tempting to believe.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll bear that in mind.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, but you feel a hand on your shoulder and instantly recognise Yelena’s presence just behind you. “What is going on?”

“Just talking,” says Bucky smoothly, but it seems apparent that the moment is over. “See you around, kid.” He crosses the road back to Steve.

“Kid,” you mutter, “he’s one grade older than me.” 

“What did he want?” Yelena asks you, and you relay your strange interaction to her. “Oh. Well, he is probably right, but I’m not sure how much it means coming from Natasha’s ex.”

“Were they really together?” you ask, your stomach turning at the thought. Wouldn’t that co-occur with your and her relationship? “He said he was her beard.”

She shrugs. “Not my expertise. Come on, the ice cream will melt.”

You don’t see Bucky Barnes again for the weeks that follow, although you can’t help but wonder what he meant, and what he was trying to achieve. (And a little part inside of you thinks that maybe he could be right.)

“Ma?” says Natasha suddenly. “How did you know you loved Alexi?”

It’s late at night, and the two of them are on the car ride home from Nat’s last cheer game of the season. (At her request it was not a family affair, despite Alexi’s insistence that it was his right to make a fuss of his talented daughter’s performance at her last high school cheer game.) The roads are empty and the towns are sleepy, but Natasha’s question has Melina wide awake.

“Eeh… it was not like a revelation. I did not wake up one day with new clarity. It came to me over time. It took me long time to accept, though. Your father is very patient man.”

“But was there anything specific?” Natasha persists.

Melina purses her lips in thought. “Well, when I met him I was not trusting person. One time when we were in the kind of in between bit right before being proper couple, ah —”

“The talking stage,” Nat supplies helpfully.

“— yes, да. We were in that, nothing proper but something, and he went to touch me and I had a… panic? I shut down. Achh, моя любовь, I was still figuring out who I was and what I did and didn’t like and… still growing up and healing from when I was kid. I was scared.”

Natasha nods solemnly. There are some childhood experiences which, despite unspoken, bind she and her mother at the soul.

“So I freak out, and I expected him to… belittle or leave, or something. But he stays and he is so patient, he apologise for making me jump and fetch me tea, and I thought like wow, he is so gentle. And he is not like the other men I known.”

Again, Natasha nods. Gentle is the perfect descriptor for her father. He’s the most wonderful man she’s ever met.

“So we spent more time together, he was patient with me and always caring. That was the time that I knew I would fall in love with him. But I’m not really know when it happened. Maybe by then it already had, ah? I have only ever had eyes for him. He make me feel… valued, and worthy.”

Natasha just hums in response, for she’s suddenly and embarrassingly on the verge of violent sobbing. She blames Ma and Baba and their beautiful relationship. Nothing else.

“Is this about Y/N?” Melina asks quietly. Natasha opens her mouth to reply and there it is, just as she feared, the waterworks are unleashed. Ma sighs heavily and pulls over.

“Идите сюда,” she says, holding her arms out, and Natasha crawls into them. She rocks her daughter back and forth, exactly how she used to so many years ago when the girl was half this size, while Nat’s face is buried in her mother’s neck. They stay like that for a while, until Natasha’s tears begin to die down.

“Do you want to go and get milkshakes?” Melina breaks the silence. Natasha hums her assent.

The 24-hour diner isn’t far from where they’ve pulled over, and it’s almost empty at this time of night. With no words exchanged Melina orders Natasha’s usual, or what was her usual when she was a kid — a strawberry milkshake and fries. A young Natasha decided strawberry was her favourite as soon as she found out that pink was a girl’s colour. Thinking about that now, especially with the hindsight of her conversation with Yelena, has her stomach turning a little. How long has she been letting her view of the world colour every single choice that she makes? Which parts of her are really her, and which are the ones she’s willed into existence?

It’s a scary line of questioning, and Natasha can feel herself beginning to spiral. No more, she tells herself. Yelena was probably right about needing to get to know herself — and learning her real favourite flavour of milkshake seems a manageable starting point.

“Can I have the caramel one?” she asks Melina gruffly, pointing at the menu. Her mama just nods and alters their order accordingly.

They sit at their usual booth and eat in a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the occasional “pass the ketchup”s. Once they’ve finished, though, and Melina can sense her daughter has calmed enough to leave, she turns and says to her, “Love isn’t easy thing to admit. But it’s… not something to be ashamed of. When it comes, just let it happen. It’s scary, but it does not make you weaker, ah? It will do you no good to push it away.” She hesitates, but then seems satisfied with what she’s said. She turns on her heel and heads back out to the car. Natasha, dumbfounded, follows her.

When they finally make it home, Alexi is snoring away upstairs and you’re on the sofa with Yelena sprawled on top of you, fast asleep. You’re wide awake, though, and look up as the two of them come in.

“Night, ma,” Natasha murmurs to her mother, kissing her cheek before tiptoeing off to bed. Melina hums at the action and pads into the living room toward her twins.

“Hi ma,” you chirp, voice a little husky. “Everything okay?”

Your mama nods, and holds out a brown paper bag. “We stopped at diner. Got your favourite. Some for Lena too.”

Your eyes crinkle up into half-moons as you smile at her in gratitude, and Melina smiles back fondly, her chest filling with warmth. “Thank you.”

She kisses Yelena’s forehead, who does not stir, and then yours, lingering for a moment.

“I love you,” she tells you sincerely, and a fierceness glimmers in her gaze that you’re not quite sure what to do with. “We all do.”

“I love you too,” you tell her honestly. You only hope you’re matching her intensity. She holds your gaze for a moment longer as if searching for something within it,  then nods, seemingly satisfied, and retreats upstairs to join Alexi, leaving you alone with a meal to demolish, a slumbering blonde pinning you to the sofa and many, many thoughts.

A few days after that conversation, you wander into the backyard (Melina’s carefully pruned pride and joy) to pet Liho, who’s basking peacefully in the summer evening sun.

“Careful of the flowerbed,” you warn as he flexes his claws and kicks his legs happily. “Someone will suffer if Ma’s roses are ruined.”

He huffs in what could be agreement, and you toe absently at the sandy dirt you and Yelena used to play in.

A gentle creaking sounds from somewhere nearby. It’s a noise that makes you feel ten years younger, and curiously, you rise to your feet.

At the far end of the backyard, nestled among the pines and pratia, is the swing set Alexi built a little while after Yelena first moved in. It’s a little haggard-looking, as when Natasha came to America Alexi bodged a third swing so all of you could play together, but to his credit it’s still held up all these years. Sure, it doesn’t get so much use anymore, but sometimes when one of you is feeling a little down you’ll revisit the simpler times of your childhood.

This seems to be what you’ve stumbled upon Natasha doing now. She’s sat on the middle swing (which in times gone by was your swing, as the middle spot often was when you were a kid, so both siblings got to be next to you), rocking back and forth gently as she cradles something small in her hands, turning it over. She’s lost in thought. Wondering if you’ve intruded on something private, you begin to slowly pace away. When you catch sight of what it is in her hands, though, your stomach turns; a small and glistening pink rock, rubbed smooth by years of love.

“You kept that?” you ask quietly. Natasha’s head shoots up and she takes note of your appearance in the same way that a deer takes note of rapidly approaching headlights. Her mouth opens as she fumbles for words, but she just settles for nodding vigorously before lowering her gaze to her lap again.

You don’t really know what to think, or do. You hesitate for a moment, and find yourself thinking of Bucky’s advice — wouldn’t it be easier to clear the air? This tension is suffocating. With this on your mind, you seem to surprise Natasha as much as yourself when your feet march you over to the swing on your left, and your knees bend to seat you. Her entire body tenses as yours nears her. You can tell that, since you’ve gone to great lengths to escape her company recently, this is the last thing she expected. (In all honesty you weren’t really expecting this either. What now?)

“You know that I’m in love with you, right?” Natasha says suddenly, and you freeze. Your chest tightens, and it’s like she’s wrapped herself around it, claiming your breath as her own.

“That’s not funny,” you reply in a small voice. “Don’t— don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Play with me like that.”

Her stomach lurches. “I’m being serious.”

You’re quiet for a moment. “Were you and Bucky ever actually together?”

“What?”

“Bucky Barnes. Were you with him when you were with me, too?” 

“N- no,” she says with vehement certainty. “I was — well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but when him and Steve were a secret I was his cover story. And I guess he was mine, so that I could… yeah.” She gestures towards you, pressing her lips together. 

“But even after they came out I was still a secret.”

“I—” Natasha says, and buries her face in her hands for a moment, because this is not how she hoped this would go. “Yes. And that was wrong of me. I’m sorry. I think I was trying to protect you, and me, and you from me because I know how messy I can be, and I wanted you so bad but I didn’t want to drag you down with me. And I still did anyway.” She sighs heavily.

“That’s an interesting way of showing affection,” you quip. 

“I know,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry. I know I haven’t shown it well — at all — and I don’t really blame you for not believing me. Or, uh, hating me.”

“I don’t hate you,” you say softly.

Her shoulders sag. “Oh. W— well that’s good, then.”

“But I wish I did,” you add.

“No, yeah. That’s fair.”

“You’re really mean.”

Natasha just nods.

“And it’s even worse because I can’t even hate you because you can also be really nice.”

She nods again uncertainly. She’s not really sure how to respond to that.

“Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you so mean sometimes?”

This makes her stop up short. The way that both you and Yelena never fail to cut to the chase or ask the questions that nobody else would will always catch her off guard. “It’s kind of just who I am,” she begins, but at the way your face scrunches she adds, “or who I’ve decided to be, anyway. I don’t really know. I’m not sure… who I am.” Even uttering the statement aloud is a weight lifted from her shoulders. “It’s scary. I guess I… I thought that, like, I have to be the mean one, or someone else will first. To me. You know?”

“Why would anyone be mean to you?”

“Because I like girls,” she says truthfully, and there’s a tremor to her voice.. “And I’m not from here.”

You stare at her. “…? I like girls, and Yelena isn’t from here. No one is mean to us for it.”

“Because Yelena can and will beat the shit out of anyone that tries something,” Nat snorts. “But I just… I don’t know. It’s different for me.” You nod encouragingly and she adds with reluctance, “I don’t— belong here, not really. Or anywhere. I’m too American to be Russian and too Russian to be American. Ma and Baba and Yelena have it figured out, they’re just both and themselves and they don’t even have to think about it. But that’s not so easy for me.”

“Maybe,” you say carefully, “it’s to do with the people you choose to surround yourselves with. Is it possible that you’re… spending time with the wrong people? If you’re made to feel as though these things make you lesser.”

She shrugs. “Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that I just… I really don’t have a lot going for me. So I kinda pretend that I do, and then it gets out of hand and I’ve convinced myself that I’m a lot more interesting than I am, to the point that I don’t know who me is. And I get all freaked out. And I’m so scared I kind of just shut off and try not to think, so I guess I’m just an asshole instead. Like it’s a reflex, you know? But it’s not really me. Nothing is me. My entire life is one perpetual identity crisis.” She drops her gaze to toe at the ground.

Your swing comes to a still as you clasp one of her hands between both of yours. They’re warm and perfectly manicured, and her eyes light up at the contact. “You don’t have to know who you are. You just have to exist, and you find out. I’m learning things about myself all the time, and so is Lena. This was my first relationship —” Nat’s stomach drops at the use of the word was “— and I’ve learnt a lot about myself and how I like to be treated. And Lena only came to terms with being aroace this year. Even Ma only just decided she’s demi,” you point out, and Nat can’t help but smile at this. (A little while ago, after Yelena first came out, you and Melina began joining her in attending weekly meetings at the local youth centre for young queer people and their parents. Your mama was determined to be a more educated advocate for her three queer daughters. Very recently, with all this new terminology at her disposal, she dropped into a dinnertime conversation in the presence of the whole family that she thinks she’s demi. “Not that it matters,” she added, “the only one for me is your father,” and she kissed his beaming crinkly cheek with a motherly tenderness. It was a beautiful moment to witness, despite Yelena’s playful booing.)

“I guess,” she says quietly. “Um, I’ve been talking to someone. Professional,” she adds at the look on your face. “Yelena said some stuff that made me realise I probably shouldn’t sort through this alone.”

“Yes, you shouldn’t,” you nod. Natasha raises an eyebrow at your ready agreement. “It’s not something to be ashamed of. Lena sees someone. I do too.”

She blinks. “Really?”

“Yes,” you laugh, “Baba takes me every other Thursday. I have horrible abandonment issues. I guess after everything that’s happened, I’ve kinda internalised some stuff.”

“I definitely took advantage of that,” Nat says guiltily. “I’m sorry. Honestly, I am.”

You look at her. “I know.” Your hand squeezes hers before letting go and she instantly aches to feel it again. “I’m sorry, too. For not… I don’t know, setting more boundaries. Or being more forceful.”

“No, no, it wasn’t your fault.”

You hum, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while as the sun begins to retire.

“You know,” you say suddenly, “you don’t have to move across the country. You can if you want, obviously, it’s your call, but if it’s just because of me… you don’t have to.”

“But-? I’m trying to give you space? To heal,” she says confusedly, and you laugh.

“And it’s very sweet, but I don’t need that much space. I’ve already forgiven you.”

Natasha’s soul leaves her body. “You— huh?”

“I have,” you laugh kindly. “I did some of my own thinking, and I just… I don’t know. I don’t think you need me being mad at you, on top of everything else going on in here.” You tap at her temple gently to emphasise your point, and she shivers. “And I don’t think I need that either. I don’t want to carry that with me.”

“Okay,” Natasha breathes. “T— thank you.”

You wrinkle your nose at her affectionately. “You’re silly.”

She’s awash with the overwhelming need to kiss you, and instead twitches a little, digging her nails into her palm. You take in the movement with such wide-eyed concern that she has to close her eyes for a moment, because she’s almost ill with how much she feels for you. This feeling only grows more intense as you continue.

“I know we’re… whatever we are, but… if there’s anything I can do for you, let me know,” you say more quietly. “I know you’ve been through some stuff, and even when you’re seeing someone for it it can get overwhelming. I do care about you.”

She nods, and swallows thickly. “ I don’t— I— uhm. What does this make us?”

You can hear her hopes heavy on her tongue, and your heart is like lead. “Friends?” you offer. “I— I don’t think we should be anything else, right now.”

Natasha nods, and swallows thickly. With it she swallows back the words but I love you. It must be written across her face, though, because you cup it between your hands (which really isn’t helping her self-restraint at all).

“I love you,” you tell her honestly. “And I always have. But love isn’t… you don’t… I don’t know. That kind of love is something that you earn, I think. And we both need to take care of ourselves.”

“I understand.” Natasha’s voice is hoarse, and barely above a whisper. “And I want you to feel like I respect your decision. But I also want you to feel like I’m serious. About you. And I will prove it if I have to.”

Against your own better judgement, you smile at her.

One thing about Natasha Romanoff is that she’s not a quitter.

Some would say it’s an endearing quality. More would probably tell her it’s the reason she finds herself in so many messes in the first place. What’s objectively certain is that she’s a stubborn little shit — and and with this determination she’s decided she’s going to win you back. Your slight encouragement, no matter how vague, is enough fuel for a fire that could simmer for months.

It starts as chocolates, and flowers. At this point she seems to have cottoned onto the fact that you’re not one for big, theatrical confessions of love, but rather consistent affirmations of it. Actions, not words, she’s heard you say (although now more than ever before she’s seeing for herself what you mean). So there’s no four-act sonnet recitals when you receive her gifts — although you don’t really receive them at all, in the traditional sense. Rather they seem to begin popping up everywhere you go. At one point you open your locker to a bouquet so over-endowed that flowers begin to tumble out onto the floor. Sam steps neatly to the side and watches with glee as you scramble to clean the mess. (He’s most definitely enjoying watching all of this play out.)

Your favourite of all these surprise gifts is probably one delivered by your own four-legged Cupid himself. Liho headbutts the door to your room open and stalks in with a scowl on his face and something attached to his collar. As soon as you remove it to inspect it he rolls onto his back and looks up at you expectantly, clearly expecting compensation for this favour.

“Yes, you’re a very handsome boy,” you tell him distractedly, using one hand to rub his belly while you attempt to unfurl the note he’s delivered with the other. Yelena lets out a noise of amusement. She’s perched on your bed with the Kardashians paused on her laptop in favour of watching this play out instead.

“You are so ungraceful,” she comments mildly, making no move to help you.

“I love how you always see the best in me,” you reply through gritted teeth.

After a moment, you manage to succeed in your task. I picked these for you :), the letter reads. You glance over at Liho’s collar again to see a tiny bunch of forget-me-nots, only slightly battered from their journey and bound neatly by brown twine.

“Another gift from the mystery girl?” Yelena teases, and you groan.

“Okay, saying mystery girl is officially banned. It’s giving me war flashbacks.”

“And that is fair,” your sister muses, getting to her feet to inspect your latest delivery. After she’s done she sits back on her heels. “You don’t have to keep turning her down, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, if it’s just because of me. You have my… blessing, or whatever. But on the condition that you’re not gross about it.” She rolls her eyes, and nudges your cheek with her nose. You squirm good-naturedly.

“Why thank you, your Grace.”

“Yes, I’m the graceful one,” she preens.

“Sure,” you snort, and she smirks. “Um, thank you, though. That’s good to know. I guess I’m still… figuring it out, but she’s growing on me again.” And it’s true. You have your reservations now, but she’s trying to remind you why you first fell for her (and yeah, she might be succeeding). Part of you wonders if she’s turning on the superficiality again, but after she spilled her guts to you on the swing set you’re trying to have faith that she really is turning a new leaf, and charming you authentically.

Yelena considers this. “Yes, okay. This makes sense. Remember to tell me if she tries anything again though. I will put them up.” She raises her fists and you giggle, but you know she’s at least partially serious. She’s very athletic in her own right and people at school go out of their way to avoid crossing her. That’s how you’ve stayed out of trouble your whole life — by standing behind Yelena and letting her handle it instead. Where you hesitate, she dives right in. You adore that about her, though.

“Do you know what you’ll do once she’s out of state?” Lena asks, and you shrug.

“Figure it out as we go, I guess. I don’t know if she’ll lose interest in me.”

The blonde looks up fiercely. “If she does that I will stick them up.”

You beam at her, admittedly less for the violence and more for the sentiment behind it. She beams back for reasons more ambiguous.

“Do you know what we will do?” Yelena queries. Upon your frown she elaborates, “next year when it is our turn to pick college. You and me, what will we do?”

“Pick the same one, and both get in because we’re super smart, and we’ll be roommates. And you can make us mac and cheese every night,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

She contemplates this.

“Okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Can we hit play now? I want to know what’s happen to Kim’s diamond earring.”

“Two cookies say she gets it back.”

“Two cookies say eat my ass the way a fish ate her earring,” she retorts, and the two of you settle on the bed again. (You have two more cookies than usual after dinner.)

Despite the witticism you take Yelena’s blessing with pride, and it means a lot more to you than you let on. Now that every single member of your family has shown their support for your relationship you can’t help but feel a slight ray of hope, the likes of which you thought had been stomped out long ago. Never before have you dared to imagine a situation where you could actually have a shot with the girl of your dreams, who you’ve wanted for as long as you can remember — and yet here you are, with her putting her back out working overtime to win you over, and your family watching with interest. Every morning you wake up a little warmer to the idea of letting this happen.

That doesn’t mean Natasha’s out of the woods yet, though, and you’re careful to make this clear to her. She senses your hesitance, and completely understands its presence. She’ll wait for you as long as it takes. (She’s genuinely stunned at how forgiving you have been of her, in all honesty.) In fact she takes your reluctances in her stride in a way that actually has you feeling more for her — but again, you know better than to repeat your mistakes of the past, and so you take this as slowly as you can considering she’s coming on strong and you live under the same roof.

Three months of summer lie ahead of you, stretching out like an endless expanse of sunset-tinted possibility. You and Yelena manage to land jobs at the video store in town — Yelena goes blazing into the interview and makes it clear as she can that the two of you are a package deal. Wong, the guy who runs the place, just seems grateful for the help.

The store becomes somewhat of a hangout spot for the two of you, who work the same hours and are joined at the hip like always, and it’s a safe bet to stop by if anyone wants to find you. Sam often swings by to playfully irritate the both of you, since the marina where his parents’ boat is docked is just round the corner, and Natasha will meet you when you’re closing to take you out for dinner after. (Sometimes Yelena tags along to these meals, and gleefully revels in the awkwardness her presence causes.) Since you and Yelena are twins again too, things are looking up for your friendship group and they’ve taken to visiting also. You’re delighted to spend time with them again. (Seeing Makkari’s face light up when she steps into the Deaf & Subtitled section of the store makes your whole week.)

In fact, word seems to have gotten out about the fact that Wong’s employed you, because one sleepy Tuesday afternoon Bucky Barnes drops by to rent a DVD. He picks one at random, not even glancing at the cover, and as you scan it through for him he says to you lowly, “thank you for making Natasha happy again. She cares so much about you.” He offers you a genuine smile before heading out abruptly and almost forgetting his DVD in the process. (You suspect his purchase was a mere means to talk to you.) It’s a strange interaction, but decidedly more pleasant than your last with him, so you take it no further.

Another perk of having this job is that you have your own money now. You’re not really sure what to do with it at first; the only thing that occurs to you is that you want to get a gift for Natasha. At the end of the summer is her graduation — she’ll walk and wear the square hat and everything, and you’re very excited to embarrass her with photos of the event — and after that she’ll leave for college. Her graduation is the perfect time to present her with said gift, you decide.

You know you want the gift to be meaningful, but you’re not really sure of the specifics. Luckily for you, one night on the roof with Natasha is all you need for the inspiration to strike.

Can’t sleep, you text her one night, after hours of fruitless tossing and turning.

She replies immediately.

Me neither

Come down to my room :)

If you want to!!! she adds after a moment, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. She is adorable.

Omw, you tell her, rolling out of bed.

The door is unlocked!!!!!! just come in

You follow her instructions and slip inside. The room is cosily lit, with her fairy lights on and her little lamp shaped like Calcifer flickering merrily; the bed is unmade, as if someone’s been in it recently, but Natasha herself is nowhere to be seen.

“Nat?” you call out uncertainly, and squeak in surprise when her head pops through the window. She smiles softly at your reaction.

“I’m out here,” she tells you. “C’mon, there’s space for both of us.” She wriggles along her perch on the flat row of tiles of the roof, and pats the empty spot beside her. Antics like this don’t faze you after twelve years of friendship with Yelena. You clamber out beside her readily.

“Hi,” says Natasha a little bashfully, once you’re settled. You lean up to peck her lips and she flushes. “Y— yeah. Um, hi.”

“Hi,” you reply sweetly. “It’s nice out here.”

“It is,” she agrees, her gaze not straying from you. You take no notice, though; your sights are set to the heavens. No matter how much you snipe about how annoying it is to live in a small town, the views still take your breath away. The stars shimmer bright above you, as they do almost every night. They’re not the only beautiful sight your town has to offer; Wanda adores the rocky hills at the edge of town, where many scavengers like squirrels and raccoons have made their home (one boy in your grade, Peter Quill, has befriended one of the raccoons and affectionately named him ‘Rocket’. He visits Rocket every day after lunch with his leftovers from the cafeteria). Occasionally she’s able to convince everyone in your group to accompany her hiking there. Despite your grumbling, it does make for an enjoyable day out.

“I come out here when I can’t sleep,” she tells you quietly.

“I sit on the roof sometimes,” you reply, and you beam at each other. It’s true — you do, but sharing the information feels vulnerable. You’ve figured out how to hoist yourself up through the skylight in the loft and onto the utmost point of the house, but it’s an activity you’ve kept as your own for now. While you adore more than anything being twins with Yelena, and living your life with her, you’re also learning how to exist by yourself for the first time in your life, and enjoying having your own space. Your little corner in the attic has afforded you many freedoms, and not just material ones.

“You see the moon?” Nat asks. The planet in question hangs round and heavy over the horizon, not quite full.

“How could I miss her?” She’s the most beautiful thing in sight.

“You know the difference between waxing and waning?” Natasha prompts, and you shake your head, solely because you love when she talks about her passions. “Waxing is when the moon transitions from a new moon to a full moon — so she fills out. See, that’s what she’s doing now.”

“She’s nearly full,” you remark quietly.

“Yup.” She grins. “Now when she’s waxing, she fills in from the right side — so she kinda looks like a C.” She makes a C shape with her left hand and holds it up against the sky to confirm that, yes, while the moon is waxing it vaguely resembles the letter. “But soon she’ll start to wane — maybe next week? After the full moon. Waning is the transition from the full moon back to the new moon, so she shrinks away into nothing. She’s eaten away from the left side, so she looks like a reverse C.” Nat makes a C shape with her right hand this time, so that it’s reversed, and holds it up to compare to the moon. They don’t match up right now, but they’ll get there someday.

“This is my favourite period though,” she confesses, her voice dropping a little lower, “of the lunar cycle. When the moon is waxing.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels,” she hesitates. “I don’t know. It feels like gross to say out loud but it kinda just feels like, encouraging. Things are always changing. They won’t be like this forever, you know? The cycle keeps on repeating itself.”

“The cycle keeps on repeating itself,” you repeat, and she smiles at you.

“Yeah. You don’t think it’s… dumb? I don’t know, I’ve never brought anyone else up here. I —”

“I don’t think that at all,” you tell her, and she kisses you gently.

The next day you go out and buy a crescent moon necklace.

Natasha has been coming into your room more and more often lately, and you don’t trust yourself to not leave it lying around in plain sight, so one day while she’s out you enlist Alexi’s help to loosen one of the floorboards in the attic so you can stash things under it inconspicuously.

“It’s not for anything suspicious,” you tell him quickly, “you can look under it whenever you want. It’s just to hide gifts and —”

“Relax, sunflower,” he chuckles, “you are entitled to your secrets.”

The necklace stays hidden there until summer draws to a close.

The weeks fly by in a golden haze and before you know it, you’re getting ready for Natasha’s graduation.

Alexi is stood on the landing in his smartest suit, and flexing proudly in the mirror on the wall. “It still fits!” he booms triumphantly.

“Don’t forget to wear your nice shirt, любовь,” Melina calls up the stairs to him. “No one with holes in.” He deflates a little, and retreats back into their bedroom to change.

“He looks fine,” Yelena scolds half-heartedly as she lumbers down the stairs, holding out her wrists to Melina. “Can you do my cufflinks?”

“Where’s your please?” Melina retorts, but she sets her clutch down so she can use both hands to help her daughter.

“We have to leave in ten minutes,” Natasha announces as she bursts from her own room. “Семья, I know what you are like, and we cannot be late.”

“Relax, love.” Alexi reemerges from the bedroom in a different shirt this time. “I will go and start the car,” he starts down the stairs, “and— oh.” He pauses as several buttons pop off his shirt simultaneously. “Ебать.” He turns around and subduedly makes his way back up the stairs.

“Baba,” Natasha groans. “This is what I mean.”

“Hey! I am nearly ready,” says Yelena indignantly, nodding at her mother in thanks for doing her cufflinks before ducking in front of the mirror. “Oh shit, where is my tie?”

“Language,” reprimands Melina.

“See?” Natasha sighs exasperatedly. “Y/N/N is the only one who’s ready.” She hurries down the stairs to where you’re stood in the hall, watching the scene unfold serenely. You’ve been ready to leave for the last ten minutes. She beams at you and pecks you on the cheek just shy of your lips. You flush, and the crescent moon necklace burns a hole in your pocket. Now isn’t the time, though.

Eventually, you all make it into the car, with everyone now sporting correctly-fitting outfits. As always on car journeys, you’re in the back, sandwiched in the middle between Natasha and Yelena. Lena scrolls through her phone disinterestedly, headphones in, while Natasha vibrates on your other side with anticipation and nerves. You take one of her hands between both of yours and she stills instantly.

“I am very proud of you,” you say quietly, “to have made it this far, with these grades. You’ve gotten into your dream college. You can do anything. Today will go fine.”

She doesn’t speak for fear of bawling and potentially ruining her eyeliner, so instead she rests her head on your shoulder in silent gratitude. She doesn’t move until you arrive, at which point she shows you all to your seats (front row, you note) and disappears to the backstage meeting point for all of the graduates.

The actual ceremony doesn’t begin for a while, so Melina converses with the other parents seated around her while Alexi nods politely, and you and Yelena compete in a thumb war. Eventually Principal Rambeau steps onto the stage and a silence settles on the gathered audience.

“Thank you all for attending,” she begins. “We’re here to celebrate our wonderful seniors, who have put in so much work to make it here today, and walk this stage.” She continues like that for a short while before they begin to call the students’ names, and they each walk across the stage in turn to claim their diploma. Natasha is a little later on the register, so you just sit back and enjoy the show — you’ve lived in this small town all your life, where most people know of each other, and so you recognise or even know the vast majority of the people who make their way across the stage. Some of them choose to make a memorable exit from their high school career (like Happy Hogan who chooses to breakdance his way across the stage, or Ned Leeds who walks proudly in a hot dog suit), whereas others take the more graceful route (see Valkyrie King, a prominent athlete of the school, who walks with confidence and regally basks in everyone’s recognition of her). When Natasha Romanova-Shostakov is called, she walks the stage a little bashfully, and with a blush accepts the cheers showered upon her after several years of being the cheer team’s star. You clap and shout louder than anyone else, and to Yelena’s glee capture several shots of her in her square graduate cap. Front row seat privilege. 

After the presentations, the students flood into the crowd and people break off into little groups. The air hums with the joy of people laughing and congratulating and embracing one another. Natasha makes her way over to you and Yelena, who are stood now with your parents beside the refreshments. She brightens when she spots you, and is instantly by your side, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“There is my girl!” Melina cheers. An outbreak of hugging ensues.

You mingle politely for a while with the other families milling around your own. Natasha appears intermittently, being the centre of attention today. Yelena is by your side (with her arm annoyingly resting on your shoulder to remind you that she’s taller) until one of her hockey friends pilfers her to show her something. In the few moments that you’re unaccompanied, Natasha resurfaces from the crowd, takes your arm and leads you somewhere a little quieter, and a little less visible to the masses.

“I just, um,” she realises she’s still holding your arm and lets go of it with a blush, “I wanted to thank you for being here. Like actually. It means a lot to me. I know— I know that in a couple of weeks I won’t be here properly, and it might make things weird, but —”

Now is the perfect time, you decide. As she continues to nervously ramble you pull the crescent moon necklace in its little velvet box from your pocket, and present it to her. She falls silent and looks at you.

“It’s for you,” you say unnecessarily, opening it to show her the treasure inside. Her eyes widen. “I— I want to do this with you. I want to give us a try. I like being with you.”

And as you clasp the delicate chain around her neck, and lean up to press a chaste kiss to her lips, Natasha understands. Love is something you earn.

She entwines your hand with hers, and together the two of you make your way back towards your family.

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | part 4

Pairing: Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x Sully family

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, discrimination, soft & crush moments.

Note: Hello!!! I hope you like this part <3, one question: do you like the parts to be long or short?. I would like to know what you all think. BTW… I'll keep answering requests. I have a lot of them in my inbox, so please be patient.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5(final)

"Hey, are you okay?" asks neteyam. You were still holding her waist, looking out over the pandora jungle view. You were lost in thought. You feel a tap on your thigh, and all your attention is back on neteyam. Laying your face on his shoulder so you can hear him better. "Yeah…I'm fine. I'm just surprised…about the human" you speak. Neteyam knew it was a surprise for you to see a human. The trip back to camp was quick, neteyam helped you off the ikran. You walk closer to the ikran, stroking his face. "Thank you" you thank the creature. Neteyam approaches you, curious.

"Why do you do that?" asks neteyam, he was somewhat curious. He could tell that you felt differently. The connection the omaticayas had with their creatures was very different. Your connection was much deeper and unique. As if you could understand each creature. "hmmm?" your ears perk up cautiously.

"That thing you do about feeling…I can't explain it. But I can see that you don't need to do bonding to be able to understand the creatures, how do you do that?" speaks neteyam. You laugh a little, turning away from the creature.

"I don't know…I just feel it. It's a kind of feeling" you try to explain. You step in front of neteyam. "May I?" you raise your hand. The man says nothing and nods his head. You move closer and place your palm on his chest. Closing your eyes for a moment, neteyam moves his hand to now place it on yours. you open your eyes with a surprised shock. Making eye contact with him, the two of you stand for a moment in silence. It was a comfortable silence. You lower your head and chuckle to yourself. "I like spending time with you too…neteyam" you speak.

Neteyam is surprised, how could you know that. "I…do" neteyam tries to put his words together. At that moment, jake's voice is heard calling neteyam, as he approaches. "Neteyam son!" speaks Jake, approaching the young men. Your hand was still on neteyam's chest, and he was holding you tightly to his chest. Jake remains silent, giving neteyam a look. He gently removes your hand from his chest. "Neteyam…I need you to help me with a few things, of course, if that's okay?" says Jake, raising an eyebrow as he gives a playful glance at the two of you. Neteyam still holding your hand, you carefully walk away.

"Y/N, do you know how to get to the hut?" asks neteyam. You smile, touching his arm. "Yeah sure…thanks for taking me for a ride" you thank him, and start walking towards the hut. But you take one last look at neteyam, who is still looking at you next to his father. His tail was wagging back and forth excitedly. And he started waving his hand, to say goodbye to you. You say goodbye too.

Jake watches the scene that was playing out before his eyes. Laughing a little to himself, touching his son's shoulder. Who was still watching you walk away from his sight. "Teyam…come on son" speaks jake, neteyam turns his gaze and ascends with a little embarrassment. "yes dad…come on" jake starts to guide his son towards the storage room. He needed help with some simple things, like setting up the storage they had in the camp. Neteyam looked more distracted than other days, as if he was thinking about something else.

Jake noticed this change in attitude. His son was on cloud nine, moving some boxes around, but he was chuckling to himself. And he seemed in a good mood. He had never seen his oldest son like this before, neteyam used to be quite reserved with his emotions. So he thought it was adorable to see him like this. He approached his son, sitting on one of the boxes. "teyam…is something wrong?" asked jake. He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it come out of his son's mouth. Neteyam starts to get nervous, putting the box down. "No…. everything is fine sir" says neteyam, he couldn't fool jake.

"You like Y/N, don't you?" jake drops the bomb, watching neteyam stand up straighter. Trying to answer but gets stuttering. Trying to look for a right answer.

"Well…she's…very pretty," says neteyam, now sitting down next to his father. Jake crosses his arm over his son's shoulders. "Neteyam son" jake starts to speak, but neteyam interrupts him.

"Father…I know I barely know her, but I feel like I belong with her. Like something else brings us together" neteyam says, jake can see how his son explains everything with that passion, and hope. "I feel like I know her from somewhere else" neteyam looks at his father.

Jake is just listening to his son, lifting his shoulders, who was he to judge his son. He had fallen in love with neytiri in such a short time, feeling the same way his son now felt. "teyam…I will only give you one advice, try to get to know the girl better. We know where she comes from, but we don't know what she will bring behind her?" says Jake, Neteyam raises his ears in surprise, but he knew that his father was right, he had to get to know you better.

From that moment on neteyam made it his mission to get to know you better. He wanted to know more about you. What was your life like before? What was your favorite thing? Etc. Getting closer to you, sharing more with you and your son. This was very noticed by the whole family, Neteyam started to do his chores faster, just to get to the family hut and spend time with you. After Jake told Neytiri everything, she would try to bring the two of you together. Leaving you two alone, or telling neteyam how cute you two look together.

Neteyam would start teaching you how to live in the clan, and helping you overcome your fear of humans. Day by day the two of you grew closer, it was so natural. It seemed like destiny, no one dared to question your relationship. Least of all you, whatever was happening you knew it would eventually happen. The moment you placed your hand on neteyam's chest, you could see some of the moments that were going to happen and that you are experiencing right now. So you decided to trust and relax in your predictions.

Time passed rather quickly for your taste, it had already been 2 months since you had arrived at the omaticaya clan. And you finally had your own hut. Neytiri had looked for a place where you could be more comfortable with your baby. Jake helped her build it, while she prepared it inside. You couldn't have been more grateful to her. To Neytiri you had become like another daughter to her, plus…she knew the connection her oldest son had with you.

You had gotten up earlier than usual. You wanted to go to the river to take a bath, you and your baby. And since you were still new to the clan, your appearance used to be strange to everyone. Every time you came to bathe in the river, the na'vi who were there would look at you funny and they would start coming out of the water. So you started going earlier. Preparing everything in a basket, you can hear your now 4 month old baby make a noise, which sounds more like a giggle. You look up, to see neteyam in the frame of the hut, "Good morning" says neteyam, in a soft tone of voice. As he approaches the baby, picking him up from the ground, to rest him on his arm. "And good morning to you" says neteyam, giving the baby a kiss on the cheek. You watch as a laugh escapes your son's lips, laying his head on neteyam's shoulder. "Someone here is very spoiled" you joke, picking yourself up off the floor. While holding your basket.

"I don't blame him" says neteyam, giving you a look. "Mmm are you going to the river?" asks neteyam, it was a very obvious question, but he wanted to ask anyway. "Yes, someone here needs a good bath" you walk over to your baby, sniffing your baby. Neteyam does the same, and makes a disappointed face. "I don't think so…" says neteyam, watching as you move closer to his neck and sniff him as well. "You need a good bath too" you speak up, neteyam blushes a little, giggling nervously. "Do you want to join us?" you ask him shyly. "Sure" says neteyam. You give him a smile, finishing setting up some things you needed. Like some special oils, which mo'at had prepared for you. "Do I really smell that bad?" neteyam tries to smell himself, while listening to you laugh as you start to leave the hut.

The three of you quickly arrived at the river, while you set up your basket somewhere on the rocks. While neteyam was already in the water, as he was holding herwin. You sit on one of the rocks, watching your son laugh and play in the water. Neteyam was so good with your baby, he treated him as if he were his own son. Caring for him and treating him with so much love.

"Hey come here you two" you call, neteyam comes out of the water. Playing with the baby in the air, while your baby's giggles are heard throughout the jungle. Neteyam sits in front of you. Sitting the baby on your lap. You pick up a pot, which contained the oil. "And that?" asks neteyam, neteyam watches as you take it in your hands. As you begin to put it on your baby's skin. "It's an oil, for our skin. You know the sun here, it affects us a lot" you speak, placing more oil on your baby's skin. Neteyam only replies with a very quiet sounding "hmm".

You take some more oil, and put some on Neteyam's nose. "Here…you're a little burned" you speak. "Yeah?" says neteyam playfully, moving closer to you. You laugh, and continue to put oil on his face, very carefully. "Then you wait a while and then you can get wet" you are silent for a moment, noticing how neteyam was very close to you. Almost centimeters from your face, his eyes closed, enjoying your touch. You carefully approach and give him a quick kiss on the tip of his nose. Neteyam's eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull away from you. "Your nose is very pretty" you speak, watching his tail wag excitedly behind him. "Your nose is also very pretty" neteyam leans on his hands, speaking forward to now give you a quick kiss on your nose. You twitch a little, but laugh.

Netayam feels your baby touch his chest. Looking down "Oh…you too" neteyam bends a little to give herwin a kiss on the hair. Neteyam had gotten so close to you, that he was crushing the baby a little on your chest. "I'm sorry sir" says neteyam, offering his hands for the baby to come closer to him. Neteyam takes the baby, to help you. While you continue to put oil on the baby's skin.

At that moment, a group of Na'vi arrive. They were young like you, and Neteyam could see how nervous you had become. Lowering your gaze to your feet, trying to ignore the uncomfortable looks and some out-of-place comments this group was making. "I know somewhere more private…if you want to go there" speaks neteyam, You really wanted to leave. This was one of the reasons why you avoided going to this river. But you couldn't go anywhere anymore, you tell neteyam not to worry and continue taking care of your baby.

After cleaning your baby, neteyam played with him for a while. Trying to show him how to swim, according to neteyam it was normal for Na'vi babies to start swimming at an early age. At least, that he knew the basics. You decide not to enter the river, you felt quite uncomfortable. Your appearance and your physique was something to talk about for the new clan. Even your white skin, white hair etc, was a curiosity to most of the clan. Neteyam steps out of the river, moving a bit to drain the water from his body. "hey…watch out" you complain, as a few drops fell on your face. "Sorry babe" neteyam laughs, moving the baby as well. As the baby laughed again, you were happy to see him so healthy and happy. Just as neteyam was giving you the baby in your arms, he heard some laughter from the group that was looking at them curiously. The son of the clan leader, the great warrior neteyam… involved with a na'vi as strange as you.

"Do you want to go back?" neteyam asks you, you nod. Neteyam takes the basket, and walks with you. But first he gives a glance to the group, looking at them with a bad face. All of them changed their look and tried to dissimulate. You were back at the camp, you were keeping silent as you walked. Your baby had fallen asleep in your arms. "Y/n…" neteyam begins to speak, placing his hand on the back of your neck, gently. "just ignore those idiots," neteyam says.

"I don't blame them…we are weird" you speak, looking at your son and then at neteyam. Neteyam walks over to you, wrapping his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. "If that is so…my whole family is a bunch of weird ones" neteyam jokes, hearing you laugh at his comment. Feeling your body move closer to his body.It felt good, having you this close.

When you arrived at the camp, both of you noticed how the crowd that was in the camp. It seemed to be circling around someone, you could hear some screams. From what you could make understand, they were cries of protest. Neteyam stretches out his arm, creating a barrier. For some na'vi were still running into the crowd, pushing each other. "What's going on?" you look at neteyam with concern. "I don't know," says neteyam, looking around. Trying to look for his father, neteyam can notice that his father is already in the center of the crowd. Neteyam takes your hand, and pulls you to him. You approach carefully, what would be so disturbing to the clan. When you are close, your ears perk up with surprise and speed.

You couldn't believe it, you just heard some familiar voices. You couldn't believe it, it couldn't be possible. You freeze in place, neteyam stops dead in his tracks. Looking at you and approaching you. "Are you okay?" he asks you.

One of your hands runs to your mouth, your eyes started to fill with tears you just heard the voices of your father and brother. You thought they were dead, you couldn't believe it. You hand the baby over to neteyam, and walk quickly towards the center of the crowd. When you finally entered the circle, everything was clear. There they were… two figures that looked just like you. The only thing that differentiated them from you was that they were massive figures. Compared to the Omaticayan men, the men of your clan were bigger and more intimidating.

They looked somewhat upset, waving their hands angrily. You can see how jake tries to calm them down, thanks to eywa that jake was a pretty calm man. Because your father was quite the opposite. "Sir… why don't you calm down and explain to me what you need?" speaks jake, trying to control the two men. You stand there in silence, until your older brother notices your presence. And suddenly there is silence. Your brother punches your father in the arm, to make him stop arguing. "What's wrong with you, don't you dare" your father started to yell, but shut up when he saw your presence.

You run into your father's arms hugging him tightly, feeling your brother join in the hug. "Honey…you're alive!!!! You're alive!" your father speaks through tears. As he hugged you tighter, holding you so that you would never leave his arms. " Dad!!!brother" you cry, you couldn't believe it. They were here with you. At that, Jake moved away a little, leaving more space. Neytiri had arrived at the disturbance, coming towards neteyam. He was standing next to his father holding the baby to his chest. "What's going on?" asked neytiri, the woman was confused. "They are Y/N's family" says Jake.

Your father turns away from you, checking to make sure you were okay. "y/n how did you get here?" your father is confused. You wipe away some tears. "I'm fine, we're fine" you say.

"Is it true…and my grandson?" asks your father. You move away a little, and look back for neteyam in the crowd. You see that he is not far behind you, and you approach him. Crossing your arm, with neteyam's arm. "Dad…they saved my life. They are good" you speak, you wanted him to know the people who had saved you and taken care of you and your son all this time. But the happiness you had on your face was gone for a moment, when you saw your father's angry and disgusted face.

He could not believe his eyes, his daughter chosen to carry on the family lineage. Next to an omaticaya, why yes… your closeness, your attitude and even your scent. Everything indicated that the relationship you two had was much more than just friendship. You squeezed neteyam's arm, and the man could feel the same fear he felt when you were at the river.

Teyam babygurls: symptoms-of-moonlight , tru-blubelle, mashiromochi, ducks118, @butterfly-ibuki, @innercreationflower, @ok-boke, @lovelyygirl8, @sandaltoesocks, @he110hon, @inlovewithpandora, @sussybaka10, @mommyneytiri, @daughterofjakesully, @symptoms-of-moonlight @ilostmyaccounf @archer-fb @he110hon @kenzi-woycehoski @emery-333 @smoiesaustine @a--lyara-main-account

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

[mr2swap]

The incident: This man is my son

- Nate What the hell are you doing? -From falling my Briefcase to the ground while The funny creature that was in my new armchair began to bark without moving from its comfortable place in the muscular arms of my little son Nate, the long and smelly feet of my son stank the entire room with the musky odor of the sweat from his feet.

- Isn't it great dad? her name is Zoey, Mom and I rescued her on the way home, and don't worry about taking her for a walk I'm going to start jogging in the mornings before I go to school, and I'll pick up everything I do in the garden and I'm going to…- I made a hand gesture for her to stop and immediately there was silence, with the same hand I rubbed my hundred to try to alleviate the migraine that was beginning to attack me -Just... it's fine just don't put her on the sofa and clean what she does- I continued on my way towards the kitchen while Nate smiled at me with those lips hidden in a beard recently shaved by my wife Naina, in a second Nate wrapped his long arms around the dog and lowered her to the ground.

-And don't put your feet up on the table! - I yelled before entering the kitchen, once again Zoey the new member of the family barked at me and stayed while she and my huge and noisy son stayed in the living room, as soon as I entered the kitchen I almost tripped over one of my son's toys, put away the little red tricycle with a soft kick that my son usually plays with after coming home from the gym, maybe I should buy him a bike before he breaks it with his new weight of 265 pounds and his height of 6.5 feet tall but I should teach him how to drive it first just like I taught him how to shave.

The government psychologist assured me that it was only a matter of time before me to get used to my new son and his new body, but for me, it is still embarrassing to have to explain to the neighbors that the manly, muscular, shirtless white man who is playing basketball in our front yard is actually my little son Nate.

I couldn't do anything but get used to having another "man" at home, the government is trying to reverse the random exchanges but the terrorists altered the gas so that the effects would be indefinite, maybe forever, I went to the stove to prepare a chamomile tea, while I waited for the sound of the kettle to alert me, I tried to remember my life before that stupid accident in the subway.

Before Nate was the huge 6.5 feet tall hairy gorilla sitting in my living room he was an ordinary kid coming home to his grandfather from elementary school, the same way thousands of people inhaled the gas that a group of terrorists had stolen from a Swap Corp truck and when they woke up they found themselves trapped in the body of some stranger next to them!

The incident destroyed many lives and separated many families But Nate doesn't seem upset with his new body I don't think I've ever seen him smile so much now that he's a 33-year-old man, He doesn't have to go to school so while I and his mom are working he spends his mornings at the gym or playing video games but he still visits his old friends from elementary school to beat them at basketball and tell them all about his new life as a white man.

Of course, my father was also affected by the body-swapping gas, and right now he is spending his retirement money on his vacation in South Korea Before he left he said something about connecting with his new culture and his new age.

He was really lucky to end up in the body of “Yoon” a 25-year-old Korean man who was just at the station to take a couple of photos for his Instagram, at first Grandpa was puzzled by his adorable face and body. of a Greek god but now from all the pictures on the beach and in clubs on the other side of the world, it seems that he is having fun with his second chance. I can't say the same for the real Yoon, The term in my father's fat and old African-American body, and is living in a government asylum for people affected by the incident that's another story...

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[ragingbookdragon]

It’s only the fifth time that he comes in that she realizes the man is obviously going to be a regular. He orders the same thing, a single black tea with a buttered croissant, then proceeds to sit in the booth in the corner, the one that faces away from everything but also gives the best view of the entire café. It takes him exactly thirty minutes to finish the entire breakfast before he leaves, always dropping two pounds into the tip jar and gives her a tight smile before he exits.

“You’re a creature of habit,” she notes, and he looks up from his phone, blinking at her in shock.

“Pardon?”

She smiles. “You order the same thing and sit in the exact same place every morning. A creature of habit.”

“I guess I am,” he replies, looking down at his cup and plate. “Can’t go wrong with simple things.”

“You’d be surprised.” Her eyes trail up his arms, pausing on the fancy but tactical watch, then to his face. “You know we offer military discounts for active duty and retired, yes?”

At this, he pauses and meets her gaze, brows furrowing in what one could only describe as surprised satisfaction. “How’d you know I was military?”

She gestures to the seat across from him and he nods, watching as she takes a seat. “My dad was retired USN. You carry yourself like he did. Punctual, clean cut.”

“Good senses.”

“Eh, I try.”

He smiles as he takes a sip of his tea. “How’d you end up this side of Birmingham?”

A bit of sadness crosses her face as she lets out a soft sigh. “Dad died from cancer a few years ago. I just needed a change of pace.” She shrugs. “Flying halfway across the world and starting new will do that I guess.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he murmurs. “Where was he laid to rest?”

“Arlington.” Her smile is one of pride. “I don’t think I’d ever seen so many retired and active-duty members come to his funeral. It was…really something.” She shakes her head. “But back to my original question. You get a discount for being a military service member.”

“Don’t need it,” he says, shaking his head.

“Just because you don’t need it doesn’t mean you’re not getting it,” she fires back. “You fight for freedom, you get it.”

“Quite an American way of putting things,” he jokes, and her smile is wide and bright.

“The American way of life extends far.” She rises from her seat. “I have to get back to work though.” She turns but pauses and spins back around. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

He smiles, heart fluttering a bit in his chest at the fact that she wants to see him. “Of course.”

“Good,” she says holding out her hand to shake. “You never told me your name though.”

“Jon,” he answers, taking her hand. “Jonathan Price.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jon,” she answers, flushing when he presses his lips to the back of hers.

“The pleasure’s all mine, love,” he smirks, chuckling when she laughs and pulls away, practically tripping over herself as she hurries off.

[marymary-diva17]

always be one of the people

Neytiri family x reader x tsut'ey + Jake sully and others

All children are a blessing to the great mother as she saw, all children born on pandora as one of her children. So what happens when a child comes from the skies, a child that doesn't look like anyone else around here. Will she been seen as child of eywa and one of the many people on Pandora or will se been see outsider and the demons that will come to destroyer the planet she will call home.

mo'at " ......" moa's was walking through the forest as she was falling some wood spirts, she had left her home today when the came to her soon stealing her attention.

mo'at " where are you leading me great mother where" mo'at ears soon went up when she heard a babies cries, and as a mother herself her mother mood had kicked in and followed the cries. She soon stopped running once the cries die down and she saw Thanator stand a bit away from blue thing. That blue thing was a navi baby mo'at got her blade out and walked towards the creature, she will not leave the child defenseless.

mo'at " huh" the Thanator soon noticed mo'at as the wood spirts soon came, and soon enough the Thanator had taken off. mo'at race to the child to see it had the blood of the sky people.

mo'at " hello little one wow you are special" mo'at was looking at the child who reach out hand that was not like everyone else, she had five finger and hair on her face. mo'at was looking at the baby as she soon smile and laugh. The wood spirts had landed on the baby forehead making eywa see this as sign.

mo'at " come you will be with my family I will take you in as my daughter as raise you as my own" when mo'at had return with the odd looking baby, it had gained the whole clan attention as no one saw a baby like that until her. Due to mo'at being the tshaik she had the last saying after she told everyone the child, had been blessed by eywa there was no going against her.

Many years later

Y/n “ ………” you are laying in your bed fast asleep, in your family mauri pod. Soon enough the sunlight had hit your face, and you soon got up from your bed. 

Y/n “ another day to see what the great mother has to offer” you soon got ready for the day and soon left the home, after grabbing some fruit. You had some plans of exploring the forest along with study the sky people aka humans that came many years ago. There was a major obstacle in your way well three obstacles that stopped you. 

???? “ where are you going my daughter”

y/n " good morning mother"

mo'at " morning my daughter you have still not answered my question"

y/n" I'm going out exploring motor and to understand the humans a bit more"

mo'at " you know your father, neytiri, and tsu'tey will hate that idea"

y/n " yes I know but I feel like there something calling to me"

mo'at " I know my child I know"

y/n " I know sneaking off is bad but if dad caught me he will not be happy, and if neytiri caught me she would tag along and try to stop me for going anywhere she deems unsafe"

mo'at " what about tsu'tey"

y/n " he sill do anything in his power to make sure I don't go I love him dearly, but there are times when he do overprotective and I know I will not win a fight against him"

mo'at " they all love you dearly child in their own ways but I understand, go now I will come up with some excuse to them have some fun and follow the will of the great mother" you had smiled towards you mom and hugged her before you ran off with a bright smile on your face. You were wondering around the forest having a time of your life. While wondering your had gather some stuff for yourself and your mother as well.

y/n " huh" you were done doing some gather when you saw some wood spirts foaling near you, making you laugh and smile as you reach out your hand to them.

y/n " It seems like I have been blessed by the great mother or she sending me a sign"

???? " maybe a sign that your shouldn't be wondering off alone during times like this" you soon got spooked when you heard a voice you knew so well, you soon turn away to see tsu'tey standing there.

y/n " oh tsu'tey what are you doing out here did you make sure to have breakfast, before you started your day I hate when you miss meals"

tsu'tey " I hate it when you sneak off without telling others where you are going"

y/n " I don't know what you mean I'm no longer a child I can stay out longer when I wish"

tsu'tey " yes you are no longer a child and member of the clan but you are my future mate, and ma y/n I can worry about you" tsu'tey was now standing near you and soon looked at you.

tsu'tey " what the matter ma y/n"

y/n " are you sure you wish to be with me"

tsu'tey " you are my first love and will always have my heart, there is no one else I rather be with ma yawne"

y/n " are you sure what if our children come looking out like me, will you still love me and them"

tsu'tey " I will love them no matter what our children will be wonderful and blessing and I will love them no matter what happens" you soon laugh and kissed tsu'tey check making the warrior smile.

y/n " you are my warrior"

tsu'tey " you are my heart"

y/n " your warriors are waiting for you don't keep them waiting" tsu'tey soon noticed his students waiting for him, tsu'tey soon kissed your forehead.

tsu'tey " I will see you later tonight at dinner and we can talk more"

y/n " yes my love goodbye" tsu'tey and his warriors soon took off leaving you there, as you went back to herb collecting. You soon made your way back home when you soon ran into your father.

eyuthan " there you are my daughter I was wondering where you ran off today"

y/n " hello father"

eyuthan " so tell me my daughter what are you up to"

y/n " trying to see what the great mother has planned for me, but it seems like I have yet to get answers"

eyutahn " you will get answers soon daughter no need to rush" eyuthan smiles at his daughter making you smile back at him, he soon place comforting hands on your shoulder.

eyuthan " you will always be my daughter and one of the people, no matter what anyone else has to say you are the child of eywa"

y/n " thank you father"

neytiri " sister there you are come on you are with me today ... will it be fine if I take her father"

eyuthan " yes you both can go now I will see you all later on" you and your sister soon walked off together, you were hoping that this happens will last forever for you and your loved ones. Not to your knowledge that some of the things you held so dear will soon be ripped away from you, and that life will never be the same ever again for you.

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

Painter Baby pt.2

Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader

Summary- After moving in with the Meykayina it was hard living your work behind and when you finally find another muse, but what are you supposed to do after you get shot?

Warnings- getting shot, blood, I think that's it lmk if it's not

Pt.1 Pt.2

"We have to leave." When the words left your father's mouth it was like a piece of your soul chipped away. You had to leave your home, your life's work what were you to do? Start over you have years of work here. You felt like you should just turn into a puddle and just evaporate but you couldn't. For your families sake you put a happy and calm face on.

You traveled for many days and Manny nights, through rain and through shine. It was a rough and tiresome journey but you finally made it. Your father was leading you to a strange land, you traveled over a beautiful ocean and then you saw a island many people saw you and surrounded you as you got off of your banshee. It was uncomfortable to have so many eyes in your before. Your father put your hands up to show he means no harm your brother Neteyam mirroring his actions. You watched your mother and her suspicious expression.

Your father had a conversation with the Olo'eyktan of this clan and the Tsahik came and interrogated your family said you would be weak and slow in the water, she said you had demon blood. And then your mother hisses at her and it seemed they had a dominance battle who would back down first. Your father stepped in before it escalated. And it was decided that you would stay there learn the way of water. You had to learn to adapt your father said. "Sully's stick together." Was what he said before you and your siblings to your first lesson.

Tsireya and her brother taught you how to 'breath' it took a while but you got the hang of it. "How about we free dive we can show you the beauty that the Great mother blessed the water with." A boy named Rotxo suggested. Everyone agreed but your eyes were glued on the way the rocks reflected the water creating ripple like shapes on the rock. Lo'ak tugged at your tail making you yelp and you it that. "What did dad say about pulling my tail." You say pinching him hard on his arm. "Ow, It's the only way I could get your attention come on we're free diving." He said and you only rolled your eyes getting up and jumping in behind them.

You kick your arms and legs to get deeper and farther into the water. Everyone seemed to be trying to figure where to go first, but you didn't have that kind of patience. Slowly you drifted farther from them swimming with a school of fish, and then it was as if Eywa herself led you here it was beautiful. So many colors of coral, different sea creatures played and mingled around the plants you've never seen before. So caught up with the beauty in Pandora you hadn't noticed the other teens coming towards you. Your hand caressed a pink tinted coral and then Lo'ak reaches out for you and you turn around and roll your eyes as you swim upward.

Cat hing your breath you smile as you swim toward the shore. "Y/N! Where you going?" Lo'ak called out and you stood out of the water. "I just remembered something I have to do!" You yelled back running to your mauri running past your mother and father. You grab your bag and take a little box that sat under the pillow in your hammock. It had multiple painting colors and leaf made brushes. You shoved it into your bag and ran back to your the beach. Your parents only watched as your ran back and forth. "Think shes up to something." Jake asked. "Most likely." Neytiri replied.

You hopped into your ilu and rode out far, farther than you've went with anyone and you found the perfect spot for your new studio. It was a medium sized cave it had smaller humps of rocks you could paint and the walls inside were smooth it was perfect, absolutely perfect. And you sat all the paints down along with the brushes and your hands just started there magic. You painted the coral and all the beauty the water around them held it had been several hours and you didn't realize to caught up in your art work. Only stopping when you realized it was getting to dark for you to see.

"Damn it." You whisper to yourself you used the last bit of light that was left to do the last stroke of paint you needed to finish it. You stared at it, it had been the first time you painted since you left home and it was amazing all the stress from learning a new way of life kind of just washed right out of you as you painted.

You left the art supplies there deciding that this would be your new studio. Jumping into your ilu and connecting to her you ride back to Awa'atlu. You hopped off and washed your hands off in the water, jogging to the mauri your father was standing outside. Giving him a cheeky smile you wave. "And where were you." It was more of a statement than a question really. "Oh um just looking around lost track of time." You reply, you could have told them about your new art cave but painting is the only time you can be yourself and not feel judged so you kept it on the down low.

Everyday two hours before Eclipse you would sneak off into the cave and you let you mind and hands run wild with the paint. And as time went on your the artwork on the walls and rocks of the cave grew and grew and so did your talent. Everything was perfect, until it wasn't.

The same people who made you and your family flee your home had found you once more and they had Lo'ak, Tsireya, Kiri, and Tuk. Hearing they had your siblings it made your heart stop, the blood in your veins froze. Your father had gathered the clan and was getting ready to attack but you had a plan you put in motion. The man who's man was Quaritch held a gun to your brothers head as he talked to your father over the microphone. ''Sacrafice yourself to save all these people that's all you have to do Jake.'' He said and your fathers face had a look od defeat as you saw him come closer, was he actually going to do it?

But before you could think a creature came from the water it looked like a Tulkun but it didn't have a fin and then it clicked Lo'ak bonded with Payakan he was protecting his soul brother. He flipped over onto the ship some of the soldiers flipped overboard others got crushed under him and some barely got away. You jumped onto the boat and Tuk squealed, ''Y/N!'' You put a finger up to your lip telling her to be quieter and she shook her head.

You cut everyone loose and as you cut Lo'ak loose you laughed. ''Who's the mighty warrior now?'' You joked and he only laughed. You ushered them in front of you as they went deeper into the ship finally finding a way out. And Lo'ak picked a gun up, ''Do you even know how to use that?'' You ask picking one up as he did. ''Yes.'' He rolled his eyes and then before Kiri and Tuk could jump they were snatched by the one and only Miles Quaritch. Tsireya fought to get them out of his arms but he was to strong and he pushed her back.

He held up a gun and shot, you yelped feeling a pericing pain through your shoulder and down your arm. You and Lo'ak fell into the water Lo'ak cheered.

You could barely hold yourself up in the water, ''Lo'ak I-I was hit.'' was all you could say before dipping back into the water. ''Oh shit I got you Y/N just stay a float.'' He said grabbing your uninjured arm as Tsireya gently held your injured arm wrapping it around their neck helping you swim to the rock your father and Neteyam were on.

''S-she was hit.'' Lo'ak said as he watched your chest cave in with every breath you took, he scared- no petreified. Was he going to lose his big sister? Neteyam dropped next to you he patted your face keeping you awake barely as he puts pressure on your wound. ''Your other sisters where are they?'' Jake asked gripping your hand to let you know he was there, but you were slipping in and out of consciousness. ''T-the boat.'' was all Lo'ak could say. Neytiri landed and she saw your body and the blood leaking from you.

''Neytiri we have to go they have the girls.'' Lo'ak stood up ready to follow his father before Jake pointed at him. ''You are not coming, you've done enough.'' he said eyes glancing to you. ''Get her back to Ronal she will help.'' Neytiri said before getting on her banshee riding to the boat. Lo'ak jumped into the water. "W-what are you doing Lo'ak." She cried as your eyes shot open and cried in pain. "I have to help."

"No..." Was all she said before Neteyam dragged you to his ilu. "Let him go we have to get her back."

And Ronal saved you, for the most part. You wouldn't have movement in you arm for a few weeks if not a month, and having said that you couldn't be left unattended in case the leaf wrap she used as bandages ripped you could get infections, deadly infections. Your father put you on lockdown in the marui and someone was always by your side.

Until Lo'ak was asked to go get something for your father and you were finally alone. You just wanted to paint, it was your safe space so now you find yourself looking around to make sure no was around and you jogged towards the ilus.

"Y/N Sully where in Eywa's name do you think you're going?" You hear your father's seen voice behind you as you hop off the ilu you just mounted. You rolled your eyes as you drag yourself from the shallow water and next to your father. "No where now." You whisper walking back to the marui. Jake knew where you wanted to go, well he didn't know exactly where but he knew you found somewhere to paint, he knew you felt at peace in your art studio but he couldn't let you go he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't want you to be miserable. But he also doesn't want his baby girl to get hurt.

So here he sits watching you look out at the ocean of the window opening of the marui as he cuts up some fruit. And then he got an idea. "Hey baby girl I need to go do something I'll be back please stay." He said waiting for your response before he leaves. "Okay." You say only looking at the ocean. He sharply inhales before walking out.

He stepped over to the men and women who gathered wood for communal dinners. "Hey! Hey, could I have some of these bark pieces, like the flat ones?" He asked two of them looked at him questionably, before gathering five or six of them and handing them to the older man. He tilts his head down before going to the beach sitting down on the warm sand.

He used the dull side of his knife he sanded down the rough side of the flat piece of bark in his lap. He did this to all of the barks he picked them up. And then Neteyam caught his eye, "Neteyam!" He yelled out and Neteyam turned around jumping up and running to his father. "Yes father?" He asked looking at the bark and the wood chippings around his feet. "Do you know how to make that paint that Y/N uses?" Jake asked his eldest son.

Neteyam pondered for a minute and then he remembered. "Yeah she taught me how to make it one day let's get some plants." Neteyam said going to the buses that grew around the place. "Okay so we need this one, this one, and this one." Neteyam whispered to himself as he plucked a red, blue, and purple flowers. He picked a few other colored flowers putting them in his bag. "Here you go all you do is smash them into powder and mix it with hox tree maple and you should be good." Neteyam instructed Jake handing him the bag of flowers. "Thank you son." He replied patting his shoulder.

"No problem, I got to go I promised Tul I'd take her to Three Brothers Island." Neteyam said as he jogged to his little sister who had been yelling his name for the past fifteen minutes.

The Jake did as Neteyam told him.

He grabbed a pot and first started to smash the red flowers up into a fine powder, and then he mixed the hox tree maple into the dust mixing it in until it created a paint like consistency, then he grabbed a small wooden box and filled it with the paint and put the wooden lid on top of it.

It took him a while but he finally made all of them putting them in their own little boxes. He put them all into a bigger box along with the wooden canvas he made. He picked the box up and walked towards the Marui stepping inside he looks at you, you hadn't moved since he left. "Hey baby I got you something." He said you turned your body as his paint covered hands put the box down in front of you. You looked inside and your face contoured into one of happiness and tears in your eyes.

He saw the tears and worry washed over him, "Oh my god did I do something wrong I'm sorry if I did I can take it back." He said reaching for the box not wanting to upset you. But instead of crying with a frown you have a soft smile on your face touching his hand and shaking your head. "I love it, thank you." You say wiping the tears from your face and then you see his arms covered in multiple colors of paint. "You hands." You laugh and he turns them over. "What? I think look very artistic don't you think?" He jokingly asked and you burst into laughter shaking your head up and down.

After a while the laughter died down, you picked up a canvas and opened the multitude of blues he made. "I'm glad you like it now I'll let you be-"

"No!" You yelled making him sit back down. "I haven't done a portrait in a while so now you get to be my victim." You laugh and he lets a chuckle out as you begin to outline his face. He watches how focused you are and that smile he has wanted to see for so many weeks now has finally came back.

[fountainpenguin]

Short Version: I don't even know how to begin explaining this, so take these 'fic doodles with no context.

Wish Fixers, my chronically unhelpful beloved...

Long Version (City Lights AU #ridspoilers beyond the above implication. Mentions of death and trauma; it gets pretty dark)

Nalooksthrough, I tag you below because I cited your co-dependent toxic friendship comic and said it was cool- If you don't want to click, that's all the tag was :)

So I started outlining my Dale backstory 'fic (Lemonade and Papercuts) since I am the most predictable person alive and of COURSE I can't resist 7 years of trauma and intimacy anxiety <3. But planning a 'fic like this requires many pieces and many questions.

First and most obvious- How did Vicky lure in Dale? From previous planning, I've already decided that since they're the same age (maybe one year off), they probably knew each other in school or activities.

Ex: Squirrely Scouts & Cream Puffs... Not unreasonable- Throughout the series, many kids participate and the organizations seem to have a big following in Dimmsdale. Vicky's sister Tootie is in the Cream Puffs and Vicky is seen bossing them around in the Season 0 episode "Scout's Honor" ("Oh Yeah! Cartoons"). There's a comic by the same name depicting Remy in Squirrely Scouts (after "Fairy Fairy Quite Contrary" but before he gets his memories back in "Remy Rides Again" and I always thought it was cute). I mean, look at him:

Pictures courtesy of the FOP Wiki

It's not unreasonable that Dale - who's also rich - might've gotten into that (especially since Doug is big on the cowboy theming and of all the rich parents, he's probably the one most okay with his son playing in dirt). Something scout-related could be an option even if Dale and Vicky went to different schools.

A friendship that gets increasingly toxic until it spirals into full-on abuse sounds really interesting (and @nalooksthrough portrayed this idea beautifully imo in THIS comic I can't stop thinking about).

Sounds fun to write, so let's go with that. What's next?

Hey, remember when 7 years ago, I headcanon'd H.P. as Dale's godfather because of this doodle in Da Rules that specifically refers to Pixie godparents and depicts a fluffy-haired kid in a purple shirt?

I recently found out I still had Dale listed as a godchild of H.P. on his full character profile on my fanfic sideblog. I was waffling over whether to retcon that (since I hadn't yet done anything with it), but I started brainstorming whether I COULD do anything with it.

I've always written Wish Fixers in 'fic [e.g. Origin of the Pixies] as a therapy business run by H.P.'s dad (which H.P. bought off him out of spite despite not being licensed for therapy) but, like...

Does Jorgen know H.P. isn't licensed? I can't see why he would... As far as he knows, H.P. owns and runs the place- especially given my lore that Wish Fixers has been in his family for many generations. Sounds qualified to me!

In "School's Out! The Musical" (episode that Da Rules screenshot is from), we learn Pixies are at the back of the line for godparent work, even under creatures like unicorns (Hence the Musical's plot requiring them to remove magical creatures from earth before they could assign themselves to Flappy Bob).

I said in a recent liveblog post that I'd always imagined this was a punishment given to them due to H.P. absolutely failing as godfather to Dale- Thus, the origin of the doodle on the page for that rule. But... I never decided what happened.

See, Dale SEEMS like a guy who would qualify for a fairy. He was probably pretty miserable under Vicky's 7 years of torture and he's still holding onto that trauma in his adulthood.

DID he have a fairy?

I'm just saying, we know from S4's "Wish Fixers" that H.P. is legally(?) allowed to make contracts that swap a fairy godparent with a pixie one if godkids choose to sign of their own free will... Hmm... I'm connecting dots I don't think I like... (I am lying).

I mean?? Dale clearly did not get out of the pit due to magical interference. If I'm committing to the doodle being Dale and reflecting an actual godfather-godson dynamic between him and H.P., then something sure went wrong there. I can't NOT make Dale suffer...

What on earth could've made Dale sign a contract for something a fairy couldn't give him? We know from "Nectar of the Odds" canon that he wished to see his dad, and thanks to previous liveblogs, I DO already have a headcanon of Dale being extremely desperate for his dad's love... Hmm... I can work with that.

I went down a rabbit hole trying to answer the question of how Vicky secured lemons for 7 years for Dale (and other kids) to work with. Here are some lemon tree facts:

- Lemon trees bear fruit after only a few years - They can bear fruit multiple times a year (depending on variety) - A single lemon tree can produce 1,500 lemons in one growing season - Dimmsdale is in California - a state known for lemon orchards.

That feels likely... An orchard of even a few trees can keep you going for a while.

But lemonade doesn't sell for much compared to other things Vicky could've set a kidnapped child up to do (Ex: In "Microphony," she has kids doing a bunch of other tasks like answering phones for her babysitting service, painting houses, and washing cars).

So... WHY lemonade? What is going on that makes this the thing Vicky has Dale do for 7 years?

And who owns the orchard? I need Vicky to obtain lemons without being stopped for 7 years.

Is it a Dimmadome orchard? Maybe, but several episodes imply Vicky's not familiar with the Dimmadomes - and she probably would have turned Dale in for cash reward if given the chance - so those are two things I need to keep in mind.

Does the orchard belong to her family? That's a possibility- Vicky is shown drinking lemonade after "Nectar of the Odds." She definitely could've bought it - It can't be too expensive unless prices were jacked up after she lost her cheap labor - but it's a drink she's seen with in multiple episodes. She definitely likes it.

And we know from "Timmy's 2D House of Horror" that Vicky's parents are terrified of her. It's not likely they'd stop her from taking lemons from the family orchard.

One problem... If Dale goes missing when he's about 9 (Closer to 7 or 8 in my planned timeline), Vicky is also 9 or younger. Are her parents scared of her when she's that small and inexperienced in the ways of the world?

In "The Switch Glitch," she's 5 and seems mild and sweet until 10-year-old Timmy mistreats her- She clearly didn't have memories of Timmy, implying she totally regressed to how she acted when she really was 5. Worth pointing out she goes off the deep end and chains up Cosmo and Wanda, so... she IS mean even at age 5. But also, she's 5. She wears the same purple hair bow in "Switch Glitch" (at 5) that she does when Timmy drains the meanness out of her in "Vicky Loses Her Icky," which is interesting.

So that begs the question... Can I turn my Dale backstory 'fic into a double story of Dale abuse AND Vicky going from a pretty innocent child to Totally Messed Up? Keeping in mind that according to Vicky in A New Wish, Vicky IS the one responsible for abusing him and he "spent 7 years' worth of Saturdays in a factory underneath a lemonade stand."

If that's the way I want to play it... Something happened to send Dale and Vicky down the dual victim-and-abuser path, destinies intertwined. And for some reason, Vicky stuck with the lemonade theme.

Dale just says he spent his Saturdays "in a factory underneath a lemonade stand." It's not out of the question he and Vicky made more lemon products than just lemonade, especially given Vicky's love for money (and those 600 lbs of lemons one tree can produce in a year). We can assume they changed locations a few times or someone would've found the trapdoor on Timmy's lawn. Plus when Dale started his abuse, Vicky hadn't started babysitting Timmy, whom she only met when he was 8.

So, I've set Dale up to be lured in by Vicky because they were friends. I like the idea of things gradually getting worse as Vicky slowly morphs from a friend into a very cruel person. If Vicky was bullying him, what stopped him from just... leaving?

Vicky's transformation was probably subtle if he stayed for so long..... I also pointed out in a recent post that Doug's underground milk empire where he uses hypnotized people for labor bears a striking amount of similarities with Vicky's lemonade stand, even down to the general vibes of "trapdoor entrance" (although it's implied there's another entrance in small building).

And if we want to be technical about things... We don't know if Doug and Dale pressed charges against Vicky. She clearly continues to babysit Timmy and other kids after "Nectar of the Odds" (Season 2).

In Season 4 ("Channel Chasers"), Doug remarks that Timmy's parents should've guessed Vicky was evil because of the Chip Skylark song "Icky Vicky," but he doesn't mention Vicky kidnapping his son. That's.... sus. He even offers to buy a car from her in Season 3's "Engine Blocked" (after Dale's escape).

Why would such a powerful guy let all of that slide? Did they just not have enough proof? Did Vicky wipe the place clean? Did Dale "not want to make a big deal about it" because he was so exhausted and grateful, he just didn't want to think about it or struggle with the legal system? Was he covering for her?? Was he scared to speak up?

... Did Dale not tell his dad the whole truth about where he was?

What if Dale was - in some vague and early concept way - in on the lemonade scheme from the beginning, back when he and Vicky were friends and she wasn't so cruel? Maybe she turned on him and sentenced him to the pit before long?

Why the underground-ness of it? Why the lemonade, which probably doesn't turn much profit... as lemonade. Unless you have unrestrained access to tons of lemons that you can turn into multiple products - Dale DID call it a factory - and no one is stopping you from accessing them...

... but how do you set up a situation where kids have access to a whole lemon orchard - presumably carefully maintained - and the adults don't take it away from them (Because... surely they would've found Dale and multiple other kids if they strayed close).

And Dale didn't leave. He does in "Nectar of the Odds" - apparently of his own volition - but not before. Was he kept there mentally as well as physically?

We KNOW Vicky can't be monitoring him 24/7 because "Nectar of the Odds" is the only episode depicting her paying attention to him, while others show her doing many other things in many other places (though it's worth noting Dale says in that episode that "Vicky's kept him locked up for so long").

Did he stay so long because it was the perceived better fate up until he miraculously crossed paths with his dad (via fairy magic) and took the risk? Would he have gone back in?

Maybe it wasn't supposed to get this out of hand. Dale and Vicky were young when this started... Somewhere between 7 and 9 (given that Dale was kept there for 7 years and Vicky is 16 when he escaped and he tells 9-year-old Dev this happened when he was Dev's age).

Maybe there was an accident. Something not just Vicky, but even Dale felt the need to cover up, especially in regards to the orchard and the fact that it needs to be Vicky's consistent source of lemons (and not something she lost out on before Dale's escape... an illusion of ownership maintained. Kids can't own the orchard, but what if they fooled people into believing it wasn't owned by kids?)

Hmm... some kind of accident that got two mostly innocent kids into huge trouble, thus setting up a horribly intertwined fate where if one of these toxic co-dependent friends backs out and squeals, even the squealer might suffer worse compared to trucking along on the cruel existing path.

tl;dr - if Vicky and Dale accidentally killed the orchard owner but they were kids and terrified to tell an adult lest they go to jail for life so they hid the body in the basement (or like ?? threw it to the coyotes or hyenas that inexplicably lurk on the fringes of Dimmsdale??) and are trying desperately to wipe their hands of this by pretending the lemon orchard is still operational so no one investigates until they can figure out a plan, and then Vicky hardens herself as a trauma response and manipulates Dale into believing it was solely his fault and she'll pin him with murder charges if he gets cold feet and turns her in, and he's miserable and gets a fairy (then loses his fairy via Pixie contract through Wish Fixers, presumably in an attempt to negotiate a way to protect himself from Vicky and somehow not gaining the ire of his father) and then H.P. (lawyer and unlicensed yet de facto therapist pulled two ways) is suddenly Dale's godfather and trying to comprehend what the flip is going on between misery and manslaughter while he's also juggling Gary, Betty, and Flappy Bob at the same time in preparation for the Musical because we know he spent 37 years on that plan...

... Would that be one messed-up yet hyperspecifically canon-compliant 'fic or what?

These thoughts have been haunting me all weekend and I HAD to get my "I'm not that kind of lawyer or therapist" joke out of my system, so there's your context. #Sorry. Is this the direction the actual 'fic will go? ... It's not the direction I really had in mind, but ?? It's off the wall and therefore I must shake it in my teeth. I can't not write Dale backstory this horrific. what. hey.