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#i really need to read the velveteen rabbit
always-a-joyful-note · 7 months
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Okay but in honour of Artistic Partisan being released on engstars, I'm going to be very self-indulgent and talk about how Hell Screen (source) coded it is. And yes I'm talking about Akutagawa Ryunosuke's short story about the (spoilers to come) painter obsessed with art and his beloved daughter who got sacrificed in all sorts of ways (then died) in order to inspire him to paint a scene of the Buddhist hell at the commission of his shady patron.
I mean, maybe it's just me but I think Artistic Partisan perfectly captures that line between obsessive creation and passionate artistry, flip flopping back and forth as the line "si vis artem, para bellum" (play on the latin "si vis parcem, para bellum" if you want art/peace, prepare for war) is chanted in the midst of it all. Like how could that not capture the artist's desire for eternity, longevity, beauty while also having the both threatening but invoking intense melody that gives it that edge of action and danger? It's so Hellscreen in the way that Hellscreen is a very bleak depiction of the battle that is art (with questionable beauty being produced but a definite masterpiece of expression regardless). Yes, the artist wants to live forever but, be warned, because the world of art is not one of peace. It is filled with blood and sacrifice and battles. Artistic Partisan is the warning song (but also a praise, almost, of art), Hellscreen is the story of the song ignored (but still proof of how war really does create art).
Just....man. They went hard on this one. If you want art, prepare for war indeed.
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wandabear · 1 year
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WISH YOU WERE HERE - WANDA MAXIMOFF X F!READER
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Summary: 17 years ago, a New Jersey high school girls’ soccer team travels to Seattle for a national tournament. While flying over Canada, their plane crashes deep in the wilderness, and the surviving team members are left stranded for nineteen months.
This is a fic based on the tv show ’Yellowjackets’. I make it clear that it will not be the same as the show, to make it more interesting. Jules is portrayed by Adelaide Kane. Here.
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CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN FINALE
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WARNINGS: There may be violence, bullying, smut, mentions about addictions. ㅤㅤ SONGS IN THIS CHAPTER: HOLD ON - WILSON PHILLIPS MOTHER MOTHER - TRACY BONHAM
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤCHAPTER TWO
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“Why this rabbit looks just like my old Bunny that was lost when I was sick?  I loved that Bunny! said the surprised boy.”  Wanda read as she tucked the twins into bed.  They loved having a bedtime story, especially since Wanda had the superpower to tell it perfectly.
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“What he didn't know was that it was his very own Bunny, come back to see the boy. For he was the reason the Velveteen Rabbit had become real.”
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The little ones smiled happily, it was so good to hear that story once more. The 'Velveteen Rabbit' was a favorite.
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“I'm so glad the rabbit came back.” Billy said as Wanda leaned down to kiss his forehead, handing the boy his favorite stuffed animal. 
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“Yeah. I like rabbits.” Tommy nodded and smiled as Wanda came over to tuck him too.  “Can we have one, mom?”
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“Yes! Can we? Please!” Billy begged with his most tender pout, leaving Wanda babbling nervously. This is when she needed Vision to back her up.
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“Umh… we can talk about it tomorrow, okay? Now, sleep.” The brunette walked to turn off the light, but not before looking her boys once more.
ㅤㅤ “Good night, mom!” They said at the same time.
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“Goodnight, guys. I love you.” Wanda smiled tenderly at them and carefully closed the door. She sighed deeply before going back to the kitchen. She had a lot to do, sleep was not going to be the answer tonight.
Wanda turned on Spotify and tried to relax a bit while she washed the dishes, but the song that was playing stole acutel smile, her huge green eyes filling with tears as Wanda was lost in her memories.
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… or are you comfortable with the pain? You've got no one to blame for your unhappiness. You got yourself into your own mess.  Just open your heart and your mind… Is it really fair to feel, this way inside?ㅤㅤ
Some day somebody's gonna make you want to turn around and say goodbye! Until then, baby, are you going to let 'em hold you down and make you cry? Don't you know? Don't you know, things can change… just hold on.
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Wanda closed her eyes, getting lost in that song when that blond man came up behind her, hugging her hips.
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“Darling… Is it necessary to do that now?” Vision whispered in her ear. “Do you want to…?”
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“Umh… Actually I was going to tell you that…” Wanda closed the tap  and turned to face him, somewhat uncomfortable with the closeness. “I wanted to look for some stuff in my old boxes, wash the dishes… I was going to take advantage now that I have insomnia.”
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“Oh.” The man backed away, clearly taking offense at the rejection. “Of course yes. YOUR stuff you never talk about.”
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Wanda frowned, noticing his attitude. “Yes, my stuff. Things I don't feel comfortable talking about, okay? It's something I need to do.”
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Vision chuckled wryly and shook his head. “Whatever… I have to go to the office, there’s an emergency. Good night, Wanda.”
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The sokovian didn't say anything, she just dried her hands with the kitchen towel and watched as the man left the house. She didn't seem bothered at all, Wanda had long suspected that Vision was cheating on her, but it didn't seem to bother her either.
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Was this the life she had hoped so much for? It's what Wanda always wondered.
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Once she was sure that the twins were asleep and she was completely alone, Wanda walked towards the attic. Unlike many other dirty and dusty attics, Wanda kept the place neat and perfectly clean, taking that place as her comfort zone to clear her mind.
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Besides to some newly painted paintings, there were some old boxes and furniture. Wanda walked over to a stack of boxes and carefully pushed it aside, revealing a safe.
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891902
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Wanda typed the code and opened the safe. Inside were quite a few old papers, the deed to the house, some old photographs, and some money. But the most important thing was some old journals that were hidden behind everything.
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She picked up the journals carefully, sitting down on the couch to see them better. Just seeing those old pages and that red symbol shook everything inside her. It's been so long since she's seen them, tried but she couldn’t deny the past. The brunette searched among some stuff on the boxes until she found that object. 
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Wanda hesitated before taking it, it was a captain's armband. An old piece of cloth with a Yellowjacket wasp symbol and a huge "C" on it.
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A tear fell down her cheek as she remembered that moment.
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Three years before the accident…
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That pastel pink color predominated in that bedroom, as did some posters of different actors and singers from the 90's and 2000's such as Tom Welling, Chad Michael Murray or Jeremy Sumpter. Next to the window was a nice telescope, as well as an old computer and a small but very comfortable dressing table. The place was perfectly tidy, she didn't like mess very much.
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Some day somebody's gonna make you want to turn around and say goodbye!   Until then, baby, are you going to let 'em hold you down and make you cry?
ㅤㅤ Don't you know? Things can change… Things'll go your way if you hold on for one more day .
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‘Hold On’ by Wilson Phillips was playing on the boombox radio while she was reading one of her favorite books, ‘The Cheerleader’ by Caroline B. Cooney. It was a fairly simple novel about a girl named Althea, the typical girl who wants to be a cheerleader, desired and everything. She’s nobody, she gets no phone calls, shares no laughter and has no friends. Then one day she meets some vampire. At least this fourteen-year-old girl was trying to hold on to an impossible story. Imagining that maybe one day she will have her own hero.
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And at least that made Wanda feel a bit better, after being rejected by the soccer team. Couch Coulson said that she wasn't what they were looking for but that if she liked it, could help them. Being an assistant to Coach meant being part of the team, and it would help so much get into colleges.
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Of course Wanda accepted.
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The doorbell rang taking her out of the reading, Wanda left the book on the bed and run to open the door but Pietro stepped forward.
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“Hello.” Pietro raised a curious eyebrow when he saw that girl there, of all the people in the world she was the one he least expected to see. That girl that everyone adored at school lately. 
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“Hey.” The girl smiled a bit shyly. “I umh… I’m Y/N. I came to study with Wanda, she was going to help me with some biology and Math projects.”
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“Yeah, I know you.” Pietro teased and stepped aside.  “Come in.”
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Wanda went down the stairs meeting that girl's gaze; Y/N could swear that those green eyes took her heart from the first moment she saw Wanda Maximoff. And still didn't know why.
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“Y/N, hi.” Wanda settled her glasses. “Come, let's go to my room.”
ㅤㅤ Y/N nodded and said goodbye to Pietro, going up after Wanda.
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“Don’t do anything weird over there!” Pietro joked again and then went to the kitchen, ready to make himself the biggest sandwich he's ever seen.
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Y/N entered the bedroom and looked around, an exquisite raspberry scent made her sigh. It was a nice bedroom, totally different from hers. She was maybe less... girly. The taller girl left her backpack on the ground and took out everything she would need.
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“So, you said you wanted help with maths, right?” Wanda nodded slowly, biting her lower lip.  “Professor Garner is quite... unique and complex.”
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“She’s a bitch who hates me.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “But yeah.”
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“Just because she's demanding or strict doesn't mean she hates you, Y/N.” Wanda sat across from her.
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I know this pain. Why do you lock yourself up in these chains? Don't ever let anyone step all over you. Just open your heart and your mind.
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“This is a nice song, I like it.” Y/N smirked.
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Wanda widened her eyes in surprise and nodded quickly.  “Me too.”
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“That’s good, you’ve good taste in music.”
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They both smiled for a moment.
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“Hey, could we start with algebraic logic? Because its-” Y/N said when the phone in the bedroom rang, drawing the sokovian's attention.
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That never happened, never. Wanda got up to answer the phone, maybe it was her mom calling to say she would be late or something like that.
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“Hello?” The lovely Wanda was expectant, but all she heard was girls giggling. Again.
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“Wanda! Oh, my gosh. Hi.”
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Wanda rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Sharon?”
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“Sorry. I'm sure you're, like, so busy.” Clearly she was looking to tease her. All the girls around Sharon laughed.
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“We just thought you should know that Quill… he's telling everybody you two did anal in the janitor's closet.”
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Wanda swallowed, squeezing that phone hard. She noticed that Y/N was watching her curiously.  “Well, for your information, I've never even been in the janitor's closet.”
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“So where'd you guys do it then?”
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“I didn't... I didn't do anal with Quill-” She whispered trying to prevent Y/N from hearing, but it was impossible. Y/N raised an eyebrow, she noticed how Wanda seemed upset and embarrassed and that made her blood boil.
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“So you've done it with somebody else.” They all laughed like hyenas again. “Wanda… Do you, like, love anal?”
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“No. No, I-I've never...” the brunette babbled desperately.
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“You know what I think?... I think you wish someone would do anal to you, Wanda.”
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Wanda didn't say anything, she just clenched her jaw and tried not to cry.
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“Only, you're too ugly to, like, find a victim.”
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 “Someone who likes that you hurt him with your braces!”
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“BRACEEEES!”
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“You can think what you want.” The sokovian sniffles. “Opinion is the wilderness between knowledge and ignorance. That's Plato.”
ㅤㅤ Wanda smiled victoriously, though of course it didn't feel like victory at all. She just felt like a wild beast scratching to save herself.
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“What? Geez… You're such a fucking weirdo.”
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Sharon ended the call and Wanda was silent for a moment, trying to drown out all the anger and sadness she felt inside. It had been two years since they arrived from Sokovia and still couldn't feel comfortable in that place. Some ignored her, some teased her.
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“Are you okay, Wanda?” Y/N's voice brought her into the world again, making her turn around.
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“Yeah, just…” The Sokovian stammered.  “A wrong call.”
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The girl sat and looked for her books, but Y/N definitely knew that she felt quite hurt by all those stupid and constant jokes. She saw it every day at school.
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“I'm sorry.” Y/N sighed. “Those girs can be really stupid.”
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Wanda just stayed silent, just lowered her gaze, playing with her rings.
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“Maybe they are jealous of your intelligence.” Y/N smiled at her and softly pushed with her shoulder, making Wanda smile a bit.
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“Yeah, sure.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “They just make fun of my stupid braces. It's good that I'll get rid of them soon, they will stop bothering me.”
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“Really? Wanna know something?” Y/N wrinkled her nose and moved closer as if to tell her a big secret.  “I think they’re cute.”
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“Thanks.”  Wanda smiled tenderly.
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Y/N thought for a moment and then took her backpack, taking something out of it.
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“You know what? This will make no one else bother you…” Y/N took her captain's armband, it was one of the most precious things she had. All that week Natasha was on the bench because she had two very important fouls, very difficult games and ended with a painful red card.
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“No, Y/N… This is yours, I can't take it. You worked so hard all week for it.”  Wanda shook her head although she admitted that it melted her heart for a moment.
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“I'm giving it to you.” Y/N insisted, taking Wanda’s hand and making her keep a piece of cloth. “If someone bothers you… just show it.”
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Wanda's green eyes were lost in hers, feeling a connection that she never had before.
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“Thank you, Y/N.”
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Y/N smiled. “No problem, Wands.”
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Wanda smiled widely, not caring about those braces anymore.  “So let's talk about Algebraic-”
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“Wait, umh… Do you have a bathroom that I can use? Sorry, I just... Need it.” Y/N seemed quite nervous, she giggled and stood up pointing to the door.
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“Oh, sure.” The brunette seemed surprised, maybe even a bit sad. “Go down the stairs and turn right.”
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“Thank you.”
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Y/N left the room and quickly went downstairs. She looked around the room carefully and tried not to make too much noise, finally finding the phone. She made sure that no one was near  and dialed that number that she knew.
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‘Hello?’
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“It’s Y/N. Listen to me, Sharon. If you bother Wanda with your stupid mean calls again, I'm going to take this phone and shove it up your ass. Did you hear me? I’m deadly serious. And I will tell everyone that you loved it and you’re the one who loves anal, and everyone is going to believe me because first, I'm a big lesbo and second, I'm captain of the team. Did you understand?”
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Maybe she was being too much of a bitch, that was far from a good thing to do, but she needed Sharon to understand how shitty she was right now and scare her away.
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Sharon was babbling, clearly scared.  “Y-Yeah, Y/N. Sorry. Won’t do it again.”
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Y/N ended the call and sighed before walking back towards the stairs, when she found Pietro eating a sandwich. Of course, he must have heard everything.
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“Nice.” 
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“Pietro, I-” 
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“You didn't have to do that for my sister.” Said with his arms crossed but after all he nodded.  “But thanks. I tried to tell them to fuck off every time they call, but I can't hit a girl, right?”
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Y/N nodded as well.  “It's okay.”  
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“You'd make a good captain, you know?” Pietro smirked. “You're doing a good job. The coach knows it.”
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She smiled at those words, glad that people were beginning to really see what she was worth it. She was starting to appreciate herself too. “Thank you, Pietro.”
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“Now go or my sister will think I am flirting with you and she will hate me.”
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Y/N just smiled and went up the stairs once more. This time she was able to pay attention to the adorable photographs hanging on the wall, including some of Wanda alone, smiling in front of beautiful landscapes.
Y/N entered the bedroom, finding a Wanda cuddling a pillow and a the biggest and cutest pout.
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“Hey.”
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“Hey.” Wanda adjusted her glasses and sat on the bed, blushing. She seemed shocked to see her there again.  “I thought you ran away.”
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The darkhaired girl raised an eyebrow, curious.  “Why would I do that?”
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“Well... I wouldn't be surprised.” Wanda looked down, thinking how pathetic that sounded.  
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“Oh, come on. Come on, teach me about this shit so I can go to a nice college and I don't end up making smoothies at Marky's.” Y/N joked so she could steal a cute smile from her and leave all that sadness behind. She hated seeing Wanda like this.
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The sokovian just giggled and Y/N sat next to her, starting to teach a bit about Algebraic logic.
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NOW
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Wanda opened her eyes, drying the tears that fell down her cheeks when she remembered that sweet moment with Y/N. She found herself hugging that piece of cloth against her chest, like it was the most precious treasure.
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That was the first time she felt accepted and liked, the first time someone reached out to her for sincere friendship.
Why did it all have to be so hard?
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Sighing, the brunette cut that bell pepper so fast and then dropped it into the pan, along with some onion.
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‘Mother, mother are you listening? Just a phone call to ease your mind. Life is perfect never better, distance making the heart growblind…’
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Jules walked around the kitchen looking for all the ingredients she needed.  She looked at herself in the window’s reflection, she was no longer a young girl. Her tired brown eyes, those prominent lips with a glossy lipstick.  At almost thirty-four years old she was trying to take care of herself and seemed to be doing quite well although a few small wrinkles in her eyes.
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Well, it was the payment for working in a hospital with long shifts of more than twenty four hours.
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“You look beautiful, I don't know why you worry so much.” Natasha's voice made the brunette turn around, smiling mischievously.  The Russian approached with an exquisite bottle of wine and kissed her wife's lips, slowly, enjoying her. Definitely enough to leave Jules completely dumbfounded, Nat rested her forehead against hers.
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“I missed you.” Natasha whispered.  “That was the longest shift in the world.”
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“I know, I missed you too.” Melting into her wife's arms, Jules raised an eyebrow to play with her: “You're ten minutes late, Romanoff.”
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“But I'm here, right?” Nat smiled and moved away so she could have two glasses of wine and pour some for Jules.  “For you, Mrs. Romanoff.”
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“Uh, I like the way that sounds.” Jules laughed and took the glass, trying that exquisite red wine. “Mmm, this is delicious. Too expensive?”
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“Not much. We deserve it.” Natasha winked as she watched as her wife put the glass aside and cut some vegetables, looked too beautiful in that black dress, trying to impress her perhaps.
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Licking her lips, Nat walked over and set the glass of wine down in front of Jules, hugging her from behind.
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“You look beautiful tonight… krasivaya.”  She inhaled her perfume and placed short kisses on her neck. Natasha missed her so much, sometimes she wondered how she had become so obsessed with this woman. She got that answer every time she saw that smile.
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Playing along, Jules closed her eyes and pushed her body against the Russian's, teasing her. Their breaths became rough, especially when Nat began to caress her belly, going up to her breasts, down to her hips.
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“I wanted to do this so bad.” Natasha growled against her ear, slowly her hand skimming her panties. “The bed was empty without you.”
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“Oh, goddess…” Jules sighed, closing her eyes. Placing her hands against the counter, she definitely felt lost among the slow caresses, feeling how everything around her was disappearing. It was just about her and her wife, nothing could interrupt the moment.
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Except for that intrusive thought, which came to her at the worst moment of all. Jules opened her eyes and stood still for a moment, clearing her throat. Suddenly all the desire was gone, fucking everything up.
ㅤㅤ Natasha understood the message and carefully removed her hand, watching her with some concern.
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“You okay? You would never turn down a quickie in the kitchen... Who are you and what have you done with my wife? Are you cheating on me?” Natasha teased to make her smile, raising an eyebrow and leaning against the kitchen counter.
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“Oh, come on.” Jules rolled her eyes when she saw Nat laugh.  “I don't even have the time to do it.”
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 “Good to know, my love.” Natasha reached for the knife to cut a few pieces of cheese so they could share it while the pasta finished cooking.
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“And I wouldn't either, you're… everything I want and more. You’re my everything.” Jules smiled tenderly, taking her wife's hand and placing a kiss on it.
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“Tell me what's going on...”  This time Natasha spoke seriously, tucking a lock of Jules hair behind her ear.  “What's going on in your head? ”
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Jules smiled tenderly, but her pretty brown eyes turned teary and that alarmed the redhead.
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“I’m just…” Jules tried to say but couldn't, just ended up shrugging. 
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"Take your time."
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The brunette sighed trying not to cry and decided to keep going, finishing cooking the bolognese sauce.
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“They called me to let me know that Y/N got out of rehab tonight.” Jules licked her lips, waiting for her wife's response. She hoped Nat wouldn't be upset.
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“And she called you?” Natasha took a piece of cheese and handed one to her beloved. “Did she say if she wanted us to go pick her or something?”
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“Nothing...” Jules ate the cheese, sitting on the counter next to Natasha. “Zero.”
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“Did you call her?” The Russian sighed deeply, also remaining thoughtful.
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“Should I?” She hesitated. “Maybe? I- I don't know, I don't want to pressure her… but I feel so guilty, you know? What if she hates me?” Jules shook her head and covered her face, diving into the crisis.
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“Hey… Lyubov?”  Natasha settled in front of Jules and took her hands. “She would never hate you.”
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“I know.” Jules whimpered, her lips trembled.  “I just… she’s my sister, and I love her. I didn’t want to leave her alone there but I had to.”
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“I know… and she knows. She was there because she needs to heal.” She hugged her.  “For the second and last time, I hope.”
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Jules shook her head, clearing her throat, all that anguish in her throat. “I feel like I should help her, be there for her.”
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“And has that ever worked?” Maybe that was too sincere, she didn't want to be cruel but that was the truth. Every time Jules tried to understand her, to help her, Y/N ended up screwing her up much worse.  “Jules, you almost lost your job in the hospital because of Y/N.”
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“She's lost so much, Nat.”  Jules just exhaled and walked away so she could turn off the stove, dinner was ready. “She lost Wanda, my mother, herself in that place...”
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Both began to organize everything so that they could have dinner under the candlelights, a quite romantic atmosphere.
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“You too.” The redhead reminded her, Jules almost always forgot to put herself first. Nat adored that, she loved the way she was, that was one of the reasons why she fell in love but also a big reason why Jules suffered later. “You lost a lot too, all of us. We all did.”
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“But I have you.” She sighed, taking her wife's hand.  “I’ve lost too much but I have you.”
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“I can't believe you gave me a chance.” Smiling tenderly, Natasha took Jules's face in her hands to watch her closely. “I'm really lucky, you know?”
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“Oh, come on. Don't be all sweet talk with me, Romanoff, I didn't forget you were almost late.” Jules rolled her eyes teasingly.
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“But really… I never thought that I could…you know…having a family could be so… good.” Nat smiled and kissed her forehead.
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“Well, I didn't think it was that good either.” The brown-eyed woman narrowed her eyes, sipping some wine.  “I mean, it's not like my family has been complicated.”  
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“Your mom was lovely.” Natasha added, playing around a bit.
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“Oh, my mother was wonderful. I'm just a cheap copy.”
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They both laughed trying to lose themselves in the beautiful memories.
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“I wish she was at our wedding. Both of them. Mom and Y/N. ” Jules sighed, adjusting Nat’s shirt collar.
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“You looked beautiful.” The russian redhead remembered one of the most beautiful moments of her life. And also one of the craziest, she wasn't going to deny it, she never imagined herself married.  “You still look beautiful…”
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“And you are the most beautiful, and the best lover I have ever had.”
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“I'm the only one you had.” Natasha rolled her eyes.  
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“Yeah… that's not entirely true.” Jules smiled, she pecked her wife's lips and walked away.   Sure she was playing with her, Nat bit her bottom lip knowing that was true. She wasn't the only one in her wife's life.
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“Tonight  I'm going to fuck you like never before!” Natasha screamed and chased her into the living room, making Jules squeal.
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“Natasha Romanoff!”
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“What? It was 36  hours without you!”
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the next day...
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Y/N parked the car in front of that beautiful house. She smiled seeing the beautiful flowers in the garden, remembering how much her auntie Claire loved violets but above all peach blossoms.
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In the background the song 'Mother Mother' by Tracy Bonham  tortured her on the radio.
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‘Mother mother are you listening? Just a phone call to ease your mind. Life is perfect, never better, distance making the heart grow blind. When you sent me off to see the world, were you scared that I might get hurt?
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Y/N clenched her jaw.
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Mother, mother can you hear me? Sure I'm sober, sure I'm sane. Life is perfect never better, still your daughter, still the same. If I tell you what you want to hear, will it help you to sleep well at night? Are you sure that I'm your perfect dear? Now just cuddle up and sleep tight.
ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ
Just listening to her aunt's last goodbye in that airport lounge, screaming that she loved them and Y/N couldn't even say 'me too'. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to stay calm. ㅤㅤ
I'm hungry. I'm dirty. I'm losing my mind, and everything's fine!
ㅤㅤ
Y/N took one of the cigarettes and lit it, taking a deep puff to calm the anxiety. But that tobacco tasted so... disgusting and unpleasant and boring that she ended up throwing it out the window. Couldn't even find shelter in cigarettes anymore.
ㅤㅤ
She remained thoughtful for a few minutes, trying to gather the necessary courage to face one of the most difficult situations of her life.
As the raindrops began to fall against the glass, Y/N was lost in memories again.
ㅤㅤ
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Four years ago… (ten years after being rescued)
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Walking around like a caged beast, Y/N movements were abrupt, her eyes so red and huge dark circles that made her look like a huge angry panda. It was a lovely room with a view, straight to the beautiful ocean. At least that recovery center was one of the best.
ㅤㅤ
She was no longer the eighteen-year-old shiny girl, full of hope and a bright future. Y/N just turned twenty-eighth in fact, and her life was a chaotic mess out of control.
ㅤㅤ
An enormous pressure on her chest screamed louod that she was going to die, she wanted to cry, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to hit something. The ups and downs of moods were beginning to make her a prisoner.
ㅤㅤ
“You must get me out of here. No, no, you HAVE to get me out ot here!” Y/N screamed in despair; her hands trembled. She was wearing a stupid floral dress so…fucking soft.  Her clothes had apparently been taken until she got out of rehab. “Where are my clothes? Where’s MY jacket? I NEED MY JACKET. That’s my lucky jacket!”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N hadn't been the same since they'd been rescued. Everything in her life had been completely destroyed. Her life, her heart, her soul.
ㅤㅤ
The only ones in that room were Natasha and Jules, trying to calm her down since she woke up.
ㅤㅤ
“Y/N, you must listen to me.” Jules tried to explain but the dark haired woman just moved closer to her.  
ㅤㅤ
“Listen to you? I already heard you!” Y/N swallowed, her throat still dry. “This is not fair, I woke up here. I wanna GO!”
ㅤㅤ
“Y/N, you overdosed on cocaine and alcohol! Your heart hardly resists it.” Jules sighed, covering her face to seek the little patience that was left inside her. “The worst you've ever had, the girl who was with you in the hotel room called an ambulance and you almost died. They did CPR on you! YOU DIED!”
ㅤㅤ
“Jules, please.” She licked her lips and took Jules hand, trying to be as sweet and manipulative as she had ever been. “I'll be good, just get me out of here. I'm not going to recover in a place like this… this is hell.”
ㅤㅤ
“They gave you CPR, Y/N! Your heart stopped for a fucking minute, DON'T ASK ME TO UNDERSTAND YOU!” Jules finally exploded, her eyes completely brimming with tears. She removed Y/N's hand and walked away from her.
ㅤㅤ
Natasha was sitting on one of the chairs in the room with nothing to say. She already tried many times to save her friend, over and over again. She talked to Y/N, took her out of the police station three times and the last time Nat saved her ass because Y/N stole drugs from the hospital where Jules worked. Y/N was a complete mess and even though Natasha loved her best friend, she was beginning to think that maybe Jules was being too kind to her cousin.
ㅤㅤ
And Natasha would never abandon a friend, even in her worst moments, but Y/N refused time and time again to receive help, leaving her with no way out.
ㅤㅤ
“Nat, come on. Talk to her.” Y/N sought support from her best friend, approaching to kneel in front of the redhead. “Please, help me here.”
ㅤㅤ
“I think Jules is right.” Nat said with that deep voice, looking out the window. She couldn't even recognize her. “You need help. We tried it...”
ㅤㅤ
“You can't leave me here.” whispered Y/N, completely devastated.
ㅤㅤ
“Y/N, listen to me.” Jules moved closer to her and cupped her face in her hands. Tenderly, she traced the scar on her friend's face.  “You’re the person I have loved the most. You’re… you’re my sister, my everything. But you have to stop doing this to yourself, you're hurting yourself. And I'm tired of losing the people I love, I'm not going to lose you too.”
ㅤㅤ
"Talk to these people, come on, they'll understand.” Y/N tried to convince Jules one more time, taking her hand. Jules was a pushover, with a cute pout and a promise she'd take Y/N home for a few days, and that's it. “You’re my only direct relative.”
ㅤㅤ
“No.” Jules finally said, sticking to her decision for the first time.
ㅤㅤ
“What?” The taller girl frowned.
ㅤㅤ
“No, I won't.” The brunette shook her head.  “I think you should stay here.”
ㅤㅤ
“Jules, it's not time for jokes… I need you to help me with this.”
ㅤㅤ
Natasha just watched them, sighing relaxed when she noticed that her girlfriend finally took the necessary courage to do the best.
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“I have done my best to help you.” Jules tried to be strong and for the first time, face the person she loved the most in the world even if it meant earning her hatred.  “I’ve given you everything.”
ㅤㅤ
“Do you think it has been easy?!” Y/N exploded again, screaming in despair. “I'VE LOST EVERYTHING!”
ㅤㅤ
“So did I.” The brown-eyed girl swallowed, keeping her gaze on Y/N's.
ㅤㅤ
“Oh, poor baby Jules, with a comfy house and a wonderful mother. Sure she’s having a bad time!” Y/N yelled at her, changing into a much more volatile temper.  “The only woman who ever cared and loved me DIED!”
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Jules clenched her jaw and couldn't stop the tears from finally falling.
ㅤㅤ
“My mother, may she rest in peace… my mother died of sadness while we were lost in the forest. Her heart said enough and I couldn't attend her wake because I was with you in the fucking taiga, hunting blackbirds to eat!” Jules cried, her voice shaking with the anger she was finally able to let out.  “And the only thing I have left is my sister, who only thinks about sinking into cocaine and alcohol! Being so fucking selfish!”
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“Oh! Because you’re the good one, right? You’re just a fucking goody two shoes, Jules.” Y/N hissed, completely manipulated by withdrawal. “You've never dirty your hands, have you? Don't look at me as if I'm the disaster in this family…”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N leaned in to whisper under her breath, coming close to her friend's face. “Don't forget that I was in the forest too. I know what you did. You're no better than me.”
ㅤㅤ
Jules swallowed, that had been the worst low blow. "And I'll take that pain with me until I die."
ㅤㅤ
“Okay, enough. Let's go.” Natasha stepped in between them, taking Jules's arm so they could leave.
ㅤㅤ
“Oh, Natasha Romanoff,  knight in shining armor.” Y/N mocked, laughing sarcastically. “You're suddenly so brave, standing up for her after you used her like your whore.”
ㅤㅤ
Sighing deeply, Natasha opened the door for Jules to go out first and then closed it, leaving only them inside.
ㅤㅤ
“I know what drugs withdrawal and anxiety are talking right now, so everything you say to me is not going to affect me. But if it will affect Jules and later you're going to feel like shit because of it.”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N grinned mockingly. “Do you remember when I used to find her crying in the bathroom after practice because you loved fucking girls in her fucking face?”
ㅤㅤ
Natasha shook her head. “Y/N, I love you. You’re my best friend, you have been with me my whole life… We have spent the best and worst moments together… but fuck off.”
ㅤㅤ
The redhead approached Y/N, facing her for the first time without fear.
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“A long time ago you told me that…” The russian whispered, getting lost in one of those memories. “You told me to stay away from her because I was going to hurt her, that she was a good girl and I didn't deserve her, and you didn't kick my ass because I was your best friend. We were at the party before the trip...”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N raised an eyebrow, fearless but her hands were still shaking. Suddenly the heat and cold began to hit her body but she didn't say anything, she just kept still.
ㅤㅤ
“Now I say the same to you. Stay away from her… Stay here, get some help. Unlike us, she has a good heart, even after the chaos we experienced there... So stop messing with Jules... or I'll forget you were ever my best friend.” Natasha whispered. For the first time they faced each other, and for the first time Y/N had enough courage to face Natasha.
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Y/N narrowed her eyes.  “Oh, you threaten me.”
ㅤㅤ
“Not a threat, Y/N.” The redhead just walked towards the door and left, but not before saying: “Stay and take care of yourself.”
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Y/N just lay there, screaming for two whole hours, crying, trying to get away, throwing everything in sight. She ended up curled up between the sheets, sweating cold and praying that all that pain would end soon.
ㅤㅤ
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NOW
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Y/N swallowed hard as she knocked on the door. Holding that box in her hands, she remained still.
ㅤㅤ
What if they kicked her out? What if Jules hated her and yelled at her? What if Natasha kicked her ass? Well, she could deal with that but not with the emotional consequences that came after it.
ㅤㅤ
Everything was left behind when the door opened, revealing that completely surprised brown-eyed brunette.
ㅤㅤ
“Hi…” Y/N mumbled.
ㅤㅤ
Without waiting even another second, Jules jumped forward to hug Y/N so tight. Closing their eyes, they both let themselves be carried away by that warm feeling of the reunion.
ㅤㅤ
“I’m so sorry.” Jules whispered feeling the tears fall down her face again.
ㅤㅤ
“I'm the one who should apologize to you.” Y/N said once they parted, wiping away her friend's tears. She smiled drying her own tears as well. “Really sorry. You didn't deserve all that. Everything I put you through…it wasn't fair.”
ㅤㅤ
Natasha just watched everything from the hallway, with her arms crossed.
ㅤㅤ
Jules nodded, inviting her inside. “We have a lot to talk about.”
ㅤㅤ
“I brought you this. I remember… they were… your favourites.” Y/N gave her a box of her favorite pastries.
ㅤㅤ
Jules took the patries box and kissed her friend's cheek before walking away to lead her into the kitchen. Not before whispering to her wife: ‘be nice’
ㅤㅤ
“Hey.” Y/N said quite nervously, feeling the stern look of her ex-best friend.
ㅤㅤ
“Hey.” Nat sighed.
ㅤㅤ
Y/N nodded, perhaps with the russian it would be a bit more difficult. And she didn't complain, she was a bitch to both of them and Y/N deserved it. If she wanted to make up things with them, she had to take the slow road.
ㅤㅤ
‘Redemption is a rocky path’.
ㅤㅤ
“I see that... married life is going very well.” Y/N pointed to some pictures in the hallway. Many of them were of Nat and Jules in some very nice places, the beach, honeymoon, some concert, their wedding.
ㅤㅤ
“Yeah... We have been married for three years.”
ㅤㅤ
“You’re really in love with her.” Y/N smiled tenderly.
ㅤㅤ
“Madly.” Nat walked with her into the kitchen, but before entering she stopped Y/N, whispering: “Are you sure you can do this? I don't want her to suffer. She can't afford the stress right now.”
ㅤㅤ
“Why? I mean... Is she… is she pregnant or something?” Y/N was shocked, maybe she was misinterpreting it?
ㅤㅤ
“What? No, I- I don’t think so. We’ve tried but didn’t work… Anyway,  she’s… having too much stress lately.” Natasha said a bit nervously, shaking her head.  “Can you do it this time, yes or no?”
ㅤㅤ
“Yes, this is… this is real.” Y/N nodded quickly.
ㅤㅤ
Natasha felt her soul coming to her body and inhaled deeply, entering the kitchen. The exquisite smell of the coffee awakened all her senses.
ㅤㅤ
“Coffee?” Asked Jules.
ㅤㅤ
“Yes, please.” Y/N smiled kindly, sitting down at the breakfast table. Natasha just stood there, sitting at the kitchen counter.
ㅤㅤ
“I'm really glad to see you, I'm really glad to see  you both happy and well.” Y/N began to say, Jules approached bringing her a coffee cup and some pastries for both, sitting down, ready to listen to what y/n had to say. “I can see that you two love each other very much and that… fills my heart.”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N licked her lips and took courage to continue. Jules just reached out to take her hand, but Natasha kept looking at her like a bird of prey.
ㅤㅤ
“I wanted to start by apologizing to you two.” Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling so guilty.  “I have been a very selfish person all these years, I know we have all suffered a lot but I locked myself in my pain and loss, pushing you away.”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N swallowed, feeling how her voice cracked due to anguish. “Jules, you’re my sister, you always have been. We are cousins but we were raised by the same woman...an amazing woman who broke my heart when she died. I'm sorry for leaving you alone.”
ㅤㅤ
y/n felt the tears fall but she quickly wiped them away with her hand.
ㅤㅤ
“Natasha, you are my best friend, my other part, my sis and my everything.” She tried to be strong and not burst into tears but it was impossible.  “And I have failed you. We have grown together, we have always been the two against the world. I'm sorry for leaving you alone. Especially in the worst and the best moments of your lives... I'm truly sorry.”
ㅤㅤ
Needless to say, both women were struggling not to cry too. Natasha cleared her throat, holding back tears.
ㅤㅤ
“I failed you both, put you through hell and…and I'm so sorry.” Y/N cleared her throat, inhaling deeply to continue speaking.  “I don't expect you to forgive me easily or let me be a part of your lives just like that, just being able to do this is already huge... A big step for me.”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N was silent, noticing that none of them knew what to say. Words were unnecessary, the only thing they could express everything they felt were actions.
ㅤㅤ
Natasha and Jules came up to her and hugged Y/N tightly, embracing her in a warmth that Y/N hadn't felt for a long time. The three of them continued crying hugging each other for a long time, saying everything they felt that way.
ㅤㅤ
The three of them whispered words of support and love, taking their time to find each other. They spent a long time chatting about their lives, Natasha told her that the marriage was going amazingly. Also that they thought about having a child, but gave up when the last attempt a short time ago had been in vain, Jules had a miscarriage after weeks of gestation.
ㅤㅤ
They decided not to try again since with their jobs it was quite difficult. Natasha was promoted to Lieutenant and everything was more difficult, Jules was now one of the best surgeons at the Presbyterian.
ㅤㅤ
Y/N explained everything they experienced in that rehab center. She had met people who helped her a lot, it was good, even though sometimes she felt it was all too overwhelming. Y/N was fighting because this time she wanted to do the right thing and because this time, she had a purpose. But now it's time to tell some truths, although they could broke the bubble in which they were all now.
ㅤㅤ
“B-But I didn't come just because I went out and wanted to apologize… I mean I needed to do it but also… this.” She sighed and took something from her leather jacket, handing it to Natasha. “This was mailed to me two weeks ago.”
ㅤㅤ
Natasha took that postcard in her hands and looked at it curiously. The same postcard with the Canadian Rockies and a huge 'Wish you were here'. Behind the card that red symbol.
ㅤㅤ
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“The fuck is that?” Jules whispered terrified.
ㅤㅤ
Even though she didn't seem too happy to have to, Nat looked up to tell Y/N the truth.  “We got one too.”
ㅤㅤ
“We did? What?” That surprised Jules, who opened her eyes wide in disbelief.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ
Natasha just nodded and walked towards her briefcase, looking for something. She came back giving their postcard to Y/N.
ㅤㅤ
“You hid that from me?” Jules exclaimed so annoyed, getting up to look at the card.
ㅤㅤ
“Trouble in paradise.” Y/N smiled in amusement.
ㅤㅤ
“Shut up, Y/N.” they both said at once.
ㅤㅤ
“Just kidding.” Y/N just raised their hands in peace.
ㅤㅤ
“I did it because I didn't want to upset you.” Natasha approached her wife, who was quite annoyed with her arms crossed. “It was when we were going through that very…difficult time. Wanda is already upset enough with a journalist who’s asking questions.”
ㅤㅤ
“Wanda got one too?” The mention of Wanda caught Y/N's attention, feeling her heart pound when she heard her name. Just one mention of her and her world fell apart. Jules decided to ignore Nat, just looked at Y/N and drank some coffee.
ㅤㅤ
“I don't know... She didn't say anything about the postcard.” Natasha sighed.  “So... What do you think?”
ㅤㅤ
Y/N shrugged.  “I've been asking myself these weeks… What does the person who sent these postcards want?”
ㅤㅤ
“To scare us, to mess with our heads, make us think about... what happened out there.” Nat swallowed, they seemed quite distressed at the memory. The things that happened in that place were terrible.
ㅤㅤ
Y/N clears her throat. “It's obviously a threat.”
ㅤㅤ
“Who's Christine Everhart?” Jules asked taking one of the cards Nat pulled out of her wallet.
ㅤㅤ
“That’s the one… She claims to be a reporter, but I think that's a lie.”  The redhead drank some coffee, showing both of them what she got from investigating that woman.  
ㅤㅤ
“Yes, I heard that a journalist wanted to interview me at the reha center but was denied. She's been nosing around.”
ㅤㅤ
“She claims she has a book deal, but... Well, how could she know about...?” Natasha took the postcard and pointed to the symbol. “You know.”
ㅤㅤ
“Maybe somebody talked.”  Y/N murmured something thoughtful. But who? who among those who had managed to survive could have spoken? Not many would be happy to tell what they did in that place. 
ㅤㅤ
“I don’t know. But no one can know what we did.” Jules said and the three looked at each other. 
ㅤㅤ
Y/N sighed and took both postcards.  “We should investigate this further, but I think someone is out to screw us over.”
ㅤㅤ
Staring at that landscape, the mountains, the lake and the huge conifers. Y/N felt a chill remembering one of the best and worst moments of her life.
ㅤㅤ
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17 YEARS AGO...
ㅤㅤ
Sighing deeply, Y/N shifted in her seat but the terrifying screams woke her from sleep. Y/N opened her eyes to find a heartbreaking image that would haunt her for life.
ㅤㅤ Her eyes widened as her body jerked from the extreme turbulence the plane was having. The backpacks and their belongings began to fall, terrifying all the girls even more.
ㅤㅤ
“The Lord is my shepherd, and even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...” One of the girls prayed constantly, as if that would save her.
ㅤㅤ
Beside her, Natasha was deeply asleep. Perhaps because she took one of the sleeping pills that she also gave Y/N hours ago.
ㅤㅤ
“Nat, Nat…”  She shook Natasha to wake her up, also putting on her the emergency oxygen mask. “NATASHA WAKE UP!”
ㅤㅤ
A shuddering beep indicated that the plane was falling, Natasha finally woke up and clung to the seat. Y/N watched as Jules and Daisy cried and clutched at each other, leaning in and preparing for the crash landing. Wanda and Pietro, with their masks too, expecting the worst.
ㅤㅤ Y/N tried to be brave or maybe because she was in shock, her heart was pounding, eyes wide open, her pupils dilated.
ㅤㅤ
The door flung open and one of the girls in the aisle flew out of the plane, making many to scream in terror.
Another tried to get up but fell rolling down the aisle hitting the beverage cart, passing out. She couldn't get up and those who tried to help her couldn't either.
ㅤㅤ
The beeps, the lights, the screams.
ㅤㅤ
Y/N took Natasha’s hand and squeezed it, closing her eyes and expecting the worst.
ㅤㅤ
Wanda finally opened the window to see, feeling her stomach drop at the sight of the tops of the huge trees. The taiga that surrounded that place gave her chills. She felt like she was short of breath, panic was choking her. The heart was beating so hard that Wanda thought it would finally stop and allow her to rest, to die of fear.
ㅤㅤ
The sokovian screamed in fear, noticing how the plane was getting closer to the ground. Counting down the seconds before it finally crashed. She looked at Pietro who just squeezed her hand and closed his eyes, whispering words in Sokovian.  He was as terrified as she was.
ㅤㅤ
And the plane finally crash-landed hitting some trees, a horrible screeching sound, everything went black.
ㅤㅤ
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Okay, let's go little by little. Soon we will see more of the woods. Well, slowly verything is settling down.
There's more stuff coming, and more about the young Yellowjackets. Remember that this will not be 100% the same as the tv show, I want to make it interesting and not boring.
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the cutest and lovely people tags ✨ @kaiidth-wandika @yourfavunsub @pawiie @fanboy7794 @sunsol-22 @scarlettbitchx @arcturusseer @imnotasuperhero @chtte @lesbians-in-outer-space @starry-night17
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Thank you for reading me, guys. 🐻
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cod thoughts :)
Gaz is defo the coolest CG. He always has fidgets and has a sixth sense for knowing what you need. And this man, he makes AWESOME snacks. Even if it's just carrots and ranch he makes it seem SO tasty
Simon lets you stay up past your bedtime with him if he's working late. He has you on his lap and lets you color on his tattoos. He was a strict screentime rule though because he wants his kiddo to be active. Sometimes he’ll just walk by and slip the ipad from your hands!
Price, unlike Si is very strict with bedtime. His little needs to be rested. But he’ll take time to tuck you in and read you a bedtime story. He has a few old kids books from his childhood, they even still have “To John” written on the first page. (velveteen rabbit for sure)
And SOAP. He manages to match his little energy whenever. Your tired? No problem lets watch a movie and a have a chill day. Energy and wanna run about? Great! Park time! He comes up with the best games to entertain his little one and it's never a boring day with Soap. He also loves playing video games with you, he'll let you pick your Mario character first (even if it's his favorite)
OMG SO MANY COD THOUGHTS, I LOVE YOU SM RN!!! These ideas are just ❤️🙌🏻
All I can think of now is sitting with Ghost and him with so much discretion taking the screen away and it taking a solid ten seconds to even realise.
Gaz having a sixth sense for what's needed just makes so much sense to me 😂
Also Price reading a bed time story!!! Just yes. His voice is Incredibly calming, he has the best story reading voice!!!
I also feel like Soap just comes up with the most random ways to keep entertained too. Like he turns random things/chores ect into really fun games.
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Text
Romanoff's Delight
_Chapter 1_ Natasha Romanoff x f!reader
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Warning: Mentions and descriptions of abuse, and eating disorder. I think that's it. If there are any more, I should add that's also a trigger warning, lmk. I do not control what you consume online. You have been warned!
A/n: If any of the content is triggering for you, do not read or skip the y/n pov part since that is the only part of this fic that I put a warning for. If you chose to read this fic and have been triggered, please seek help and do not send any hate to me or any other amazing mutual writers out there just b/c you chose to ignore warnings! I will come after you if any of you do! You have been warned!
A/sn: age gap relationship. Nat is 33 and r is 20. Sry if i failed to put this up earlier 😅
A/sn 2: This fic was heavily inspired by Bazzi's new album Infinite dream. If y'all are interested plz go listen to it on Spotify or apple music or anywhere it's available. Also, I found it interesting that there is a dessert out there called Strawberry Romanoff and its origin is really interesting. so I was inspired to name it after our fav Tasha Bear.
<! --- --- > - means the start and end of anyone's pov
Word count: 3,906 🤷‍♀️ If any of that matters. Also sry if it's very long for a first chapter 😅
________________
"Does it hurt?" Asked the rabbit. "Sometimes," said the skin horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are real, you don't mind being hurt." - Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit
_Earth 616 Norway_ 2016_
As Natasha arrived back at her safehouse from the store, she finished the rest of her coffee and briefly prepared herself before leaving the car for anything that could be secretly waiting for her inside. With a careful step, she entered her trailer house as quietly as possible while holding her gun in front as a safe way to take point of the area if it ever was unsafe. When Natasha had come across her bedroom, she had let her guard down when she had heard her friend snoring away on her bed. Just then, as she kept her movements as quiet as possible, a look of mischief bore her face as she got closer to see if her friend, Mason, was still asleep before lightly kicking him awake, causing him to gasp in surprise.
"You're in my bed."
"I'm.. I'm not under the covers," he says to justify his reason for sleeping on her bed, even if he wasn't under the covers. Yet, that didn't mean she wasn't unhappy about it.
"Got everything on my list?"
"Got passports, entry visas, a couple of local driver's licenses. Mix and match; you should be able to stretch it to 20 or so identities."
"Fanny Longbottom?"
"What?"
"What, are you 12?"
"That's a legitimate name," he says, chuckling. "We got a generator outside. It's petrol-powered, and septic tank will flush in a couple of weeks. But you know, I have a guy coming for that. You have to haul your rubbish into town. It's just a 20-minute drive. And I've got your basic hardware kit stashed under the stairs."
"Nice," she says as gratefully as she can without giving away how distraught she is at how easy it was for the Avengers to break apart and take sides over a political deal multiple countries had signed. However, that quickly fails as Mason immediately senses that not everything is ok. Or so he thinks, as Natasha had only ever called him when she needed something, nothing more. Though she longed for a family she's never had, the Avengers she strove so hard to keep together make it as though it wasn't as it seemed or something she hoped it would be.
As Natasha deflected Mason's attempts to get her to open up a little about how she felt about the situation, Mason soon realised that maybe he should stop trying as she's only kept him at arm's length—making him walk away disapprovingly. That night as she's settled in, she cracks a beer and heats a can of soup. At the same time, she watches one of her favourite James Bond movies on her laptop to comfort her as her concerns about her life begin to come to the forefront of her mind in the hopes of straying off any nightmares she might have tonight. With the stress of her situation and the mail brought from the Budapest safe house, the last thing she needs is a nightmare to deal with when she's spent the past few days staying out of Secretary Ross's radar.
_Earth 01 New York_2016_
<!--- Y/n's pov
When I returned to the house from school and settled in, my mind began drifting over to the many binders that contained photographs of our so-called family since I had lost all interest in finishing any of my homework. As I picked one off my bookshelf in my bedroom, I began to look through all the pictures of my very early years from the day they took me in. When I reached the end of my early years, especially my first picture in the whole album, I always found it strange that there was nothing written or even an image of how I was found or why I was left at their doorstep, leaving me to die potentially. However, as tempting as it is to think about all possible scenarios of why they chose not to tell me or leave anything regarding my origins, my feelings about my longing for a home, better life and relationships with other people that I could never have become increasingly evident. Let alone accept that I would never be accepted because I wasn't normal like everyone else. Especially the fact that I have eyes that are two completely different colours already says a lot. My right eye is green, while my left eye is brown. Heterochromia is what they call it. However, mine was complete rather than the normal variation of partial or split, leaving me to wonder which eye colour I was supposed to be born with since my body clearly couldn't choose one.
That night as I lay restless, I pulled out a picture of my beloved grandfather from underneath my pillow, savouring all the stories I'd heard about how close I was with him. And not to get too philosophically profound, but from observing families afar from my times outside, I'd like to think that from the time we were born, the world would feel it was in our hands. Something we can grasp within our hands, new, exciting, and worth exploring. Something I think we once had, our first experiences of the world take the form of love, some of its joy, and may even warmth. Others' first experiences, however, are of the less fortunate. They may not even know that feeling of love, joy or warmth until they become adults. However, at only five years old, nobody once told me to savour that sliver of a taste of love and happiness while it lasted.
Because once it's gone, you can never get it back. Since the day of my grandfather's funeral, I realised my childhood had ended, and so did a piece of my heart. From that day on, my family was never the same. Or should I say my "foster parents?" Ever since they had mysteriously taken me in, I've never really known what to call them since they've never felt like family to me, let alone be anything but parental figures in my life. I've known them to constantly fight while going on a spree of breaking anything they can get their hands on and treating me like I wasn't their own. That didn't mean I wasn't at least grateful for giving me some of my basic needs, no matter how much of that was out of pity. Since the funeral, they began to fight more often, my father's family started getting into each other's throats, and lastly, his family began targeting my mother again as if she were the cause of my loving grandfather's passing. And soon enough, I was also thrown into the deep end.
Little did I know, that would also mean that I would lose every piece of who I was or what it felt like was happening. Though that would be the first of many funerals, what struck me at the time was how I could never wrap my mind around others' perspectives of how or why people love to say and believe that children do not understand and have the concept of death. Still, to this day, I can't understand those others' perspectives of how children understand death. I've always seen it as a naive frame of thinking of how children see and understand the world. And quite frankly, I find that to be insulting. However, I am not a child anymore, and I find the feeling to be mutual regarding children. Nevertheless, that doesn't excuse them for condescending behaviour to outright call a child stupid for a concept they may or may not have. Yet, I may be biased to my own experience at that age, whereas I think children at five years old can somewhat grasp the concept of death just as much as they can understand love and joy.
In the year or two that followed, I began to have unhealthy feelings of self-consciousness, frequent thoughts of suicide and contemplated self-harm in many ways. At the time, I could not define the meaning of these feelings that were happening simultaneously. That is until I vocalised the word depressed to myself by asking myself if I was depressed. Yet, I was still in the process of understanding all those feelings and why I was always in a distressed state that caused me to cry myself to sleep, no matter how terrified I was to sleep alone at night. I even began weighing myself every week to see if I had met my mother's expected weight she wanted me to be causing my relationship with food to be compromised. Gradually, I started reducing the amount I ate every day. That's until I only ate half of what my small plate could contain, just like what my mother hoped I would. Yet the more guilty I felt about it as I craved more and ate more in secret.
As I grew older, those feelings of depression and its friend anxiety grew more unbearable, causing me not ever to eat whenever those feelings started to spiral inside my head and eventually led me to skip school altogether. I would also have days where I only ate two meals a day or did not even have a proper meal. I would even go on for days on meals consisting of peanut butter sandwiches or sandwiches containing only butter and sugar, only to briefly switch to appropriate meals as I was told by my mother to avoid any added blame or abuse.
To add to the pain I got through daily, my mother would even say the most demeaning things about me since the funeral, leaving me to feel like they were true even after all those years. And when I started to believe those lies, I began looking at myself in the mirror and seeing myself as the monster she saw in me. When I turned twelve, that's when I started to realise how twisted my mother's ways were. Then before I fully understood what was happening to me, I was found in an expected predicament of being forced to psychologically convince myself that I was romantically and sexually attracted to boys, not girls, when I was seen blushing one day at school over some boy I never even liked. In reality, I've always been romantically and sexually attracted to girls long before I was even aware that homosexuality was highly frowned upon. I even once cursed whoever had given me powers when they occasionally flared up. I never knew where they came from, much less who my birth parents were. Even at that moment, I questioned what it meant to be home or even to be a family. As the reality of the moment crashed down on me, that's when I knew the answer I'd been looking for lay within my heart. This torn-apart family, this house, and this life are none of those things I was made to believe. Hell, even this reality I was living in didn't feel real. Not when I spent most of my life without knowing what it's like to have feelings and be separated from the outside world.
Meanwhile, my older brother had it easy—way too easy for my taste, at least for me. I know it's shocking to me, too, to see that I'm not the only child. In fact, my brother, Dominic, is their only biological child. He's everything every parent wants in a child, even more so for a boy. Although I'd like to disagree, I'd admit I love him as much as they do. Both of us had our fair share of sibling rivalry and heartfelt moments. However, I can never agree on or bear at any given moment how easy it is for all of our family and extended family to argue and defend him as if he were their lord and saviour for the family's good reputation. Yet, I somehow put a bad name simply by breathing. That isn't to say that I despise him for being the golden child. It wasn't because of this toxic concept of family that made me love him, but what he did for me, or at least tried for my sake, as he was the only one in my dysfunctional family that saw me as his family whom he loved.
Since then, my days have felt like nothing but a constant mind-numbing nightmare. Though, the universe occasionally likes to sprinkle in bittersweet moments to mess with my mind to make it seem like I'm invertedly going insane. But if I were, I wouldn't be surprised if it was caused by the kind of life I have. Although lately, these days have felt a lot more gruelling than usual. You frustratedly sighed as you put your grandfather's photo underneath your pillow and got out of bed, knowing you wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anytime soon and that it's been hours since being woken up by your parents fighting again. As you rummaged around your room to find something to distract you, there was only so much you could do to make your life a little better.
Sure, listening to music does help cope with the noise, but not enough to make it better by any means truly. For drawing, it's nice but not enough to give you some substance to occupy your time and mind before wondering when it's safe to go back to sleep. Then there's writing. Many of us use a powerful tool that some take for granted. At the same time, writing can give us pleasure. Yet, people don't know that writers such as myself write and create these imaginary worlds because we crave to be able to not only have a better life but also to wish to live in a different world without any setbacks. However, this hour wouldn't be great to do as well since, you know, it requires peace and being able to hear yourself think. As your parents' fights got a bit louder as the night dragged on, you resorted to listening to music, daydreaming of what it would be like to live in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, with a few changes, and absentmindedly making paper stars.  
Little did you know that your and Natasha's life would change that night as you added more green stars into your jar while she wrote in her journal.  --- >
After Natasha had written in her journal for the night after watching two James bond movies, the power in her trailer home faded out just as she was about to start another film. "oh great.." she grumbles while her cat, Liho, briefly looks at her as if asking what she's complaining about before going back to sleep on the couch.
She gets up and changes out her pants for cargo joggers, a light jacket, and light-up gloves that wrap around her hands so that she doesn't need to bring anything else before putting on her boots to assess the issue or if she begrudgingly needs to get more gas for the rest of the night. As she stepped out, she was met with a gush of cold wind that immediately made her shiver, and she wished that the power to her safe house didn't go out until morning. Yet, like all adults, she puts up with it and grabs the hardware kit from under the stairs. After assessing the issue, Natasha begrudgingly cursed Mason for getting her a crappy generator that's said to last for 12 hours when it only lasted for five hours when the tank was full. She detached the generator link, put her empty gas container into the passenger seat of her car, and drove into town for more gas.
When Natasha came back, Liho eagerly greeted her once she opened the door, causing Natasha to always pick her up so that she could even step inside the house. And just like always, she fondly smiles at Liho's antics every time she comes and greets her. Even if Natasha wasn't gone that long, she has a small reminder that she has someone always waiting for her at home, furry companion or not; it's one of the small things she cherishes. Once she has gotten herself comfortable on the couch again, this time with Liho in her lap, she unexpectedly let out a yawn before clicking on a popular series on Netflix, Stranger Things, to watch just until she falls asleep.
Meanwhile, y/n finished making another green paper star and dumped it into a jar containing other paper stars she had made. Deciding that it was enough stars for the evening, Y/n securely screwed the lid back on and decided to return to bed. However, after she got up and stretched, she let out a big yawn before taking off her headphones, hoping that her parents had finally gone to their bedrooms for the night. As Y/n ensured they were asleep, she sighed in relief before peeking at the clock to see what time it was.
3:00 A.M.
It read in bold red, making it mock Y/n for even being awake at this hour, just like it did to Spongebob. With that thought, Y/n let out a deep breath as a subtle gesture to remind herself that she'll be ok. Worries and stress still plagued Y/n, even in the back of her mind, so Y/n grabbed Ryan, her stuffed lion, into her arms and finally went back to sleep.
As Natasha decided to opt for her bed instead of the couch that night, she finally lays peacefully asleep with Liho curled up at the foot of her bed. As both women drifted deeper to sleep, Y/n and Natasha found themselves at two different ends of the same ethereal dreamscape.
"Woah… Where am I?" Y/n says, astonished at how ethereal everything looks. As a feather falls near her eye, she looks up and sees flower petals of all different colours and white feathers rain from the sky.
Not too soon after, she's greeted by her stuffed lion that Y/n loves to hug at night, only to take the shape of an actual lion not too soon. Puzzled by what was happening, Y/n got on the lion's back and took her to a waterfall that lay within a bushy groove well beyond the luscious flower field. When she gets off the lion's back, she pets its head before hesitantly walking into the body of water, where the waterfall fills a large pond. Y/n becomes perplexed at seeing her opposite reflection in the water as she stands in front of the waterfall. Her reflection showed the same raven hair she had. Yet, her skin was soft and fair, with greenish blue eyes and freckles littered across her face's sinuses, unlike Y/n's mismatched coloured eyes and smooth olive skin.
Then, as if on cue, the sun shone brighter, revealing a mysterious figure standing in the cave's shadows behind the waterfall. When trying to get a better view of the person, Y/n felt like they were compelling her to get closer. However, as she got closer to the mysterious person, the farther they were, making it seem as though it was impossible to get to them. Almost as if it was the definitive embodiment of chasing a shadow. Finally, as Y/n had stopped putting effort into catching up with the person, she found she had been able to get close enough to reach out to them. As she did, they began to fade away just before she could get a glimpse of them.
However, she felt at a loss before Y/n could process what had happened. At the same time, Y/n found herself at the end of the cave with a door embedded into the wall. She felt a sense of familiarity as she took in the door's regal yet indigenous design. Yet, she couldn't place where she may have seen it before. The door had a wonderfully crafted natural walnut-coloured frame, a gold border that laid flush underneath the natural walnut frame and added to the gold frame was black steel moulded into swirled designs. Next, the doors themselves had a beautiful smooth espresso oak wood finish, and on it was a big heart-swirled design at the top made out of the same black steel on the gold border. Finally, the handles were made out of gold with a curve towards the end. With open-minded curiosity, Y/n approached it and gently opened the door. Behind it was a bright passage that resembled something similar to what Tony Stark would design. Then without hesitation, she walked through the door while her lion walked along with her as moral support.
On the other hand, Natasha was in the middle of a debilitating nightmare. During the point of the agonising part of her nightmare, she was abruptly relieved of her pain and entered an ethereal-like dream. It was so abrupt that it took her a bit more time than usual to adjust to the natural bright light of the sun, only to realise that white feathers and flower petals of every colour fell from the sky. As Natasha takes in the beauty of the luscious flower fields, a marbled-coloured pig with a collar appears to greet Natasha with an eager oink. But then, the pig began rooting at Natasha's calf as if telling her to walk in the direction to her right. At first, her reaction was to shoo away the creature. Doing so only encouraged the pig even more. After much-rooted insistence from the pig, Natasha gave in and followed the pig into a forest just after the field of flowers and into a clearing within the forest's heart.
In the clearing, there were boulders; some covered in moss surrounded the edges of the clearing in a particular order. And on those boulders were engraved symbols, except for the one directly in front of Natasha. On that large boulder were a door that was embedded into it and the only one that was heavily covered in moss and a few mushrooms and cosmo flowers. To her discontent, the door had the same design as the ones from her time in the Red Room, making her quite hesitant to approach it to see what was on the other side.
Similarly, Natasha also felt compelled. Only when she was in front of it did the door open itself. There, as she stood in front of the open door, it showed nothing but a bright passage waiting to see what awaited her. At that moment, she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply before going through the door. Yet, because of the amount of blinding light at the end of the passage, she kept her eyes closed only to realise that the blinding light turned out to be the sunlight coming from her window, that she forgot to draw in the blinds last night. However, as Natasha was about to pull in the blinds to get more sleep, she quickly realised she was not alone. On instinct, she reached for her gun to quietly assess if the girl sleeping next to her was hostile. Still, Natasha doubted that the girl was hostile when she saw her hugging a quirky orange bear in her sleep.
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taglist: @adi06lena @mrscromanoff @togrowoldinv @procrastinatingsapphictrash
dm me or drop in an ask if you ever want to be added to this series. Or if y'all just want to talk, my inbox is open. So don't be shy talk to me.
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saintsenara · 7 months
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The Shack at the End of the Lane, hands down! You really bring Merope to life as this complex, dynamic, and sympathetic character 💕
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thank you very much, anon. both for the attention and for mentioning one my own favourite pieces - the shack at the end of the lane.
quite unexpectedly, merope gaunt has been on my mind a lot this year - in which she's also been the subject of four other stories i've written. she's somebody i feel uncomplicatedly sorry for, despite the great crime she commits, and who i thought deserved the chance to be rather more than canon makes her.
partially, this is because her son is my favourite character in the series, and his profound grief over the loss of his mother is the soapbox i've been on top of for a while. but it's also because getting older has meant thinking much more than i did as a child about how the harry potter series portrays motherhood, womanhood, desire, love, death, and redemption.
the canon narrative's treatment of tom riddle sr.'s rape - which, of course, it doesn't acknowledge was rape - has always sat uncomfortably with me (and merope in this story is forced into a reckoning of sorts with it). but something i found really striking on a recent re-read was how annoyed i was by dumbledore's implication in half-blood prince that merope could have stayed alive for her son if she'd wanted to.
if i ever get around to answering the asks on wizarding medicine i have sitting in my inbox, you will learn that i really dislike the idea that wizards are immune to the sort of things that can kill muggles. after all, the entire point of the series is that blood purity doesn't matter and death is a natural part of life, so it seems odd for that to be undermined by the suggestion that wizards and muggles are - essentially - separate species, the one susceptible to death, the other able to resist numerous causes of it because of magic.
and so - in this as in the velveteen rabbit - i am invested in the idea that merope would have loved to stay alive for her son.
but the universe had other ideas.
and maybe that's for the best. after all, merope needed to do some healing and atonement of her own before they could meet again.
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eddiediazes · 2 years
Note
the life size au is constantly on my mind i’d love to hear more about it!!
(also asked about by hannah @honeyeddie mwah mwah i love u hannah)
buh klmasfd oh man, life size au my beloved, thank you for being invested i’m so happy. it was one of the first real ideas i had for this fandom and i think after i get like. a couple of my other big wips done it might be the next thing i work on, and it will be a chaptered fic!!! it's inspired by the basic premise of the dcom in the sense that a doll comes to life and there's a single parent situation etc but. it's also REALLY different from the original movie and brings elements from canon where i can weave them in and largely it is just about. eddie diaz getting everything he wants, magically, but having no clue at all how to accept it askmdf
here's an excerpt i don't think i've ever posted!!
“So you were - sentient, in there?” Eddie asks, more than a little unsettled by the idea.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t-” Buck sighs, and looks over at Chris’ other toys, scattered over the living room table. “I think it was just me, if that makes sense? And it wasn’t really like I could do anything, and I don’t - remember, anything before you and Chris. But at some point I started being able to hear you, and see things, and the more people talked to me, the more I could hear.”
Suddenly, haphazardly, Eddie is reminded of the story of The Velveteen Rabbit, the one he used to read to his sisters when they were all growing up. Real isn’t how you are made, it’s a thing that happens to you. 
Eddie glances back over at Buck, and feels something stick in his throat. “Right. Okay. So - I don’t think there’s any danger of you going back any time soon. In which case - you’ll need some clothes, and a toothbrush - basic things to take care of yourself. And we’ll need to figure out sleeping arrangements.”
“Guess I’m a little big for sharing the bed now, huh?” Buck jokes, grinning, and Eddie tries not to get flustered.
“Just a little, yeah.” Eddie clears his throat, and pushes a hand through his hair, clearing it out of his face.
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shark-myths · 1 year
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tagged by the lovely @setting-in-a-honeymoon !
What is your absolute all-time favorite idea you’ve ever had?
if you didn't know already, my toxic trait is that i love my own writing and you're about to find out firsthand! the ideas that are my favorite tend to be the more magical ones--i love what i did with the boys time can't capture, i love the velveteen rabbit au, i am still obsessed with my coyote ugly/beauty and the beast mashup. on the other hand, making fall out boy into girls might be genuinely the greatest idea i've ever had--deceptively simple, enduringly brilliant!
What is your favorite part of being a writer? Which parts could you take or leave?
my favorite thing is getting to find out wherever my ideas go! i never know what's going to happen or how a story's going to end. it always takes me places that are so much more rich and rewarding and surprising than i expected when i first embarked. i also love being able to evoke the exact right feeling i'm aiming for! i am aphantasic so describing visual things well in writing is a struggle--i can't really check to see if it's effective?--so i tend to focus more on specific vibes and feelings. it is incredibly satisfying to want reading something to feel a certain way and make that happen.
the part i hate the most is that the energy i use to write is the same energy that my specific career uses. work taps me out and i often have nothing left to write with, and that's sad, because i love being creative much more than i love participating in capitalism! one of the great frustrations of my adult life is that my ideas come in slow and faint, and i so rarely have the emotional space to draw them out and grow them into stories. it feels honestly like a waste.
What is your greatest motivation to write/create?
mostly, because i'm excited about some concept and i want to explore it! sometimes there's something i need to heal, or sometimes i'm interested in an idea like loss & salvage (that one led to the recently completed fic, the house on rosewood lane), or a classic fairy tale trope, or something outrageous pete wentz has said that i simply cannot live with. like many of us, i often write out of the desire to fix something, because i think the source material has gotten it wrong or because i personally don't understand the decisions of a story (in college i fixed cinderella by making her a lesbian). other times, i just love a rom com and i want to do it myself, because farce is delightful. i think i am my most alive and motivated as a writer when there's something transformative i get to do! i love fanworks and writing in established universes because there's a given set of constraints and i have to create something interesting within them, without breaking the rules of the universe or the real history, or breaking them very deliberately and with a purpose. it's a specific type of almost conversational fun, a give and take with the established history and tradition and culture of a thing, that i don't often feel when i'm writing fully original works. (my favorite recent published version of this game is katherine addison's sherlock holmes with angels novel, the angel of the crows.)
What do you wish you knew when you first started out writing?
you know, i am incredibly happy with the way i developed from a tiny kiddo writing novels about kittens lost in airports to who i am as a writer today. i have watched myself identify weaknesses in my style and range and worked to grow and improve, and every step in that process is so valuable, i don't think you can skip ahead! i started posting my writing on the internet 20 years ago and i feel really good about that. i've learned so much and been a part of so many communities. writing is so joyful, and i'm glad i never lost that to the pressure turn it profitable. my work is profoundly un-sellable and i feel pride in that.
maybe something i could have learned sooner is that fanfic doesn't have to be embarrassing; fandom is one of my favorite parts about being who i am and has led to some of my coolest experiences and closest friendships.
What is your favorite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!
it is so hard to choose, I have so many favorites for so many different reasons! girl out boy will be my most important work forever and the boys time can't capture is my FOB masterwork, but one that i think is really pretty and well done and more understated is the swantrick fairy tale, i'm a wing i'm a prayer. i revisit it often.
(pour one out for my gay pirate au, also! love that story, long may it live in the wayback machine. hope to write a sequel one day)
What is your favorite out of the box quote?
i'm too vain to choose / too wordy to remember. my favorite moments are when i sound enough like pete that i can't quite tell if i've quoted one of his ljs or invented a line.
Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so and how do you personally feel about their ideals?
hmm, maybe evil joe in don't want to be a footnote? he's wicked just for the fun of it. (i'm not, i swear!) i like to think i usually write complicated characters who have at least one shitty opinion / trait i don't endorse.
If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?
oh, i started writing stories before i knew the alphabet. that's a tiny kid! i think she'd be pretty jazzed in general, though the somewhat older version would be very surprised that she didn't publish a novel while in elementary school, become famous, and show everyone who was mean to her how wrong they were, because that was her real plan for many years. any age version would probably feel weird about the powerpoint, though.
i vague-tag whoever feels like doing this, and specifically @leyley09 !
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glitchafton · 2 years
Conversation
Vanessa: *Vannycostumedesign2.png*
Vanessa: No but seriously, do you have any notes? I'm not buying a scrap of fabric until you tell me it's okay.
William: it's fine
Vanessa: >:(
Vanessa: If you hate it just tell me.
William: I don't hate it, I'm looking at design6 and 7 and I think the eyes might be overkill, and I'd like to see proof that you're not impairing your vision too much, particularly when they light up.
Vanessa: Sure, I'll put you in the Plushtrap and take you with me, but you really don't have a single thought on the design? You? Bullshit.
William: Fine if it matters that much to you, I don't get why you're starting with it looking so beat up.
Vanessa: So my first inspiration point was you in the VR game as Glitchtrap, right.
William: I'd like to point out that the basis for that was the original Spring Bonnie mascot suit that we had to throw together in under a week. The later costumes actually looked good.
Vanessa: Did you not have a choice how you looked in game, because you made a whole murder level, I feel like you could have worn one of the nice ones.
William: It's what I wore during the first round of murders so it had sentimental value. And you're overestimating how much control I had while trapped in there.
Vanessa: Regardless Vanny isn't Glitchtrap, and I wanted to avoid her being Spring Bonnie but girl. And I did try just a plain white rabbit design (see design 10) and I thought there wasn't much going on visually, and then played with maybe go a little Alice in Wonderland since I am going to be having children follow a white rabbit (see 11) but I didn't like how derivative it felt, also I'm not the best at sewing and realized this was aiming too high.
William: When did you have time for all of this?
Vanessa: I take if you've never worked an office job? I usually only have 3 hours worth of shit to do a day, and I could tell you horror stories about internships I did in college when I was actually giving my all every day.
William: Another time, let's not get off track, so you rejected a White Rabbit concept.
Vanessa: Yeah, I looked up some waist coat patterns and I don't have the skills and the material costs were too much (budget.docx, page 3)
William: Should I go into the Plushtrap so you can take me into the office and give the presentation you clearly want to be doing this as?
Vanessa: I just wanted feedback! But shut up and let me me continue.
Vanessa: However, next time you want to get into giving me new instructions and planning, I'm absolutely begging that you do it in the Plushtrap. I'll even get him a little suit.
William: I don't know if that would feel better or worse. But purple suit, white shirt, black tie. But focus.
Vanessa: If you didn't keep making side comments we'd be done by now!
Vanessa: Anyway, like I said plain white body suit didn't have enough visual interest and needed something to break up the lines, white rabbit not enough time or money.
William: Plus that would be costume pieces on top of the base so you could always go back to it if you'd want.
Vanessa: I could, I could also make seasonal costumes. I should make seasonal costumes.
William: I'm going to be upset if you don't now.
Vanessa: Noted!
Vanessa: BUT ANYWAY! As I was saying I thought of what could make Vanny a bit more unique looking and first I added some brown spots but it still felt a bit too generic like I could be any old rabbit, I thought about old timey stuffed animals that have been through it, and gotten repaired time and time again because a kid refused to let them go. They're a bit dirty and nasty looking, but in a sweet way.
William: Have you ever read the Velveteen Rabbit?
Vanessa: Nope.
William: Never mind, go on.
Vanessa: So that's how I ended up here, also why I decided to go with plastic looking eyes, also if I slip up and don't change the security footage, even my eyes are hidden.
Vanessa: So what do you think?
William: As I said, it's cute. I think it's actually fine.
Vanessa: Are you fucking kidding me?
William: No. I'm not sure when you got the impression I'm the type to hold back criticism when asked for feedback, but I meant what I said.
Vanessa: I'm going to fucking kill you.
William: It's a bit late for that, love.
William: Fine, the only changes I would propose would be maybe change the shoes to more of a paw, none of the design images I'm seeing mention this so you should add a wire frame to the ears so they can be both poseable and just more durable if you need to climb through vents or anything.
William: With the concept as you explained it, if this was a character for the public I'd go so far as to suggest going full floppy lop bunny ears, but having something hanging would make it easier for a kid to grab.
William: Additionally, toe beans.
Vanessa: Rabbits don't have toe beans.
William: I'm well aware of that. However, it's cute, and with the paw foot they can be used to add non-stick grips without having to have a full flat bottom.
Vanessa: Thank you. That's all I wanted. I'll make another sketch with your changes, and get to work on it. But you're still going to have to wait for the next sale on fabric.
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poppyseed799 · 25 days
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I feel like I took away a completely different interpretation of the velveteen rabbit than everyone else. It’s supposed to be about love or something but to me it was always about sacrifice. And I suppose that IS kind of the message too, because love and sacrifice were pretty closely related in that story. But like. In my mind I use “it’s like the velveteen rabbit” to mean “holding onto something you love during hard times despite the fact that you’ll have to get rid of it once those times have passed due to it becoming tainted by you relying on it during those hard times, but not being able to spare it because you need it to be able to get through the hard times in one piece”. Like bro tell me why the part about the kid having to get rid of the rabbit resonated with me more than anything about the rabbit. I literally had to look up what the story was about just now because the only part that stuck with me since I read it as a kid was the part where the kid was sick. WAIT THERE WAS A FAIRY?? Bro I really don’t remember this I fixated on the human perspective. Anyways the reason I bring this all up is because I was going to say that my electronics are like the velveteen rabbit. Cuz there’s probably roaches living in them and I’ll have to replace them when we move out to prevent another roach infestation but I can’t just stop using the electronics to save them cuz how else am I gonna cope with the extreme amount of roaches in this house. There is surely a more accurate and less confusing analogy I could be making for this specific situation.
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jerzwriter · 2 months
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🍉 If you could have a superpower, what would it be?
🍒 What was the first book you remember reading?
🌶 What do you think about the "every book needs romance" opinion?
🥐 How do you mark where you've stopped reading? A bookmark? Remembering the chapter? Using the book cover's bookmark? Or other?
Thanks for the asks, Ren! From this list.
🍉 If you could have a superpower, what would it be?
Hmmm. It used to be the power to read people's minds... but social media has ended that for me. lol Maybe mind control? That I would strictly use on some of our world leaders who could really use it! lol I think I'd still like invisibility, too. Not for snooping but for safety purposes. What can I say? I live in America.
🍒 What was the first book you remember reading?
OK, there are two that I remember... Lyle, Lyle Crocodile & The Velveteen Rabbit. I still love both of them, and the Velveteen Rabbit still makes me cry like a bitch. lol
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🌶 What do you think about the "every book needs romance" opinion?
You know I love a good romance, but, no, I do not believe that every story needs one. In fact, in some stories, they feel so out of place it's cringe.
🥐 How do you mark where you've stopped reading? A bookmark? Remembering the chapter? Using the book cover's bookmark? Or other?
If it's a physical book, which is my preference, I use a good old-fashioned bookmark. The only thing I tend to read online anymore is fanfic, and I usually finish, but if I can't, I take a screenshot so I know where I should return to.
Thanks so much for asking, Ren! 😉
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I've had this really old blanket my entire life, like entire life, It is as old as me, if not a little older. I think it was made in like September 2005 when I was born November. It was a baby shower present to my mom, funnily she had gotten two of them, choosing to return one, which later ended up being a choice she told me she regrets because of one little thing... I love that blanket, like it's my only comfort item that if something happened to I'd be horrifyingly distraught. I've joked about if me my sibling and my blanket were in a fire id go for the blanket first then my sibling, (in my defense my sibling can absolutely get out of a house an inanimate object cant and im not saying id abandon them, just that ill find it first then if theyre still there drag them with) ANYWAYS the point is the velveteen rabbit traumatized me as a child because it was one of those books my grandparents read, and actively were like, "see its just like u w ur blanket"... like we didnt all both see the ending of that book. Like yeah the rabbit became real which good for the rabbit, but my blanket isnt a damn rabbit, its a blanket what the fuck is that gonna be if i get sick and suddenly my blanket needs to be burned.
another thing about this blanket I got super paranoid about fires and stuff in my sophomore and start of this year about something happening while i was gone, so to avoid the trouble entirely I just... took it to school with me? lol. Got a bag for it and everything, which, Im 17 I think id die if anyone noticed but the idea of leaving it home was horrifying durring that time. I think it was like a compulsion for a while because it was if i left anywhere durring that time, the mall, the store, school. which for the fucking record my dad didn't notice till like i was almost relaxed and jfc. thats what mostly snapped me from it was my dad asking if i was bringing it with because i didnt want to admit that
I dont know why i wanted to mention this
I keep seeing the velveteen rabbit quote w old plushies and ok i know its not a plushie but this blanket is the most important thing in my life so uhhh
Truthfully I took this thing everywhere when I was like 5, which honestly isn't that bad considering it didn't look like a rag unlike now where it's tattered and stuff
My parents keep telling me to put it in a seal thing to keep it safe but I can't sleep without it.
My mom bought the exact same blanket but not opened and one the difference between them is immense, two it's not the same so I still end up sleeping with the old one... And the new one 😭
It's not like this is my only attachment but I can live if something happens to the other things I'm not that bad of a hoarder 😭 but that blanket in particular is like the one thing I need to live and I'm not over reacting I've thought about what if something happened to it I'd probably kill myself? Um not the most pleasant thing to say but it's kinda true
Things like Dr stone horrify me for the dumb reason of "what about blankie" same w Isekai and reincarnation although that also has the problem of my parents and family who for all their problems I do love and the idea of them dying or being away from me also horrifies me to no end
Same with pets...
I might need a therapist but that's besides the point
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Nothing in the Parenting Books Prepared Me For This
53. The Babysitters Part I
Synopsis: When Mobius and Thor need to work on the weekend, Kate and Yelena are called in to babysit for Loki and Sylvie.
Word count: 3,448
Stand Alone?: 1/2
Warnings: diapers/wetting/accidents, swearing,
Notes: I had to reread and face my childhood trauma, The Velveteen Rabbit for this chapter.
Read it on AO3!
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Mobius had his reasons, loving reasons, for often having to leave his littles at daycare or with babysitters. Less than usual lately, as Sylvie was still not wanting to regress all that often or all that deep. But as Mobius worked two and a half jobs on one’s salary, he often relied on the kindness of others or his Lokis’ own abilities to be big to cover him. And today, it seemed like he could not rely on their abilities.
“Of course we’ll do it!” Kate’s voice piped through the phone. 
A smile of relief poked through Mobius’ voice “Oh thank gods, okay. Great. Well…”  He took approximately ten minutes to give her, and Yelena who was listening next to her, a rundown of little care basics, training that felt excessive, but really only covered the main bases. 
Loki and Sylvie weren’t quite big kids today, probably both around three; walking, chatting, but still sucking thumbs and wearing training pants. Well, Sylvie got training pants. Loki had tried, but it didn’t exactly work out when he neglected to tell Mobius he had to go potty and then had a little bit of an accident. They didn’t leak after the first time, but once Loki became distracted by helping with breakfast or watching Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, one had turned into three, and he soon found his pajama bottoms drenched. 
The tots were bathed, dressed, and ready for the day by the time Kate showed up with Yelena in her passenger seat of her shiny, new Volkswagen Beetle. Neither Clint nor Yelena had appreciated her insistence on giving it a purple paint job, but now it made the car “a staple of her brand” as she liked to call it. 
Loki and Sylvie both greeted them with shy waves as they tried to hide behind their daddy despite being very good friends with the two. There was just something about being left with them that they didn’t trust, but Mobius was confident and felt like he had given them more than enough instructions on how to care for the littles, even giving them their own printed copies of the “Loki and Sylvie Care Booklet”. 
They performed their usual routine of not wanting to be left alone until Yelena forcefully pulled them away. “Shit,” she swore, setting the two back down. “You are both very heavy little ones!” she observed. “Clint is very light. How does Mobius pick you up all the time? He’s an old man!” she continued until Kate punched her lightly in the arm. 
“Do you think I can have a tour?” Kate asked the toddlers, changing the subject and letting Loki take her hand to lead her through the cabin home. Sylvie took Yelenas, and together, the two toddlers showed her all the cool toys they had, and made sure to point out Thor’s hut which they had helped build. Most of their explanations of things were mumbled or entirely nonsensical, but they tried, and most of it was words.
“You have a very nice home,” Kate complimented the both of them. 
Loki smiled back proudly.
“Um,” Loki began. “Read?” he cautiously requested. 
 “How about I do you one better?” 
Loki knew that phrase immediately, daddy used that phrase, he got excited for the surprise that was awaiting him. 
“We’ll pack up a diaper bag, right? And then we can go to the library and grab some lunch while we’re out. What do you think about that?” 
It was pretty apparent with the nature that Kate spoke with that she had practiced this all morning and thought it out deeply. 
The little gave a wide grin and wiggled, tapping his feet on the floor like he just couldn’t wait. Instead of any comprehensible words, he squealed with joy and nearly hugged her. 
Meanwhile, Sylvie was trying her best to make herself a spot where Yelena could easily see her, and hopefully be very impressed by her game of Little People zoo, enough to want to play, as well. 
And although she wasn’t really all that interested, Yelena did eventually join in and was happy to help the little girl out with all the animal noises.
On one of the pages of the guide book, which Loki was glad to point out to Kate, was instruction of how to pack a diaper bag, which he did genuinely help with, not dropping in silly toys or taking things out, but instead, actually finding her the pieces she needed, and blossoming with a smile every time she said “thank you” or gave him a compliment. 
“Alright,” Kate looked up at him, pretending to be out of breath after all that hard work, wiping an invisible bead of sweat from her brow, “I think we’re all done.” 
Loki mimicked her gesture with a grin. 
“Let’s go get your big sis.” 
Loki nodded, waddling over to where Sylvie and Yelena were currently trying to catch the escaped endangered unicorn (played by Sylvie) and put it back in its pen. 
“Kay! Look! Unicon!” Sylvie showed Kate the toy unicorn.
“Aw, that’s very sweet. Can we clean up though? Just a little so we can take you and Loki to the library?” 
“Um…” Sylvie looked down at her animals and bit her lip as she thought about it. She set down her toy hesitantly. “Okay.” 
“Uh, anything you guys need to do before we go? Do you need to go potty?”
Loki looked down at his overalls and hopped up onto the changing table without prompting. 
Sylvie also nodded but she was headed towards the bathroom, instead. 
“I will go with her,” Yelena commented. 
“Aren’t you supposed to be the adult here? You help me change the baby.”
Yelena bit the inside of her cheek and crossed her arms. “You have a guide and you’re good with the littles, you do it!” She pronounced “littles” as “leetles” when saying it so quickly, making Sylvie giggle. 
But Loki furrowed his brow. “Not a baby!” he whined as the other two worked out their struggle and Kate set her hand on his thigh soothingly. 
As Yelena exited the room with Sylvie, Kate turned back to Loki, she tried her best not to mirror his anxious expression as she stepped onto the stool Sylvie sometimes had to use when changing Loki so she could reach over him. She consulted her guide every now and again as she changed him, trying to be unflinching and careful. But she purposefully looked away when she could, and subconsciously held her breath until Loki was recovered. 
“There we go,” she smiled, admiring her handiwork as she snapped his overalls back up. 
Loki then proceeded to try and hop into her arms, forgetting that she was not strong enough to pick him up like every other adult he dealt with in day-to-day life, save for his daycare teacher Ms.Vaughn. 
“Oh- no- buddy,” Kate laughed as she found herself nearly knocked to the floor. 
Loki snapped out of his headspace. “Did I hurt you?” he asked. 
Kate nearly laughed. “No, you didn’t. Now get back into your headspace or I can’t take you and Sylvie to the library,” she joked. 
They found Yelena setting the carseats into the back seat, if you could even call it that. The seats hardly fit in the tiny car alone, so Loki stretched the vehicle a little bit so he and Sylvie could comfortably ride with a decent amount of legroom and not need to crawl over the front seats to get in and out. It hardly looked like a Beetle at that point, but after insisting that it would return to its original shape and that the spell was temporary, Kate let Loki keep the modifications.  
The first quarter of the car ride was very quiet as Loki and Sylvie kept being a little bit shy, but Kate began to fiddle with the radio as they got out of the woods and into a place where there was actual phone reception for her Bluetooth. It wasn’t like daddy’s car, both Loki and Sylvie observed as they watched the space between the two front seats, staring with wide eyes at the center console where all the buttons that play music should’ve been. Instead, there was a screen with words on it, like a big phone that Kate was playing with.
“What do you guys want to listen to?” she asked, looking back at them. 
Loki and Sylvie looked back at one another, what did they want to listen to? It wasn’t a question they were normally asked, Mobius usually just had a cd of hits from the latter half of the 1900’s, and if not that, there was the staticky talk radio that was usually reserved for early morning commutes and days when the weather was rather active with snow or rain. 
“How about… do you guys like classical music?”
“Classical?” Yelena asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. 
“Yeah, isn’t that what babies are supposed to listen to?” 
Yelena shrugged. 
“Not a baby!” Sylvie protested. 
“Um!” Loki interrupted. “Bus?” he asked. 
“....I’m not sure if we get that station,” Kate hesitated, not quite sure what he meant. 
“Oh!” Sylvie understood. “skiddink!” she requested, clapping and wiggling into her seat. 
Kate looked to Yelena with wide, slightly panicked eyes. 
“What do you want me to do? I’m driving. You figure it out,” Yelena said in a voice hardly louder than the whisper. 
Kate turned back to the two littles who were both distractedly staring out the side windows with their fingers in their mouths and clutching onto some nearby toys. 
“I’m not familiar with those songs, do you guys have anything else?”  
“Um! Know happy!” Loki added, punctuated with two little claps.
Kate had a sudden epiphany as she realized they were suggesting the nursery rhymes they had heard at daycare. Sometimes Clint would come home humming them, but hardly did he care to listen to the songs afterward.
Kate turned on a playlist from her phone and let Raffi and Wiggles run, only barely putting up with the low quality versions with obnoxious littles and children’s choirs or digitally recorded marimba, simply because Loki and Sylvie singing along or doing the motions was so dang cute. 
She eventually caved watching how much fun they were having and sang along with them, causing Yelena to bite her tongue to keep herself from cracking a smile. 
“Down by the bay, where the-” she started, looking back at them as the next song began, but Loki and Sylvie did not make any motion to shout out the lyrics like before. “You guys don't know this one?” 
Both of the littles shook their heads. 
Kate reached for her phone to skip the song, but Sylvie leaned forward and tried to take it away from her. “You want to listen?” 
Sylvie nodded and Loki seemed to agree, as he bounced in his seat. 
“Alright,” Kate smiled, setting her phone back down and leaning back to let the nostalgic tune play. 
Quickly, they were back to loud and silly singing and Yelena finally broke, not being able to hold in as Skidamarink-a-dink-a-dink came on and everyone else in the car tried to do the motions, with Kate’s eyes burrowing into her soul in a blank stare. She couldn’t help it, it made her laugh, a big booming hearty one like Thor’s, causing both of the littles to grin at each other. 
The library was eerily silent for a Saturday morning. There were no events, no knitting circles, no excited littles waiting for a puppet show, just quiet students and seniors silently pouring over their texts. 
Loki practically ran to the kids section, dragging Sylvie and the babysitters behind him. 
“Should we read a story?” Kate asked Loki as he seemed dead set on finding something in the picture book section, squatting by the shelves. 
Loki responded by sticking his thumb in his mouth and sitting down to stare at the selection of stories. Not verbally answering or acknowledging her. 
“Loki! Loki!” Sylvie called. 
“Shh, libary voice!” Loki reminded her in a stage whisper before Kate or Yelena had the opportunity to. 
The little girl toddled up to him, holding out a picture book edition of “The Velveteen Rabbit” with Yelena not far behind her, protectively watching over her to make sure she didn’t trip. 
Loki looked back at her as she plopped down next to him. 
“Look! Bunny!” she grinned. 
He took the book out of her hands to inspect it, and then handed it up to Kate when he decided it would suffice. 
“Where should we read?” Kate asked them as both of the toddlers pushed themselves back up to stand and looked for a spot. “How bout the carpet?” she pointed to a starry blue carpet with a cow jumping over the moon right in the middle of the library floor. 
“No,” Sylvie nonchalantly declied. 
“Okay…” Kate thought about it for a moment. “How about by the board books? Those chairs look comfortable, don’t you think?” she tried again. 
Both of the littles clapped their hands and found spots in the two bean bag chairs there.
Yelena picked Sylvie up and set her on her lap so she could also have a seat in a chair and not on the floor. “Book please?” she asked. 
Kate, sitting in a plastic, preschool-sized, school chair, handed it over, a little bit surprised at how willing Yelena was to take the lead.
Yelena opened the first page and began to read.
She paused a few pages in. “Bag please,” she requested. 
Kate kicked it over to her and let her lean awkwardly to fish out two pacifiers and pop them into Loki and Sylvie’s mouth as they were starting to suck their thumbs and grow a little bit whiny.
Over the course of a few more pages, Loki and Sylvie’s breathing started to speed up and their faces reddened as they listened to the wise skin-horse speak about how becoming real can hurt. “most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand." Yelena had narrated with a solemn voice.  
Kate looked up from her phone at them. 
“Oh! Oh,” she panicked. “Loki c’mere.” She reached toward the beanbag to take the little boy, forgetting he was near 500 pounds, but it didn’t matter and she pretended her thighs weren’t getting crushed as she pet Loki’s back and let the toddler burrow into her shoulder. 
Sylvie refused any extra comfort, even though she was nearly as teary as Loki, only slightly more in control of her emotions. Her eyes were glassy and ready to run with tears as she turned towards Kate for reassurance. 
“It’s alright, it has a happy ending,” Kate told them both. “Let’s keep listening.” 
Yelena kept reading, occasionally needing to repeat words, and speaking semi-robotically through most of it, but not an ounce of emotion or meaning to the story was lost as the two littles rubbed their eyes and tried not to sob or accidentally make shuddering breaths so they could hear her. 
“See? It all turned out okay. The bunny lived!” Kate said, sitting Loki up in her lap and watching to see how Sylvie reacted. 
But the two seemed even more distraught than before. 
“B- but the horsey!” Loki choked out. 
Sylvie nodded. 
“You didn’t hear what he said about that? He said they all become real.” But Kate knew those lines at the beginning were metaphorical. The fairy towards the end had debunked that, and she frowned at thinking that the other toys probably did burn. She hadn’t thought about it like that before. 
This was not lost on the littles, and Loki continued to sob as quietly as she could. 
Kate pressed her mouth into a thin line. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to the both of them. “We should’ve chosen a different book, huh?” 
Loki nodded into her shoulder and Sylvie was still trying her best to hide her tear stains, mimicking Kate’s expression. 
“Let’s find another book. I’ll read this time.” 
Loki reluctantly stood up and shuffled through the picture books, looking for a familiar one which he knew the ending of. He picked out The Little Prince and hesitantly handed it to Kate as if she’d corrupt it and it would suddenly turn into a heart wrenching tragedy of a story, but she smiled at him gently, silently giving him an ounce of empathetic understanding as she opened the storybook and the toddlers sat down once more, trying to burrow their anxiety and unease with the previous story by fidgeting and squirming as they listened to the familiar tale. 
Kate closed the book when she was done and checked on them. It was obvious that neither of them were entirely recovered, but they politely smiled up at her anyway. 
“Little ones,” Yelena spoke up from behind them as Kate set the book aside and opened her mouth to speak. Both toddlers turned to her. “I’m so bored, can you read me a story?” she asked. 
Loki’s smile genuinely broadened just a little bit, but Sylvie shook her head and edged backwards, reclining back into Yelena’s torso, making herself smaller. 
Loki got up and selected his story; a small book, yet one a bit more complex than Kate had been expecting. 
“You sure you’re up for more bunny rabbits?” she asked as Loki sat down and opened up the first page of “I Am A Bunny”. 
Loki nodded vehemently and then shushed her as he began to read. 
Fluently and with immense rhythm, he spoke, as if the sobs in his voice had dried and as if he was hardly even little, but just regular Loki reading a story to little Sylvie. 
But the second he was done, all bets were off as Loki set the story down and grinned at the three girls near him in that silly, toothy, way he’d never be caught dead doing when big. He didn’t acknowledge this sudden shift as he plopped back down onto the floor and immediately began looking for the communal toys bin he knew was kept nearby. 
“Hey, this is a library. I don’t think your daddy would be too happy if I let you crawl on the icky floor,” Kate suggested.
Loki paused and turned onto his bum before crossing his arms and making sure to give her a defiant look. 
“Just walk. You don’t always have to be such a baby,” Sylvie hissed at him. 
She waited for a moment to see how he’d respond, and when he didn’t, she picked him up herself and thrust him into Yelena’s arms. “You take him.” 
“Sylvie, can we use the magic word?” Kate asked. 
“Please?” 
As Kate was feeling very responsible and like a good babysitter, Yelena took the little girl’s hand in the free one which she wasn’t using to support Loki. 
She whispered something to Sylvie while Loki gnawed on the back of his own hand. “That made you sound very grown-up, you know that? A very good big sister.” 
The comment made Sylvie beam with pride as she marched forward looking for any library activities or toys to mess with. 
They eventually found the bin and wooden box that elicited countless- well, countable for Yelena and Kate- seconds of enjoyment from the tots until they gave up and decided the games and toys they had at home were better. 
The adults seemed to agree. 
“Hey, hey wait, before we leave. Do you guys want to check out a few things? Look. Your daddy gave me your library cards,” Kate whispered to them both, making sure to flash the plastic cards as if they were something more scandalous. 
The two littles almost squealed as they ran off to find their stories of choice, taking the hands of their babysitters and leading them through all the sections to show them all the interesting things they picked out; the long classical novels, the illustrated and photographed collections of flowers and rocks, the young adult novels, and the picture books for little time, things they wanted their daddy to read to them before bedtime. twelve stories in total were rang up and put on the littles’ library cards. Eight for Loki, Four for Sylvie.
They made sure to tell Yelena and Kate about their choices at full volume while on the way back to the car, and of course all the way to Kate’s restaurant of choice for lunch.
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lambicpentametre · 2 years
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bunny
“There once was a Velveteen Rabbit, and in the beginning, he was really splendid,” Alina read. Rosalind snuggled into her side, curling her arm around her own threadbare bunny. 
 “No, Mommy! We were farther than that! Look, there’s the bookmark, it’s there!” Rosalind jostled the pages until the piece of paper with Rosalind’s first attempts at cursive slides halfway out. 
“Oh, of course, baby,” Alina says, pulling Rosalind closer to her side. 
“‘Real isn’t how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It’s just a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.’”
Alina nearly finished the book before Rosalind finally fell asleep. She kissed her softly on the forehead and tucked her into her bed, leaving The Velveteen Rabbit on the nightstand. 
She had already brewed a cup of tea when the customary knock came at the door. 
“Late night?” Aleksander asked. Alina smiled and pressed herself against the doorframe. 
“Something like that. I couldn’t get Rosalind to sleep without a bedtime story, but then she insisted I nearly finish it. I swear she’s allergic to sleep.”
“You’re doing your best, Alina,” Aleksander said. He offered her a box of baked goods, like he always did on Tuesdays.
“Am I though?”
“You are.” Aleksander sat down in his regular spot on the couch. “I’ve watched you raise Rosalind since you moved her, through everything, and you’ve done a spectacular job. Rosalind is a wonderful girl. And she loves her mother.”
“I’m not—“
“You are, Alina. You are more than enough for her.”
Alina let silence fall between them. Aleksander rested his head against the back of the couch, looking at her intently. 
She couldn’t get the Velveteen Rabbit out of her mind, could practically see the words swirling around in his dark eyes. 
You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.
She could ask him. Say the words out loud, let them fall where they would. She wasn’t one to back down from a fight, to need someone to protect her. But around Aleksander, she was scared. She didn’t want to lose him, even if it meant only keeping him in her life as the kind neighbor who let Rosalind walk his dog on the weekends and picked her up when Alina had to work late. 
“I’m not ready,” she said. “I don’t know how to—“
“That’s okay,” he replied. “I have all the time in the world.”
“But how can you— Why do you—“
I’m a mess. I’m thirty years old with a divorce, a six year old baby, a mortgage that I’m drowning in, a job that I hate. The only light in my life is my daughter, and the stolen moments we have on the nights you come to visit me with your baked goods and fancy tea. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, and I’m scared I’ll taint yours too.
“Rosalind told me you were reading The Velveteen Rabbit this week,” he said. Aleksander slid closer to her on the couch, until their legs were pressed together. He wrapped his hands around hers, rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. 
“Look at me, please, Alina?” he asked softly. She looked up at him. His eyes were warm, like a mug of coffee early in the morning. 
“You have always been real to me, Alina. You could never be ugly or broken or droopy, or a failure in any way. I have loved you every day since I met you, and even more since I’ve gotten to know you and watched you with Rosalind. You are perfect as you are, Alina. I’ll never tire of saying it. I love you.”
She laughed through her tears. “Oh, you sappy man,” she sighed. “Just the last bit would’ve been good enough.” 
He stayed the night. In the morning, Aleksander made pancakes for breakfast, with chocolate chips for Rosalind. And they were Real.
prompt from darklinaprompts on twitter
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cherry-gemz · 3 years
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Open Book: Part I
Summary: As the Assistant Librarian for a small town in Florida, you find yourself intrigued with an extraordinary little girl and her charming uncle. As each day goes by, you teach the girl about adventure and mystery with your love of books. Little do you know what's in store for you next.
Pairings: Y/N and Frank Adler
Rating: PG, all fluff
Word count: IDK, failed at the assignment 2k+ lol. So I split the fic.
Challenge Prompt: Write a story about someone trying to find the perfect birthday gift.
A/N: Happiest of birthdays dear @a-little-counter-esperanto. You are the bees knees and really a true gem! I'm so happy we've become friends - we have so many things in common it's cray. I'm wishing you all the love and happiness, sunshine! May you continue to have a fantastic birthday sleepover and enjoy being loved by all! Hope you enjoy the fic xx - Cherry
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"Did you get the flowers?" Mary asked as she sat on the couch flipping through the tv.
Frank patted his chest and then his jeans in search of his keys.
"What?"
Mary kept changing the channels without a beat,"Frank. You're supposed to buy a girl flowers on the date."
Frank furrowed his brow, "Uh...no. Have you seen my keys? Really?"
Mary rolled her eyes, "She's not gonna kiss you goodnight."
He searched on the kitchen table and rummaged through old mail when a knock at the door interrupted his concentration. As he bee-lined to the door, Mary turned off the tv and hopped off the couch to grab her latest book she'd chiseled her way through for the week.
Frank swung the door open abruptly and started you as you stood at their doorstep.
"Hey! You made it, great!" Frank exclaimed. "Sorry, my head's a mess."
Mary now situated herself at the kitchen table and shouted over her shoulder, "It's because he hasn't been on a real date in over six months."
Frank turned red," What? No...I mean yes, but jeez, Mary. Remember we talked about how to read a room?"
He turned back to you, "Come in, come in. I'm just trying to find my keys."
You chuckled and nodded to the doorknob which held his set of keys and he smacked his forehead.
As you walked into the house, you noticed little knickknacks here and there on shelves. And books. Mountains of books everywhere. Piling on top of each other.
"Hi Mary," you smiled as she kept her back to you, nose deep in her book.
"Mary…" Frank scolded as he put his hands on his hips.
"Hi, Ms. Y/N."
You smiled as you approached her, "May I sit?"
She nodded in agreement and you pulled out a chair.
"I brought you something…" you say as you rummage through your canvas bag for your book on crabs. "Well, actually I was hoping you could help me...see…"
Frank smiled as he saw the two of you bonding. He caught himself admiring you more than he'd like to admit as he needed to head off to his date soon. He appreciated your assistance with babysitting Mary as the two of you first met at the local library. His date, Justine, was a waitress at the bar he would visit from time to time. While there was a chemistry between them, it was really just through vanity. With you, he had come to know you at a deeper level: the way you’d squint or furrow your brow when reviewing your clipboard. Or how adorable you’d look chewing on the cap of your pen when trying to finalize an email at your desk. He saw that you loved the color yellow, considering how many skirts and cardigans you’d paired together. And that you were a romantic at heart - the classics were your fave to read and how’d you get lost in historical facts when he had first asked you what your hobbies were. Seeing how a beautiful person you were, inside and out, he now regretted asking Justine out with you on his mind.
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Mary's eyes scanned the books of quantum physics and mathematics. At first you thought perhaps she had another book instead, but as you watched her day in and day out, you were astounded at the tiny prodigy and her ability to ascertain such knowledge at her age. You'd correct the cataloging errors for the day and find her reading for enjoyment it seemed.
Then one day Frank arrived. Mary had always left on her own, but as if it were any old regular day, the handsome uncle came to retrieve his stellar niece. He had a warmness to him. His dark brown hair and beard complemented his face, one that was obvious in an overall attractiveness. And he was kind, he showed that by adopting his niece after her mother had passed away and truly nurturing her gifted talent. You learned he fixed boats for a living and lived not too far from the library. You smiled at the odd pair together, they somehow seemed to work however.
As you checked their books out, Mary tiptoed over the large walnut desk and glanced at you.
"You're pretty," she stated.
"Mary. What did we say?" Frank tsked, embarrassed, but didn't disagree with her observation.
"What? Frank, you told me that I need to state facts, rather than assumptions. And I am stating a fact that Ms. Y/LN is pretty. Do you think she's pretty, Frank?"
Frank coughed into his fist and blushed, you smirked, half wanting to know his answer, half laughing inside of how Mary was so blunt.
"Yes, Ms. Y/LN is very pretty," he replied and gazed at your eyes. He licked his lips and you had to turn away feeling flushed. You closed the last book and placed it in Mary's backpack.
"All set," you replied. "These are due on the 23rd."
Frank zipped up the backpack and slung it over his broad shoulder. "Thanks, we'll see you tomorrow."
"Oh?" You replied as Mary looked at you both attempting to assess the flirtation occuring before her eyes.
"Well, yeah, she loves it here, I mean. And we have a few other books to return."
"Yes, we'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mary."
"Bye," Mary replied and skipped off.
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Frank showed up every day after that. You found it endearing, but not wanting to read into something that wasn't there, you focused your attention on Mary. That only seemed to peak his interest further. While he had a knack for attracting women, his heart was never in it for the long haul since the minute they found out about Mary, they'd either run away from the possible responsibility, or Mary would run them off herself. But with you it was different. You were genuine and kind to Mary. Knowing quite well of her mathematical abilities, you would challenge her in other areas: art, zoology, history. You found that while she could read more college level books than any person you met in the small town, she still was a child wanting to learn about all other aspects of life. You'd sit together at a table: you, reviewing inventory spreadsheets for the latest book fair and her, immersed in some book that would put you to sleep at night.
"Frank, you should ask Ms. Y/LN out," Mary stated one day as the three of you sat at a table together. Frank practically choked and you shook your head, secretly wanting to say yes.
"Aw, Mary. Well, I bet Ms. Y/LN has guys lined up at her door every night."
"No, she doesn't," Mary replied as she turned a page of her book. Frank laughed and placed his hand on Mary's shoulder, pretending to shake her.
"Well, actually Ms. Y/LN…" he said as your heart skipped a beat.
"Y/N," you interrupted. "You can call me Y/N. I feel we're on a first name basis now considering you're here everyday."
“Y/N,” he smiled. His hair was more combed today. You had noticed that he seemed to be disheveled when you first met him, however either Mary’s tactics were rubbing off on him, or it was your pure imagination.
“Yes?” you piped. You haven't been regularly dating lately. There just weren’t many prospects these days. Not ones that could keep up with conversation, let alone intellect. So instead, you found yourself immersed with your favorite fictional characters in the sea of books you’d grown to know and love.
His brow furrowed, he seemed nervous and he picked at the edge of a book as he attempted to gather his thoughts.
“Do you have a favorite book?” Mary interrupted as Frank turned to her, but seemingly glad she saved him from embarrassment.
“Do I have a favorite book? Hmmm...” you thought and a childish smile appeared on your face. “I have many favorite books, Mary...The Velveteen Rabbit, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe…”
“Yeah, but what’s like your most favorite book?”
You extended your hand out to her and she willingly accepted. Frank perked up his interest as he watched the two of you scamper off into the fiction area. Curious, he stood up and decided to follow. The two of you giggled quietly as you made your way around the columns, your free hand lightly ghosting over the spines of the books. The subtle scent of paper and dust permeated Frank’s sense of smell. He was more of an outdoorsy person nowadays as he had left behind his scholarly days teaching in Boston. It’s where Mary learned most from, his appetite to keep learning, vernacular, and wit . You slowed down and perused a row until you found your favorite book.
“Aha!” you exclaim and hid the book behind your back as Mary jumped up and down with excitement. “Now, I’m not sure if this is something you’d be interested in, it’s more for ten year olds in my opinion. However, I know you’re a very mature young lady and I find that you’d quite enjoy the story if you give it a chance.”
Frank smiled, perplexed as to what book could possibly be your favorite. You pulled the book from behind and showed Mary.
“Little Women,” she stated. “By Louisa May Alcott.”
“Yes. It’s a beautiful story, really. About sisters and the trials they endure during the American Civil War. There’s friendship, love, and growth.”
Mary bunched her nose, you could tell she was on the fence about whether she’d enjoy a story about fictional sisters and yucky love stuff. You started to pull it away, however she grabbed it from your hands. You laughed and looked at Frank who leaned onto the columns and folded his arms.
“Seems someone is wanting to expand their horizons,” he chuckled.
“So it seems,” you smiled back as Mary skipped off to return to the table leaving the two of you behind.
“I’m more of a Lord of the Rings man myself.”
“Really?” you responded playfully. “The Hobbit included, right?”
“Of course,” he scoffed. “I think I actually just read that one to be honest, I just wanted to impress you. I spent my time reading Calvin and Hobbes more, probably how Mary learned my sarcasm.”
You laugh and touch his forearm as a reflex, but quickly realize and pull away. The spark that you felt when you connected was undeniable. You felt butterflies with him standing next to you and you hoped he hadn’t noticed your inability to remain calm.
“Y/N…” he started to say nervously. “Would it be alright if I called ya? Maybe we can get together sometime?”
“Oh, umm,” you replied, caught off guard. While you definitely had caught feelings for the handsome man, you never would have thought it’d be reciprocated. You stuttered, trying to gather your response.
Your hesitation threw him off, and he quickly replied, “I mean...like to sit for Mary or whatever. She really likes you.”
“Of course...yes,” you reply defeated in hopes that he would have asked you out. Instead of asking why he didn’t, you started to walk back to Mary. Frank scrunched his face in frustration in knowing he missed his shot with you and blurted out the most platonic question instead. He realized as well and quickly shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and followed your lead.
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Frank watched as you comfortably plopped yourself next to Mary on the couch, dreading that he had to meet up with Justine. He’d much rather relax on the couch with you and the rugrat, enjoying some silly kids movie together.
You peered over the couch, “Is it okay if she has popcorn?”
“What? Yes,” Mary said flatly and jumped off the couch to the kitchen.
“Okay, miss. But not too much sugar. Bedtime is still at 9,” Frank replied as you shrugged your shoulders.
“It’s the weekend, Frank,” Mary called out from the kitchen.
“Yes, but-“
“Will you be late?” you asked.
He looked at you in surprise, “Um, no. Probably before ten?”
“Okay, have fun.”
“It’s Y/N’s birthday,” Mary replied, carrying two coke bottles and a bag of jelly beans.
You shook your head in regret of ever telling the child when your birthday was. She was so inquisitive that day, asking about all your favorites: food, animals, books, and now birthday.
“It’s your birthday?!” Frank asked.
“Yeah, no big deal.”
“How old are you?” Mary asked as she set the drinks on the coffee table and then remembered how Frank would scold her about leaving water rings. She grabbed the coasters and placed them under the bottles.
“Mary!” Frank detested and placed his hands on his hips.
“How old do you think I am?” You tease, waving off to Frank that it was okay.
“Older than Justine, that’s for sure. She said she was 24, but looks 34. But she acts like she's 12. She hasn't even read anything on quantum physics, she thought wave mechanics was something Frank was working on with a boat,” she said coolly and popped a few jelly beans into her mouth. She nestled herself back into the couch cushions and wiggled her feet.
“Mary Elizabeth!” Frank’s voice boomed as he entered the living room.
Mary leaned over to whisper to you, “Frank says I'm not supposed to correct older people. Nobody likes a smart-ass.”
“And a busy body,” he huffed.
You nodded and laughed quietly, entertained at his expense.
“Well I am 32,” you smiled and looked at your watch, “As of one hour ago as a matter of fact.”
“That’s good. You’re much more mature than Justine and a better fit for him. Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you.”
“Mary…that’s it. You’re on your last warning,” Frank bellowed. “Don’t make me let Y/N go home and then you’re stuck with me tonight.”
“What? No! Okay. I’m sorry,” she lamented and folded her arms.
Frank’s demeanor changed as he turned to you, “I hadn’t known it was your birthday. Don’t feel pressured to sit for her tonight if you have other plans.” Secretly he wanted to cancel on Justine and spend the night celebrating you instead.
“Oh it’s okay! It kind of appeared out of nowhere. I usually go back home and celebrate with friends and family, but my schedule didn’t permit it this year. Next year, perhaps.”
“What’s your favorite dessert?” Mary asked as she chewed on another handful of jelly beans.
“Red velvet cheesecake,” you smiled. “I have a sweet tooth.”
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Frank couldn’t concentrate on his date with Justine. His mind was elsewhere. On you. Justine grazed her hand as they sat next to each other at the bar. He seemed unfazed by her gesture and looked at his watch, 9:14pm. Would it be too obvious if he cut the date short that he was into you? He coughed and took a swig of his beer.
“Do you wanna come back to my place?” She cooed and bit her lip in anticipation.
“What? Oh actually I was gonna head out. The sitter needed me home by 9:30,” he lied.
“Oh, sitter?”
“Yeah, Mary. Remember? My niece?”
“That’s right. How old is she again?”
“Seven,” He said, annoyed. He recalled they had met once before. The bartender approached them and handed Frank the receipt.
“Hey, do you have any desserts on the menu?”
Justine’s ears perked in curiosity of where he was going with asking about dessert.
The bartender grunted slightly and threw a mangled tri-fold menu and Frank grabbed it quickly.
“Buddy, ring me up for the red velvet cupcake.”
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montrealmadison · 3 years
Text
t'étais réel parce qu'il t'aimait
or, “you were real because he loved you”
i work at a place that accepts children’s book donations, so when “the velveteen rabbit” came across my desk the other day, the beginnings of this popped into my head. then the lovely lau at @weneedtotalkaboutfic​ posted this and also this about ftm!bitty and my brain just took off! enjoy <3
“Has her fever gone down?”
Bitty blows out a long breath and twists around to look at the clock, on the off chance that it’ll give him a better answer than the truth—but all it tells him is that it’s 8:07, and he’s exhausted.
“No.” He pins the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he can dry his hands. “Hasn’t budged all day.”
On the other end, his mama hums sympathetically. “It will, baby. Y’all are doin’ everything right.”
“Thanks,” he sighs, folding the dishtowel over the oven handle. “It’s just—I hate that she’s so uncomfortable.”
Bitty used to think that he’d made his peace with chaos. He’s moved schools, changed sports, reinvented himself half a hundred times. He’s come out on national television and transitioned publicly on the Internet. He’s written a book, is in the process of drafting another. He’s married to one of the most prominent NHL players in the league, for crying out loud.
But sick toddlers, Bitty is learning, are a whole other hockey game.
read more below or on ao3
Thankfully, at least the kitchen routine is muscle memory at this point: pots dried, dishwasher started, dog fed and watered for the night. The mess in here isn’t too bad, all things considered. He checks the lock on the back door and then lets himself sag against the counter, just a little. It’s been a day. A week, really. He's barely slept for the stress of it all.
“Dicky, honey, you sound like you need a break.” He can picture the frown on his mama’s face when she says it. Funny how her voice still feels like a hug from seven states away. “How’s Jack? Is he alright?”
“Mhm,” he says. “Upstairs puttin’ Ellie to bed, bless him.”
“Good. Well, listen, y’all call anytime if you need us, alright? Your daddy and I will be up, we’re goin’ to the Callahans’.”
“Ooh. Save the good gossip for me?”
“You know I will,” Mama promises with a laugh. “Now go on and sit down for me. I love you.”
“Yes, ma’am. Love you too,” Bitty says, almost absently, and flops onto the couch as the line clicks into silence.
He tries to relax—promise, he really does—but he only makes it about five minutes before the worry wins out and he has to get up again. He just can’t sit still today, especially when he hasn’t heard anything from upstairs in so long. He climbs the stairs and starts down the hall towards Giselle’s room, but pauses and peeks around the doorframe at the soft sound of Jack’s voice.
In the dim light, he can just make out Jack’s giant form carefully folded to fit into Ellie’s bed, one foot planted firmly on the floor to keep him balanced. Bitty presses a hand over his mouth, trying to resist the sudden urge to laugh at the sight of his husband trying to fit in a bed made for a toddler. Thankfully, it works, because neither Jack nor Giselle notice him—their daughter’s curled up next to her papa, tired and sleep-soft, with her flushed little face on Jack’s chest and her slow-blinking eyes fixed on the book in his hands.
The dog’s on the floor in here, too, tail thumping away against the carpet. He huffs, looks up at Bitty with big, understanding eyes as if to say: We got it in here.
Which is clearly the case—they’re already in the middle of a story. Jack is reading in soft, measured tones: “And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.”
It's the French translation, but Bitty feels himself melt almost immediately. He’d recognize The Velveteen Rabbit anywhere. It’d been his favorite as a baby, part of the reason his mama had come home one day with Señor Bun, and—well, the rest is Bittle family history. He leans in the doorway, closes his eyes and drifts while Jack reads.
He’s had a lot of time, now, to learn the differences between French Jack and English Jack, and why each language is important to him—especially where teaching his children is concerned. In French, his voice is softer, lilting, expressive in a way that transfixes Giselle and Bitty alike. Bitty himself has fallen asleep to the sound of that voice many times, and is mostly impressed that Ellie can still fight her own exhaustion just to listen a little longer.
Jack turns the page, and Bitty watches as his face and his voice soften with emotion at the next line: “And then, one day, the Boy was ill.”
Oh. Bitty remembers this part well, too—remembers the feeling of his own mama curled around him when he was sick as a kid. Remembers Coach’s shadow in the doorway, his quieter concern, his gentle hand on Bitty’s shoulder. Jack goes on: “But the Rabbit snuggled down patiently, and looked forward to the time when the Boy should be well again, and they would go out in the garden amongst the flowers and the butterflies and play splendid games in the raspberry thicket like they used to.”
Bitty remembers Señor Bun, equally patient, snuggled up under his chin, and has an idea. He backs quietly out of the room and retreats down the hall to their bedroom, where the bunny himself is propped on the pillows, waiting for them to come to bed. Bittly inhales the familiar scent of the fabric, looks into his bright embroidered eyes. He swears they look understanding somehow.
“You ready to work your magic, buddy?” he asks. “Let’s go.”
Jack does notice him this time, eyes crinkling in acknowledgment when he sees Bitty in the doorway. His voice is getting softer now, the words slowing in time with Giselle’s blinks, and Bitty crosses the room to lay Señor Bun in their daughter’s arms.
Neither of them move until they’re sure that Giselle is asleep at last; even then, Jack extracts himself from the bed as quietly as possible, smoothes the covers over her with a feather-light touch. When they meet in the hallway, Jack presses his face into Bitty’s neck. They stand there in the quiet, breathing together, for a long time.
“How is she?” Bitty finally asks.
“Hot,” Jack says, frowning. “I gave her another Tylenol.”
Bitty sighs deep, presses his forehead into Jack’s chest. “Mm, okay. Let’s hope she kicks this soon.”
“She will,” says Jack. “She’s our kid, that’s gotta count for something, right?”
“Oh, yeah.” Despite himself, Bitty finds that a smile comes easily enough. It always does with Jack’s reassurance. “Gotta be tough in this family.”
Jack laughs lightly. “Yeah.”
They retreat to their bedroom, turning off lights as they go. Their nighttime routine, too, is as comfortable as breathing now. When Bitty comes back from brushing his teeth, he finds Jack in bed, reading glasses on, still flipping through The Velveteen Rabbit.
“I’m glad you picked that one for her,” says Bitty slowly. “That was my favorite book as a kid.”
Jack turns it over in his hands, looks up at Bitty with warmth in his eyes. “This one?” he asks, smiling. “That explains Señor Bun, eh?”
“Yeah.” Bitty has to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat, and almost immediately finds himself blinking back hot tears. He bites his lip. “Well, and I, um—no, it’s stupid.”
“Bits?” says Jack, concerned. He closes the book and sits up. “Hey, no it’s not. Why else was it important?”
Bitty looks down. “I used to want to be Real,” he says, all in a rush. “Just like the Rabbit. Used to wish there’d be a fairy that would see how unhappy I was, and come and—oh, Lord—”
It’s like a switch flips in his brain; all of a sudden he’s crying in earnest, days of pent-up stress and fear rushing past the floodgates at once. Jack makes a soft sound and holds Bitty close, letting him cry it out, rocking him just a little. His hands are big and warm on Bitty’s back.
“Shh, bud, hey,” he says. “That’s not stupid at all.”
Bitty sniffles and scrubs at his eyes, lets out a burst of slightly hysterical laughter. “I—God. I don’t know what it is, I was looking at you and Ellie and—I don't know, I just wish the person I was when I first read it could see me now. I wish that little kid hadn’t had to go through all the shit I did to get here.”
Jack doesn’t say anything at first, just pulls back a little. Bitty looks up, confused—but Jack’s just reaching behind him to grab the book off his nightstand, flipping through it until he finds the page he wants. Then he puts an arm back around Bitty’s shoulders and pulls him close, kisses his temple.
“Generally,” he reads, in English this time, “by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”
He fixes Bitty with those bottomless blue eyes. "I hope you'll let me keep telling you," he says slowly, "that it all meant something, bud. You made yourself real. You gave us our daughter."
Bitty laughs, watery. "I did."
"You did." Jack kisses him again, soft and full of meaning. "And I promise I'll never stop trying to understand."
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koolkat9 · 3 years
Text
HWS Germany Ship Week 2021: Day 2
Prompt: Beach
Ship: GerFruk
Word Count: 994
Author’s Note: So this originally turned out way angstier than I meant it to be. The rules asked for not angst and although it was more hurt/comfort I didn’t want to risk anything so I wrote out the angst. I’ll probably post the original separately (since I really liked it), but I’ll share this for now. Also...the story Arthur reads them at the end may or may not have came from the one used in Erroneous Epilogue...
The Ideal Place
The sun shone bright and yellow in the clear sky overhead. Though there was a nice breeze blowing through occasionally and the beach was practically empty other than a few clusters of people outside of their own group, Arthur couldn’t help but feel irritated and hot. He was okay with beaches for an evening stroll or something of the like, but a whole day thing with the afternoon sun beating down on him was not ideal to him (he really needed to learn how to say no to Alfred’s invitations to these kinds of things). Even with the umbrella, he couldn’t seem to escape the heat. At least he was there with his lovers, though only one had the decency to sit with him.
“You can go have fun you know,” Arthur stated with a bit more hostility than he meant to.
Ludwig squeezed the Brit’s hand. “It’s no trouble. I’m happy just admiring the scenery.”
Despite his sour mood, Arthur couldn’t help but smile slightly. Leave it to Ludwig to be there, to tell him what he needed to hear, and most of all, be completely sincere and earnest with him, all which never failed to brighten Arthur’s day. Francis on the other hand never failed to annoy him, get his blood boiling and push all the right buttons to make him blow up. This time was no different. The Frenchman had spent most of their time there swimming with his idiotic friends and not even once came to check on him to make sure he was okay. The closest he got was trying to get Arthur to join them and do something fun which only made the Brit even more frustrated. 
“I thought you loved the sea Arthur?” Francis sighed, taking a seat beside his two lovers. He had been trying to get them to come to the water for the past few minutes.
“Yeah, when I’m on a boat. What can I do on a beach? You know I don’t know how to swim.”
“There is more than that,” Ludwig began, “there are sand castles, volleyball, collecting shells…”
“Aww Allemagne, who knew you could be so childish.”
The German’s cheeks flushed at the comment. Arthur only scoffed, squeezing Ludwig’s hand in comfort. “Don’t let him get to you, love. I think it's sweet.”
Francis pulled back, bringing a hand dramatically to his chest as if offended. “When did I ever say it wasn’t?”
Having quickly recovered from his French lover’s comment, Ludwig gave them a stern look. “Don’t you two start. As I was saying, there are a lot of things we could do. Even just sticking our feet in the waves to cool off.”
Arthur looked out towards the water, thinking over all of Ludwig’s suggestions. Perhaps walking along the edge of the water would be nice and a good way to stay cool. “Fine, let’s go.”
Linking hands, the trio got up and walked along the shore, allowing the waves to fall over their feet. To keep the peace Ludwig had positioned himself in the middle and it seemed to have been going well. Francis was practically skipping, kicking up water, occasionally getting the other two wet, but Arthur didn’t seem bothered by it, even joining in and playfully splashing Francis back.  Soon enough the three broke out into an all-out water war, moving farther and farther into the ocean (being mindful that it wasn’t too deep for Arthur’s sake). Arthur had it out for Francis since he basically dragged him in, while Ludwig, content to see Arthur actually enjoying himself, teamed up with him to get the Frenchman.
“Betrayal,” Francis cried as he got pelted with water attacks, “Ludwig...how could you? Agh.”
Things seemed to have been looking up for their little beach outing, that was until the waves started to grow. It was slow at first and the trio barely noticed, too wrapped up in their splashing. But as they grew and Arthur began to feel off-balance, Arthur felt his anxiety rise. “W-We...I-I-I need to get out now,” he stuttered out, making him feel embarrassed on top of his anxiousness. A particularly strong wave sent him crashing into Ludwig and he just held on tight to the man’s arm. 
Though his own nerves were starting to go a little haywire at Arthur’s reaction, Ludwig gestured to Francis to head back to shore as he began to lead Arthur out of the water. Francis wasn’t about to let Ludwig deal with this alone and took hold of Arthur’s free arm and helped Ludwig guide him out. 
No words were exchanged as they settled down onto their towels. Arthur’s hands were shaking a little but other than that there was nothing to be concerned about. “Nothing a little cuddling can’t handle,” Francis mumbled mostly to himself, but Ludwig also caught wind of it. Francis plopped down and stretched himself across Ludwig’s and Arthur’s laps.
Arthur was the first to react, his cheeks blazing red, “What the hell-”  
“Please lapin,” Francis interrupted, “Read aloud to us. No one else is around,”
“N-No way I’m reading to you frog. You’d probably only make fun or fall asleep.”
“I-I wouldn’t mind hearing you read,” Ludwig interjected, his hand finding its way into Francis’ hair without a second thought.
Arthur was caught off guard by Ludwig’s agreeance. “W-Well...I suppose it's t-two to one. Fine.” Arthur wiggled a bit in an attempt to get comfortable as well as give the other two a better view of the book in case they (Ludwig) wanted to follow along (and definitely not to cuddle closer to Ludwig). Clearing his throat, he began, “There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning, he was really splendid.”
And so, the three lovers spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on the towel, listening to a story of a velveteen rabbit, knowing that as long as they were together any place could be ideal.
((The ending feels kind of rushed but oh well its super fluffy and there is one of my favorite aspects/hcs for gerfra present so I can be happy!!!))
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