for a letter jessica left for natasha in case she died:
to the hot russian spy (natasha romanoff, u’d like her trish):
nat,
i never call u nat, but im too lazy to write out your full name okay. i mean, i probably should take the time, but... fuck it, im dead.
first things first -- dont bother going after anyone involved. i know you want to, but lets be real, this shit is probably my own damn fault. probably literally. and i refuse to add to that list of shit you need to make amends for. save it for something important.
ive never been good at goodbyes. ask trish, the blonde bombshell whos delivering this. usually i just up and go, but this time, i thought id actually say something. because youve been... christ, youve been a gooad goddamn friend to me. i dont have many of those. (trish will confirm that, too.)
im sorry. sorry that i wasnt fast enough or strong enough or whatever enough to make it through this. by this, i largely mean my goddamn sorry excuse for a life. you know better than most people how sorry it was. im sorry i wasnt more like you. im pretty sure you could survive just about goddamn anything. i may have... looked into what you went through. just a little, there’s not a whole goddamn lot to find, these fuckers are good at covering their tracks. but avengers security isnt that hard to hack from inside the tower, honestly. probably never shoulve invited me over, im just saying.
im also sorry for throwing up in front of you that one time. christ, probably more, but my memorys shit okay. i know it was probably super un-sexy, but you werent ever gonna make out with me anyway. i wouldve liked to, just once. but you know that.
im kind of grateful though. that you made me talk instead of just letting me distract myself. talking usually made me feel like shit, but with you it was easy. i dont know why. maybe because you have your own goddamn baggage, your own scales youll never balance, but you keep trying to anyway. maybe thats why. or maybe it was just a damn spy thing. or maybe, i dont know. you had this way of looking at me and just... seeing it. seeing me.
i can count on one goddamn hand how many people know about kilgrave that werent there. trish, you, goddamn bruce wayne. (thanks for listening to my pathetic rambles about him by the way -- those texts were not goddamn pretty.) i dont -- didnt -- trust easy. but i trusted you. to handle it. to handle me. i shouldnt have put that shit on you, but you never once complained.
i wanna tell you that what happened, what they made you do, those people you hurt -- that it doesnt matter. that it doesnt define you. but we both know that isnt true. that blood and bad memories make us who we are as much as any other shit. i dont know if people like us can ever make amends, i dont think those scales are ever gonna goddamn tip in our favor, but... do me a favor and keep trying anyway. please.
and look, i know clint is an idiot, like 75% of the time, but he’s also an idiot whos in love with you. and it doesnt take a p.i. to figure out youre in love with him too. so dont let go of that. you two deserve to be happy, despite everything. that much i honestly believe.
you really are goddamn incredible. not because of the hero stuff, or the spy stuff, or the hot stuff. but because of who you are. the effect you have on people. even pieces of shit like me.
i hope your closure works out better than mine did. i really do. do what you have to, and dont waste guilt on those assholes. (i never claimed i wasnt a goddamn hypocrite okay.)
“Natasha is everything I wish I could be,” Jessica slurs to Clint. She dragged him to a bar this time, and she keeps breaking glasses on accident. “If anyone can actually make amends for their shit, it’s her. She’s – she’s like nothing else. No one else is that strong, that capable, that hot –” She grins to herself, tips the bottle back again. “And I trust her. I do. Christ, that’s weird.” She shakes her head, glances at him. “But even if I could steal her from you – which I goddamn can’t, by the way, I’ve fucking tried getting her to make out with me – I wouldn’t. She deserves better, deserves you.”
trish:
Jessica looks over at Trish, dozing on the arm of her couch. Buffy is playing in the background, a demolished bowl of popcorn on the table in front of them. Jessica has her feet sprawled out on Trish’s lap, taking up most of the couch. “I’m proud of you,” she says quietly, because she doesn’t want to wake her sister. Couldn’t say these things when she’s awake. “For doing the hero thing. Even though I think you’re a goddamn idiot, too.” She bites her lip, glancing over the steal-healing bruises and cuts, shifts her legs so they aren’t so close to Trish’s bruised ribs. “You’ve always been a hero to me, Trish. Always.”
wanda:
Jessica is drunk, has been for a good two hours. The kind of sloppy, terrible, let’s revisit every terrible memory drunk. So she has her phone out, flits between her text messages with the asshole twins. You’re a monster, she reads from Wanda, and her grip tightens on the phone. “I wish I could fucking hate you,” she mutters darkly, glaring at the phone through blurry eyes. Tears or booze, she’s not sure which. “More than myself anyway. Goddammit, how are you – how are you such a goddamn, motherfucking hero? How can you do manage to do good with what you can do, how do you goddamn smile still –” She stops herself, breathing heavily. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the piece of shit. But I just don’t get it. How you can be such a goddamn good person, with a ‘gift’ like that.” She sighs irritably, tosses the phone across the room. “I don’t hate you. I don’t. And that’s what sucks about this the most. That I can’t even hate you, that you’re still so much better than I could hope to be.”
If you had told her two months ago that she’d be friends with an Avenger, Jessica would’ve said you were high. She would’ve said she didn’t have any goddamn friends -- except Trish, but that was different.
But now...
She’s not exactly sure how it all happened. At first it was just because Natasha was hot, because Jessica Jones is a shallow motherfucker on occasion, and a total sucker for redheads who buy her drinks. But then it became something else, something more, something she doesn’t let herself have.
She actually trusts Natasha. More than she can admit out loud. Besides the people who were involved, she’s the only person who even has pieces of the Kilgrave story. And when Trish was gone in L.A., Jessica found herself being drawn more and more to Natasha, to this woman who listened and understood and carried her own demons.
To be honest, she’s waiting for it all to go south. For her to fuck it up, like she tends to do with all her relationships. She can’t help but push people away. But she doesn’t feel the urge to protect Natasha from her. (Maybe spare her from Jessica’s goddamn sob story, that’s different.) But she knows Natasha can handle whatever she throws at her. It terrifies her and makes her so goddamn grateful at the same time.
THIS IS GONNA BE SOME SHIT I HOPE U R PREPARED FOR A DESPERATE JESSICA JONES BC JFC SHE IS SO GODDAMN INTO NATASHA IT AINT FUNNY
waIT DID U NOT SEND ME THIS DAWN I THOUGHT U SENT IT BUT U JUST SENT ME NATASHA AND JESS AGAIN OH WELL HERE IT IS
Who’s more likely to find who wearing their clothes?: JESSICA JONES IS A PERPETUAL CLOTHES THIEF. seriously she might even surprise Nat by putting on her superhero outfit and being like ‘ooh, want it back? TAKE IT OFF ME THEN.’
Who enunciates hand holding?: Probs Jessica. She’s not a big fan of holding hands, but touching Natasha is like touching a goddamn goddess, and she’ll take every opportunity she can.
Who likes having their hair washed by who?: Seriously though, not even Natasha is allowed to wash her hair. And I’m pretty sure if they got in the shower, Jessica would be 300% too distracted to do any hair-washing.
Who likes to slow dance?: I imagine Nat does actually. She’s graceful that way. Jessica would be clinging to her for deal life, trying not to fall. She’d be trying her damndest because she knows it’s as important to Nat as is it hard for her, so she’d probably be cracking jokes the whole time to make it easier.
Muse that’s more likely to fall asleep with their head in the others lap?: Jessica is ten times more likely to fall asleep in Nat’s lap. I can see her, in the Avenger’s Tower, drunkenly mocking everyone who walks through the door, while Nat just plays with her hair and shakes her head.
Muse that does all the cuddling in a blanket fort?: JESSICA. LOVES. TO. CUDDLE. Picture it: Natasha has constructed this incredibly complex blanket fort that has the structural integrity to withstand even Jessica’s wild drunken flailing. And Jessica squirms her way inside, and isn’t even shy (bc lbr when is she ever shy) about snuggling up next to Natasha. Resting her head on her shoulder, wrapping her arms around her waist, just wanting to be c l o s e.
Who hogs most of the covers at night?: It’s a bitter fight (like literally they race to bed to get all the blankets) until Nat threatens to kick Jessica out of the bed until she shares. Jessica then reluctantly gives up like, 2% of the blankets.
Muse who nuzzles the others shoulder to get them to give them a head rub?: Jessica would nuzzle the fuck out of Natasha, like 24/7. Nat is literally the only person who could make her beg ngl. But I could see Natasha doing this in a really quiet moment, when they’re watching a movie or something, and Jessica would loooove to touch that hair
How do they share a desert? Two forks or one?: Still two. Sorry Nat, Jessica just can’t let herself go that easily.
Who gets jealous more easily?: If these two ever became a thing, Jessica would be consumed by two things: guilt and jealousy. Bc I imagine that Clint and Nat remain friends, but Jessica would always be thinking in the back of her mind ‘oh fuck oh fuck did I get in the way, I’m in the way, fuck goddammit, she’s gonna go back to him.’
Who gets angered more easily?: They both got a temper, l o l, but Nat is 200000% better at keeping it in check. Jessica, on the other hand, has literally the shortest fuse and no self-control. On a bad day, everything annoys her and she’s not quiet about it.
How do they go to sleep at night?: With Jessica begging for just one more round. Sex or drinks, she’s not fussy. I imagine Nat literally having to drag her to bed, because Jessica never goddamn sleeps
Who gets the most shoulder rubs?: Natasha. She comes over after a long day of Avenging, and Jessica teases her about how tense she is, and then forces her to sit down and accept the damn backrub, because ‘you gotta take care of yourself, you idiot, just let me.’
What are there arguments/fights like? How often do they fight?: The arguments are probably loud, violent, and messy. Like Jessica -- and because of her. Natasha would try to keep her cool, but Jessica can worm her way under a person’s skin, and her words get goddamn sharp when she’s pissed off. I imagine they don’t fight often, though, but when they do, Jessica winds up in a headlock with Natasha coolly saying ‘You done now?’
Who is more likely to throw things in fights?: HAhahahahahahah three guesses.
How do they make it up to each other/apologize after an argument?: I think Natasha’s apologies would be straightforward and blunt, which Jessica would appreciate (even without a whiskey bottle & bow). Jessica, on the other hand, would show up at the Tower, totally wasted, and just start babbling and begging for forgiveness. She would drop to her knees and be like ‘babe, pls, I’ll eat you out if you just forgive me? I’m an asshole, but I know what you liiiiike.’
Do they have nicknames for each other?: Jessica calls Nat, at every opportunity, the Hot Russian Spy. Nat is a given, also. I imagine Natasha is the only one who can get away with teasingly calling her Jessie, anyone else would get decked the fuck out.
Caring for each other while ill, how does the other muse go about it?: Natasha would force her to go to a doctor, at least see the team at the Tower. Jessica would grumble and bitch the entire time. ‘I’m fiiiiine, jfc.’ If Natasha was sick, Jessica would make her canned soup (bc she can’t cook for shit, and she’d probably have to borrow cash to go buy the fucking soup to begin with) and tease Natasha the whole time. She’d dote on her, getting her pain pills and a wash cloth, texting Claire for pointers, but the entire time she’d be like ‘Who knew Avengers could get the flu?’ ‘Do you think I could kick your ass now, or would you still twist me into a pretzel?’ ‘If I get sick from kissing you, I’m gonna be pissed.’ *kisses anyway*
Who’s more likely to be patching the others wound?: Honestly, they take turns. Jessica’s medical care involves more whiskey than when Natasha patches her up, but they both get real good at first aid real fast.
Muse that says ‘I told you so’, after they come home from the beach and other muse is burnt to a crisp while whining how bad it hurts for not listening and putting on sunblock after the other muse repeatedly told them they’d get burnt?: NATASHA. bc Jessica is an idiot. Nat would be sitting there, cackling bc Jessica would literally be the same color as Nat’s hair, and it’s her own damn fault.
Your muse’s reaction to finding the others crying about something? And how do they make them feel better?: Jessica would get a bottle and set it between them, and then sit in front of Natasha. I’m imagining Nat on a couch somewhere, and Jessica just kneeling in front of her, not saying anything bc she’s bad at this, until she finally just goes ‘I’m sorry, I just --’ and gently touches Natasha’s knee. ‘I hate seeing you like this, Christ, what do you need?’ If Natasha found Jessica in ruins (bc when she cries, she cries) I imagine Jessica just crumpling into her, clinging at her and muttering about her fucked up head until Natasha shushes her and starts singing in Russian.
What would they be like as parents?: Natasha would be a tough-love parent, but Jessica would totally go behind her back and be like ‘look, you aren’t really grounded, yeah, you can go to whatever.’ It would be a source of sweet contention between them, but they’d always make up. I imagine them raising a couple of badass teenage girls, and the one thing they absolutely agree on is that their girls get all the support and love in the world, and that they learn to defend themselves. Jessica teaches them to take no shit, Natasha teaches them how to take no shit and walk away the victor.
What would they have been like as childhood sweethearts?: Let’s go AU for a moment, and pretend there is no red room. (although them both in a red room would be pretty epic and probably super feelsy, but I don’t have the canon knowledge to imagine that) So imagining them as next door neighbors -- Jessica constantly getting pissy bc Nat is super good at hide and seek. They hang out on their respective rooftops, do the whole can-and-string thing. They experiment together as teenagers, when Jessica is a total mess after her parents death and turns to her only friend for comfort. Nat would totally want to kick Ms. Walker’s ass, especially for taking her away, but Jess would still sleep over all the time. They’d probably drag Trish along, and Trish would be the one to pull Jessica aside and be like ‘JFC I’m a third wheel here?? Can you two just kiss already???’ And then they do, and nothing hURTS OKAY
Who enunciates taking a bath together?: Never gonna happen. Neither of them would even think to suggest it.
Who likes who playing with their hair?: They probably both do. I can imagine Jessica being tense the first couple of times, but secretly growing to like it, because jesus, she just likes it when Natasha touches her. Natasha doesn’t let herself be vulnerable, like ever, but she shows just a slight hint of it, and lets Jessica play with her hair when Jessica is feeling super off, and needs to be in control for a while.
The place they mostly likely accidentally fall asleep together?: Literally anywhere Jessica falls asleep is by accident. I can imagine them both falling asleep in like, the kitchen of the Tower, right on the table, bc Jessica doesn’t want to go to bed and Nat doesn’t want to make her even though they’re both exhausted, and they wind up like, half-slumped over each other, an empty bottle on the table in front of them.
