#so im going something sparks my creativity again

[padfootastic]

friends, it’s here. a fic i’ve wanted to write for a long time and which has gone through some ups and downs. it’s jily & qpp prongsfoot, social media au. fun, lighthearted, completely uncomplicated. a little incomplete for my tastes but needed to be finished lest it never leave my drafts. big thank u to ash for acting as a sounding board on this (even if my pea brain decided to do it’s own thing in the end)

x

One man - James Potter.

Two wives - Lily Potter & Sirius Black.

Who’ll win?

-

Youtube channel Godric’s Hollow is hosting a Wife Wars to decide once and for all who takes the spot of James’ premier wife.

Lily Evans is competitive, ruthless, and here to stay. She also has the advantage of having a ring on her finger.

Sirius Black is calm & confident. He knows he’s got this in the bag—there’s no other option, of course.

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object? The one in the middle gets squished. (Happily)

[natsaffection]

Im glad i’m not the only one who saw 4ngel1v’s ai pics!! It just brewed up another idea! I told you it would be soon.

Think about Gp Nat as a beefy bodyguard and reader is like a famous singer or actor🤷‍♀️. And they didn’t meet on great terms, but reader ends up hiring nat and whatever it was between them grew. But thing is that they couldn't distinguish their tension from hate. One thing that reader could distinguish though, was Nats jealousy. SO LIKE A YKYK ENEMIES TO LOVERS BUT RLLY SLOW PROCESS TO LOVERS n smuttyy🤭

“What’s with the attitude, you weren’t as grumpy earlier?”

“Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha”

“You’re giving me a handjob at YOUR premiere. We’re thinking of two different versions of risky.”

-💋

I'm not going anywhere. | N.R

Bodyguard!Natasha x Younger!Actress!Reader

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! G!P Natasha, Age gap ( R is 22 and Nat is 32) Inappropriate behavior, so much teasing, kinda handjob, begging, rough sex, pet names, angst

Word Count: 9,5k

A/N: Okay, when this is posted I'll be driving 200 km/h on the highway for the next 36 hours. So I hope everything works out, because I don't have the chance to reply right now 🫶🏼🥸

Thank you my lovely anon, you served again 🌚 I really enjoyed writing this, even though I was very carried away

You were born and raised in a small, picturesque town in the heart of the countryside. Your parents, both teachers, instilled a love of learning and creativity in you from an early age. Your mother, an English teacher, often read you classic literature at bedtime, sparking a lifelong passion for storytelling. Your father, a drama teacher, introduced you to the world of theater and encouraged you to participate in school plays and local theater productions.

As a child, you were curious and imaginative, often inventing elaborate stories and characters in your head. You were very popular in your community for your kind heart and lively personality. Despite your small-town upbringing, you always dreamed of something bigger and longed for the excitement and opportunities that lay beyond the boundaries of your hometown.

At 16, your life took a decisive turn when you attended a summer acting camp. The camp was located in a bustling city, a stark contrast to your quiet hometown. There, you met aspiring actors, directors, and producers and for the first time, felt like you belonged. Your talent was quickly recognized by the camp leaders, who encouraged you to pursue a career in acting.

Upon returning home, you were more determined than ever to follow your dreams. You participated in every theater production you could to hone your craft and build a portfolio of diverse roles. Your parents, though initially concerned about the uncertainty of an acting career, wholeheartedly supported you and believed in your talent and dedication.

At 18, you moved to Los Angeles, the hub of the entertainment industry. The transition was daunting, you were a small-town girl in a sprawling, fast-paced city. You faced numerous rejections and challenges, working several part-time jobs to make ends meet while attending auditions and acting classes.

Your perseverance paid off when you landed a small role in an independent film. Though the role was minor, your performance caught the attention of a prominent casting director. Impressed by your natural talent and screen presence, the director recommended you for an audition for an upcoming blockbuster film from a major studio.

Nervous but excited, you gave your best at the audition. Weeks later, you received the life-changing news: you were cast in the lead role of the blockbuster film. The film was a huge success and catapulted you into the spotlight, making you an overnight sensation.

The sudden fame was overwhelming. You went from an anonymous aspiring actress to a celebrity constantly in the public eye. Paparazzi followed your every move, tabloids speculated about your private life, and fans demanded autographs and selfies everywhere you went. Although you were grateful for your success and the opportunities it brought, the lack of privacy and constant scrutiny were challenging.

Despite the challenges, you remained grounded, thanks to the support of your family and close friends. You continued to focus on your craft, taking on diverse roles to prove your versatility as an actress. You also used your platform to advocate for causes you believed in, earning you respect and admiration beyond your acting abilities

You are known for your down-to-earth personality and genuine kindness. You cherish your close circle of friends and often retreat to your hometown to escape the pressures of Hollywood and reconnect with your roots. Your parents remain your biggest supporters, proud of your achievements but always reminding you of the values they instilled in you.

In your free time, you enjoy reading, painting, and exploring new hobbies. You are a passionate traveler and find inspiration in the various cultures and stories you encounter. Despite your fame, you strive to lead a relatively normal life and appreciate the simple pleasures that keep you grounded.

4 years later.

The evening of the premiere was a whirlwind of flashing cameras, excited fans, and palpable excitement in the air. You, dressed in a stunning gown that perfectly captured your rising star status, had just finished a series of red carpet interviews. You felt a mix of excitement and nerves; this night was special not only because of the premiere of your new film but also because you were nominated for an award for another project. It could be the night you finally take home the coveted trophy.

As the event continued, you felt the familiar but inconvenient need to use the restroom. The premiere was in full swing, and you needed to be on stage soon. You made your way through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking on the polished marble floor of the grand theater.

Finally, you spotted the restroom sign and quickened your pace. But as you reached the door, you encountered an imposing figure: a tall, striking woman with piercing eyes and an aura of authority. Dressed in black, the woman stood guard in front of the restroom door, her stance rigid and alert.

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," you said, trying to maintain your polite demeanor despite the urgency of your situation.

The woman, whom you would later learn was Natasha Romanoff, did not move. "The restroom is occupied." Natasha replied sharply and unyieldingly. "Okay, surely there is a second stall..." you pleaded, glancing at the closed door behind Natasha.

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "You'll wait.“ Your patience was running thin. You were a rising star and not used to being dismissed so abruptly. "Come on, I need to go, please. This is really important."

Natasha's expression remained unmoved, her voice cold and professional. "I don't care where you need to go. My instruction is to ensure no one enters until it's clear. Now step back."

Frustration boiled within you. You couldn't believe this woman didn't recognize you, given the number of posters and billboards plastered with your face. "Listen, I understand you have a job to do, but so do I. And if I can't use the restroom right now, there will be a disaster."

Natasha smiled and leaned in slightly, "Then you'll have to hold it, sweetheart."

You were taken aback by the dismissive tone. You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could say anything, the door behind Natasha opened, and another actress emerged, thanking Natasha for her vigilance. The actress’s eyes widened when she saw you.

"Oh my God, Y/N! Congratulations on the nomination, I loved your performance in the last film.“ the women gushed, clearly impressed. You forced a smile, still simmering with frustration. "Thank you. I'd love to chat, but I really need to use the restroom." The women looked at Natasha with a mix of surprise and something different. "Did you talked to her?“

Natasha's gaze remained unwavering and ignoring the question of the Women. „The restroom is free now." she said, stepping aside without acknowledging the women’s comment. You didn't waste a second and hurried past Natasha with a grateful nod. Inside the restroom, you took a moment to breathe, still fuming from the encounter but also somehow fascinated by the unyielding bodyguard.

When you emerged a few minutes later, you felt much calmer. Natasha was still there, like a sentinel. You couldn't help but feel a sense of challenge. You weren't used to being treated like an ordinary person, and part of you found Natasha's attitude both infuriating and refreshing. Without a word, you walked past Natasha, not giving her a second glance. As you walked away, you heard Natasha call after you: "Next time, plan better."

Your cheeks flushed with anger. You clenched your fists and kept walking, refusing to give Natasha the satisfaction of a response. The audacity of this woman! You couldn't believe how rude and dismissive she had been.

The energy in the grand theater was electric. The audience buzzed with excitement as the prestigious awards ceremony reached its climax. You, still feeling the irritation from the encounter with Natasha, took a deep breath as you awaited the announcement of the award. The presenter, a well-known acting veteran, took the stage and held the envelope containing the winner's name. "And the award for Best Actress goes to..." He paused for dramatic effect, letting the suspense build. "Y/N L/N!"

The room erupted in applause and cheers. Your heart raced as you stood up, your initial frustration forgotten in the wave of exhilaration. You moved gracefully to the stage, your gown sparkling under the bright lights. As you accepted the trophy, you couldn't help but smile at the outpouring of admiration and support from your peers and fans.

With the trophy in hand, you took a moment to collect your thoughts before beginning your speech. "Wow, this is incredible. I can hardly believe I'm standing here holding this award. First, I want to thank the cast and crew who made this film possible. You are all amazing, and I couldn't have done this without you."

As you continued your speech, your eyes wandered over the crowd, taking in the sea of faces. Then you saw her. Natasha. Despite the distance, Natasha's piercing gaze was unmistakable. Your smile faltered for a brief moment, but you quickly recovered. Natasha watched you intently, a slight smile on her lips. When your eyes met, Natasha winked.

The gesture, small but significant, sent a wave of annoyance through you. You could feel your cheeks heat up, not from embarrassment, but from the irritating coolness of the woman who had previously dismissed you so rudely. You continued your speech, trying to ignore the irritation under your calm facade.

"...And finally, I want to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support. You believed in me, even when I didn't believe in myself. This award belongs to you as much as it does to me. Thank you all." With a final wave, you stepped off the stage, your mind racing. The applause followed you, but your thoughts were fixated on Natasha. It was infuriating.

Backstage, you were surrounded by well-wishers and photographers, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Natasha. You couldn't shake the feeling that your paths would cross again in a significant way..

A few days after the awards ceremony, your agent called you with concerning news. "Y/N, we need to talk about your safety for your tour. There have been some..incidents." You frowned, recalling the increasing number of intrusive paparazzi and overly enthusiastic fans. "What kind of incidents?"

"Threatening letters, suspicious individuals trying to get close to you. It's getting serious, and we think it's time for you to consider a professional bodyguard." You sighed. The idea of having a bodyguard felt like a double-edged sword. You valued your privacy, but recent events had made you feel vulnerable. "Alright, who do you have in mind?"

Your agent hesitated for a moment. "There's someone highly recommended, but she has a... unique style. Natasha Romanoff.“ Your eyes widened. "You must be joking."

"No? She's one of the best in the field. Her methods are unconventional, but she gets results. Given the current situation, I think she's the right person for the job, plus she’s available now.“ Your mind raced back to the Gala night, the unyielding stance, the cold demeanor, and that infuriating wink. But if Natasha was as good as they said, it might be worth a try. Reluctantly, you agreed.

The next morning, Natasha arrived punctually at the agreed time at your residence. Dressed in her usual black, she looked every bit the seasoned professional. You opened the door, your expression a mix of annoyance and curiosity. "So, we meet again." Natasha nodded, her face impassive. "Hello, sweetheart. Patience today?"

You crossed your arms and stood firm. "Just so we're clear, I don't need you to treat me like a child. I can take care of myself." Natasha's lips twitched into a barely perceptible smile. "Noted. But my job is to protect you, even if you don't like my methods." You felt a flicker of the same irritation you had experienced at the Gala. This was going to be an interesting arrangement, to say the least.

A few weeks after the charity gala, you attended a book signing event for one of your favorite authors. The bookstore was packed with fans and media, all eager to catch a glimpse of the rising star. Natasha, as always, was nearby, scanning the crowd for potential threats.

As you chatted with fans and signed autographs, you felt a growing unease. One particular fan, a middle-aged man, lingered closer than seemed appropriate. His intense gaze and the way he approached you made you uncomfortable.

"Hello, can I take a photo with you?" the man asked, his voice overly eager. You forced a polite smile. "Of course," you said, posing for a quick photo. As you tried to move on to the next fan, the man grabbed your arm.

"Wait, you looked so good in the last movie... your style and all..." he said, tightening his grip. Your smile faded, and you tried to pull your arm back. "Please let go."

The man's grip only tightened, and he began reaching into his pocket. Before you could react, Natasha stepped in. She moved with lightning speed, prying the man's hand off your arm and positioning herself between you.

"Step back." Natasha ordered, her voice cold and commanding. The man looked startled but did not move. "I just wanted to give her something!"

Natasha remained unmoved. "I said step back. Now." The intensity in Natasha's eyes and the firmness of her voice finally got through to the man. He stepped back and disappeared into the crowd. Your heart was racing, but you felt a wave of gratitude toward Natasha. "Thank you.." you said, your voice shaking. Natasha nodded, her eyes still scanning the crowd. "Time to go."

At home, you couldn't shake off the day's events. You sat on the couch, replaying the encounter in your mind. Natasha stood nearby, her stance as rigid as ever. "Are you okay?" Natasha asked, her voice softer than usual You nodded. "Yes, just... a bit shaken." Natasha sat across from you, her expression unreadable. "You handled it well. But you need to be more aware of your surroundings. Fans can be unpredictable." You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. "I know. I just didn't expect that."

"That's why I'm here," Natasha said, her tone firm but not unkind. "To expect the unexpected and keep you safe." You looked at Natasha, seeing her in a new light. Despite the rocky start, you realized how much you had come to rely on Natasha's presence. "I appreciate it.“

Natasha gave a crooked smile, a rare expression on her otherwise stoic face. "Just doing my job, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a small smile. "You're impossible, you know that?" Natasha's smile widened. "And you're stubborn. I think we make a good team."

In the following weeks, your relationship developed further. There were still plenty of tensions and your share of arguments, but a mutual respect began to grow. Natasha's relentless professionalism and your determination to live your life on your own terms created a dynamic that was both challenging and oddly comforting.

One evening, as you were preparing for another public appearance and saw the crowds you had to move through, you stood closer to Natasha, her presence calming you. Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips forming a teasing smile. "Careful, princess, it almost looks like you actually like me." You laughed and shook your head. "Don't push it, Romanoff. But, since you're here..." Natasha's smile softened a bit. "Anytime."

Despite the nicknames and teasing, there was an unspoken understanding between you both and you couldn't deny Natasha's skills and dedication. Natasha, for all her toughness, began to see the determination and drive behind your fame and youth that had brought you to this point. Slowly, you began to understand each other and formed an uneasy alliance.

Next up was another film premiere, where you were the guest of honor. The tension between you was palpable again, fueled by your contrasting personalities and constant proximity.

While you were getting ready, you felt Natasha's eyes on you, checking every detail. "You know, you don't have to watch me like a hawk." you said, your tone sharper than intended. Natasha leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "It's my job to watch you."

"I can take care of myself." you snapped, turning fully to face her. Natasha's eyes narrowed. "Really? Because from where I stand, you've been pretty naive about the dangers around you."

You felt stung by the implication. "Naive? Just because I'm younger doesn't mean I'm clueless. I've worked hard to get here, and I don't need you undermining me." Natasha pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer. "And I don't need you questioning my every move. You hired me to protect you, and that's what I'm doing. If you don't like my methods, find someone else."

You glared at her, frustration boiling within you. "Maybe I will! I can't stand you treating me like a burden." Natasha's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with anger. "You think I enjoy this? Looking after a spoiled little girl who doesn't appreciate what I do?"

The words hurt more than you cared to admit, and tears sprang to your eyes. "I'm definitely not spoiled! You don't know anything about me! And you know what? You are i-impossible, Natasha! I've had enough of your condescending attitude."

Natasha took a deep breath, clearly trying to rein in her temper. "Fine. Maybe I'm impossible. But at least I'm doing my job. You want to fire me? Go ahead. But don't come to me when everything falls apart."

You refused to let your tears fall. But Natasha saw them. "You're so arrogant... Do you even care about anything other than your job?" For a moment, Natasha's eyes softened, and you thought you saw a hint of regret, but it was gone in an instant. "I care about keeping you alive, even if you don't see it."

You turned away, struggling to compose yourself. "Just leave me alone for a moment." Natasha gave a curt nod and walked out, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You felt a mix of anger and guilt, knowing that despite everything, Natasha was right. The world you lived in was dangerous, and you needed someone like her to protect you.

Later that evening, you stood on the balcony of your hotel room, staring at the city lights. The day's events played over in your mind, and you felt a pang of guilt for the harsh words you'd thrown at Natasha. You heard the door open and turned to see Natasha, her expression unreadable. "Can I join you?" Natasha asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. You nodded, and Natasha stepped onto the balcony, leaning against the railing next to you.

"I'm sorry," you said after a moment of silence. "For what I said earlier. I didn't mean it." Natasha glanced at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you naive... and a little girl." You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. "It's just... this whole situation is new to me, okay? I'm not used to someone constantly having to watch over me."

"I know," Natasha said quietly. "And I'm not used to working with someone so... spirited as you. But I'm here to protect you, Y/N. Whether you like it or not." You couldn't help but laugh. "Spirited, huh? That's one way to put it." Natasha's smile widened. "You're tough, I'll give you that. But you need to trust me."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I trust you. Even if you drive me crazy sometimes." Natasha chuckled. "The feeling is mutual, princess." You rolled your eyes at the nickname but couldn't suppress a smile. "Thank you, Natasha."

"Anytime," Natasha replied, her tone sincere. She looked at you, and before you could think too much about it, you turned and impulsively kissed Natasha on the lips. Natasha stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss, her lips moving confidently against yours.

Your heart raced as you kissed Natasha, a surprising warmth flooding through you. As you pulled back slightly, you felt something firm press against your hip. Your eyes widened in surprise as you realized what it was. Natasha smirked, clearly noticing your reaction.

"Surprised?" Natasha asked, her voice deep and teasing. You nodded, still a bit stunned. "A little. I didn't see that coming.“ Natasha's smirk widened, a hint of pride in her eyes. "Well, I'm full of surprises."

You felt a blush creep over your cheeks, but you couldn't help but joke to cover your own nervousness. "Didn't know bodyguards got excited so easily." Natasha's eyes darkened with something more than just amusement. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. "Only when it's worth it."

Your breath caught as Natasha's hand lightly traced over your back, sending shivers down your spine. Natasha's presence was overwhelming, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest. Natasha leaned over you slightly, her lips brushing your ear. "You're playing a dangerous game, princess," she murmured, her voice husky with desire.

Your cheeks burned, and you felt a wave of excitement that both thrilled and embarrassed you. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Natasha straightened up, an amused glint in her eyes as she stepped back. "Get some rest," Natasha said, her voice returning to its usual calm tone. "You have a big day tomorrow."

With that, Natasha turned and walked back into the hotel room, leaving you standing on the balcony, your mind racing and your body buzzing with emotions. As you stood there, the cool night air brushing your skin, you knew that things between you and Natasha would never be the same again. When you lay down that night, replaying the memory of the kiss and Natasha's teasing words, you couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with excitement and curiosity about what the future would bring.

Your schedule had become a whirlwind of appearances, interviews, and fan interactions as you toured to promote your latest film. Everywhere you went, enthusiastic fans awaited you, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Natasha was always close by.

One afternoon, you were at a signing event in a busy city. The line of fans stretched around the block, and you took time with each person, chatting and taking photos. However, Natasha noticed a pattern: you were livelier and smiled brighter when interacting with your female fans. It was something you did unconsciously, but Natasha picked up on it.

During a break, Natasha couldn't resist commenting. "You really come alive around the ladies, don't you, princess?" she said, her tone teasing but with a hint of something else. You raised an eyebrow, noting the subtle undertone in Natasha's voice. "What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha shrugged, a smirking smile on her lips. "Just an observation. You seem to enjoy their company more."

You felt a spark of defiance. Remembering the balcony scene and Natasha's teasing nature, you decided to push it further. If Natasha wanted to tease you, you'd give her a taste of her own medicine. "Maybe I do," you said, your tone playful. "Is that a problem?" Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly, but she maintained her cool demeanor. "Not at all. Just interesting to watch."

You decided to take it up a notch. For the rest of the event, you made an extra effort to be even more attentive with your female fans. You laughed louder, leaned in closer for photos, and gave their conversations more attention. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Natasha watching, her jaw tensing slightly.

You found it immensely amusing. You liked seeing the usually unflappable Natasha show a bit of emotion, especially jealousy. It gave you a sense of power in your otherwise tense dynamic.

Later that evening, you returned to the hotel. You were in high spirits, still buoyed by the interactions of the day and the success of your plan to annoy Natasha. As you entered the hotel suite, Natasha finally spoke. "You really enjoyed today, didn't you?“ You turned to her, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, I did. It was a lot of fun. Especially to see how you lose your composure"

Natasha's eyes flashed with a mix of frustration and something deeper. "My composure? I have not lost my composure." You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a teasing whisper. "Sure looked like it to me." Natasha's gaze hardened, but there was no denying the hint of jealousy there. "Careful, Y/N."

You felt a thrill at the challenge in Natasha's voice. "Nope." Natasha stepped closer, the tension between you crackling like electricity. "You're testing my patience." You smiled, enjoying the power you held in this moment. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire, and she stepped closer, her body only inches from yours. "Do you really want to know?" Your heart pounded in your chest, the air between you thick with tension. "Maybe I do.“ Natasha leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Don't forget who you're playing with, princess. I don't give in easily."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you refused to back down. "Good. Neither do I." Natasha's smile widened, and for a moment, you thought she would kiss you again. But when Natasha turned and walked away, you couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and excitement. You had pushed Natasha's buttons and gotten a reaction, but you knew that this game you were playing was far from over.

In the following days, you continued to tease Natasha, finding new ways to provoke her jealousy. You found it incredibly amusing to see the normally composed bodyguard show signs of possessiveness. And despite the tension, there was an undeniable thrill in your interactions. Natasha seemed to enjoy the challenge as well. She never backed down and always met your provocations with her own brand of teasing and intensity. Your relationship was a constant back-and-forth, filled with playful banter and underlying desire.

The evening of the final premiere had arrived, and you were in your hotel suite, getting ready for the event. Your hair and makeup team were putting the finishing touches on your look, ensuring every detail was perfect. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, the shimmering fabric catching the light beautifully. You looked every bit the star you were, ready to captivate the crowd and cameras.

As you admired your reflection in the mirror, the door to your suite opened. Natasha walked in, looking as composed and confident as ever. She wore her usual black ensemble but had her jacket casually slung over her shoulder, and her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a hint of her toned chest. The sight made your heart skip a beat, and you hated yourself for finding Natasha so attractive.

Natasha's eyes scanned over you appreciatively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, don't you look like a million dollars tonight." You rolled your eyes and tried to hide your blush. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Natasha chuckled and stepped closer. "You really know how to turn heads, princess. Try not to cause too many heart attacks out there." You felt a mix of irritation and something warmer, more exciting. "I'll do my best." you said, your tone half teasing, half serious. Natasha's smile widened. "Remember, I'm here to protect you. Can't have you distracting me too much." You laughed and shook your head. "I'll try not to be too much of a distraction."

Natasha's gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before she nodded. "Good. Ready to go?" You took a deep breath and cast one last look in the mirror. "Ready."

The red carpet was a flurry of activity, with flashing cameras and cheering fans. You moved gracefully through the crowd, stopping for interviews and photos. Natasha was always nearby, her eyes scanning the surroundings for potential threats. Despite the busy environment, your mind was elsewhere. You had been thinking about the ongoing game with Natasha, the back-and-forth of your interactions, and the growing tension between you. Tonight, you decided, you would take it a step further.

As you entered the theater for the premiere, you could feel the electricity in the air. You excused yourself from the group of people you were with and moved to a quieter part of the lobby. Natasha followed you, her vigilant eyes missing nothing. "Everything okay?" Natasha asked, her tone professional but with a hint of curiosity. You turned to her, a playful glint in your eyes. "Oh, I just needed a moment. It's so hectic out there."

Natasha nodded, her stance relaxed but alert. "You should have thought of that before." You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing Natasha's arm. "You weren't so grumpy earlier. What's with the attitude now?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. "I'm not grumpy. I'm just doing my job." You smiled, your hand sliding down to Natasha's waist, your fingers tracing the edge of her pants. “Loosen up a little, it’s fine to be a risky once in a while, Natasha.”

Natasha's eyes darkened with desire as she realized your intentions. "You're giving me a handjob at your premiere. We're thinking of two different versions of risk." You leaned in, your breath warm against Natasha's ear. "Maybe I like my version better." Your hand moved bolder, stroking over the bulge in Natasha's pants. Natasha gasped, but quickly placed her hand over yours to stop your movements. Her grip was firm, and a smirking smile played on her lips as she leaned closer, her voice a soft, seductive whisper.

"You think you're clever, don't you?" Natasha murmured, her breath hot against your ear. "If you keep this up, I'll have you on your knees, begging for more. I'll fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." Your heart raced at Natasha's words, a shiver running down your spine. You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness, your breath hitching.

Natasha stepped back slightly, her eyes meeting yours. "You have no idea what you're getting into, princess." You tried to regain your composure. "Then show me." Natasha's smile turned dangerous and seductive. "Not here. Not now."

Your heart raced, your mind buzzing with anticipation. You stepped back slightly, your eyes meeting Natasha's. "When then?" Natasha's smile was dangerous and seductive. "You'll see." You felt a thrill run through you. You had challenged Natasha, and now you were ready for whatever came next. As you returned to the premiere, the tension between you was palpable, an unspoken promise of things to come.

The premiere went smoothly, but your and Natasha's thoughts were elsewhere. The silent promise you had exchanged hung between you, intensifying every glance, every touch. As the event came to an end, you felt both excited and nervous about what would happen next. Natasha's presence, as always, was a calming force, but now it was charged with a new kind of tension.

As you finally returned to the hotel, you couldn't resist teasing Natasha one last time. "So, what's next, bodyguard? Do you still think I'm playing a dangerous game?" Natasha's eyes were dark with promise as she stepped closer. "Oh, princess, the game has only just begun." You felt a shiver of excitement. "Good. I wouldn't want it any other way."

You turned to head to your room, thinking you had the upper hand. But before you could take more than a few steps, Natasha grabbed your arm and effortlessly swung you over her shoulder. You gasped in surprise as Natasha carried you into the bedroom.

"Natasha! W-What are you doing!?" you exclaimed, your voice a mix of shock and excitement. Natasha didn't answer immediately. Instead, she gave you a quick, firm smack on your butt, making you gasp. "You wanted to play games, princess. Now it's my turn." Your heart raced as Natasha carried you into the bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. Natasha stood at the foot of the bed, removing her jacket and unbuttoning her blouse with deliberate slowness, her eyes never leaving yours.

"You've been teasing me all night," Natasha said, her voice deep and commanding. "Now it's time to show you what happens when you play with fire." You felt a wave of heat wash over you as you watched Natasha undress. You bit your lip, your breath catching in anticipation.

Natasha climbed onto the bed, her movements predatory and deliberate. She leaned over you, her hands pinning your wrists above your head as she kissed you deeply and possessively. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's. She broke the kiss, her lips brushing your ear. "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Your faces were only inches apart, and you could feel Natasha's breath on your skin. The tension between you crackled like electricity, a mix of anger and desire. Your teasing had always been a game to provoke Natasha, but now, faced with the intensity of Natasha's gaze, you realized how far you had pushed her.

"You drive me crazy, Y/N," Natasha whispered, her voice rough. "Now it's my turn." Your heart skipped a beat, your body trembling with anticipation. "Then don't hold back, please.." you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear. "Oh, I don't plan to."

Natasha's lips crashed onto yours, the kiss fierce and demanding. You responded eagerly, your body arching into Natasha's, your skin tingling with the intensity of the moment. Natasha's hands moved purposefully, one sliding down your side, her fingertips tracing the hem of your dress before slipping underneath.

You gasped into the kiss as Natasha's fingers drew patterns on your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you. You had never experienced such a touch, so firm, so assured. It was as if Natasha knew exactly how to unravel you. "Natasha.." you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Please..." Natasha pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her gaze fierce and intense. "Oh, I like that. Please what?" she demanded, her tone commanding.

"Please... more.." you begged, your body aching for Natasha's touch. A satisfied smile spread across Natasha’s face as she obliged, her fingers finding their way to your most sensitive spots, drawing moans and gasps from you that filled the room. Your world narrowed to the sensation of Natasha's touch, your body responding with an intensity you had never known.

Natasha's hands moved expertly, teasing and pleasing you until you trembled with desire. Just as you thought you couldn't take anymore, Natasha pulled back slightly, her gaze dark and full of promise. "You're not ready for what's coming next," Natasha said, her voice deep and husky. She stood up, her movements intentionally slow, giving you a moment to catch your breath.

You watched with wide eyes as Natasha unbuckled her belt, your gaze following her every move. As Natasha's pants fell to the floor, you caught your breath. There, proud and ready, was Natasha's member. Natasha reached into her pocket and pulled out a condom, rolling it on with practiced ease.

"You were prepared," you teased, your voice breathless. "Did you know the night would end like this?" Natasha gave you a sly smile. "I had a feeling. And by the end of the night, you won't have that attitude anymore."

Your body responded to Natasha's words, a mix of excitement and anticipation coursing through you. Natasha climbed back onto the bed, positioning herself between your legs. She leaned in to capture your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body, stoking the flames of desire even higher.

As Natasha slowly entered you, you gasped at the sensation, your body arching into hers. The feeling was unlike anything you had ever experienced, a perfect blend of pleasure and connection. Natasha moved with a careful rhythm, watching your reactions to ensure every movement brought you joy. "Do you like that?" Natasha whispered, her voice deep and rough. "Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Y-Yes, oh God, yes.." you moaned, your hands clutching at Natasha's back, your nails digging into her skin as waves of pleasure washed over you. "Good," Natasha growled, increasing her pace slightly. "Because I'm not stopping until you've learned your lesson." Your breath grew heavy, your moans louder with each thrust. Natasha's lips found your neck, kissing you, making you tremble. Natasha's hand slipped between you, her fingers brushing over your clit in teasing, light touches.

"Natasha!" you gasped, your body jolting at the sudden rush of pleasure. "Please, stop..."

"Just a taste of your own medicine," Natasha murmured, her voice a husky whisper against your skin. She kept her slow, torturous rhythm, her fingers lightly dancing over your sensitive spot, driving you wild with desire. Your frustration mingled with your arousal, the teasing making you desperate. "Please, Natasha... I need more.." you begged, your voice trembling.

Natasha's smile deepened, savoring your pleading. "You need to learn that actions have consequences," she said, her pace increasing, each thrust deeper and harder. "Is this what you wanted, Y/N? To be dominated, made to beg?"

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, your body arching, seeking more. "Please, Natasha, I need you..“ Seeing your desperation, Natasha finally relented. She increased her pace, her thrusts becoming rougher, harder. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. You love being fucked like this, don't you?"

„God.." you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

"I'm not," Natasha promised, her voice rough with desire. She began slowly, her thrusts gentle and deliberate, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. Each movement was measured, designed to build the pleasure slowly. Her fingers pressed firmly against your clit, rubbing in perfect rhythm with her movements. "You feel so good," Natasha groaned, her own arousal evident in her voice. "So tight around me. I told you how it would end."

"Oh God!" you cried, your body shaking with the intensity of your pleasure. "Don't stop, please don't stop..“ Natasha's breath came heavy, her movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to take everything I give you," she growled. "And you're going to love it." Natasha's eyes burned with a mix of desire and something deeper. "Turn around," she commanded, her voice rough. "I want to take you from behind."

You complied, your body trembling with anticipation. Natasha positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips firmly. With one swift motion, Natasha entered you again, the new angle sending a fresh wave of pleasure through your body. "God, you feel so good," Natasha groaned, her pace rough and relentless. "Do you like this, Y/N? Do you like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, Natasha, y-yees.." you cried, your body pushing back against each thrust. "Harder, please, harder..“ Natasha's grunts filled the room, her movements becoming more powerful, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "Fuck, what would your fans say if they saw you like this?" she growled.

Your world was a whirl of sensations, your body burning with pleasure. "Please, please, please!" you gasped, your voice breaking with need. "Please, I'm so close.."

Natasha's hands slid to your shoulders, pulling you back with each thrust, her pace unrelenting. "I want to see your face when you come," Natasha demanded, her voice rough. You turned, your eyes meeting Natasha's intense gaze. Natasha didn't break the connection, her thrusts deep and powerful, her eyes locked on yours. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, her voice filled with raw emotion. "Come for me, Y/N. I want to see you come."

Your body obeyed, the intensity of Natasha's gaze and the power of her movements driving you over the edge. You called out Natasha's name, your body trembling with the force of your orgasm, your eyes never leaving Natasha's. She followed you, her own orgasm hitting her hard, her body tensing with the release. She held you close, your bodies entwined, the intensity of your connection overwhelming.

When it was over, Natasha collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies slick with sweat. You looked up at Natasha, your eyes shining with gratitude and something deeper. "That was... incredible," you whispered, your voice shaking. Natasha smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "You're incredible," she replied softly, her touch now tender, filled with affection.

You snuggled into Natasha's embrace, feeling safe. You had challenged Natasha, teased her, but now you understood the depth of it and the passion that lay beneath your banter. It was a night you would indeed never forget.

The next morning, the sunlight filtered gently through the curtains of your hotel room, casting a warm glow across the bed. You stirred slowly, a pleasant ache in your muscles reminding you of the intense connection you had shared with Natasha the previous night. A contented smile spread across your face as you replayed the events in your mind. The way Natasha had made you feel cherished and desired was unlike anything you had experienced before.

As you stretched lazily, you noticed Natasha already up and moving around the room, her movements efficient and purposeful as she dressed in her black uniform. Still feeling the warmth of the night, you sat up and instinctively pulled the blanket around you.

Natasha caught sight of your movement and smirked. "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I've already seen everything." You felt a blush rise to your cheeks but managed a small smile. "Force of habit, I guess." Natasha chuckled softly and walked over to the bed, sitting down beside you. She reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

You leaned into her touch, savoring the intimacy. "Good. Better than good, actually." Natasha's smile softened, and she pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Good. We've got a busy day ahead. Remember, it's the final interview for the film today." You nodded, the reality of the day settling in. "Right. The last interview." Natasha's eyes searched yours, a hint of concern flickering in them. "Are you ready for it?"

You sighed, feeling a pang of anxiety. "I think so. Just... nervous, I guess." Natasha squeezed your hand reassuringly. "You'll do great. And I'll be right there with you."

As Natasha continued getting ready, you reached for your phone on the nightstand. Unlocking it, you saw a barrage of notifications. Among the messages was one from a close friend, marked urgent. Curiosity piqued, you opened the message thread.

The message read: "Y/N, have you seen these articles? Be careful with Natasha Romanoff. She's got a reputation." Attached were several links to articles and gossip columns detailing Natasha's past relationships, her numerous one-night stands, and her professional life as a bodyguard. The headlines screamed warnings about her dangerous allure and the trail of broken hearts she had left behind.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the articles, each one chipping away at the happiness you had felt just moments before. The friend’s message continued: "I just don't want to see you get hurt. She might be good at her job, but she's also known for not sticking around."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind: "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything." What if you were just another conquest for her? The memory of her passionate words from last night seemed suddenly tainted "You belong to me tonight, princess. And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

Natasha noticed the shift in your expression and the way you had gone quiet, your eyes glued to your phone. "Y/N, is everything okay?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. You quickly locked your phone and forced a smile. "Yeah, just... some messages." But the seed of doubt had been planted. Despite your efforts to focus, the words from the articles lingered in your mind. Was last night just another notch on Natasha's belt?

As you got ready, Natasha left you alone for a moment to gather your thoughts. The anxiety gnawed at you, turning the warmth you had felt into a cold pit in your stomach.

The day passed in a blur of preparations and travel to the interview location. Your mind kept drifting back to the articles, the warnings, the doubt. By the time you arrived at the studio, the unease had settled deep within you.

When the time for the interview finally arrived, you found yourself sitting in a brightly lit studio, facing a well-known interviewer. The cameras rolled, and the interview began. You tried to concentrate, but your mind kept wandering, haunted by the headlines and Natasha's reputation. "So, Y/N, this film has been a huge success. How has the journey been for you?" You forced a smile, trying to gather your thoughts. "It's been incredible. The cast and crew were amazing, and I learned so much."

But even as you spoke, you couldn't shake the memory of Natasha's voice from last night"Do you like feeling me inside you?"

"Can you share any particularly memorable moments from the set?" You hesitated, your mind momentarily blank. "Uh, there were so many great moments. I think... the camaraderie we shared off-camera was really special."

Natasha's teasing smile from this morning flashed in your mind "You don't have to hide under the blanket, princess. I've already seen everything."

"What are your plans after this film? Any new projects in the pipeline?" You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "I'm exploring a few options, but nothing's set in stone yet."

Natasha's concern earlier replayed in your mind "Are you ready for it?" The interview continued, but your responses grew increasingly mechanical. Natasha, standing just off-camera, noticed the shift in your demeanor. Her brow furrowed with concern as she watched you, sensing something was wrong. She began to worry that she had overstepped last night, that perhaps she had pushed you too far.

When the interview finally concluded, you left the studio feeling drained and unsettled. Natasha was by your side immediately, her eyes filled with worry. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle yet urgent. "Did something happen during the interview?"

You shook your head, avoiding her gaze. "No, it's not that. I just... need some space right now." Natasha's heart clenched at your words. She followed you silently back to the hotel, the worry gnawing at her. Had she misread the signals? Had she taken things too far last night? The thought of having hurt you in any way made her feel sick.

Back in the hotel room, you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Natasha hovered nearby, her concern evident "Y/N, please talk to me," Natasha said softly. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." You took a deep breath, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm.. scared, Natasha..“

Natasha's heart ached at the vulnerability in your voice. She stepped closer, her hand gently cupping your cheek. "Scared of what? Talk to me, please." You finally met her gaze, the tears spilling over. "I'm scared that last night... that it was just a one-time thing for you. That you only wanted me for my body."

Natasha's eyes widened in shock, and she immediately knelt in front of you, taking your hands in hers. "W-What?“ You reluctantly lifted your gaze to hers, seeing the sincerity and depth of her feelings reflected in her eyes. "Last night was not just a one-time thing for me," Natasha said firmly. "I didn't just want you for your body. You mean so much more to me than that."

You searched her eyes, your voice trembling. "But what if... what if this changes things between us? What if it's just a fling?" Natasha shook her head, her grip on your hands gentle but steady. "It won't be. Because I care about you, Y/N. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. Last night meant everything to me, and I don't want it to end there." Tears flowed freely now, and Natasha wiped them away with her thumbs, her gaze never leaving yours.

"But what about all these articles and rumors about you?" you asked, the fear and doubt still lingering in your voice. "They say you've had so many one-night stands and relationships that didn't last. How do I know I'm not just another one?" Natasha sighed deeply, her expression turning serious. "Do you remember the actress you met at the restroom at the Gala?" You nodded, recalling the striking woman who had seemed so authoritative.

"Her name is Jessica," Natasha continued. "We were in a relationship a few month ago. It was toxic and manipulative. When I finally managed to leave her, she was furious. She threatened to ruin my reputation if I ever left her." Natasha pulled out her phone and showed you a message thread. "Here, look at this." She scrolled to a particular message and handed you the phone. The message read:

"If you leave, I will destroy your life, your reputation, everything, Natasha. No one will ever trust you again."

You felt a chill run down your spine as you read the words. Natasha's voice was steady but filled with pain. "She's the one who started those rumors and spread the articles. I'm already taking legal action against her, but these things take time."

You looked up at Natasha, seeing the sincerity and anguish in her eyes. "I had no idea..." Natasha cupped your face gently. "I would never use you, Y/N. What we have is real, and I want to protect it. Protect you. Please believe me."

You searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in her words. "But how can I be sure?" Natasha's grip on your hands tightened, her gaze unwavering. "Because I'm standing here, telling you this. I'm not going anywhere, Y/N. I want to be with you, not just for a night, but for as long as you'll have me."

You felt a flood of relief and emotion wash over you. "I want that too, Natasha. I just... I needed to know." Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "You don't have to be afraid. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere." You clung to her, feeling the warmth and strength of her presence. The fear and doubt that had plagued you melted away in the face of Natasha's unwavering support.

As the day continued, you felt a renewed sense of connection and understanding with Natasha. The bond between you had deepened, forged through honesty and vulnerability. With the whirlwind of your film promotion tour finally over, you felt a mix of relief and excitement as you arrived back at your home. For the first time in months, you had some well-deserved time off. Natasha, your steadfast bodyguard, was right by your side as you walked through the front door of your cozy house.

"Home sweet home.." you sighed, dropping your bags and stretching your arms. The familiar surroundings brought a sense of peace that you had missed during your hectic schedule.

Natasha smiled, leaning against the doorway. "It's nice to see you relax." You turned to her, a question lingering in your mind. "So, what happens now? Do you move on to another client with a tour or something?" Natasha raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "Actually, I took some time off too."

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Really? You took time off to stay here?" Natasha nodded, stepping closer. "Yes, I wanted to spend more time with you. I meant what I said a few days ago, Y/N."

A wave of warmth and happiness washed over you. "You really do care," you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. Natasha cupped your face gently, her eyes soft and sincere. "I care a lot, and I want to make the most of this time we have together."

The next few days were blissful. You and Natasha spent time just enjoying each other's company, something you hadn't been able to do during the tour. The bond between you grew stronger, built on trust and genuine affection. One lazy afternoon, as you lounged on the couch together, you started discussing potential vacation destinations. "We should go somewhere special," you suggested, scrolling through various travel websites on your laptop. "How about a trip to a secluded beach resort? Just the two of us."

Natasha leaned in, looking at the screen. "That sounds perfect." You found a beautiful resort that offered private bungalows by the ocean and various activities for couples. "This one looks amazing," you said excitedly. "Let me book it."

Before you could click the "book now" button, the doorbell rings, "Food is here!" You sprint over and meanwhile Natasha took the laptop and made the booking. When you come back with two pizza boxes, you pouted playfully. "Hey! I wanted to pay for it!“ Natasha chuckled, pulling you into her arms. "I know, but I wanted to do this for us." You gave her a mock glare. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Natasha silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and tender against yours. "Shush," she whispered against your lips. "Let me take care of you for once." You melted into her embrace, feeling the love and care she poured into every touch and kiss. "Okay," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. "I guess I can let you spoil me this time."

The anticipation of your upcoming trip added an extra layer of excitement to your days. You spent your time planning activities and daydreaming about the sun, sand, and sea. The more you got to know Natasha in this relaxed setting, the more you realized how deeply you felt for her. As the departure date for your vacation approached, you and Natasha packed your bags with a mix of excitement and eagerness. The thought of being in a beautiful, secluded place with her made your heart race.

Finally, the day arrived, and you both boarded the plane to your dream destination. The flight was smooth, filled with laughter and light conversations about the adventures you planned to have. Upon landing, you were greeted with warm ocean breezes and the sound of waves crashing on the shore.

Your bungalow was even more beautiful than the pictures, nestled right on the beach with a stunning view of the turquoise waters. As you stepped inside, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. "This is perfect," you sighed, looking out at the ocean from the large windows. Natasha wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "It really is. I'm glad we're here together."

You turned in her arms, looking up at her with a smile. "Me too. Thank you for everything, Natasha." She leaned down and kissed you softly. "Anything for you, Princess." The days that followed were filled with pure bliss. You and Natasha spent your time exploring the beach, swimming in the crystal-clear waters, and enjoying romantic dinners under the stars. Each moment felt like a precious gift, strengthening the bond you shared.

[nikanono]

I know I'm not active on here anymore, but I need a place to get this off my chest.

And Tumblr is where I found my creativity so I guess it fits

It has been so difficult to create anything as of recent. Ive lost so much confidence in what I do with so many shortcomings with my art. And I feel as if part of it is my fault- other parts its completely out of my hands.

Yes, Ai art and the industry tossing creatives aside hasnt been the most encouraging thing in the world. Its a good reason as to why i've been feeling not so great with creating things.

In 2022, I suffered a really bad art burnout. I didnt draw anything for a year. I started to kick it back up again in 2023. I found a lot of comfort in spending a lot of time drawing my OC's- which was far different than what I used to do- which was a shit ton of fanart. It definetely ignighted my spark and I really started to draw what I loved.

I really felt I was diving back into what I was really passionate about.

But I guess i could never escape how badly I relied on external validation for things I make. Because if I truely reflect, I've mostly drawn things for others. And I kept tellling myself that that was something I found comfort in. Getting feedback from an external source is where I grounded my validation for so many years and I really need to break out of that habit. And I'm back in a rut where I'm not finding interest or enjoyment in it anymore.

But its rough- I know OC content doesnt get much attention online, not compared to fanart at least. But seeing numbers dwindle on social def hit the brain a little to hard. I know I cant ever beat the algorithm but it still does suck a whole lot

The art burnout at the start of this year hit me so hard like a 500kg Eagle Strike. I can tell that im forcing any art that I put out. But I look at the recent stuff i make, wether it be a sketch or an illustration, and just feel so disheartened. I dont hate it, I dont critique it- I just feel disheartned by it.

And I know its affecting other parts in my life. Im a lot more moody and irritable, and I have this lingering worry that its starting to affect my social circles. I do my best to check in with my friends and partner but anxiety really just isnt kind at times.

I know time is going to be my friend in overcoming burnout- I know I've overworked myself. I just hate how I'm starting to resent the things I was so passionate about.

But really, I needed to get this off my chest somewhere.

Thanks for hanging friends

[toasterdrake]

aaaaa ok i really hope im not bothering you bc i'm requesting two times in a row, but can i have another yelena oneshot with some hurt/comfort? maybe r gets a life-threatening injury and yel mother-hens r back to health? if that's too specific you can do whatever you want for the 'hurt' part of hurt/comfort

my friend, the day has finally arrived. this beast has sat in my drafts for many many months -- years, even, i think? -- and i have finally accepted i'm never going to finish it. i went suuuper off-script so i've condensed it into just this block before things go haywire. other than that, this is entirely unedited as i last left it, notes and gaps and all. i hope the rest of it (of which there is too much) never again sees the light of day.

if i can even say this any more, enjoy. with this, my time in the mcu fandom truly comes to an end.

Angel

Yelena Belova x Avenger!reader

word count: 4K

Engine malfunction, systems failure, hull compromised, oxygen leakage, proximity alert, eject failure -- every alarm blared impossibly loud in the tiny cockpit, barely audible over the rushing vacuum of wind. 

A stream of creative curses spilled from your mouth as your fingers flew across the sparking dashboard, trying desperately to make something, anything work as your jet's descent steepened, plummeting through low-lying clouds.

Coming up with no other option than to try to limp to a nearby island, you yanked the control stick as hard as you could, bracing your legs as you strained with all your might to pull the plane out of its nosedive. 

You fought gravity itself: your arms feeling as if they were about to be ripped from their sockets. You were trying to lift tonnes of metal with one human's strength alone.

You let out a patriotic scream, blood pumping gloriously. Your cry to the heavens was drowned in the violent wind, the strain of the wings in the wrenching of your shoulders.

Alas, the jet wobbled and shook, breathing black smoke.

The cockpit was beginning to feel like a furnace due to the engine fire below. You were burning up in your heavy aviator's gear despite the cracked canopy's icy flood of air. Your breath came in short pants, crackling in your mask, and the broken radio screamed in your ears.

Land -- no, you'd failed, water -- rushed up to meet you. From the cockpit's window, the lake was a giant gaping blue maw opening wider to swallow you whole. And it would; given the chance, the slightest wavering of will.

Not one to simply accept fate, you struggled out of your buckles and into an emergency parachute, fingers shaking as they worked frantically in your small window of time.

The parachute cord caught on a displaced hunk of metal just as you ripped off your helmet. Masses of white fabric filled your vision. 

Senses clouded, the great boom of impact told you you'd hit water. It rebounded like astral ascension through your bones.

With the whiplash, you jerked forward, slamming into the centre console hard enough to elicit an intense ache in your chest. Your head connected with the dashboard. 

You pulled yourself upright, star-crossed for a moment, darkness clawing at the edges of your vision.

A sharp pain blossomed at your hairline; a thousand needles drove into your skull and twisted. You groaned as the dizziness sent you reeling a second later.

Something hot and wet and dark dripped down your forehead. You wiped it from your stinging eyes. You didn't have time for this. Through dancing stars, the jet was sinking rapidly into unfathomable depths; dragging you down with it never to be seen again.

Shaking off the disorientation, you scooped up your helmet from the floor and began attacking the glass canopy. Your movements were hindered by the limp parachute crowding what little space you had, but still the crack grew. 

Water spilled in faster, faster, sloshing around your shoulders. Finally, the entire pane collapsed into shards. You inhaled the deepest breath of air you could muster milliseconds before--

A great puff of depressurising air thrust you bodily out of the cockpit, as water flooded the jet entirely, wholly conjoining it to the lake. 

You tried to yank your rucksack free of where it was wedged, but it was stubborn and you didn't have seconds to spare. You abandoned it in favour of surging upwards.

You kicked your legs wildly, reaching above your head for filtered sunlight in a desperate bid for fresh air. The pressure in your lungs mounted and mounted.

Your heavy clothes and tired limbs weighed you down. You couldn't struggle out of the woolen aviator jacket; couldn't spare the few moments to let it drag you deeper in freefall.

Still, it was as if you had never left the jet. 

The light above didn't seem to be any closer, your progress like revving with the handbrake on. Your desperate kicks and thrusts weakened, bubbles streaming from your nose, dancing to the sky like ash as time trickled out.

It was dark. So dark. Cold. Lonely. You were thrashing. Water was filling your lungs. You were drowning. You were about to be lost to nature's most powerful force, and no one would know.

A muffled splash above echoed through the dark expanse of water. 

An angel from the surface had come to save you. 

Her form was silhouetted by dancing sunlight wings. Golden ringlets of hair splayed around her head in a halo. She swam down to you, powerful limbs propelling her down in an illusion of ease; a true display of power. 

The strength of her arms was reassuring.



Coughing and spluttering, you jolted upright. Water gushed from your mouth, spilling down your already soaked chest as you sat up. You found curious chartreuse eyes. Somehow, instinctively, you knew they belonged to the angel who saved you.

"Where are your wings?"

"What?" Her accent was dark velvet: authentic slavic, you recognised vaguely. It sent shivers down your spine as much as the chill of the water.

"Cause," A wet cough, "Cause you're an angel -- oh shit that's blood." 

"You have internal bleeding, probably," She said, smoothing back darkened blonde hair, peeling it from her shirt by the disturbance. She was just as soaked as you, as was the patch of grass you occupied.

Frothy, bright red spots of blood littered your hand. A sharp pain in your abdomen made itself present. Dizziness washed over you, but you pushed through to pull up your slick shirt and reveal a deep red discolouration on your chest. 

For some inexplicable reason, you poked it, and winced when a wave of pain crashed through the area. You blushed upon noticing her scrutinising gaze, clearing your throat. Your ribs ached in complaint.

You gratefully took the hand she offered, letting her display that strength again as she hauled you from the ground. She led you from the shore up to a cabin, which dominated what appeared to be an island.

"What's your name?" You asked.

A quiet moment of debate. "Yelena. You?"

You owed each other that much. "[Y/N]."

She hummed in recognition.

"Lie down. It'll help your blood flow more naturally," She said, tone not unkind.

You obeyed, then swallowed awkwardly around the dryness in your throat, piping up, "Could I have a drink of water?"

"Not until you've been treated," Yelena said, words accompanied by a privately playful smirk, to which you pouted. 

You drummed your fingers against your leg, looking around at what of the room you could see, as Yelena became otherwise occupied attending to her dog.

A goatskin rug had been draped over the back of a rocking chair in the corner, almost like hotel decoration. A blazer hung from a peg next to the door. A perfectly pruned arrangement of flowers sprouted from a ceramic vase shaped like a stylised duck, something that looked glittery lacing shards together. A misshapen candle's flame flickered cheerily on the windowsill.

Contrast of lived in and new. Yelena trying to make a home and not knowing how.

Yelena reentered, throwing a set of fresh, baggy clothes at you.

"So, you live here?" You said conversationally, looking out a window at the pine forest outside as you changed painstakingly slowly around his injury.

You could just make out a distant shore beyond the mist-obscured treeline, the grey lake lapping at a dark gravel beach.

Yelena stiffened. You watched out of the corner of your eye as she chewed her lip, face turned away from you. "No," She said, wary. "I'm only here to look after the island for my parents."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you, and returned to gazing outside. Maybe her parents are in hospital or something? Whatever the depth of her reason, it sounded personal. And complex. You shouldn't pry.

And you shouldn't take advantage of an innocent woman's hospitality, your conscience scolded. No choice, you rebutted.

Just then, someone knocked at the front door. Yelena shot you a look that carried a strange cocktail of warning, concern, and apprehension, before disappearing to attend to the visitor.

You weren't left alone for long. Yelena re-entered the room, biting her lip before glancing away and standing awkwardly in a corner. She was followed by a man slightly taller than her, whom you assumed was the doctor by his discoloured beige clinical coat and briefcase.

The doctor himself could have been anywhere between thirty and fifty. He introduced himself as Dr. Graham in his warbly, squeaky voice. His face was mottled by acne scars, his chin weak and bare as if it had never borne a single hair. His babyish eyes popped out of their sockets, making him look like an eternally frightened rabbit. His hairline had already climbed up his forehead, leaving only wispy fawn tuft behind his ears.

Puberty must've hit him like a plastic toy car, you mused.

Dr. Graham did his necessary medical things quickly enough, diagnosing you miraculously concussion-free. You provided an easy lie about falling down the stairs when moving boxes, which the doctor accepted with a degree of coldness and Yelena listened to with something like caution in her eyes.

"You need four weeks of bedrest," Dr. Graham sternly gave his departing orders, crossing his arms over his chest in tepid persistence.

"But--"

"No buts."

"But--" Yelena tried.

"No. Buts. Good day to you." He stressed, glaring at each of you -- the effect somewhat disheartened by his buggish eyes -- before striding out the door.

"We'll see if your hairline lasts four weeks," You grumbled darkly. Yelena snickered at that, which drew your attention to her. 

"So."

"So," Yelena prompted when you trailed off, looking at you quizzically.

"So, is it okay for me to stay with you that long? I can't exactly go anywhere else; the jet had all my money and cards in it." The bandages wrapped around your chest flexed uncomfortably with stretching muscle.

Well, Tony's cards.

"Sure, why not. I don't plan on going anywhere for a while," There it was again; that cautious reservedness showing itself to maintain the simmering distance between you. "I will need to pick up some groceries from town though. Will you be alright here with Fanny?" Yelena said, moving to the doorway again.

"We're on one of the Thousand Islands, right? How does an entire town fit? I mean I can understand a doctor, but--"

Yelena rolled her eyes. "The town is on the mainland. I'll be taking my boat, Paučók." She said, a hint of motherly pride slipping through at that. "Also, the doctor used his own boat. We're alone on this island."

"Oh," Heat rose to your cheeks.

She rolled her eyes again and strode away. An unmistakable bulge in her pocket caught your eye. Your mood darkened. Maybe her parents aren't in hospital after all.

With that fun revelation, you decided to do some harmless snooping once Yelena was out of sight. The front door clicked shut, the lock twisting with anxious finality.

Pulling yourself off the chair, you leaned against the wall, riding out an immobilising wave of pain for a few long moments, your eyes squeezed shut and teeth gritted. A little internal bleeding wouldn't stop you!

Fanny fretted at your heels, seemingly unperturbed by your being a stranger. You petted her reassuringly, and she scampered off down the hallway, leaving you to trail behind her at a snail's pace.

Y comes back, confesses past nervously, R guilty, reveals snooping, Y angry, trust lost, R works to apologise and reopens wound



A week later, Dr. Graham called requesting you go to the clinic for a check-up. You took the call since Yelena was in the boat shelter doing maintenance on Paučók. Because you had started a streak of regaining trust, you decided you would obey the doctor. Just this once. 

You didn't like pissing people off, contrary to popular belief -- it was messy to fix and sent you completely out of your depth -- even if it was endlessly amusing to annoy the doctor. Besides, Yelena would give you an earful if you hurt yourself again.

Heading out to find the aforementioned Russian and inform her, you took a plated stack of the pancakes you'd made, just in case she hadn't eaten yet. She'd been up and gone by the time you got moving, just dumping a used coffee cup in the sink as you appeared in the kitchen.

Walking through the bracing early morning mist, you got the sensation it wasn't going to shift for the rest of the day. The icy vapour stung your cheeks and whipped you into full vigilance: a hard slap from Mother Nature. You pulled your aviator's jacket tighter over your shoulders.

Stepping into the boat shelter, you went unnoticed by Yelena. This was strange, considering that in the time you'd known each other she'd always seemed to have a sixth sense for detecting your presence before you'd even walked through the door.

The cause of her distraction was soon revealed, as the whirring of machinery permeated the workshop.

Oh shit. Okay. She's ripped. Damn. Okay. Cool. Okay. Okay. Take a deep breath. One, two, three, release. Okay. Now use your words.

"I-I brought you, um, cakespan -- no, uhm -- pancakes!"

...What?!

You cringed.

(Gae muscle panic)

The doctor's clinic was, for whatever reason, not located on the mainland. Instead, it inhabited one of the larger islands alongside a few other residences -- enough to form a hamlet -- that sat just a few hundred metres into the lake, near the main feeding river's mouth. The clinic itself was a converted gothic mansion, all arching stone masonry and high, gilded ceilings that made rooms echo eerily.

The place wasn't busy; you were seen after just a few minutes, the only other patient being a pregnant woman accompanied by her wife. Yelena trailed after you into the examination room, stuck on the boundary of limiting your association and keeping you in her sights at all times.

You exchanged an apprehensive look upon noticing an unfamiliar boat moored to the island's jetty.

Yelena pulled in quietly, killing the engine and letting Paučók drift into place on the current. You both stepped out onto the platform, gaze locked on the stagnant house through sentinel trees. Its dark windows gazed back steadily with quiet amusement. 

Yelena bent to secure Paučók's ropes. She reached into her pocket and handed you a loaded semi-automatic handgun, as well as drawing a revolver for herself.

You handled the handgun with familiarity. "God, how many guns do you have on you?"

"Enough to be prepared."

Together, you crept up the beaten dirt track to the house, guns poised to react. The building waited for you patiently.

A bird swooped low over your heads, flapping hurriedly to ascend. You and Yelena startled at the abrupt action. The desperation in its wake left a strange, almost oppressive tension heavy in the crowding mist. 

In the next moment, it was dispelled like a river bursting as Fanny came sprinting after the bird through the trees, barking freely. She skidded to a halt at Yelena's feet, who quickly bent to attend to her dog. She slipped Fanny a treat and ruffled her thick coat, speaking to her as if she could answer.

"What happened, Fan? What are you doing out of the house, huh?" Yelena cooed. Fanny panted happily in response.

"Fanny!" A new voice called jovially through the opaque mist. 

A second later, a hazy humanoid solidified into an approaching silhouette striding toward them. With every muted step, their features sharpened to reveal fiery red hair draped over slim shoulders, a vest secure over a dark bodysuit, green eyes eclipsed by the dreary surroundings.

"Fanny," Natasha said again, scolding this time with a playful lilt, coming to a stop in front of the three.

"Natasha," Yelena answered, wide-eyed. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Yeah, Nat," You piped up. "What are you doing here?"

Natasha looked at him, surprise evident in her expression. "[Y/N]? What are you doing here?"

"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this. Let's go inside." Yelena said, leading the way up to the house. Fanny ran ahead eagerly, twirling in impatient circles as everyone traipsed behind her.

Once inside, the frigid mist shut out behind a heavy wooden door, you immediately moved to the fire. You rolled up the sleeves of his jacket to expose your forearms, but didn't shrug it off, still feeling the chill in your bones. You stirred up the glowing embers; feeding them another log and coaxing a true, strong flame out of it.

Meanwhile, Yelena hung up her overshirt on a peg and stepped into the adjoining kitchen, shuffling through cupboards. The kettle's whistle crescendoed cheerily a few moments later. 

Natasha kicked off her boots at the door, falling into an armchair with a grateful sigh. She produced a dog toy from a pocket when Fanny jumped onto her lap, teasing the Shepherd with it but neither wanting to move too far.

Accepting the mug of coffee from Yelena when she padded back into the living room, you took the other armchair, leaving her to claim the plush loveseat. Fanny jumped off Natasha's lap as she received her beverage, instead lying down on a rug in front of the resplendently roaring fire.

You inhaled the steam, the soft fragrance providing gentle caresses of nostalgia. You blew on the hot liquid until it was cool enough to sip safely, smiling at the taste. 

Yelena and Natasha sipped quietly from their own mugs -- labelled 'blood of my enemies' and 'keep it up and you will be a strange smell in the attic' respectively -- while staring introspectively into the fire. Well, Natasha was. Yelena was admiring Fanny. As she rightfully should.

"So, Natasha," The blonde finally said, facing the other woman with a somewhat annoyed expression, "What has brought you here?" 

Drizzling rain began to fall outside. Fresh symphonies of pine wafted in through a cracked open window, condensation forming in the corners of its rustic frame.

Natasha tore her gaze from the fire to meet her sister's over the rim of her mug. "Mason called me to say you'd requested extra time. He wanted me to make sure you hadn't gotten yourself into trouble."

Yelena nodded absently. Her hazel eyes were glazed over; distant in thought. You looked between the sisters, utterly lost. 

"Mason? Is he your landlord? Are you leaving soon?"

The log crackled and popped, jolting hard enough to cause everyone in the room to startle. Yelena stared into her mug guiltily.

"No. He's… this a safehouse. I'm waiting for some media controversy to blow over." She confessed to the hot chocolate.

"Controversy surrounding the death of an important army benefactor?" You asked.

She looked up at you, clearly surprised and a little wary, but nodded. You sank a little deeper into the armchair, trying to make yourself smaller. Yelena looked to Natasha for an explanation. The avenger smirked.

"[Y/N] here had to leave the states pretty urgently after being framed for that benefactor's murder," She supplied, clearly enjoying every moment of what was to come.

Yelena gaped for a few moments, mouth opening and closing soundlessly, before she finally managed coherency. "Shit, I'm so sorry! I promise I wasn't the one to point any blame at you."

You waved her off, red-faced. "It's fine. We know who it was. Unfortunately, no official will even consider it, and demand I be put behind bars."

"Tony's working on the legal stuff," Natasha reassured you, before returning her attention to her drink. 

"Tony? As in Tony Stark of Stark Industries? Iron Man? You know him?" Yelena gushed, eyes shining.

"WellI'mkindofanavenger," You mumbled sheepishly. Natasha snorted in amusement.

"[Y/N] is one of the cool kids I run around with," She said in answer to Yelena's confused frown.

The Russian was struck speechless. Fanny sighed and shifted, briefly drawing her attention from blank staring, which gave you a breather to compose yourself.

"Yes. I'm an Avenger," you said; steady and strong. You were proud of your occupation. You'd saved lives -- the entire planet! -- countless times, and you'd do it again in a heartbeat. Yelena had every right to understand that.

"So," Natasha said, finishing her drink in one gulp and standing, "I'll be calling Mason to tell him everything's fine, and the other safehouse in Yukon is free since you're both staying here. That right?"



Natasha ended up staying with you. 

In a quiet conversation by the patio firepit after Nat had gone to bed, you and Yelena both agreed that the avenger needed this more than she cared to admit. 

The next morning, Yelena invited her sister to stay with you for the whole run of your supposed bedrest, to which she reluctantly agreed. 

(Honestly, your insistence swayed her more than her own volition. She couldn't resist three sets of puppy eyes.)

It was hard for Natasha to let go of work.

The boys and Wanda were a mess without her, and she received numerous disgruntled or chaotic calls throughout the day. She talked herself into flying back to the states multiple times, but you wouldn't let her. 

Yelena tried telling the team to back off -- to just let her relax -- but they failed to learn how to function without Natasha. 

Eventually, Pepper intervened and the calls stopped. 

Before this, you had put Nat's phone on silent and hidden it while she was showering. Yelena returned with clothing flown over from the compound (she'd been lending hers to her sister until now since Nat didn't bring any) to find you taped to a wall and Natasha in a frenzy.

That day, her paranoia swiftly devolved into a panic attack, which turned into a full breakdown. 

It was heartbreaking to watch your friend fall apart. Yelena helped her through it, and after a therapeutic cry Nat was more willing to ignore the others. The team knew the emergency code. She was finally ready to accept a break.

Released from the tape by a sheepish Natasha, you gave her a loving hug to melt into, then texted Pepper.

Nat was much happier after that. Her soul sang free like the spring songbirds for the first time. Even during the three years in Ohio, the shadow of the Red Room had bound her wings, and the recent ordeal of taking down Dreykov, of Antonia -- coming face-to-face with her greatest nightmare -- had been emotionally intense. To say the least.

Finally getting a true break allowed the reality of those horrors to be released. A huge weight took flight from her shoulders. 

Of course, healing takes time, and is not a linear journey. You and Yelena were there for Natasha every day.

Yelena's mood improved with her sister's, and soon the two were acting as if they'd never been trained assassins separated for twenty years. They were just a normal family. Happy, content.

Mealtimes were filled with cheerful banter and laughter, the result of weaving around bodies crammed into the kitchen and steam clouding cracked open windows.

Mornings were spent lazing in bed, followed by sunbathing on the porch with a coffee. Nights were either filled with alcohol and stumbling to bed; or books, cozy blankets and a roaring fireplace. The rest of their day was occupied with chores, exploring the island, and swimming in the lake. Natasha mostly played with Fanny around the island. She was almost more infatuated with the dog than Yelena, if that was even possible.

At some point, you ended up gravitating into Yelena's bed.

[mara-ganger]

Hey! I recently found your channel with the weird art mixed media vid and the recent nekojiru one. Its honestly a breath of fresh air seeing hour long videos that are more than just surface level discussions that could've been a 20-30 minute vid. That being said your most recent Nekojiru vid re-sparked a creative desire that's been clouded for months and im slowly getting back into it. Im curently juggling two video scripts, both on things I'm very into and passionate about wanting to talk about. Though I'm a little nervous that I'm gonna do what i always do and either burn myself out or half way through, realize its shit or just flat out not finish it. Again ive always wanted to make vids talking about shit i like but its putting my thoughts into writing and getting through that hurdle that i struggle with the most.

I just wanted to ask how you go about writing scripts for your vids and if there's anything you do to push yourself to, at the very least, getting the writing portion done since that's the area i have the most trouble in. Or just in general managing to translate your brain soup words into something coherent

Sorry for the majorly long ass ask, hope your having a good day :D

glad my stuff resonated with you so i'm extra sorry ahead of time, but you prolly picked the worst person to ask this lmao. there's no real secret to the method or anything, i tend to just hit my head against the desk day in day out and write with the hopes that what i got in the end isn't shit. typically stuff takes me a few months on average but the two vids you mentioned took me six and five months respectively, tho that's counting editing and recording and all that shit. when it comes to getting words out on paper, it's kind of an uphill battle for me and p. much every creator out there, it's just a matter of being bullheaded enough to stick with it and making sure you see it through all the way. i think a lot of people tend to be very particularly about their writing methods but for me it's just stream of consciousness, emotion-based more so than anything factually logical. sorry again for not being able to offer like meaningful advice but you've got this, i'm sure

[mxxny-lupin]

Request guidelines

[status: Open for blood of zeus request]

alright sluts (love y'all sm):

let's go over a few ground rules

[PLEASE READ BEFORE SUBMITTING ANY REQUESTS]

first things first: hi, i love You. thank you for even wanting to share your idea with me, and trusting me with it.

secondly: please be patient with me. i may not get to your request right away or at all, so please don't take that personally. im a human bean just like you with a life and a job, and sometimes i get writers block, and the creative juices just won't flow. not all requests spark something in my head

things i will not write:

something similar to a request i've written before or a request i can see has been done by another writer (don't send a bunch of us the same prompt to see who can get to it first, that's a dick move) requests for characters i don't normally write for and don't think i can do justice (i will redirect you to a blog that does write for that specific character in that case)

anything offensive, nonconsensual, involving an underage character, certain dark themes, incest unless its hotd, or anything that just gives me the ick (even whores have their limits ok)

who/what i will write for:

marvel, marauders, dc, hazbin hotel, bg3, avatar, spn, mha and many more

if there is a character you have in mind that i haven't written for yet, it doesn't hurt to ask! your request does not have to be hetero. you can be as gay as you want! i am perfectly fine writing queer fics! i'd actually love to write more! i'm also totally fine with writing for all races/ genders/whatever floats your boat! this is your request. i want to tailor it to you specifically

rules for smut/p.links:

there has been an influx of minors on here lately, so from now on, i will not be accepting anonymous requests for smut this is an 18+ blog, so you shouldn't even be interacting if you're underage if you want something spicy, you have to come off anon. i need to be able to confirm your age somehow

submission guidelines:

please include as much info as possible for your request and be specific! i need to know if you want a blurb, p.links, headcannon, etc. please include your pronouns & the pronouns you want used in your request! please be kind & patient! if I can tell that you haven't read any of these guidelines and have disregarded all the ground rules i've laid out, i'm just gonna delete your request. don't be that asshole i will do my best to get as close to your request as possible. if it is a topic i do not have a lot of familiarity with, i may reach out to you for more details. again, this is for you! i want it to be exactly what you want

if you've made it this far and you're still reading, thank you. i love you.

[cocogrrrl]

hello! can i request for a Michael (the tall goth kid) with a reader who has an ethereal aesthetic and appearance i think that would be so cute bc of their different looks and vibes😍😍

grace

hcs and drabbles of michael with an s/o who has an ethereal fashion sense!

michael x gn!reader no cws wc: 849

an: guess the horror movie i referenced in one of the drabbles who ever gets the right answer gets my love /lhj

I’m writing this off of the assumption that an ethereal appearance is grace, silky satin, white pearls, and all that jazz!

Michael isn’t big on PDA, but I feel like whenever he touches you, he does it so gently. He holds you so delicately in his hands like you’re a Faberge egg. Your graceful appearance only furthers this.

You break down the cold exterior he presents. It’s a side that even some of his friends haven’t seen—or at least aren’t used to seeing.

You were cuddled up against Michael’s side. You two were watching some shitty horror movie from the 80s—a common occurrence for the two of you. 80s horror movies weren’t your usual taste, but Michael introduced you to some really good ones like The Thing and Videodrome. The movie you two were watching was some apocalypse horror about some scientist who makes a deadly parasite. Frankly, the only reason you wanted to watch this movie was because Demi Moore debuted in it.  “This is so weird.” You said, face contorting into an expression of disgust as you watched the slug-parasite burst out of someone’s face once more. “Yeah,” he replied, finding your repugnance rather humorous. “This feels really Italian for some reason. Like, I know it’s American, but it feels like nothing there is in its right place.” “Mhm,” you hummed, burying your face in his side to cover the trashy imagery before you. You didn’t wanna watch more, all the gore was too much for you to handle. Michael seemed to pick this up since he gently grazed his fingers over your jaw, causing you to look up to him. He pulled you by the chin ever so delicately and nudged your nose with his to take your mind off of the crude scene before you two even for a moment.

He tries to match outfits with you!

Nothing that’s too on the nose, but something that goes along with what you’re wearing, you know?

He’ll message you in the morning, asking about your outfit of the day, and he’ll check his wardrobe if he has anything to go with it.

Whenever you two match, he loves to show off!!! He’s willing to actually not ditch classes and roam the school during breaks so that others can see that you two are matching. :3

As you were getting ready for school, you heard your phone buzz. michael 🤍 hey what are you gonna wear today? you im not exactly sure yet but i definitely wanna wear the flowy pants i bought last saturday when we went out :D  michael 🤍 alright With that, you shut your phone and continued going through your wardrobe to find the best possible top to go with your pants. An extra layer of pressure was added now that you was going to match outfits with Michael. You didn’t know just what to wear. A few minutes later, your phone rang with a notification again. Michael sent you a photo of himself with his outfit for the day. Attached was an “Is this okay?” to which you promptly replied with an affirmative yes. His outfit now sparked your creativity, and you now had something to base off on now.

He can and will spoil your ass!!!

Expect him to give you the most stunning and thoughtful gift you’ve ever received on a random Tuesday.

Why’d he do that? Nothing. Just felt like it.

“Hey, YN,” Michael called out to you in the hallways as you grabbed a few books in your locker, tapping on your shoulder. You turned to meet the face of the voice. “Hmm? Oh, hello, dear.” You grinned, pushing yourself on your toes to give him a kiss on his cheek. You saw him holding back a blush and a smile to your touch. “What is it?” You continued, asking what he approached you for. It wasn’t usual for him to go up to you like this—at least not before class since he usually got to class either super early or super late. “I wanted to give you this.” He said, handing you an ornately-decorated handbag. Your eyes lit up in excitement. You knew one thing from the gift so far—you were definitely gonna keep the bag. It was too pretty to throw out. “Can I open it?” “Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.” He nodded, resting himself on the locker adjacent to yours. The gift, or rather gifts, stunned you. What was inside was a pearl necklace, a flowery brooch, and a gorgeous poet’s shirt. “Michael… Why’d you get me this?” You said worriedly. You didn’t like the idea of him spending his money on you—especially if the things he got were pricey. “Why shouldn’t I? I was out with my friends yesterday at some antique shop, and I saw that. I knew you’d love it.” He smiled, quietly chuckling at your reaction. “You didn’t have to.” You replied, a pout on your face. “But I wanted to.” He reassured, placing his hands on your arms. “Well, thank you then.” You hummed, burying yourself in the crook of his neck.

[greenerteacups]

Hello! I wanted to let you know how amazing your fic is, it seems my life now revolves around Friday mornings. I think it may be one of my favorite series ever, not just fics, your stuff is better than most published works I have read. I really could go on and on. Suffice to say, thank you x1 million for just putting this out there for us.

I had a couple curiosities! Is it ever hard to restrain yourself and just post 1 time per week? Or is that necessary for your creative process?

Also, your fic is rapidly growing in popularity, do you ever get worried about how that might change your audience?

Thank you again for the amazing thing you've written, I feel super lucky to be reading it in real time because I know this is going to be one of those legendary classics.

Thank you so much! You're wonderfully kind, I really appreciate it, and I hope I can live up to your expectations!

Weekly posting: Posting once a week is actually something I started for my own sanity — posting it regularly/serially is better for audience response, so there's a natural incentive to do it, but it also gives me more time to write ahead. And having all of a book prewritten in advance is really important for me creatively, not only so as to avoid the possibility of cliffhangers, but also to feel immune from the pressure to change the story based on what audiences want.

Growing audiences: Oof, it's been wild. I've been sort of boggled by the response to my little fic; it was entirely unexpected and the most I can do is work hard to deserve it. For the most part, an increasing audience has been a wonderful, wonderful thing, and I've been so grateful for everyone who's been offering support and praise. I'm seriously insanely lucky. My only point of frustration is that, in general, as a fic grows, readers seem to perceive increasing distance between themselves and the author. For instance, people in my comments have increasingly started to address each other instead of me, or have left comments seemingly without the expectation that I'll read them. But when someone comments on the fic, they're still sending that message directly to the author, and I think that some people might... well, they either don't know that, or they don't care. Like, the audience/author distance might be greater than it is for a fic with only 300 hits, but it's not like I'm a showrunner, or some other media production bigwig who'll probably never see 99% of the feedback generated by fans; it's still my pet project that I read basically every scrap of feedback for.

And sometimes (rarely — most of my comments are just so wonderful, and I don't want to sound ungrateful, but) people do say weird or unnecessary things. One comment for the last chapter read, "if krum dies im gonna drop this fic ngl," and that just irritated the hell out of me. Like, if that's your opinion, cool. Your reading habits are none of my business, and I sincerely encourage everyone who needs to take a break from Lionheart — or, hell, even loses interest — to go find something that sparks joy instead. Reading fic should bring you pleasure. No hard feelings, swear to God.

But my frustration with that comment, in particular, was: you do realize that you've sent that message directly to my inbox, right? You realize that was the first thing I read when I opened my comments section after a long afternoon of writing? Someone directly informing me, the author, that a narrative decision (which, either way, I already made about 4-5 months ago) will lose me a reader? And how does this person expect me to react? "Oh, no! I have to go back and rewrite 90,000 words of the story — God forbid I lose you, Single AO3 User Who Left No Other Comments! How can I live with myself if you're not here??"

It's just a bit frustrating. And, to the point — I say this politely, with respect — but if you seriously can't handle seeing characters die, then maybe don't read the fanfiction that's rewriting a series where very many characters die. Just a thought.

[panbaric]

im stalking your blog and am shocked at the lack of posts exploring the podium curse on "amber"! would you ever write a follow up or tell us more of how you imagined the rules of the curse being like/what would happen in the years with both of them in f1?

Hi anon! I’m so glad you enjoyed amber, ever since I found out that Charles and Max shared their first F1-adjacent series podiums on the same day the thought had rattled about in my brain since and I wanted to do something with it.

The rules of the curse are something along the lines of: not every podium, but any podium, and always the first one. When I wrote amber I had a vague idea for a series of interconnected stories focusing in on key podiums in their careers, with both of them changing pretty consistently early on and so getting used to getting rid of the current with each other and then shock horror one day only one of them changes. There’s another instalment that lives in my head of them deliberately not dealing with the curse, but instead choosing to go out as women the night after the race, for the “anonymity” of it of course no other reason (Max spent hours finding a dress for the occasion). I think I would want to explore the world of amber a bit more, especially what it means for something like these men who exist in super rich conservative circles when they’re given a free pass at exploring sexuality and gender.

I have a Carlos POV lestappen as a religious horror fic I want to get out first, and I’m working on another long fic focusing on the monaco gp 2024 and well….what it means to be men raised in their positions and these circles, how much of their lives in their own and what belongs to a hungry world that wants a specific image. I think since the themes are similar in the latter that might spark some amber follow up ideas in my creative hindbrain, but as always please expect it to be slow going with me!

I’m genuinely so pleased you enjoyed amber, I think that’s the lestappen fic I’m currently proudest of and I definitely won’t say no to revisiting that again!

[ovaryacted]

HIII I hope you’re having an amazing day, I’d like to ask 9, 15, and 27 if that’s alright🙏

ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR REFOLLOWING, i accidentally unfollowed when i tried to click the ask😞

Hello leonfucker3000, it is a pleasure to finally have you in my inbox, big fan. Also, I fucking love your username LMAOOO, real af. I hope you're having a good day too! 🫶

writer ask game

9. Current WIP

My current WIP is Ch. 2 of Story of Us and it is a pain in my ass. I already finished it a while ago, but considering it was so long and I wasn't all that satisfied with it, I decided to look at it again after a couple of days of not focusing on it too much. That way, I can edit it with a clear set of eyes and hopefully make it more to my liking.

15. How do you deal with writer’s block?

I don't. Just kidding, but I treat writer's block like I treat anything else when I'm unhappy. I acknowledge my feelings, take a note of it, and pour my energy into something else in the meantime until I get some of that creative spark to return. I've learned the hard way that you can't force yourself out of writer's block or burn-out, it just doesn't work that way, believe me I've tried. The best thing you can do for yourself is do things that you enjoy, and to be patient with your creative energy. Sometimes, things just don't click, other times they do and you find yourself in the middle of an explosive epsiode of creativity where your mind is going a mile a minute. Sometimes you're lucky, sometimes you're not, and that's okay because the creative process is not linear. Good things simply take time, and when you want to get out of writer's block or any creative block for that matter, your mind will tell you once you're ready. As simple as that.

27. Favourite line/scene

I don't know if this question is specifically asking like a favorite line/scene from my writing or from media that I have consumed, so I'm answering both for fun. Hands down, it has to be that scene in S2 of Bridgerton where Kate starts off by saying "I'm leaving for India" and Anthony goes "That is not far enough" and that speech plays rent free in my head. When I first watched that scene after not really caring for S1, I was so into it, like wow, this is what you call quality TV! Drama! Yearning! Mutual pining!!! GIVE IT TO ME!

And as for a favorite line of mine in MY work, probably from Restless, one of my favorite pieces to date cause who doesn't love sub Leon with a mommy kink?

“You want to cum inside me? Fill mommy’s pussy up?”, he nodded dumbly at you, growing pussywhipped at your words and thrusting up into you harder to match your pace.

Yeah. I did my big one...need to write some more sub Leon with a mommy kink ASAP!

[not-poignant]

im finally sick of my brain being shitty enough to make an appointment with a psychiatrist, but in the meantime i thought i might ask you this: in your wonderful answer to my ask re writer's block you mentioned burnout, which im pretty sure is whats happening to me. i dont want to ask you to give me a long answer if you dont have the energy for it, but i would like to know your thoughts on the matter. its been head empty hours over here 24/7 for months, lol, i miss creating

Helloooo,

I actually have written about burnout quite a bit because I've gone through burnout er, quite a bit... In fact I'm going through it again right now.

I have written a fairly long post about it in the past, so that's there if you want to read it.

I've had different kinds of burnout. I've had 'I couldn't write for years' burnout (literally, after university I just couldn't write anything for years and just assumed it was dead and gone because I didn't want to do it either), I've had burnout that's lasted months (even while like...writing as I am now), and so on.

A lot of dealing with burnout is just...resting more. Taking the pressure off yourself more. Grieving that you can't create right now without guilt-tripping yourself for it, a sort of 'I mourn that I can't do it, but there's nothing wrong with me and I am not failing because I can't do it. I need rest and care.' You can try little writer's block tricks here and there when you want to prod again. You can try other kinds of creativity. I can't write like I used to write, so I tried fanfiction. I can't write like I used to write fanfiction, which is why I've never written another Game Theory, because I just...don't want to write another story like that right now (I mean specifically all the sex every chapter, not the politics lmao). I've been feeling an urge to write poetry lately.

For you, through burnout, low-stakes creativity may help. Stuff that can be automatic (cross-stitch kits, where you're just doing someone else's pattern and don't need to really think about it beyond the stitching), colouring books. Or stuff that's low-stakes for you. For me that's often poetry. For you it might be something else.

I also think of getting through burnout where I can't create anything as needing to 'refill the well.' I catch up on shows I've been missing (writing as much as I do actually gives me no time for reading / watching media), I read books, I watch movies, I listen to new music and comfort music, etc. If my well is empty, rest will partially fill it, but so will inspiration. Watching Studio Ghibli for example almost always makes me think 'I want to write the way this makes me feel' - even if I don't write it, that little urge is like, a pulse or spark of alive-ness that gives the well a drop more inspiration for when I'm ready to write again.

It's very different for everyone though. It's important to address the basics - sleep, medications, quality of life, hydration, being well-fed, health (as much as health is possible) etc. If you're anxious and have insomnia and skip meals and forget to drink water etc. then it's back to square one with just...doing your best there. If that's mostly covered, then burnout is often just about meaningfully resting your mind.

I'd also add that there's different kinds of rest. Physical rest (sleeping / stretching), sensory rest (unplugging from screens and social media and overstimulation), emotional rest (time and space to express your feelings), spiritual rest (connecting with something greater than yourself - going into nature, community, giving, meditation etc.), mental rest (breaks, journalling), creative rest (like the cross-stitch and stuff I mentioned above) and social rest (spending relaxing time with people who love you as you are now).

So it's also worth looking at maybe... you're only focusing on one or two kinds of rest right now. Sometimes burnout requires that you address more of them. <333

There's no easy way through, because rest is the easiest way through, and rest is very hard (and not always possible to the degree we need it) for all of us in this day and age. Be gentle with yourself. I wasn't going to write a post as long as this but actually as someone who needs to hear these things myself right now, maybe you might need to hear some of them as well.

The main thing is burnout doesn't last forever, it's cyclical, it's not like chronic fatigue, or other chronic illnesses. Even people with chronic fatigue (like me!) can experience burnout cycles. So this will pass! You may not feel like writing again in the same way, and that's okay, whatever new version of you evolves out of your current exhaustion, I hope you enjoy that version of yourself, and learn to care for and show compassion to the current version of your tired self as well <3

[joelscruff]

well, since we’re all sharing our appreciation for u and @swiftispunk…

i used to love to write and read, and then i just went to a really bad place, mentally, emotionally, and physically.

i had came across both of y’all’s pages and y’all are slowly bringing my love for writing and reading back.

i want to start writing again, but im so scared for some reason, y’all are such a great help for me to realize that there is literally nothing with writing/reading erotica or something angsty or just writing/reading in general.

y’all don’t know me and never will but i will forever be grateful that y’all are bringing out the part of me that i used to love, that i yearn for.

thank you thank you thank you.

this is truly such a lovely message and i appreciate it so much. I'm sorry you've had difficulty finding your spark again but i'm so glad that I was able to help you in some way ❤️ the past few years have been similar for me as well and returning to writing fic has made me so happy. it's so nice to feel creative again & to write things I'm proud of. you keep doing the same!!! theres absolutely nothing wrong with writing fic, it's so fun and freeing and such a great creative outlet!! keep going bestie 💖💖💖

[alrightrandy]

new year, new plans

what's this? a geniune alrightrandy blog post that isn't just random slop? …finally.

all jokes aside, i'm well aware that i haven't necessarily been ultilizing this site – as well as other platforms im on, as much as i wanted to. however, considering the new year has just begun i believe it's time to make some form of change around here.

i just want to preface this by saying that, all through out last year, i've ran myself into some personal turmoil that led me to essentially lack any sort of focus to work on any hobbies. it's hard to explain, i feel like i have done a lot but at the same time i clearly didn't have much creative output as much as i wanted to. and again, it didn't help that i was also juggling with stuff in my personal life too.

i guess the point i'm trying to make across here is that, i haven't properly found a right balance for myself, both creatively and irl-wise. and i certainly didn't have a proper sense of direction either… but i'm hoping to change that this year!

through out the end of 2023 up until the mid january, i've went through a pretty prolific event that kind of sparked a slew of motivation and plans to really get myself back.

in summary, around the holidays a phone of mine completely bricked itself for some random reason, making it practically inaccessible for me to use. and keep in mind, i'm still saving up to get myself a laptop, so i really had no other personal devices besides that phone.

thankfully, i did manage to get a new one – however, the point is that me being phone-less for a brief moment was very "humbling" for me. not only it was the only device for communication and having a creative outlet, but it just goes to show nothing should be taken for granted. ANYTHING can be lost in a matter of seconds, a simple reminder that i really needed to get myself together.

and with that, everything brings me to here. i've somewhat finally came up with a plan to hopefully boost some motivation within me, and also have a better commitment to my creative output.

to get the obvious stuff out of the way, in reguards of my youtube channel – as well as anything reguarding about dj'ing and music. i am going to try my best to put a heavier focus on these since its something i'm still a complete beginner at. it's a new hobby i've recently picked up, and it only makes sense for me to try to lean onto it a bit more. matter in fact...

i just recently put out something onto my channel!

i'm going try to put out at least one mini mix on a monthly (or bi-monthly) basis. hopefully it will not only expand my portfolio as a dj, but i geniunely think this could help with my issues with commiting to something. plus, i think it would definitely bring in some life to my channel since i still have no clue what direction i want to take it in.

don't get it twisted, i still want to experiment with all sorts of different types of videos. however, i can't make any promises if any of it will reach the light of day. at least with these mini mixes, they will hopefully still appear consistently even if i have nothing else to upload. idk, i think its a decent enough idea to sink time into.

now, reguarding everything about creating artwork and ultilizing my platforms. it's still somewhat uncertain, however if you checked my pinned post i have recently updated it with new sites you can check me out on!

but in short, i will also try to branch out more and maybe even network myself to finding ppl / communities. and along the way, i will also try to get back into creating art since i really have been putting that on the back burner. again, no promises but i have been putting some thought into it! (i'm looking at you Newgrounds and Bluesky…)

i'm reaching my text limit, so this is all i have for now. i'll catch you guys on the flipside, i really do hope i do better this year. knock me out if this post ages horribly lol

happy 2024!

~🐇

[babydarkstar]

You write? :3

yes i do 😳 above everything else i consider myself a writer. it’s a fundamental part of me—words are what i’m good at, and like an illustrator can create wonderful worlds with lines and color, i strive to do the same with words.

i can remember before i even learned to read i was 4 years old and had stories i wanted to tell. i was 12-14 and i blackened journals with poetry and prose, things i would look back on now and think ‘omg cringe’ but in the moment that was my flow and i’ll never judge myself for that. any sort of creative writing project in school was a guaranteed 100 for me, because i took on the assignment like it was my mission from god. when i was 14/15 my best friend was always the one i would send any original writing/stories to bc she would always hype me up and help me talk through my ideas. i owe a lot of my perseverance to her, because she gave me the encouragement i needed to keep pushing myself to get better and better. i have original characters and stories that i started/worked on when i was 14-18, as well as a lot of stream of consciousness poetry and a few other abstract ocs that i wrote when i was 18-20 and going thru crazy shit w friends and almost-never-quite-lovers. i started this blog when i was 16 and mainly used it as a fandom blog to write star wars fanfiction, and i wouldnt say i established any sort of foothold as a fan content creator, but i published a lot of stuff here and on ao3, ao3 who is my wife and my beloved angel forever and ever til (hopefully only my) death do us part. long live, amen. my inspiration to write ebbs and flows so i don’t push it when it isn’t working for me. for like a year i created content for pedro pascal’s cinematic universe of characters™ when i got super into the mandalorian, but then my interest for it faded. i also started doing drugs again which always hinders my writing and that’s actually a huge reason why i’m sober now, and a huge motivation to stay sober. then i somehow went through an mlp phase like an insane person, and im still working on a collaborative project for rarijack (bless) w an artist who i met via that fandom. the lesbian/sapphic/wlw content creators in mlp fandom on tumblr are actually epic tho they are few and far between. quite a few hidden gems, but v hidden bc there are so many creators and not everyone gets the attention they deserve. mlp didn’t spark my desire to create fan content/fic quite like the locked tomb tho, which is my current obsession and also permanently altered my brain chemistry like nothing i’ve ever read before and oh my god in like 3ish months ive literally written probably upwards of 80k words of a modern/college au that i’m still working the kinks out of. and it is. mostly smut because i saw these lesbians and i was like yall deserve to kiss and have narsty (meaningful) dyke sex and also hold each other for 17hours straight and not have to deal with so much shit. but then again i also am putting them through their own trials and tribulations in the au. so. yknow. some characters beg to be traumatized. it’s a character study, among other things. lmao. but yeah i havent posted anything for tlt yet bc one im just a little bit scared of the fandom on here and also ive set myself with this goal that i want to FINISH a story and publish it bc i always end up posting my stuff without finishing and when i read fic i like it to have a promise of an ending, so i also want to emulate that as a writer, even just on a personal level of wanting to say i’m capable of starting and finishing something meaningful like that. i also havent ever posted original work/poetry (maybe some poetry i cant remember) bc it’s. idk more near and dear to me than fanfiction, and i consider everything i write very near and dear, so i guard the og stuff w my life lmao.

damn. sorry for the life story but. it really is just a fundamental part of who i am. i’m in the process of becoming a kindergarten teacher and one thing i’ve always wanted to do was to learn how to create stories that are relevant for my students. i’ve also always wanted to create a children’s book; one of my lovely coworkers has a degree in studio art and she’s dreamt of being an illustrator for a children’s book, so i’ve been seriously considering doing that with her at some point in the future, once my life is more settled and i’m able to focus on it and give it the attention it needs <3 thanks for your curiosity hehehe

[homestuckhecc]

Hey all, its been a while...

heeeeeeyy its been like what, more than a year since ive been proper active? Since the year is about to end I wanted to at least let ya'll know i'm alive at least lol. I also wanted to update you guys on myself and my projects (since im talking on the side account ya'll know im taking about HSEI).

I have this thing called an office job which is uber fun and totally doesn't make me tired by the end of the day but hey, the pay is not bad.

Anyways during this year i've been hit with that creative depression so I haven't been working on ANYTHING but I've had my spark come back towards the end of the year but haven't posted anything so I just have a couple of drawings I've done (mostly redraws) but its SOMETHING at least. ivealsobeenreadingjojosbizzareadventurespart1-5whichhastotallynotbeenconsumingcomeofmyeveningtimeandthoughts

Most importantly, I do plan on continuing HSEI albeit i will have to redraw some of the panels AGAIN since i find some of them mega cringe/could really use an update in style (and some sprites could use a fix before they show up). I really do want this series to be completed since it's a project that I did out of fun and since people actually liked it I wanted to fulfill the goal.

Last thing, similar to HSEI I still plan on finishing Skaiabic (might change the name) as I have been slowly piecing it pre/during/post story and it is significant to my main stories so at SOME POINT I do need to finish it lol. I have made some more sprites but I still got a ways to go if im ever to go complete it ehehehe

that is all for my update and Have A Happy New Year!!

[vlkodddlak]

For shockwave!

15. Does this tf character ever make anything creative (e.g. writing, drawing, sculpturing)? If so, do they show other people what they’ve made?

16. What do you think this tf character’s opinions regarding humankind is?

THANK U FOR ASKING!! your ask game is super cool!!

im gonna go with tfp shockwave cause he's my fave. my version of him isnt that scary and evil he's just kind of a guy who likes to play around with science and engineering, doesnt know basic safety, and is bad at socializing. he's still kind of a cartoon type villain tho

15. ohh he's creative for sure. it's not always that obvious, but i do like to think that shockwave likes to create things for fun sometimes. about 98% of the stuff he works on are projects that will help the decepticon cause, but he does occassionally get a spark of creativity and decides to make something for himself. it's not art in a traditional sense, like poetry, music, etc, but it's enough to count as art (in my opinion)

the 'art' he creates may include stuff like: 1) creating little gadgets that have no practical use, they just look cool

2) playing with chemicals just to get some interesting reaction. like putting some liquids together just cause it makes them change colors in a pretty way or something

3) adding decorative designs to his creations, again, simply for the esthetics

ok ok i know these sound silly, but when you think about the fact that shockwave is a serious, 'logical' character and not someone artsy, these little actions DO count as creative! think about it!!

he NEVER shows others, tho. it's not that he's insecure about his craft, it's simply not something that he wants to share. i wouldnt say that the creative things he does are personal (he probably doesnt see any artistic value in his little projects, it's just for fun after all) but his art comes from feelings and thoughts deep within him that even he doesn't like to admit (like idk... the fact that he can be happy and enjoy something? no one should know that! 😡). basically, he's not comfortable showing his creativity to others, unless it's someone he knows for a long time and absolutely trusts, which isnt a lot of people...sigh hes so weird

16. oh he couldn't care less. like, fr. i mean if the decepticons want to transform Earth and eradicate all life including humans then he'll just... go along with it yknow? his main focus is helping megatron, it's all he really cares about....BUT! i do think that there's a chance he COULD develop some sort of care for humanity? i can't say it confidently, but i do think he would be able to connect with humans through his favorite things - science and technology!

human technology is WAY behind cybertronian one, but shockwave might find himself curious about it! well, to be specific, he would find interest in HOW humans came to their discoveries and research. humans are such a small, young species after all! how come they've done and discovered so much in so little time? (this is all relatively speaking lol)

of course, over time he would be interested in more than just human technology. he would also look into human history, art, language...probably anything regarding humans. if he's focused on something, he is focused A LOT. shockwave human hyperfixation real

eventually his slight interest for human science would turn into fascination and later... appreciation? maybe? it would take him a pretty long time and he would definitely need someone or something (preferably a human friend) to convince him to even look into human stuff, since he doesnt view humanity as anything important from the start... but yea! i like to think that this big purple mf would go from "humans small and weak and stupid and unimportant" to "humans small and weak...and kinda cool"

ahhh i can't believe i wrote so much omg.... embarrassing! 😞😞anyway yea shockwave is my fucking fictional fidget toy, whenever i'm bored i poke him and squish him in my brain