Sith!reader x Obiwan, Ahsoka, Kix, Grievous (NON romantic for all of them) gn!reader
Blood and Marrow 🔪😢
Warnings: Needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s
Gn!reader, teen!reader, Rex x reader, Kix x reader (both platonic)
To Be Held 🔪😢
Warnings: Angst, blood, and wounds
Gn!reader, Tech x reader (romantic [ig it could be read as platonic?])
Marvel
Rats 😢🔪 Part 2 😢☁️
Warnings: dehumanization, torture, electrocution, unethical experiments, Hydra trash party
Statements like this upset me weirdly even nowadays.
As a child and as a teenager I felt as though being alive was like being strapped into an unstoppable train, and seeing on the tracks ahead of me many instances of intense and unbearable suffering that I had no choice but to pass through and experience.
Dodging one of those instances gave me a sense of being in debt that I had to pay off. I knew I didn't deserve to be spared suffering, and needed to suffer even more because of it.
If you could restart your life from age 15 with all the knowledge you possessed now, so that you COULD go back and fix all your regrets/mistakes, would you do it?
Yes
No
Remaining time: 3 days 9 hours
*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).
Ok but like. What the fuck is there to do on the internet anymore?
Idk when I was younger, you could just go and go and find exciting new websites full of whatever cool things you wanted to explore. An overabundance of ways to occupy your time online.
Now, it's just... Social media. That's it. Social media and news sites. And I'm tired of social media and I'm tired of the news.
Am I just like completely inept at finding new things or has the internet just fallen apart that much with the problems of SEO and web 3.0 turning everything into a same-site prison?
You're right that the internet is smaller than it used to be, but there's still some cool stuff left in the corners. I'd recommend checking checking out Neocities if you haven't--it's an independent web hosting platform like Geocities of the old web, and there are hundreds of interesting and active pages discoverable both through their search function and through web buttons (links attached to small pictures with the title of a website) within the websites themselves. Here are three examples of web buttons you may find in link pages:
Most Neocities websites have link pages or button collections with anywhere from tens to hundreds of these. Don't be afraid to explore!
If you're looking for something more like a search engine, I can point you towards Marginalia. It's not a particularly smart engine, but it's perfectly usable if you've ever been taught to use search engines back when they were mostly run through keywords instead of full sentence comprehension. There's also an "about" and "tips" section on the front page with more information. The algorithm of Marginalia can be filtered by the user to allow, disallow, or require JavaScript depending on your needs, plus there are filters designed specifically to prioritize web 1.0 sites or mostly text-based ones. It is possible to search for modern websites with it, but it can return websites from just about any decade (since the invention of the web, obviously) so long as they contain the information you're looking for. For example, here are some random interesting sites I've found using Marginalia:
Native Languages of the Americas: Native American Cultures
BASIC HTML COMPETENCY IS THE NEW PUNK FOLK EXPLOSION!
Earthbound Text Labs by Bill Eager
The possibilities for discovery are truly endless.
Now you might want to know about directories. These make browsing for websites easier, but require you to read through and judge which ones to visit, as there aren't algorithms ranking the sites besides the whim of whoever coded the directory. Some of them have themes, others don't. Here are two that I've used:
Yesterlinks Directory
Ichigo Directory
Directories can be harder to come by just by surfing the net, but they aren't impossible to find. Many personal websites have their own directories of interesting sites hidden within them.
Webrings are similar to directories, but are actually more community-based. You have to register your website to be a part of a webring, usually by sending an email to whoever runs it and meeting some kind of entry criteria. For example, my personal website used to be a part of a webring called Sweet Dreams, which was for websites that heavily utilize color palettes and images of cute things, particularly sweets. Webrings will give you access to a widget upon entry that allow visitors and other members to browse between the registered websites in a massive ring, ergo, where the term gets its name. Webrings can have any theme or criteria for entry. If you can make a website about it, you can find a webring for it.
Now, you might be wondering about social media alternatives. I can't offer much, but I can nudge you towards the idea of forums. Here's one I found that could really use some traffic. I also browse a bit on MelonLand forum, which is actually closed right now--it's currently closed on Mondays--but on any other day of the week, you can find a fun community there dedicated to web revival. You can find it through MelonLand's main page. I'd also recommend checking out SpaceHey, which is a MySpace clone that's customizable and easy to use.
I hope this is of some help to you. The internet may feel less magical than it used to be, but that doesn't mean that the spark has completely died out. These types of indie websites need more attention if we ever hope to reverse the damage done to the internet by centralization and corporate interest. People are trying to make the web a cooler place to be, but we're going to have to do the work of finding and interacting with these projects in order to get them off the ground someday.
ALSO you should consider browsing Virtual Pet List and seeing if there are any pet sites you might be interested in playing. There is a whole genre of browser games right under your nose
[Image ID: Tweet from (@/ hagfail) reading: It was removed from Tubu. Heebee sold the IP. Poodee won't play it in your region. It's not on Dippy. You can't find it on Weeno. Gumpy lost the rights to Pheebo. Poob was removed from the app store. The FBI have issued a warning to Poob. 3 Poob executives were arrested today. /End ID]
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ
ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ › fluff, established relationship, clingy reader, kissing, happy & sad tears, comforting bucky, loverboy bucky, semi long distance, a mini drop of angst, but all is well in the end.
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ › its #missingbuckuhours so i blabbed this out bc I MISS HIM AND I WANT HIM TO COME HOME
Bucky always knows you hate it when he leaves.
The little pout on your face and sad glint of your eyes as you cling to his waist, face buried into his chest like if you tried hard enough you could just stick to him like glue and never let go.
He wouldn't mind that, he thinks. Carrying you around next to him everywhere he went. It'd be better than this.
Anything would be better than this.
He puts on a strong face for you but deep down inside he's just as miserable about leaving as you are, maybe even more. You spend the whole day together, no farther than arms length away, always touching each other in one way or another. His hand at the small of your back, your fingers brushing between his shoulder blades, legs tangled up together under the bedsheets, skin pressed against skin as you try to remember what it's like to have a normal heart rhythm.
"Do you really have to go?" You ask, while you already know the answer something aches in you to ask again, in hopes that there's a different outcome.
He hums a confirmation into your neck, hands running up and down the sides of your waist and hips, mapping out every inch of skin until the swirls of his fingerprints have memorized every cell of your skin.
"How long will you be gone?"
"Coupla' days, three at the least, maybe five most."
You let out a pitiful whine, wrapping a leg around his waist and pulling him flush against you.
"I know baby," he murmurs into the soft spot under your ear, teeth lightly grazing the edge of your lobe. "I'll be back before you know it."
"No, you won't," you mutter, disdain laced through your words. Not for him. Never for him, just for the powers that be that take him away from you.
He doesn't answer, just kisses spot under your ear and pulls in a deep breath. He knows it just as well as you do, feels it just as much. Fear wells up in the back of your ribcage, swelling in your throat until its formed itself into a lump you can't swallow. If anything, this is part you hate the most.
The fear.
The worry.
The thought that this could be the last time you see him. It's irrational, you know that, but it doesn't stop the tears from pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Bucky feels the change instantly, his grip going vice around you as he holds you impossibly closer.
"Don't," he whispers. "Don't even think about it. You know I'll always come back."
You let out a shaky breath that trembles against his collarbone.
“That’s not something you can promise,” you murmur, and you hate how small your voice sounds. You hate that fear has teeth, that it sinks in and refuses to let go.
His hand slides up your spine, warm and steady, metal fingers splayed at the small of your back like he’s anchoring you there. Like if he holds tight enough, nothing in the world can pull you apart.
“I can promise I’ll try,” he says quietly. “Every time. For you.”
That’s the problem.
He always tries. He always throws himself headfirst into the line of fire. You’ve seen it — the recklessness disguised as bravery, the way he puts himself between danger and everyone else without a second thought. As if he doesn’t count.
As if losing him wouldn’t split you clean in two.
You pull back just enough to look at him. His forehead drops to yours automatically, noses brushing, breath shared. His blue eyes search your face like he’s memorizing it, the slope of your cheek, the way your lashes clump with unshed tears.
“You don’t get to talk like you’re disposable,” you whisper. “You don’t get to decide that everyone else is worth saving more than you.”
Something flickers across his face something close to guilt, maybe. Or understanding.
His flesh hand cups your jaw, thumb brushing beneath your eye before the tear can fall. “I’m not disposable,” he says, softer now. “Not to you.”
“Not to anyone,” you correct, because he needs to hear it.
A breath passes between you.
The fear is still there. It always will be. Loving someone who walks into gunfire for a living means making peace with that kind of terror, means swallowing it down and smiling anyway.
But right now, in the quiet hum of the room, with his heartbeat steady under your palm, you let yourself be selfish.
“Come back to me,” you whisper.
His lips press to yours—not rushed, not desperate. Slow. Certain. Like sealing a vow without speaking it aloud.
“I always do,” he murmurs against your mouth.
And when he pulls you back into his chest, you hold on like you’re trying to memorize the shape of him the weight, the warmth, the way he fits.
Just in case.
Just in case.
The phone buzzes against your nightstand just as you’re reaching to turn the lamp off.
You don’t even look at the screen before answering.
“Hey,” you breathe.
On the other end, there’s a pause filled with the faint hum of bad reception, distant city noise, something metallic clinking softly, and then his voice.
“Hey, doll.”
Every inch of you loosens.
You sink back against your pillows, dragging the phone closer to your ear like you can pull him through it. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” A beat. Softer. “Yeah. I’m at the safehouse.”
The word safe settles in your chest, even if you know it’s temporary. Even if you know “safe” for him usually just means four walls and a locked door.
You glance at the clock.
It’s late. Later than you told yourself you’d stay up.
“You should be asleep,” Bucky says, like he can see the time glowing red across your ceiling. “It’s past midnight.”
“I was about to,” you lie, though you’ve been staring at your phone for the last twenty minutes.
There’s a quiet huff of amusement. “You weren’t.”
“No,” you admit. “I wasn’t.”
You hear him move around—fabric rustling, the dull thud of boots being kicked off. He exhales, long and tired, and you can picture it perfectly: shoulders slumped, jaw shadowed with stubble, hair mussed from running his hand through it one too many times.
“You should get some sleep,” he says again, gentler this time. “Long day tomorrow.”
You roll onto your side, tucking the phone beneath your cheek. “Not yet.”
A pause.
“Why?”
Because the fear hasn’t quite left your bones yet. Because you need proof he’s still here. Because his voice is the only thing that makes the distance feel survivable.
Instead, you say softly, “I just like hearing you.”
It goes quiet on his end.
Not bad quiet.
Just… full.
“What should I say?” he asks after a moment, a little unsure, like he’s not used to being wanted for something so simple.
You smile into your pillow. “Anything. I just like the sound of it.”
You hear him shift again, probably sitting down now. Maybe at a small kitchen table. Maybe on the edge of a narrow bed in a room that doesn’t feel like his.
“Alright,” he says. “Well. Mission was simple.”
You hum, eyes already growing heavier.
“In and out. Recon first. Couple of guys on the perimeter. Nothing special.” His voice lowers a fraction, instinctively keeping details vague even over a secure line. “Training paid off. Sam would’ve been insufferable about it.”
You can hear the ghost of a smile.
“There was a shootout,” he continues, almost casually. “Not bad. Short. They weren’t as organized as they thought they were.”
Your fingers curl tighter around the phone.
“You’re okay?” you murmur.
“I’m okay.” Firmer. For you.
He clears his throat, and his voice softens again. “Found something, though.”
“Yeah?” Your words are slower now.
“Yeah. There’s this little market down the block from the safehouse. Closed when I passed it, but they had a table set up outside. Stones and little carved things. Probably for tourists.”
You picture him stopping. Brows furrowed. Hands in his pockets. Pretending he’s not interested.
“There was this smooth one,” he says. “Flat. Fits right in your palm. Kinda gray with a streak of blue through it.”
You smile sleepily. “You bought me a rock?”
He chuckles under his breath, low and warm. “Yeah. I bought you a rock.”
Silence stretches, comfortable.
“Thought you could keep it on the windowsill,” he goes on. “You know. With the plants. So when the sun hits it, that blue part might catch the light.”
Your heart does that quiet, aching thing it only ever does for him.
“I love it,” you whisper, even though you haven’t seen it yet.
“I’ll bring it home,” he says.
Home.
The word settles into you like a lullaby.
He keeps talking. About the safehouse creaky pipes. About the terrible coffee he tried to make. About how the mattress is too firm and the sheets smell like industrial detergent. About how he can’t wait to sleep in your bed instead.
Your responses get softer, and slower. Eventually just small hums of acknowledgment. On the other end, Bucky notices your breathing evens out.
There’s no more hum. No more whispered reply, just the faint, steady rhythm of you asleep. He doesn’t hang up, just lowers his voice instead.
“I’m coming home,” he murmurs, even though you won’t hear it. “Get some sleep, sweetheart.”
It’s hours later when the apartment door opens quietly.
Bucky steps inside like a shadow, duffel slung over his shoulder, movements automatic and careful. The place is dark except for the dim lamp you must’ve forgotten to switch off completely.
He finds you in the bedroom.
Still curled on your side.
Still holding the phone.
His chest tightens. You didn’t even make it under the blankets properly. One arm is tucked beneath your pillow, the other loosely cradling the phone against your cheek like it’s him.
He sets his bag down silently and kneels beside the bed. Carefully, he eases the phone from your hand and places it on the nightstand. You stir faintly, brows knitting for a second, until his fingers brush your hair back from your face.
“It’s me,” he whispers.
Your expression smooths instantly. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips. Then another to your forehead. The spot just under your ear, the same place he kissed you before he left.
You sigh in your sleep.
He strips down to his t-shirt and sweats, sliding into bed behind you. The mattress dips with his weight, warm and solid and real. His arm wraps around your waist and pulls you close, exactly like he did before he left.
You instinctively scoot back into him, fitting perfectly against his chest. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt without waking.
Hi! Could you please do one where teen reader has no friends and due to her being younger, she’s a bit disconnected from the team. They all think she has friends and is busy like a normal teenager so that’s why they never reach out but they’ve also never taken to time to see that she doesn’t actually have friends.
Teen Reader x Avengers Family!
Empty Weekends
Avengers & Fem!Teen!Reader
[A/N] It's Bank Holiday Monday and it's boiling 🥵 Has anyone got any fun plans? My bestie's coming over soon and tonight we're playing Blood on the Clocktower again, I can't wait 🥳 This request was so cute, thanks my lovely ❤️ Hope you like it!
You’re packing up your gym bag when you first overhear them talking. “Movie starts at eight so I figured we could get food at six then walk over?”
“Sounds good,” Hope replies. “Did you invite Carol?”
Your heart sinks as you watch the two of them, hoping that they’ll look over, that they’ll realise. Natasha said all the girls – all of them surely included you? Neither of them even glances at you as they grab their own stuff and head out of the gym. It stings more than you’d care to admit as you slowly stand up, wiping some sweat from your forehead. Natasha had been training with you all day and hadn’t asked you once about a movie, or even told you she had plans that evening.
As you head towards the entrance you spot Tony and Sam talking, “Most of the girls are going out so I thought we could watch a movie here,” Sam says. “Rest of the team, get some snacks, maybe some beer, just chill.”
“Sounds good, I’ll send out a text,” Tony says.
Rest of the team? Surely that must include you. You linger in the doorway, waiting for one of them to say something to you. Tony’s eyes land on you and you smile, but all he does is reach over and ruffle your hair, “Have a good weekend kid. See you on Monday.”
Sam smiles at you too, “Yeah, have a good one kid.”
You visibly wilt but neither of them notices, both clearly eager to start their evening. Maybe they’re under the assumption you’ve been invited out with Natasha and the girls. Maybe they were only planning to invite people actually living in the compound, though you know Tony has his own place. Perhaps it’s your age but you’re only a few years younger than Kate, you could go watch an R-Rated movie with them…
As you head through the compound it feels like everyone’s getting ready to do something fun. Everyone except for you. You pause by the kitchen, seeing Wanda making herself a snack which she often does after training. Kate is sitting on the kitchen counter talking to her, along with Yelena. You wait for one of them to look over, to invite you to join them, but when Yelena does eventually notice you she just smiles and waves, “See you Monday, kid! Don’t get into too much trouble!”
Officially dismissed, you head for the exit, knowing exactly what format the evening, and the rest of the weekend, will now take. Your Mom will be out; she’s usually out most evenings. Your Dad had taken off years ago, you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d seen him. No one will ask you to hang out. No one will make plans with you. You’ll watch reruns of Judge Judy whilst eating whatever food your Mom left for you in the fridge, then head to bed and play on your old Nintendo DS that was just about still clinging on for dear life. You’d got it cheap at a second-hand stall a few years ago because you couldn’t afford a Nintendo Switch. There was no point buying an XBOX or a PlayStation because the only TV in the house was in the living room, and was so ancient that the cables probably wouldn’t be a match.
You have five dollars that you’d found in the park when you’d gone for that walk last week. That might get you a couple of decent snacks to make your evening slightly better. As you head through the reception you hear a burst of laughter behind you, and you have to blink back sudden tears.
You’d joined the Avengers earlier this year, after it had been discovered you could turn invisible. All you’d done was sneak into your school to get the test answers so you’d be prepared for the following day when it had suddenly turned into a whole government problem. You’d been terrified they’d lock you away indefinitely but they’d eventually handed you over to the Avengers, deciding it would be easier for them if they made you the Avengers’ problem. There’d been a long discussion but they’d ultimately agreed you weren’t dangerous, that you could continue living with your Mom, but you’d begin your training at the compound. No more school for you, Tony had hired a tutor to come in to keep you on top of your studies, but most of your time was now dedicated to intensive Avengers training.
Not having to go to school anymore was a major bonus – you’d never really made any friends there. When you’d joined the Avengers you’d been pleased by how kind they were to you, and you’d thought you’d finally found your ‘tribe’ so to speak. Months had gone by though and none of them had ever invited you to Avengers events, to hangouts, to anything outside of training.
You’ve taken just a few steps out of the compound when you stop. Suddenly you can’t stomach the thought of going home. Of sitting alone in that empty apartment with reheated leftovers from last night, wondering whether your Mom will come home tonight or whether she’ll stay at someone else’s house, not sure which is worse. You think of the Friday that she did come home, so drunk she could barely stand, how she’d woken you up by sitting on the edge of your bed, “You’ll always be a loser.” Her voice had been slurred, continuing with her monologue as you pretended to be asleep. “It’s why your Dad left. He knew as well. Your teenage years are for sneaking out, for having some fun… And all you do is sit in this apartment.”
Her hand had patted your head, and you’d burrowed under the covers, trying even harder to pretend you were asleep. It hadn’t stopped her though – her voice had carried beneath your duvet, continuously calling you a loser, a loner, saying you were wasting your teenage years. By morning she’d forgotten. She got to forget and you’d have to remember them for the rest of your life.
Whilst her words had been cruel, some of them hadn’t been untrue. Every weekend does look exactly the same. You never go anywhere or do anything. There are no friends for you to hang out with. What’s the point in ‘sneaking out’? Your Mom would’ve even notice and it’s not like you have anyone to cause mischief with. Nobody likes you. Nobody looks out for you. You’re completely alone in the world.
Before you even realise what you’re doing you turn on your heel and storm back into the compound, throwing your gym bag against the wall, and heading straight to the kitchen. More of the Avengers are gathered there now, some having a drink, some a snack, some just congregating as they all joke and banter, ready for the weekend ahead. All of them excited, none of them lonely or left out.
Steve spots you first, giving you a soft smile, “Hey kid. Did you forget something?”
“No, you guys forgot me!” You shout at the very top of your voice. Usually soft-spoken, it makes everyone pause their conversations to look at you. Normally you’d be embarrassed but the words spill out of your mouth before you can even process what you’re saying, “I like movies! I like hanging out and going for walks and playing games and I know I’m a little young but I’d probably like drinking too and I like- I like all of you! But none of you like me and I don’t get why I’m not your friend or why I’m not invited to any group activities or- Or-”
You’re finally cut off by Wanda putting an arm around your shoulders, and you burst into noisy tears. She shoots a look at the other Avengers, before leading you out of the kitchen, “It’s okay Sweetheart, let’s go somewhere a little quieter and you can tell me, okay?”
You sob as she leads you towards one of the smaller meeting rooms, used mainly for one to one’s and performance reviews. “I just- All I- I just want you to be my friend.”
“I am your friend.”
“So am I,” Yelena says, having followed you both from the kitchen. She closes the door behind her as the three of you sit in the meeting room. “What’s going on?”
“I’m so lonely,” You sniffle, letting Wanda stroke her fingers over your head. “I don’t wanna go home and sit by myself-”
“We thought you’d be out with friends,” Wanda says. “Or that you’d have plans with your parents-”
“It’s just me and my Mom, and she hates me.”
“Oh no, I’m sure she doesn’t,” Yelena says. “How could anyone hate someone as funny and considerate and resilient as you?”
“No, she does, she called me a loser and I am, I’m a fucking loser, I never go anywhere or do anything, and you guys can sense it too which is why you never invite me anywhere-”
“Slow down, slow down,” Wanda encourages, as you hiccup and choke on your words as you try to force them past your tears. “We just thought you’d get bored hanging around with a bunch of adults. We didn’t realise you were feeling so lonely.”
“Of course you can come to the movie,” Yelena says. “It is girl’s night after all.”
Your bottom lip trembles, “I- I can’t. I don’t even have any money.”
“Then I’ll pay for you,” Wanda says. “Have whatever you want at dinner, and I’ll cover your movie ticket too.”
“And you can sit by me and I’ll get us popcorn to share,” Yelena says. “And those strawberry laces, those are so good.”
“The others won’t want me there after I just yelled like that,” You sniffle.
“No one will care honey, I promise,” Wanda says. “Everyone loves you, I mean… I thought you realised you were our baby.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re all pretty protective of you,” Yelena says. “We’ve tried to give you space ‘cos you know, you’re a teenager and you’re probably way too cool for us to be fussing over you all the time-”
“Hey, is she okay?” Natasha asks, appearing in the doorway. “I got you a glass of water.”
“See,” Yelena says with a grin. “We all think the world of you.”
“Y/N’s joining us for dinner and the movie,” Wanda says.
“Oh, awesome!” Natasha says, putting your water down on the table and smiling. “You can sit next to me-”
“She’s sitting by me!” Yelena says.
“Well she has two sides and I’m sitting on the other one!”
Wanda pats your shoulder, “See? We are your friends, I promise. And now we know, we’ll invite you to more things. We didn’t mean to make so many assumptions.”
“You promise you don’t just feel sorry for me?” You ask.
“No way, you’re like the coolest person ever,” Natasha says. “You’re so young and yet you’re already such a great asset to the team. We’ll have you out on the field in no time. You’re gonna be one of the strongest Avengers, just wait.”
You let them continue comforting you, basking in their attention and praise. Yelena gently wipes at the tears on your cheeks, whilst Natasha encourages you to drink your water. Wanda keeps her arm around you the entire time, and you can finally feel that protectiveness that they were talking about. The weekend still stretches ahead of you, feeling never ending, but for tonight at least, you have plans. You have friends. You’re not alone anymore. Maybe you never will be again.
so i checked out your guidelines and you said that you like plot to be included too so i hope this isn't too much for you.
R is 11 here if that's okay with you.
can i ask you to write an avengers x teen!reader where tony adopts a kid from foster care and the team is trying to get her to open up but she locks herself in her room because she's used to moving from home to home or being abused in the system so she's scared to do anything normal like interact and stuff like that. when they showed her room on the first day she was hesitant to go in bc she's used to poor treatment. Wanda and Nat are the first ones to notice her behavior and they point it out to the rest of the team. they come up with a plan to help her but it only pushes her further away from them bc she isn't used to that much attention. they decide that when she's ready she'll come to them so one game night she tip toes downstairs and peaks in the living room to see them having a good time. wanda or vision senses her energy and she tries to silently sneak back but they invite her in and she reluctantly joins them. she isn't too familiar with the games they're playing so they teach her then afterwards they watch a bunch of movies and they're glad they can give her the family she never had.
Family
Summary: Sometimes it takes a while to find your true family.
Pairing: Avengers x teen!reader
Warnings: none
Word count: 1116
a/n: This is not too much at all! Thank you for the request :) (I’m sorry this is terrible)
Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore
Walking into an entirely new surroundings is always anxiety inducing, but it’s especially scary when the people leading you to your so called new room are the world’s mightiest heroes.
There’s two men and two women in front of her, she knows who they are, of course, but she isn’t going to bring it up. Surely they have already sensed it.
One of the men, Iron Man, or Tony, as he told her to call him, is talking constantly. His hands are moving up and down, side to side as he gestures to different rooms and what’s in them. He is walking right in front of her, creating a sort of barrier between them. Wanda on the other hand, is walking next to her, occasionally glancing down at her.
Y/N keeps her eyes on Tony’s back. She doesn’t want to look anyone in the eyes or seem too fearful by mapping out the place.
“And this here,” Tony stops walking and opens a door, “is your room.” He turns to look at her with a big grin.
Not moving, Y/N stares inside the room. The four of them keep looking at her, waiting to see her reaction, but they get none.
Tony clears her throat. “You can go in, kid.” With small steps, she goes into the room. “We know it’s a bit empty, but you just tell me whatever you need and want, and I’ll buy it.”
She doesn’t need anything. It’s not like this room will be hers for long. It’s usual for her to stay in a home for a month at best. So, it’s better to not get attached to anything or anyone.
Wanda has a frown on her face as she watches Y/N set down her tiny bag. She’s worried of the girl, but puts those feelings on the side, this is a big change after all.
“Should we leave you to settle in?” Steve speaks up when the silence starts to drag on for a long time. “Someone could come get you when dinner is ready.”
With a nod from Y/N, the four of them close the door and leave her alone with her thoughts. With no one around, she lets out a deep breath and starts inspecting the room. It’s bigger than any other room she has had, and cleaner.
It’ll definitely be harder to leave this room behind when the time eventually comes.
After two very uneventful days, Natasha and Wanda have started talking with the other Avengers how Y/N doesn’t seem to get better, even though they’re giving her plenty of space. So, they decide to try another approach.
Wanda knocks on the door with a huge smile. Some of the other team members are behind her with boxes.
Opening the door only slightly, Y/N peeks through the gap. “Hi!” Wanda waves. “We got you something, if you could open the door a bit more?” Her voice is gentle and on the quieter side.
Y/N opens the door properly. Her eyes widen when she noticed the others and all the boxes waiting there. “We bought you some furniture and decorations.” Natasha brings one of the boxes in the room. “Obviously, we don’t know for sure what you like, but I think we got some good stuff.”
She stays frozen on her spot, out of the way, staring at the others walking in and out of the room. There are so many of them at the same time. Y/N doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Is this a test?
In fear of being punish for a wrong reaction, she decides to not react at all. Her hands are shaking behind her back, but she doesn’t let them see her fear. She just stares at them with a stoic expression.
“What do you think?” Wanda asks once the things are set. “You can obviously change things around if they aren’t to your liking, but this is a good start, yeah?” When Y/N just nods mutely, Wanda’s smile falls.
A silence falls over the room. Very uncomfortable and heavy silence. “Well,” Natasha clears her throat. “We’ll let you be.”
When the door closes, Wanda and Natasha glance at each other. “That didn’t work out the way I wanted.” Wanda mumbles. “I really thought that’d help her get out of her shell.”
“Maybe we just need to let her be.”
She huffs. “I know, it’s just so difficult when I can basically hear her worries.”
“It’ll happen, lets just do it on her terms.”
A week goes by where it almost seems like Y/N pulled into her shell even more. She wouldn’t speak to anyone, or even want to physically be in the same room as someone else. One of the team members always had to go knock on her door and leave a plate of food in front of it, so she would eat.
Most of the team got back into their regular routines, though their worry stayed the same, but they couldn’t stand outside her door forever. Wanda and Natasha would talk to her through the door at times, even if the conversation was fully one sided.
Today, the Avengers decided to spend the evening playing different board games. It’s not unusual for them, as they like to do bonding activities together.
Tony knocked on Y/N’s door to ask her to join them, but only got a small head shake as an answer. However, after an hour and a half, Y/N opens the door carefully.
She sneaks towards the living room, being cautious not to make any noise. Stopping right before the room, she peaks in. All the team members are laughing and shouting together.
Y/N takes deep breaths to calm herself down, these kind of situations still make her incredibly nervous. Suddenly, Wanda turns to look at her.
Her eyes turn wide and she is just about to turn away to go back to her room’s safety, but Wanda speaks up before she can. “Hey, sweetheart. Do you want to join us?” Now some of the others turn to look at her.
With hesitance, Y/N starts walking towards them. They’re surprised by this, but try their best not to show it. “We’re playing Monopoly. You ever played it?” Tony asks as Y/N sits between Wanda and Natasha.
“No.”
“That’s alright, we’ll teach you.” Wanda smiles, putting one more pawn to the board.
Y/N stays quiet for quite some time during the game night, but when the evening goes on, she starts initiating conversation more and even leans on Wanda’s side at times.
Maybe this family is different after all, it certainly isn’t ordinary.
"someone who really has pOCD would be disgusted and horrified at their intrusive thoughts" or maybe i'm in therapy & am going by the books, being radically ambivalent to my intrusive thoughts instead of wasting energy mentally washing my paws of sin. i'm not going to perform my rock bottom for you for the sake of being believed.
The Tube Post has been updated for 2026! Endless thanks to @andstuffsketches for the amazing art (!!!), @rowenabean for checking this over for me (all remaining mistakes are my own), @kelpforestdwellers for extra tips, and @appleyblam for an editing pass. Thank you all!
If you would like to download the zine for your own use, you can find it for free on itch.io.
