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Same goes for you.
All I know about rollerskating is that in 1937 there was a bus carrying a roller derby team that caught on fire and 20 people died.
...but I've been ice skating before.
All I know about rollerskating is that in 1937 there was a bus carrying a roller derby team that caught on fire and 20 people died.
...but I've been ice skating before.
Yeah, it was big news.
It could be fun. You've gotta bundle me up though, cause you know how much I hate the cold.
It could be fun. You've gotta bundle me up though, cause you know how much I hate the cold.
mistletoe things...that might have to do with the stray start i'm sending your way later
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missrichterscale
2024-12-24 07:35 am (UTC)(link)
The holidays are a weird time for Daisy. With her former team - her family - kind of breaking off and doing their own thing between being busy as the Director of SHIELD, an agent out in the field, teaching at the Academy, going on a bit of soul searching, retiring or... going into space in her case, it means not everyone is aware of the holidays or in touch with each other and it's...lonely. There are familiar faces she recognizes out on missions or in debriefs, but they're not the same as the people she spent many years with saving the world. Or Yelena, even if they haven't known each other all that long.
Daisy likes Yelena and seeing she isn't at the holiday party, it makes her decision an easy one as she puts in a little face time, grabs some goodies, steals a sprig of mistletoe and some vodka before deciding to head to Yelena's instead. It's all without a text to let her know she's on her way so she kind of feels a rise of anxiousness for a moment, thinking that maybe dropping by is a stupid idea and Yelena won't hesitate to tell her so.
But. Maybe it isn't.
"Open up, I have presents!" It comes after a quick three knock pattern, to try and entice Yelena in opening up the door. "And it's cold!"
Daisy likes Yelena and seeing she isn't at the holiday party, it makes her decision an easy one as she puts in a little face time, grabs some goodies, steals a sprig of mistletoe and some vodka before deciding to head to Yelena's instead. It's all without a text to let her know she's on her way so she kind of feels a rise of anxiousness for a moment, thinking that maybe dropping by is a stupid idea and Yelena won't hesitate to tell her so.
But. Maybe it isn't.
"Open up, I have presents!" It comes after a quick three knock pattern, to try and entice Yelena in opening up the door. "And it's cold!"
Despite the fact that Christmas, and more specifically American Christmas was one of her favorite things in the world, she’s just not feeling very festive. So, Yelena is holed up in her flat, on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and her dog next to her, trying to decide what to put on tv for background noise.
Which, of course, is when the knock comes on her door.
She isn’t expecting anyone and it brings a touch of a frown to her features. “Ostavat’sya,” she murmurs quietly to Franny, who perks up at the knock, but does as asked with familiar command; she still watches Yelena very closely as she goes to answer the door.
The knock, rhythmic in the same way twice, comes again and this time a voice is accompanied with with it. A voice Yelena recognizes, which drops all of her hackles as she yanks the door open, “Daisy Johnson, what are you doing here?”
Which, of course, is when the knock comes on her door.
She isn’t expecting anyone and it brings a touch of a frown to her features. “Ostavat’sya,” she murmurs quietly to Franny, who perks up at the knock, but does as asked with familiar command; she still watches Yelena very closely as she goes to answer the door.
The knock, rhythmic in the same way twice, comes again and this time a voice is accompanied with with it. A voice Yelena recognizes, which drops all of her hackles as she yanks the door open, “Daisy Johnson, what are you doing here?”
"Saving you, from the looks of things." There's a note of teasing, of mirth between her tone and the glint in her eyes as she looks at Yelena, noting that her place seems quiet - aside from the shuffle of the dog on the couch because she is curious, as is her right - and Daisy decides that is probably about as bad as it would've been had she gone back to her place with her tiny pre-decorated tree and festive wear on her hula girl to keep her company.
It would've been worse, because at least Yelena has her dog.
"I saw you didn't get dragged to the party, so I brought the party to you," she's holding up the arm full of items she stuffed in a decorative bag she'd taken on her way out so she had a way of holding everything and tries to move it enticingly for Yelena. "It's not a bad time, right?"
It would've been worse, because at least Yelena has her dog.
"I saw you didn't get dragged to the party, so I brought the party to you," she's holding up the arm full of items she stuffed in a decorative bag she'd taken on her way out so she had a way of holding everything and tries to move it enticingly for Yelena. "It's not a bad time, right?"
"From what?" she glances back over her shoulder into her flat, "Being home and with my dog? That is basically everyone's wish in life, yes?"
Still, she isn't actually denying her entry into her apartment, as she side-steps to give her space to walk in and Yelena locks up behind her. Locks make her feel better, even if she knows, given her specific line of work, they are essentially useless.
"Did you bring half of the snack table with you?" she asks, amused. "No, no bad time. Just a boring one... which will be less so, now that you are. here." she snaps in Franny's direction, which gives her permission to finally leap from the couch and run over to sniff at Daisy's shoes and lick her knee. Just dog things, you know.
Still, she isn't actually denying her entry into her apartment, as she side-steps to give her space to walk in and Yelena locks up behind her. Locks make her feel better, even if she knows, given her specific line of work, they are essentially useless.
"Did you bring half of the snack table with you?" she asks, amused. "No, no bad time. Just a boring one... which will be less so, now that you are. here." she snaps in Franny's direction, which gives her permission to finally leap from the couch and run over to sniff at Daisy's shoes and lick her knee. Just dog things, you know.
If there's one constant truth, it's that Alexei Shostakov is not doing alright. Not one bit. Adjusting to society after twenty years in prison had already been tough enough. Hunting down other Widows to free from the Red Room's control had also been tough, in a completely different way. Trying to navigate what was going on between him and Melina- if anything- had been a third tough thing. Then came that fourth thing in the form of turning to dust, losing more than five years as the world proceeded without him, then coming back to existence to absolute chaos. That was the final straw, really. That, and losing Natasha.
He found a home in America and spends most of his days watching TV, absorbing that very same culture he'd feigned to be part of in the 90s. His job just barely pays enough to cover the bills. When one has fallen so far, even getting out of bed in the morning is a chore, but he's no quitter. He keeps going, because there's still one person left of their little family who pays visits every so often. He can't let Yelena down.
Those visits are hard to predict, though. Right now, he's wrapped up deeply in a Seinfeld marathon (good, harmless, American fun), while trying to clumsily eat some leftover noodles straight from the take-out box. Red Guardian, ladies and gentlemen!
He found a home in America and spends most of his days watching TV, absorbing that very same culture he'd feigned to be part of in the 90s. His job just barely pays enough to cover the bills. When one has fallen so far, even getting out of bed in the morning is a chore, but he's no quitter. He keeps going, because there's still one person left of their little family who pays visits every so often. He can't let Yelena down.
Those visits are hard to predict, though. Right now, he's wrapped up deeply in a Seinfeld marathon (good, harmless, American fun), while trying to clumsily eat some leftover noodles straight from the take-out box. Red Guardian, ladies and gentlemen!
Yelena has been... lost since coming back from nothingness. Five years passed her by in a matter of seconds. It wasn't easy to put together. Worse still was realizing that she had missed her own sister's death. She was intent on taking out the man said to be responsible, and she almost had, until he had known that whistle. It took every ounce of wind left in her sails and it was the moment she realized she could not trust Valentina.
Saving the other Widows was at least a purpose to work toward, but the ones left had proven impossible to find, already dead, or they had saved already. Watching them wake up never got any easier, either. She dreams of it, and of the things she had done under Drekyov's intense control after Natasha had defected.
Her family barely exists now; Natasha is gone, Yelena isn't even sure where Melina is, and her father... well. At least she can still drop in on him from time to time, yes?
She doesn't bother knocking, instead she simply picks the locks on his door and slips inside. Perhaps not the smartest move, but... he is old, and not near as spry as he once ways, so even if he tries to attack her for catching him off-guard, she does not doubt her ability to dodge it. "Hi, dad..." she says from behind the couch before she moves around it to sink down onto it next to him.
Saving the other Widows was at least a purpose to work toward, but the ones left had proven impossible to find, already dead, or they had saved already. Watching them wake up never got any easier, either. She dreams of it, and of the things she had done under Drekyov's intense control after Natasha had defected.
Her family barely exists now; Natasha is gone, Yelena isn't even sure where Melina is, and her father... well. At least she can still drop in on him from time to time, yes?
She doesn't bother knocking, instead she simply picks the locks on his door and slips inside. Perhaps not the smartest move, but... he is old, and not near as spry as he once ways, so even if he tries to attack her for catching him off-guard, she does not doubt her ability to dodge it. "Hi, dad..." she says from behind the couch before she moves around it to sink down onto it next to him.
Alexei's so absorbed in what's happening on TV (ha ha, he does not want to wear the puffy shirt but he has already agreed to do it), he doesn't hear the picking of the lock, nor does he hear the opening and closing of the door. He thinks he hears the creak of a floorboard right as some noodles slip from his fork, back into the takeout box. Before he can turn around, though, Yelena has already spoken up and he starts in his seat. His head turns so fast it leaves him in danger of spraining a muscle or two.
"Yelena! You did not tell me you were coming...!" he says, his voice louder than usual from surprise and just a sprinkling of embarrassment. His house is pretty messy right now and the noodles... Well, he'll set them down on the table with one swift motion, hoping they won't be questioned.
"Yelena! You did not tell me you were coming...!" he says, his voice louder than usual from surprise and just a sprinkling of embarrassment. His house is pretty messy right now and the noodles... Well, he'll set them down on the table with one swift motion, hoping they won't be questioned.
"I didn't know I was coming," she says, her voice flat. She doesn't care about the mess or the noodles- things she would surely call him out on any other time. It's obvious she's not in a typical mood.
She slips her shoes off and scoots them under the table, out of the way, and wraps her arms around her legs as she hugs them to her chest. She looks so small and so much younger than she really is when she does things like this. Maybe it's habit, in a way, old automatic actions she falls into around him because of the dynamic she remembers from Ohio.
"What are you watching?" she asks, not really interested in the answer, but needing to break the silence.
She slips her shoes off and scoots them under the table, out of the way, and wraps her arms around her legs as she hugs them to her chest. She looks so small and so much younger than she really is when she does things like this. Maybe it's habit, in a way, old automatic actions she falls into around him because of the dynamic she remembers from Ohio.
"What are you watching?" she asks, not really interested in the answer, but needing to break the silence.
Alexei recognizes the gesture. Even so many years later, he can still vividly picture a young girl doing the same thing when she was upset. She was so much smaller back then, so much frailer. Still, some things never change, and that includes Alexei's desire to cheer her back up. He sits back on the couch again, leaving the box of noodles where it is on the table. He won't ask what's bothering her; that's not really his style. If she wants to talk, she'll talk, and until then, he'll distract her with other things.
"Jerry Seinfeld. Famous American comedian. We would watch this sometimes, in Ohio. Do you remember?"
Not that Alexei watched it in quite the same light back then. 'Ridiculous Western propaganda', that was what he'd thought. Nowadays, sentiments like that have lost their meaning.
"Jerry Seinfeld. Famous American comedian. We would watch this sometimes, in Ohio. Do you remember?"
Not that Alexei watched it in quite the same light back then. 'Ridiculous Western propaganda', that was what he'd thought. Nowadays, sentiments like that have lost their meaning.
He doesn't ask, and she doesn't volunteer any information. She barely knows how to put what she's feeling into words if she's completely honest with herself. Maybe if she doesn't think about it very hard, it will come to her. It works for some things, like when she loses a pen, and it seems to appear from nowhere as soon as she stops looking for it.
"What is it even about? What does the funny man do?" her eyes are on the tv screen, but she's barely taking any of it in. "Maybe... I think I remember the weird one, with the hair that looks like he was shocked by electricity."
"What is it even about? What does the funny man do?" her eyes are on the tv screen, but she's barely taking any of it in. "Maybe... I think I remember the weird one, with the hair that looks like he was shocked by electricity."
"Yes! Kramer," he says, hoping that will jog her memory further. "He is the funniest one. Always sliding into apartment unexpected, taking food from Jerry's fridge... And he does not work. He never works. Only gets up to shady moneymaking schemes. They say Seinfeld is a show about nothing, but there is a lot happening. Very good commentary on petty American society."
Truly, he is sophisticated for watching this series. There are layers there to peel away. But more importantly, it makes him smile, and there are days where he needs that smile. Maybe it'll make Yelena smile too. He hopes so.
Truly, he is sophisticated for watching this series. There are layers there to peel away. But more importantly, it makes him smile, and there are days where he needs that smile. Maybe it'll make Yelena smile too. He hopes so.
[3. I had a threesome with my hot neighbor and his girlfriend and by threesome I mean I heard them getting it on in their apartment and I was in my apartment eating ice cream]
I am not!
If you met her, you would understand.
I am not!
If you met her, you would understand.
Edited 2025-02-14 14:55 (UTC)
I do, yeah.
So take your time, I'll let myself in.
So take your time, I'll let myself in.
Spasibo, milyy.
I will see you soon xox
———
While he takes care of the rest, Yelena goes to find her painkillers to toss down her throat before she gets into an incredibly hot shower to help wash away some of the yuck that comes with a hangover.
She lingers for awhile, letting the near-scalding water help ease some of the knots in her shoulders; distantly, she has a thought about asking James to help press the rest of it out with a massage later.
She wanders out eventually in a black and pink pajama set she can be comfortable in. Her apartment is warm enough, she’s not cold despite being in shorts. She drags a brush through her hair and tosses it up in a claw clip out of the way.
“I smell bacon,” she says, sing-song in her tone, as she makes her way toward the kitchen.
I will see you soon xox
———
While he takes care of the rest, Yelena goes to find her painkillers to toss down her throat before she gets into an incredibly hot shower to help wash away some of the yuck that comes with a hangover.
She lingers for awhile, letting the near-scalding water help ease some of the knots in her shoulders; distantly, she has a thought about asking James to help press the rest of it out with a massage later.
She wanders out eventually in a black and pink pajama set she can be comfortable in. Her apartment is warm enough, she’s not cold despite being in shorts. She drags a brush through her hair and tosses it up in a claw clip out of the way.
“I smell bacon,” she says, sing-song in her tone, as she makes her way toward the kitchen.
She hums a soft, noncommittal noise and nods a little. She still doesn’t remember it, not really, but it doesn’t matter. She does remember all of them piled in the living room watching tv together. This living room feels fairly empty in comparison, though.
For a few minutes, she just sits there with him and watches the tv show she is not actually paying attention to. Maybe if she tries hard enough, it could feel more like it did in Ohio. Maybe Mom and Natasha are just simply… picking up things for dinner at the store. It was easier for Melina to take their oldest daughter for things like that, let Alexei wrangle the little one for a little bit, instead.
But she can’t lie that well to herself; Natasha is gone. Melina is… wherever she is these days. It’s just the two of them on a couch in a messy flat, alone.
She shifts until she’s pressed against her father’s side, pushing until he takes the hint to loop his arm around her shoulders so she can hide her face against him. Hot tears well up in her eyes and spill against his shirt, but she doesn’t sob, she doesn’t make a sound at all. And maybe that makes it all the worse.
For a few minutes, she just sits there with him and watches the tv show she is not actually paying attention to. Maybe if she tries hard enough, it could feel more like it did in Ohio. Maybe Mom and Natasha are just simply… picking up things for dinner at the store. It was easier for Melina to take their oldest daughter for things like that, let Alexei wrangle the little one for a little bit, instead.
But she can’t lie that well to herself; Natasha is gone. Melina is… wherever she is these days. It’s just the two of them on a couch in a messy flat, alone.
She shifts until she’s pressed against her father’s side, pushing until he takes the hint to loop his arm around her shoulders so she can hide her face against him. Hot tears well up in her eyes and spill against his shirt, but she doesn’t sob, she doesn’t make a sound at all. And maybe that makes it all the worse.
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