#of course Katya posted that

[petrovna-zamo]

Katya ❤️ Princess Folsom ❤️ Oasis San Fran

[g0dr0t]

TWO MORE WEEKS UNTIL DRAWING TABLET

[cool-lesbian-is-here]

Intro post!!!!!

I’ve never actually officially done one, so I might as well.

I am Katya (short for Kateryna)

I was born in Ukraine and lived there for two years before moving to England with my family. I also had like a weird year where we lived in Luxembourg but whatever. So yeah I speak Russian and English fluently and I can understand ukrainian but not speak it fluently.

I am a cis lesbian MINOR (14).

I love music, I listen to it all the time so here are some artists I like 😁😁: David Bowie, queen, Rolling Stones, the smiths, oasis, Måneskin, the Runaways, the Beatles, T. Rex, Aerosmith, Jon Bon Jovi, AC/DC, Billy Joel, deep purple and pink Floyd, ABBA, girl in red, Chappell roan, Olivia Rodrigo, Ayesha erotica, K$SHA, Britney Spears, mccaffferty, Alex G, Penelope Scott, Rio Romeo, the front bottoms, Mitski, Laufey, Madilyn Mei, the cardigans, Conan Gray and arctic monkeys

TV Girl has my heart

There are obvs more but I can’t remember them all, anyway, moving on, fandoms!

BBC Sherlock, the marauders, LOTR and The Hobbit, dead boy detectives,the dead poets society, wicked, a series of unfortunate events, Good omens, Percy Jackson and gravity falls.

Books that literally changed my brain chemistry: the Perks of Being a Wallflower, dead poets society, Girl, interrupted (as well as the movie), the catcher in the rye, Solitaire, and a separate peace.

Obsessions I had when I was younger(please don’t laugh): Ed sheeran(I KNOW, OK.), Katy Perry (her songs r still kinda fire tho) and of course “The Land of Stories” (that shit had a hold on me)

Hobbies: reading, crochet, playing idle games and watching yt side by side, and making random shit

Style: I’d say I dress grunge so my clothes all have like a little bit of each marauder in them

Marauders!!!: I think I am a James kinnie, my fav marauder is sirius tho and my fav ship is wolfstar(nothing is better than the original in my opinion). Honestly, I think I lean towards fluffy fics more when I’m looking for a wolfstar fic and also there’s this random lore Abt me that I have read ATYD twice and also ATYD-Sirius’s perspective twice.

Random lore: when I was 11, my brother and I exploded a power bank together so now I have this big scar on my leg from the burn. My favourite colour is green. I also have a fake name that I give to ppl who I don’t rlly want knowing my name. I’m allergic to gold but I look rlly good in it 😔😔. I annotate my books.my fav dinosaur is the triceratops. I love to quote random songs on here ✨✨. Also I rlly wanna play guitar but I have zero musical talent 😭😭. Also I love death note!!!

I honestly think that’s everything, so um yeah! That’s me :)

ALSO GUYS JS QUICKLY, IF I CALL YOU “girl” OR “bitch” IM NOT TRYNA CALL YOU AN ACTUAL GIRL OR AN ACTUAL BITCH ITS JS SMTH THAT I USE AS GENDER-NEUTRAL THINGS TO ALL PPL. IM RLLY SORRY IF I MISGENDER U, I RLLY DONT MEAN TO, ITS JS A THING I SAY!!!

This is a cool funky collage of my vibes 😁😁, a courtesy of my beautiful, talented, cool, funky, awesome sauce moot: @dont-turn-left

✨my moonshine✨: @corvibb

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

The only fool on April Fools'

Natasha thought she came up with the best prank ever. But she forgot exactly who she was trying to prank.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 2.7k • Warnings: suggestive talk Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

A/N: a late birthday post from me :)

2028

Natasha could not stop looking at her hands on the steering wheel. More specifically, she couldn't stop looking at her nails. Every time they caught her eye when she went to change the song on the radio or flick her blinker, the smuggest smirk took over her entire face.

She'd been thinking long and hard about this year's prank. April Fools' Day was a serious occasion for her and Katya, a holiday they planned for for months. It started in 2010 when Natasha had been brave enough to prank her girlfriend at the time, and it developed from there. The only rule they had was that the pranks shouldn't be too humiliating. Just funny. So there was a lot of creative freedom.

This year, she really nailed it. It was hilarious. She was hilarious, and Katya was going to be so pissed. She thought Natasha had just gone to get a haircut, but she'd be getting the worst surprise of her life when she showed her what she'd actually been doing in the city.

Was it cruel? Yes. But Katya replaced all the Oreo cookie filling with toothpaste last year. Natasha's Oreo cookies. And she filled a donut with mayo. So Natasha wanted to let her feel that same pain. Only more subtly.

When she walked into the house, pushing her smirk aside for the sake of the prank, the smell of cake filled her nostrils. It smelled delicious, like chocolate and butter. A special recipe that Katya had been meaning to try. Too bad that Natasha wouldn't be eating a single piece of it, considering there was probably salt in it instead of sugar, but at least she knew where to find her darling wife. 

Prepared to feel incredibly smug and pleased, she strolled into the kitchen. Katya stood with her back turned, softly singing a song as she mixed something with the handheld electronic mixer. The noise drowned out the sound of Natasha's footsteps, so she didn't hear her come in. It only prolonged the excitement. "Smells good in here."

Katya jumped, quickly turning off the mixer. "Oh. Hi, baby!" An adoring smile spread across her lips as she turned around. Natasha almost felt bad for her upcoming prank. Almost. "Let me see your hair." A crease formed between her brows as she studied Natasha's long red locks. "It doesn't look any different," she said carefully, as if she was afraid to offend her new haircut.

Natasha smiled sheepishly, glancing down at her hands. "Yeah, well, you know… I was planning on getting my hair done, but then I passed a nail salon, and, well…" Instead of explaining, she simply brought her hands up, holding her nails out for Katya to see.

When the nail stylist asked her what shape she wanted, Natasha told her to go for the pointest, most stabby looking nail she could do, and she hadn't disappointed. Two inches long, all of them ended in a point that could seriously poke somebody's eye out. The deep red color and the black details turned them into the sexiest murder weapons she'd ever had. The sexiest, most inconvenient weapons ever. They were lowkey homophobic.

She saw the different emotions cross Katya's face one by one. Excitement, at first. Probably because she was happy Natasha spoiled herself, or she liked the nails. Then hesitation. Then realization. Then anger, which manifested with a slight twitch of her brows. And lastly…

Actually, Natasha couldn't decipher the emotion that slid over the anger. It was like Katya mentally paused before she could get really angry, and then decided on a different course. All of it happened within a second. Her brain was just that fast at assessing a situation.

An excited gasp flew from her lips. "They look so good, honey!" Katya exclaimed, carefully taking Natasha's hands in her own to see her nails better. "The design is so simple yet so elegant. It really suits you!"

Natasha inwardly frowned, her smugness plummeting. This was not the reaction she had been hoping for. Not by miles. But she wasn't giving up yet. "What do you think about the length?" She smiled, mirroring Katya's excitement. "I wanted to go even longer, but I've never had nails before so I didn't want to overdo it."

"No, I love it! It suits your hand shape really well." 

To Natasha's even bigger surprise, Katya let her hands go to grab her cheeks instead, pulling her close to press a sweet kiss to her lips. Her blue eyes sparkled joyfully. "I'm so glad you treated yourself to something nice. You deserve it."

Then she turned around and went back to making the icing for her cake. 

Natasha stood there, lost, wondering how this had gone completely the opposite way of how she wanted. Katya was supposed to be upset, asking her what she was thinking, getting long ass nails as a woman in a lesbian relationship. With those weapons on her fingers, she could not use them for her favorite activity whatsoever. 

But instead of getting pissed, Katya got the opposite. She happily sang, swaying her body as she finished mixing her icing. Not a care in the world.

Natasha's prank had dramatically failed.

"Look how good this looks." Katya suddenly turned around, a big scoop of chocolate icing on her pointer finger. Slowly, she brought it to her lips, sucking her finger into her mouth and pulling it out. "Hmm, so good," she moaned.

The very bottom part of Natasha's stomach twisted into knots. She couldn't find her words as she watched Katya lick off the icing in a way that was incredibly sensual. And not by accident.

''Yep, that's done!" She beamed. Katya covered the bowl with some foil and put it in the fridge, happily twirling around to a still frozen Natasha. ''I'm going to lift some weights. Could use a spotter.''

''I—'' Natasha mentally slapped herself, swallowing thickly. ''Sure.''

Katya perked up. ''Okay. Give me a minute to change.''

She wasn't stupid. She knew exactly what those nails meant. It meant her wife was an ass. An ass who didn't want to get laid for a few weeks, apparently. 

Her first instinct was to get pissed. Get pissed at Natasha for partly ruining their sex life. Because while they owned many replacements, Natasha's fingers would always be her favorite, and they were not going up there looking like that. 

But then Katya realized that getting angry was exactly what her wife was after. And what better way to ruin a prank by pretending not to see it? In fact, she was going to throw Natasha's own prank right back at her, make her miserable. Show her that getting these nails would come back to bite her in the ass. Fast.

Nobody messed with her.

Choosing her smallest sports bra and tightest cycling shorts, Katya threw her hair up and returned to Natasha. The woman seemed to be disoriented, or at least deep in thought. She was in the exact spot Katya left her ten minutes earlier, frowning at the countertop. When she did look up, Katya purposely flexed her biceps as she tightened her ponytail, drawing Natasha's gaze directly to her arms.

Her green eyes darkened as they took in Katya's figure. Everything that wasn't bare skin was skin-tight. And while her body didn't look the way it did when she was twenty-four—duh—Natasha still thought it was hot as hell. She wanted to grab it, bend it over the counter—

''Earth to Nat.''

Natasha rapidly blinked, pulling her head out of the clouds. ''Hm?''

Katya had a huge grin on her face that she tried to hide. ''I said; are you coming?''

''Oh, yes.''

She didn't even try to not stare at Katya's ass as the brunette walked in front of her. It was right there, shaking in those spandex shorts. The urge to grab it and press her nails—oh. With a frown, Natasha looked down at her pointy nails. She couldn't grab Katya's butt and press the top of her nails down at the same time.

''Hmm…'' Katya stopped in the doorframe of the garage—their home gym. ''What do you reckon I should do first?''

''Ass.'' Natasha was just in time to bring her gaze upwards when Katya spun around, staring straight into her raised eyebrow. Her cheeks heated up when she realized what her half-horny brain had thrown out. ''I meant squats.''

''Squats it is.'' Katya smiled.

Even the process of setting it all up drove Natasha up the wall. To get the weights on the bar, Katya had to lift them, and because she barely wore a shirt, her back, shoulder, and arm muscles visibly flexed for Natasha to see. Her hands itched, but she suspected Katya was playing a game, and she wasn't going to give in.

They both weren't going to give in. So it was going to be a game of who can hold out the longest.

If things progressed this way, Natasha was one hundred percent sure she was going to lose.

''Okay.'' Katya excessively bent over to put her resistance band down. She'd warmed her muscles—doing some very deep deep squats—and secured her ponytail once more. ''I'm ready.''

Natasha knew it was going to be a mistake when she stepped behind Katya. She knew she was digging her own grave. The brunette pressed her ass into her front and flexed her muscles way more than necessary as she adjusted her grip on the bar resting on her shoulders. Natasha clenched her jaw to keep still and quiet, but the frustration started to build. 

Down Katya went for the first squat, pausing a few seconds before she went up again. Natasha squatted along with her, forcing herself to pay attention to the bar and only the bar. She wondered if she could even close her hands around it in case Katya needed her help. Those damn claws of her were probably in the way. 

She was about to breathe out in relief when Katya didn't pull any stunts on the way up. 

Then she let out the sexiest grunt ever. 

Natasha nearly collapsed through her knees. Dirty memories of times where Katya grunted like that flashed through her head. Half an hour of teasing and she was on the very edge of damning it all to hell. Screw her dignity. She wanted something else to screw, and fast.

Down, Katya went again, audibly breathing out as she went down, and grunting when she straightened up. Down, breathing out. Up, grunting. 

Three times, Natasha kept herself together with great difficulty. On the forth grunt, her sexual frustration snapped.

''Put it down.''

Katya smirked to herself. She expected her wife to keep it together a bit longer, but obviously her plan was working. ''What? Why? I've just started,'' she said innocently, pretending to be extremely confused the same way she'd been pretending to be stupid.

''Put the thing down.''

Carefully, Katya racked the bar, furrowing her brows as she turned to face the fuming redhead. Before she could blink, Natasha had her pinned against one of the squat rack's poles. She felt all that frustration in the way her spine bumped against the metal. ''What's going on?'' Her eyes widened like that of a deer in headlights.

''Stop playing dumb.''

''Playing dumb?''

Natasha took one good look at her and knew she wasn't going to give in. Katya could play the innocent persona as long as she wished to, no matter what threat Natasha would sling at her head. Torture training as a kid clearly worked better for her. The only thing she had to do was grunt a bit and Natasha was a goner.

A groan of frustration filled the garage. This was cruelty in the most ruthless way. Dangling the richest, most tasteful, most expensive wine in front of an alcoholic but not letting them have a taste. Collecting all her self-control, Natasha backed away, stalking off without so much as another word.

Katya snickered proudly, smirking as she turned back to the squat rack. Her plan was going amazingly so far. These weren't the only tricks up her sleeve. 

The torture continued throughout the day. She was doing the dishes? She accidentally got the front of her shirt all wet, and didn't happen to wear a bra. The dinner table needed a good clean? She was bent all over that thing trying to get the spots in the middle. She was vacuuming? She was on her hands and knees on the floor trying to vacuum underneath the couch.

Wherever Natasha went, she also miraculously had to be. The redhead could not escape her. It was torture training. But in a way she'd never been tortured before.

The weapons on her hands had gone from ''the funniest things ever'' to ''I'm going to rip my whole nail off if it means I get to stuff my hand down her pants''. She couldn't take it anymore. Sexual frustration built and built until her stomach was in a permanent knot and her hands were constantly sweaty.

Two hours before Maya was meant to be coming home, Natasha couldn't take it anymore. The groans, grunts, and sighs, and the positions Katya bent her body in finally pushed her over the edge. 

Fine, her wife had won. But taking a hit to her ego and pride was worth it if she could finally get her hands between those legs.

She didn't even bother soaking her nails off. She simply took nail cutters to them and cut them all off as short as possible. Then she filed them down roughly, paying extra attention to the middle three fingers of her left hand, and tossed everything in the trash.

Katya heard her coming from miles away, her rushed footsteps before Natasha cornered her in the laundry room. She saw them immediately; her nails. Or the lack thereof. 

Concerned, she dropped a t-shirt back in the laundry basket, trying to reach for her hands. ''Oh, no, what did you do to your nails?''

But Natasha wasn't taking this innocent bullshit anymore. ''You drive me absolutely nuts. You pest,'' she grumbled. Her voice lacked serious anger as she slowly backed Katya up against the washing machine. Instead, it was laced with reluctant defeat and annoyance. Annoyance at herself.

A sly smile overtook Katya's features as she gripped the edge of the machine for stability. It looked like her wife had been through it. ''Ready to admit you made a mistake then?''

''I hate you.'' 

Katya chuckled softly. ''You dug your own grave, babe. Worst prank ever. Well, for you then. It was so much fun for me.'' She smirked teasingly as she slowly trailed her fingers up Natasha's arm. The game was still going on. Even now. The glare Natasha sent her was weak at most. ''Don't forget who you're messing with.'' 

Natasha rolled her eyes, leaning forward to connect their lips, thinking this was it. But Katya jerked her head back, amusement swimming in her eyes. 

''Nuh-uh. Say it.''

''Say it?'' The redhead grumbled impatiently, seconds away from throwing a fit. 

Katya nodded smugly, her fingers slowly trailing down Natasha's arm. ''I need to hear it. I…''

Natasha clenched her teeth together to swallow back the vile words and accusations that Katya would only laugh at. She didn't think she would be this cruel, giving her dignity another slap in the face by making her vocally admit her mistake like a child. Unfortunately, Natasha didn't have another option. 

She squinted her eyes, placing as much displeasure in her words as she could. ''I made a mistake thinking I could outsmart my mean, cruel wife.''

Happy, Katya grinned, grabbing Natasha's hips to pull them flush against her own. This victory tasted sweeter than her chocolate cake downstairs. She won April Fools'. And she didn't even have to do anything for it. ''You know, it's really not my fault you get so riled up.''

Natasha usually loved to bicker, but she couldn't take it anymore. Her gaze kept drifting down from Katya's eyes to her lips when she talked, and if she wouldn't get her mouth or hands on her body right this instant, she was going to explode. ''Respectfully, shut up. You had your fun, now it's time for mine.''

''Yeah, those nails aren't going up there looking like that.''

[dear-ao3]

hello what im seeing from the pipe geronimo stilton post is that katya also grew up on the mouse books

im literally a furry. of course i grew up on the mouse books and had a crush on thea stilton as a lad

[deathbypufferfish]

~ click here to read the written story while you read this legacy post! It is under the cut as well ~

So many good things happened that night. Getting a fake relationship off your chest, coming out, touching. If only Ilya hadn't tried to kiss him. And if only he wasn't drunk enough that Haru had stop him. Maybe then Ilya wouldn't have run away and maybe then neither of their hearts would be broken. Too many things happened that night.

Full written scene under cut (word count: 1635)

Somewhere in-between Emi’s keg-stand and Joe’s flirting, Haru had lost track of Ilya.

What began as a simple scope around the room had quickly turned into a frantic search and a pit of anxiety in Haru’s stomach. The last time he saw Ilya he was downing his beer with fervor. It was something he had never seen before. He wondered if he had ever even seen him drink in the first place.  Anxious thought upon thought was stacking up in his brain when the most obvious location finally came to mind. His dorm room. 

The tower of thoughts toppled over and a new mixture of emotions arose. Anticipation and excitement. Haru had accepted weeks ago that things between him and the dancer would never be more than friendly, but the feelings he tucked away were hard to keep down. They haunted him at night and filled idle daydreams throughout the day. Imagining scenario after scenario. But that was all they were and all they ever could be, daydreams. He just needed to find Ilya already.

Once down the hall Haru could tell by the dim glow underneath his door that his bedside lamp was still on. He walked in and his hunch was confirmed. Ilya was sitting on the floor, his back leaned up against Haru’s bed, and his shoes were off . He lazily stroked the wooden grooves of the nightstand. Slowly and exaggerated. It was very apparent that he was drunk out of his mind.

“I’m sorry, I was looking at your stuff,” he slurred.

“Huh?”

“I’ve been looking at all your things. Like your pictures…and your books…” He barely spoke louder than a murmur. His fingers still traced the wood as he spoke.

“Oh, um, that’s alright.” Haru didn’t know what else to say. Not a single thing made sense to him right now. Ilya was drunk, in his room, and apparently perusing through his things. That pit of anxiety returned with a vengeance. Ilya finally turned to look at him. His eyes were red. His shirt collar was wet with tears. Haru’s actions came to him so naturally after that.

He let him help him off the floor and onto his bed. There was no protest or drunken apologies. Ilya simply stared at him with an expression that felt so blank and yet so sad. His gaze felt heavy on him. Intrusive even.

He knelt to the ground and grabbed his shoes. Without even thinking, he began to put them back on Ilya. He immediately felt like such a fool, but it was too late. Stopping now would be worse, right? Right? As he tied his laces he dared to take a peek up at Ilya’s face. He was covering his face with both of his hands, but Haru could still see furious blushing on the tips of his ears. He finished tying his shoes as quickly as possible as the blood rushed to his own face as well.

Haru sat next to Ilya on his bed at a respectful distance, and they both sat in silence for an uncomfortable minute or so. Ilya shifted back and forth every once and a while, seemingly always on the edge of saying something. At last he spoke in just a soft enough whisper to hear.

“I’ve never had a friend like you.”

“What do you mean?” Haru turned to look at him, but still found him evading his gaze. Ilya rubbed his hands along the knees of his jeans. Slowly feeling the rough fabric slide to and fro underneath his palms. Haru thought it almost sounded like the rolling of waves along a shore. Every sentence seemed to take him a great deal of time to form and think through. Whether it was the alcohol or nerves, Haru couldn’t tell.

“I mean, I’m close with Katya, but not like I am with you.”

“Well, she’s your girlfriend. Of course it would be different.”

“No, no, it’s not different,” he snapped. “She's not actually my girlfriend.”

Ilya squeezed his eyes shut and clenched the fabric in his hands. What was he talking about? Did they break up? Haru had seen them talking to each other just an hour ago. If he was honest, he hadn’t been watching them that closely. He’d rather not see his unrequited crush talk to his girlfriend, but he would have at least noticed any domestic tension.

The reality of Ilya’s confession dawned on him. They weren’t in a real relationship and maybe never were. They were faking it. When he looked at it under this lens, he realized that they never truly interacted as a couple. Of course, except when Katya would kiss Ilya in front of him. Maybe it was for show. Maybe it was Katya’s disdain for Haru. But Ilya had just confessed that their relationship was never truly romantic. More than that, Haru thought about what this may mean for Ilya’s sexuality.

“Oh…I see.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he whispered.

Ilya finally turned to look at him. They were closer together than Haru initially realized. He couldn’t help but examine every mole, every crease, every detail of his sorrowful, yet beautiful face. It was hard to breathe in such close proximity. The hugs they had shared before felt prudish in the shadow of this intimacy.

He tried to deny it, but he felt as if Ilya was doing the same thing. The way he was leaning in, the way his chest heaved with his shallow breaths. That far-fetched idea of him loving him back felt so tangible all of a sudden. And it was terrifying

“It’s okay. You could have never told me, and it would still be okay,” he whispered back. “I care about you.”

Ilya opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. His face was burning red again. His eyes wide and dilated. Haru couldn’t bear it, being so close. It was pure torture. As his stomach flipped and the heat rose in his chest he took his chance and laid a soft hand over Ilya’s.

It was stiff and terribly awkward at first. Ilya had frozen so quickly you would think he would shatter. Haru was wondering if he had made a grave mistake when Ilya’s deep breath interrupted him. In just a moment more he mellowed under his touch, simply letting his hand lay atop his own. For a moment everything fell still. They did not speak, they just sat in each other’s presence. After a while things began to feel tense again, overwhelming even, so Haru broke the silence.

“How about we get you some coffee?” he said.

Ilya was still staring at the floor, but a small smile had crept up onto his stern face. He nodded. Haru stood up and tried to gain his composure before leaving the privacy of his dorm room. Ilya followed suit, but wobbled at his own sudden movement. Haru grabbed his elbow and steadied him with a soft chuckle. Coffee was a requirement at this point. Ilya stared at Haru's hand on his arm and before Haru could even react he found himself in his arms.

Sure they had hugged before, but it was fleeting and friendly. This was something else entirely. Ilya was practically hanging off him, pressing most of his weight into their embrace. He pressed his face into his shoulder and sighed. Haru could have passed out right then and there. This entire night was threatening his ability to stay conscious, honestly. It was worth it, he decided, and pressed his cheek to the top of the shorter man’s head. His curls tickled his nose. It was hard to not think about how much he loved him.

Ilya pulled away only slightly, their faces mere inches apart. He leaned in further. Their lips had only barely made contact when Haru had brought a hand up to his chest. He pushed him away as gently as he could. He was drunk, too drunk, but those words could not get out faster than Ilya's face fell. Complete and utter horror.

”No, Ilya, please wait! I love you, I do!”

It was too late. Ilya bent his head under the weight of his shame. He shoved him off so hard Haru stumbled into the nightstand, knocking the lamp onto its side. He grabbed at Ilya’s sleeve, tears streaming down his face, but Ilya shook him off once again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

His voice was layered with so much emotion it pierced Haru’s heart like a dagger. It was over. He humiliated him. He had humiliated himself. 

Ilya slammed the door shut in his escape. Haru ran after him, but lingered as he reached for the doorknob. He couldn’t run after him in the midst of the party. It would just have made things worse, much worse. He knew this, yet it took everything in him to not open that door and chase after him anyways. To tell him how much he loved him. How he didn’t want him to have any regrets about their first kiss being a drunk, crying mess. He couldn’t tell if it was the right or wrong thing to do. The heartbreak had crippled any logical thought or reason he could have come up with. It didn’t matter anymore.

He slid down the door as the floodgates opened up. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to even think through the sobs that tore through him. The banging at the door began as Emi shouted at him to move out of the way in-between asking what happened. Eventually he would let her in and eventually he would stop crying, but for now all he could do was lay down and hope he would sink into the floor. Into nothing. Never to be seen again.

[theoddest1]

I think the sad truth is that no one cares about actual lgbtq UNLESS they can make porn of it, animation and anime are big examples of this that’s why there’s so many yaoi fanfics and fanart because people can jerk off it. It’s why HB/HH is so aggressively horny because they know sex sells. HB/HH are weird shows because it’s a gay show that feels hetero? I can’t explain it it’s feels too safe? Like there��s sex only with men of course but it’s not through the lens of gay people it made by people who just get off to yaoi, it’s very insincere and superficial.

Queerty and WOW never catered to animation they’re brand has been drag race and people in the lgbtq community. That’s why there’s no pictures of HB or viv, since that was never queerty and WOW target demographic. So to see it up there with trixie and Katya was jarring, I wouldn’t be surprised if they needed more lgbtq nominees so they chose HB since it was the most popular and Jinkx did do voice acting for HB, but didn’t expect it to win. They most likely thought the two legendary drag queens were gonna win. The worst part is that they have no idea of the awful transphobia that runs amok in SH and how viv treated past trans friends.

This was my mindset as well. I had posted recently through an ask how apparently they didn't even tag Viv and such. They kinda just announced who won and seemingly moved on.

And regarding the way both her shows are handled, it's EXTREMELY fanficcy. To the point that Viv responded to the whole thing, calling it homophobic. Idk about you guys, but whenever Viv responds to something with anger, annoyance, or trying to disregard something, I think it's 100% because people hit too close to home and she FEELS that she needs to respond cause it's the most personal of attacks. Her saying that it's homophobic to call her works fanficcy is a clear example of a cord being struck.

Also, her argument here is so ass. "Well, it happens in other shows. How come they don't get hate?" Does she live under a FUCKING rock???

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group F, Round 3, Poll 4:

Propaganda under the cut

Tsurumi Tokushirou

in two words: "it's love". I was already insane about this guy but this line. just wow. the context is a flashback in which Tsurumi has been away fighting in the Sino-Japanese war and is now telling his dojo master that even trained soldiers are typically reluctant to kill another person and many will only pretend to fire their weapons. he spent a long time considering how you convince them to overcome that before figuring it out. "the motivating force that can bring out the aggressiveness in your soldiers... it isn't hatred of the enemy troops, nor is it fear... it isn't even a difference in political ideals. [what is it then?] it's love". this man is *surrounded* by soldiers who will do anything for him and you slowly see through multiple flashbacks just how much he has been pulling strings for *years* to make them love him. this particular flashback involves two fourteen year olds fighting over his attention until one of them kills the other and tsurumi helps cover up the murder and tells the murderer how *of course you have always been my favourite*. that kid goes on to work under him and when tsurumi draws on his face as a punishment he gets the drawings tattooed on so they stay forever. in another case he orchestrates the kidnapping of a different 14yo son of a navy commander by "Russians" (his loyal subordinates) and then pulls off a dashing rescue, earning the livelong military support of the dad and a major crush from the son. this kid chooses to go to army route rather than follow his dad into the navy, specifically because of tsurumi who he also ends up working for. he can't speak comprehensibly to tsurumi and edits himself into photos of him. case 3: while a soldier is away at war he crush appears to commit suicide by drowning in the sea. upon finding out that his dad told her he wasn't coming back, he beats him to death and ends up on death row. I forget exactly what info is revealed when but a) the woman is alive and tsurumi helped her move to Tokyo and get married, b) tsurumi planted fake bones under tsukishima's father's house to frame him for her murder, c) this then allowed tsukishima to be freed from jail, as long as he agreed to work for tsurumi as a Russian translator (he doesn't speak Russian at the time), d) tsukishima doesn't know all of this initially but tsurumi sets things up so he overhears a convo that reveals some of it so that he can know exactly what lengths tsurumi went to and feel even more in his debt, e) tsukishima later realises that conversation was set up and its purpose but *even with that knowledge* and being probably the character most aware of Tsurumi's manipulations, the pull is too strong and he will follow him to the ends of the earth. literally his only goal in life now is to have front row seats to the Tsurumi Theatre, which btw involves chasing convicts around to obtain their skins, wiping out entire prison populations and invading parts of Russia. he sometimes blames his erratic actions on the brain damage caused by a mortar shell to the forehead but he was doing all the same things before that, just more quietly. he knows *exactly* what he's doing and has everything planned out in detail

that post by @temp-propaganda because no way I can fit that all in propaganda section

Goncharov

He spends the entire film lying to and manipulating as many people as possible to achieve his ultimate goal (Katya is an obvious example; her having enough of that is a driving force behind their breaking relationship), and also including himself (insisting that he doesn't like Andrey when they're basically about to kiss anytime they're on screen). Also Gaslight Gatekeep Goncharov amiright

[ddagent]

@bluetrekker12: Can I add a future prompt for a role reversal - jealous Margo?

[This is jealous, pining Margo because why not?]

Margo hated networking. She hated this idea that her merit was judged based not on the calibre of her work but her ability to small talk. One would think that, in the Soviet Union, she would be judged solely on her ability to contribute to the space program. But Sergei had caught her in her office at the end of the day to make sure that she would be in attendance. It is a necessary part of the work we do, Margo. Do you have something to wear? I can ask my sister to lend you something.

She had shaken her head. I have a dress. She did: a single black dress from her days performing at 11:59. It was creased and a little shorter than was acceptable but it would do. Anything to avoid putting Sergei and his family out. Anything to avoid him putting the words Margo and sister in the same breath.

At the cocktail party, Margo fiddled with the hem. A few of the engineers who had worked on setting down Zvezda were eyeing her, straightening their ill-fitting suits and ties. Whispers behind raised hands, as there usually was when faced with the great American defector. Margo huffed. Fuck this. All she wanted to do was work in the space program. If the States wouldn't let her work because her mentor was a monster, then fine. If the Soviet Union wouldn't let her work because she wasn't polite at a cocktail party, then fine. She'd find somewhere else. She had to. Brazil could be interesting.

But before she could leave, a familiar voice cut through the party. "Margo!"

"Sergei!"

Sergei joined her in the corner where she had taken up post during this celebration of their work on the first Soviet base on the Moon. But he wasn't alone. Beside him was a striking woman, blonde, with a conservative red dress that was the appropriate length and had been pressed ahead of time. Sergei's hand was on the small of her back. Ah. The girlfriend. Sergei had mentioned Katya a few times. She was pretty.

Margo politely shook her hand. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Sergei talks about you a lot."

"As he does you. The incredible American engineer." Katya placed a possessive hand on Sergei's lapel. "I've heard on and on about how they should have kept you at NASA."

"Their loss."

Margo fiddled with the stem of her glass, trying not to read too much into Sergei speaking so highly of her. He was her team leader, the only person who had actually been kind since she had defected. Of course he would talk about his work to the person he cared about. The person he went home to while Margo slept on the floor of her cold office. And, yes, Margo was nursing a little crush on Sergei. She had never met someone who challenged her so readily, who pushed her further in her work. Who believed in her without trying to pull her down. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?

It was a shame it would never be reciprocated.

[justiceforplutoo]

a/n: I realized half-way through that this is less of an interpretation of canon, but more of an interpretation of an interpretation of canon. so, like, take this with a grain of salt? also this has slight nsfw (the characters connect sexual intercourse with gun violence and I wanted to examine that)

I'm sure that someone's said this before, but for me, the "his wife has filled the house with chintz" quote from Tumblr and the "of course I love you. I tried to shoot you" quote from Goncharov (1973) have the same energy.

His wife has filled the house with chintz. To keep it real, I fuck him on the floor.

In this reblog of "his wife", @headspace-hotel points out the contrast between the connotation here of chintz as something fake and flimsy and the idea of "fuck[ing] on the floor" as carnal and real.

The illicit encounter in the poem takes place within a house filled with facade, the flimsy construction of the wife’s marriage and domestic sphere, but the encounter itself is a taste of something “real.”

KATYA: Of course we're in love. That's why I tried to shoot you. GONCHAROV: If we were really in love, you wouldn’t have missed.

I really like this interpretation of Katya's death scene, written by @frstcorinthians. The way I read it, it feels like she says, "Of course we're in love," almost sarcastically, or even mockingly.

I'd like to point out that Katya only shoots at Goncharov because he shot at her first. "Katya is a good shot. Almost perfect, even. But now, the bullet goes wide; she sees it skim past Goncharov’s temple. They're one for one." In this violence/love metaphor I'm using here... Katya can love. She loves brilliantly. But for Goncharov, she misses (can't reciprocate). It's clearly different for Goncharov. He explicitly says (in canon!), "If we were really in love, you wouldn't have missed," before shooting her in the neck. A perfect shot.

I think that Katya engages in relationship with Goncharov because she wants to prove that they are equals. One for one - you shoot me, I shoot you - you love me, I love you. But Goncharov really does love Katya; likewise, he really does shoot her.

I feel like Katya is taking Goncharov's love (house) and turning it into a game (filling it with chintz).

I also want to bring this quote (from the fic) to focus:

She doesn’t feel the bullet go into her, not really. All she feels is a vague sense of warmth in the juncture of her neck and shoulder and the exchange of the bullet’s motion pushed into her body. Not so different from sex, then. Here, as there, she goes with the force Goncharov enters into her, relaxed.

So, with the idea that the bullet is some sort of metaphor for penetration, and then we know that Katya doesn't really feel the energy of that bullet versus...

He feels Andrey’s hands around his shoulder as he eases him down to the ground. In his final moments, he thinks he feels Andrey’s thumb stroke gently across his shoulder. Maybe it’s his dying mind’s attempts to self-preserve, a flashback to the night before Goncharov’s wedding, when Andrey’s thumb made the same motion in their post-coital bliss.

... this connection of the intimacy between Andrey and Goncharov? Katya doesn't seem to feel this intimacy, but Goncharov seems to feel it about Andrey. When Katya compares the bullet to penetration, it's because she thinks that both are insignificant.

Goncharov doesn't compare the act of killing to intercourse, instead he compares the intimacy of betrayal and intercourse. Andrey's betrayal feels intimate to Goncharov. It feels real.

So if Katya is filling the house with chintz by not reciprocating Goncharov's love/bullet, Andrey is keeping it real by fucking him (stabbing him) on the floor (the bridge).

[katyspersonal]

Hello Katya, do you have any ideas about Simple Gratia?

....

Yes, my girl!! I have some observations AND ideas! I remember that back when I checked, a fan Wiki incorrectly said that she is wearing Yharnam Hunter set. I do not know whether they've fixed that since then or not, but I know it confused a few artists. Gratia, in reality, is wearing an Old Hunter set but slightly altered:

(Close images of her model are from this ( x ) page, datamined by AstralLace!) This is what an Old Hunter set looks like, for a reminder:

Gratia is an Old Hunter: the type that started under Gehrman like Maria, Vitus, Henryk, Djura, Bestial Hunter, all that. I think that she knew all these characters and more, and with Maria she was a lot like an older sister that Maria never had! But I think she would be genuinely annoyed by Djura's complex inventions and at times not be able to hide her disdain, right in the middle of Djura ranting about them! That'd spark stupid, petty arguments about what kind of weapon is "better" which their friends laugh at in the corner like hyenas until Gehrman or Maria separate them XD

In comparison with the generic set, she is missing the long flowing cape, as well as the glove on her left hand. Her weapon, a chunk of metal, also goes in the left hand. I think she is missing the glove to have a stronger grip on the metal, so it would not slip away! I wondered what her right hand weapon would be before, but I think she doesn't need one in the end! I imagine her staggering the beast with her Iron Fist and then TEARING THEIR HEAD OFF WITH HER FREE HAND DFJHFSHSD .....but, you know, a hammer or a mace would also be nice yeah sure

In Bloodborne setting, red hair is also highlighted as a trait of Cainhurst nobles, that isn't really seen in any other NPC. Edgar may be also a ginger but much brighter kind, certainly not a REDhead!

This makes me think: what if Gratia's red hair is not just a random design choice, but a hint? And even if it isn't, it can still be used for a headcanon! Cainhurst nobles descend from Pthumeru Ihyll and have some Pthumerian heritage (just in case here ( x ) is the post with evidences of it) 🤔 At the same time, Pthumerians have gigantic variants, that seem to be more slow and dim than 'regular' ones. And interestingly, Gratia is abnormally big AND stated to have some intellectual drawbacks:

So, she has 1) otherwise Cainhurst-exclusive hair color 2) a size abnormally large for a human and 3) correlation between inability to use guns and being 'dim'! This gave me a headcanon that she was born in the Cainhurst walls, but shown Pthumerian genes that were "undesired" in the eyes of snobbish nobles and thus, abandoned at birth. She never knew of her origins, but was adopted by a kind man! Yeah, in this context, Maria and Gratia feeling family-like bond almost from the start in kind of fateful!

^ I often draw her with the same body pattern that shows on the skin of Snatchers, and that is exactly what kind of descendant she is!

I also always liked the idea that Gratia, Simon and Yamamura were the 'detective friends' up to uncover the Healing Church's secrets! Later, I decided the Yahar'gul Hunter we find in the prison under Grand Cathedral should also be a part of the squad! I did not know that Simon interestingly had Fist of Gratia as a part of his equipment back then and only judged from their location, but that made me feel validated with that headcanon! xD

Gratia is, of course, more of a 'power' of the team! She might be not very smart, but she has her heart in a good place and can understand the concept of shady bad business that should be stopped. She is easy to deceive in terms of pranks and other remotely innocent things, but when someone lying to her or trying to use her is malicious she will sense it. Pair that with her being very brave and blunt, and you really don't want to mess with her! The girl could grab Laurence and slam him against the wall accusing him of being "full of shit" if he attempted to deceive her, ffs! And not even his friends would defend him because it IS his fault for playing with this tigress x)

Needless to mention that she is protective over her friends! Not a kind of a protective friend that will mindlessly jump into fighting the other guy, but someone that will walk in and give them a fair warning to get lost first. She has threatening aura and usually just that is enough to scare away a person that means no good to someone she cares about. But, when she is powerless to do anything against some prick in power or likewise, she will express her frustration by breaking a property on her way out xd

Also she gives me this vibe:

Thank you for an ask! :D She has a very vivid and fleshed out image in my mind! Funny enough, this makes describing her harder because she feels so self-explanatory for me!

[silvertiefling]

Puck may not be a jealous person per se, but he can act possessive, if provoked at juuuust the right time in just the right way.

❝ The next man that gropes your ass will be drawn & quartered in the streets, and that is a promise. ❞

He is absolutely drenched in blood not his own, equally bloodied ax tightly gripped in his hands. His eyes still flash with malice. ❝ You are MY girl. ❞

UNPROMPTED (based off this post) // @bloodtwin

KATYA IS ALMOST TOO HORNY TO FUNCTION. Which is entirely Puck's fault and she won't hear any other reasoning for it. Because surely seeing her lover covered in blood, bloody weapon in hand, defending her honor and then calling her his girl was enough to turn any sane person on an absurd amount - right?

She ignores the totally insane look in his eyes and purrs, wrapping her arms around his neck, looking up at him fondly.

"Of course, darlin', whatever you say - "

[petrovna-zamo]

omg would you be able to post the katya & mik pic separately as well please? (its ok if you dont want to lol pls ignore me if so) (also thank you for always posting katya updates!! ❤️)

Of course! Just posted it 🤗 and thank you for always making such amazing gifs!

Btw I got the photo from this website:

They posted the upcoming guest schedule for season two if anyone is interested!

Episodes drop every Thursday at 10 am PST on YouTube and Spotify has the uncensored version

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

Emoji, questionmark

Katya receives a special text from Natasha, who is very... appreciative of her muscles.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 3.1k • Warnings: suggestive • A/N: thank you so much for your patience as I took a bit of a break from writing! I hope to post more now :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

Katya

"Thanks again, Kat!"

The last of Katya's students left the training room, taking their water bottles and positive energy with them. 

It had been another good day at the women-only gym, and Katya lingered around to clean up, in no rush to get home. She looked up and smiled at the goodbye, giving a small wave to Sandra, who got more confident in her own skin every week. 

"Till next week!"

When the room was empty, Katya did a small lap around to look for any forgotten items or water spills, ending up where she started; at the portable speaker nestled in the corner. Her phone lay next to it, connected to the bluetooth device. 

Pulling the hair tie from her sweaty, oily hair, Katya picked it up. It unlocked to several missed messages from the last two hours—she rarely checked messages between classes, and not at all in classes. That's not the type of vibe she wanted to give off.

There were some notifications from her social media, a text from Laura thanking her for the flowers she sent for her and Clint's wedding anniversary, one from Maya saying she picked up cat food. 

And, of course, a text from her wife.

They were so… pathetically connected that they missed the other instantly when they were apart. 

Natasha had some errands to run in the city? Katya sat on the couch, sulking, anticipating her return. Katya was at work all day? Natasha texted her more often than usual about stuff that didn't matter in the slightest just because she was thinking about her the whole time. 

The only time they were ever fully at ease was when they were together. Maya made fun of them for it, but Katya was quick to point out that the past had given them enough reason to feel that way. Unexpectant time apart, years where they thought the other was dead. It left deep scars in their fragile hearts and separation anxiety in their stomachs.

For obvious reasons, Katya had message previews for Natasha's chats off, in case anyone needed to use her phone. She only saw what her wife texted her when she opened the chat. 

Katya snorted out loud in the empty room. Caught off guard by the embarrassed sound that came out of her own mouth, she quickly looked around, but the only one staring at her was the reflection of herself in the large mirror wall.

Smugness drew a smirk across her mouth, ego puffing out her chest. Natasha was the best hypewoman, even when her reasons were entirely selfish. Nobody loved Katya's physique more than her, and she made sure to let her know every chance she got, both verbal and non-verbal. The non-verbal worshipping was both their favorite. 

Natasha's message consisted of one emoji and one punctuation mark. Not an uncommon thing in itself. A food item with a question mark meant; can you pick this up, or can we have this for dinner? A cat or a ginger-haired girl with a question mark meant; where is the cat, and where is Maya? Any of those things with an exclamation mark meant; don't forget to pick it up. 

It was an important distinction. 

But there were no doubts on what Natasha meant this time. It was very, very clear what she wanted. Shamelessly too.

The flexed arm emoji combined with the question mark meant she was most probably horny, and most definitely mentally drifting.

Katya snickered as she locked and pocketed her phone, collecting the last of her stuff before closing the door of the training room behind her. Usually, she would head straight for the office or to the car, but now she took a detour to the machines. 

Smiling and greeting people, she did a few quick stretches before grabbing a set of weights. With no pre-workout taken, no warmup of any kind, she sat down and started a quick bicep and shoulder routine. 

The goal today wasn't to get a correct workout in. The goal was to pump her muscles so her wife could get her fix. 

She was barely sweaty by the time she stopped, but she had no patience to continue. By now, Natasha would have seen that she'd been left on delivered and would be waiting on what she asked for. The woman was a lot of things, but patient wasn't high up in that list. 

Katya was in and out of the machine room within fifteen minutes, hurrying to find a mirror before her hard work was lost. Luckily, there was another pro to an all-women gym: incredible bathroom lighting. None of that dark, mysterious stuff where you feel like you're in a cave. No, the mirrors on the walls were huge and lined with lights. 

Katya made sure the stalls were empty before propping her phone up on the sink, next to the gym-provided perfumes and deodorant. Quickly, she took her hoodie off and turned with her back to the camera, redoing her ponytail to ensure a maximal view of her shoulders and back.

It felt odd in the beginning to take pics like these, when Natasha first started asking for them. But Katya quickly found out that it wasn't very different from the nudes she sent her. Natasha found her sexy and hot no matter what pose or position she was in, as long as she could see what she wanted to see. Don't overthink it.

She snapped some pictures from different angles, capturing different muscle groups, and tried some new poses she found online from the fitgirls she followed. They didn't turn out amazing, but they would satiate Natasha for now. When footsteps approached the bathroom door, Katya hid the evidence of her activities by snatching her phone off the sink, but Brianna took one look at her and smiled knowingly.

"Documenting your progress?" She asked, picking the sink next to Katya's to wash her hands. Her hair wasn't in box braids this time, instead in a bun on the back of her head. She looked gorgeous whatever way she wore it. 

"They're not for me," Katya answered distractedly, flipping through the photos to pick the best ones, deleting some that were too mediocre. She had to admit, her body looked good.

"Ah." Brianna smirked, taking a quick peek at the phone screen. "What the wife wants, the wife gets."

"Exactly." Katya mirrored her expression and sent the three best pics off to Natasha without any context, then she pocketed her phone and turned to her boss. "I think this means I have to get home ASAP."

"Get some."

Katya snickered. "I think I will."

Natasha

Natasha had been feeling like this all day; clingy, needy. Usually, she was the first one out of bed in the mornings. Today, she wouldn't let Katya get up to go to work. It almost made her late.

These phases of hers came and went. One week, she followed Katya everywhere like a baby duck. The next, she sought out solitude in her office upstairs. 

They made it work no matter what mood she was in, but Natasha couldn't help but dread the moments she was alone when she felt clingy. With Maya at school, and no distractions, she started to think about stupid stuff, like if this was how it felt to be on your period. Emotional and needy. 

She just missed Katya. Like a dog misses its owner. She wanted hugs; a warm, strong body to nestle into. She wanted to be taken care of; for Katya to bring her tea and wrap a blanket around her. 

She would tell her all of this, but Natasha didn't like to bother her too much when she was at work. It was only eight hours, and she was a big girl. 

Nevertheless, after trying everything to put her mind off it, Natasha wound up looking through her camera roll for pictures of her wife. If anyone ever found or hacked her phone, they'd think she was a stalker. She had folders for everything, sorted alphabetically, and filled to the brim with pictures of Katya.

'Kat on holiday'. 'Family'. 'Kat doing stuff'. 'Kat candid pics'. Natasha even had a 'this is my wife'-folder, because she always managed to work Katya into any conversation and would then proudly show her off to anyone. This folder was filled with Katya's prettiest pictures. 

Natasha paused with her thumb hovering above the last folder, hidden at the bottom of the screen. Going into her camera roll, her goal was simply to daydream innocently and to fill that Katya-shaped hole in her day. But if she clicked on that folder, her brain was going to take a very aggressive U-turn onto a road that steered straight off a cliff.

Oh well, it'd give her something to do.

'Kat's muscle pics', was, obviously, filled with pictures of Katya's muscles; ones the brunette sent herself, posed, or quick snaps Natasha took. Most of them were lucky shots. Candid pics turned muscle pics. Katya's strong legs in shorts, her arms in a tank top, her abs in a bikini, her back in a strapless dress. Anything where her incredible muscles were highlighted.

If Maya didn't have the code to her phone, Natasha would have named the folder something more worthy. 'Muscle mommy', maybe. 

But the mediocre name didn't stop Natasha from enjoying the content thoroughly. She stopped at every pic, took her time, zoomed in, shifted in her seat if one really got to her. But they didn't seem to be hitting like they usually did. With a frown, she scrolled back to the most recent picture, finding the date to confirm her thoughts. 

It dated back 3 weeks. 3 weeks! Way too long. 

Upset—and a bit pissed—she backed out of the app and found her chat with Katya. It was truly outrageous that she hadn't been supplied with fresh content for twenty-one whole days. Shocking that she had to ask for it herself. Part of her was too proud to, but the bigger part needed new pics right now. 

Quickly, she found the arm emoji—which wasn't even in her recents anymore, unlike the peach and the scissors—and threw a big, fat question mark behind it. Only one, because she wanted to tell Katya in person how pissed she was. Then she sent the text.

Waiting was torture. Natasha even went on a run to pass the time, music blasting in her eardrums instead of the usual audiobook or podcast. But there were no notifications when she came back home, or showered, or made herself a snack. 

She was ready to throw her phone across the room and roll up into a blanket ball on the couch when the status of her text changed from 'delivered' to 'seen'. Hopeful and excited, Natasha sat up, intently staring at the screen. She wasn't disheartened when Katya went offline again without replying. Her wife never ignored her, so something must be coming soon.

She fumbled for her phone when it chimed, her heart racing as she opened the pictures Katya finally sent her. It wasn't just one. It wasn't two. It was three.

Saliva pooled in her mouth as she studied them. Closely. Every ridge, every rounding, every curve of Katya's upper body. Her phone was only inches away from her face, too scared to miss anything like she didn't have free access to those muscles 24/7.

The pictures were perfect. They were sexy, so sexy. They were feminine yet masculine. Elegant yet tough. The perfect combination. A woman who could rock a dress and be a gentlewoman, and strangle a man to protect her. 

The need to feel the muscles underneath her fingertips slowly grew. It was a weird mix of horniness and loneliness. To have those strong arms around her in a hug, or to desperately hold them as Katya ruined her? 

Liho meowed as she jumped on the couch, sniffing Natasha's phone as if she wanted a piece of Katya too.

"Look at your other mom," Natasha said to her in her baby-voice full of awe, showing the cat the pictures like Liho had any clue what she should be looking at. The animal just meowed again. "I agree, baby. So gorgeous. So sexy. And all mine."

Natasha's thumb drifted towards the call-button—she needed to hear Katya's voice. She couldn't keep staring at the pictures that were sent without any context. She needed more. Anything. But right before she tapped, three dots appeared at the bottom of her screen. 

Kat: Leaving now. See you soon x.

Katya

Katya walked into the house with caution like the spy she once was, dropping her shoes and bag along the way. 

When Natasha didn't reply to the pictures, she knew what time it was. Actually, she knew what time it was when she asked for muscle pictures. Only a needy Natasha would do that. And Katya knew, based on the millions of Instagram Reels her wife had also sent her today, that it wasn't just a regular horny episode either. Natasha was lonely.

The thought made her heart swell. They'd been together for most of their lives, yet Natasha still wanted to spend all of their time together if they could. Only then did she feel completely content and happy. She wasn't very good at verbally telling Katya that, but there were huge signs if you knew where to look. Like her behavior today.

Just in time, Katya stopped herself from chuckling when she stepped into the living room. Natasha sat on the couch like an angry child, scowling pettily and refusing to look away from the TV. She clearly wasn't happy with Katya's lack of attention today and wanted to teach her a lesson for it. Silent treatment was therein her lesson of choice.

"Пр��вет, милая (Hello, honey)," Katya said slowly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorpost. The Russian was on purpose and came as a complete surprise to Natasha, who stiffened slightly. The words always hit just a little deeper if Katya switched back to their first language. "Почему ты дуешься (Why are you pouting)?"

Natasha looked conflicted, not sure what emotion to act on. One, anger; two, horniness; three, clinginess. She thought long and hard about her answer, not moving an inch as she did, pretending her wife was air. 

"I've been neglected," she accused Katya coldly. A good answer. It covered all three of her emotions.

Katya pushed away from the doorpost, slowly approaching her frozen wife. Like one would a scared cat. "I'm sorry, baby. That was never my intention." If Natasha listened closely—and Katya knew she did—then she could hear the amusement in her voice. That's probably the reason for the side-eye Natasha gave her when she sat down next to her. "How can I make it up to you?"

It didn't appear as if Natasha was going to answer. She stayed silent for so long, her steel expression directed at the TV, that Katya nearly gave up. A minute longer and she'd have stood up to prepare some sweet gesture. But then Natasha slowly leaned into her. 

It was barely noticeable if Katya wasn't hyper aware of her to begin with. But slowly, very slowly, her wife's body tilted her way. When Katya opened her arms, it went faster, until Natasha was fully resting against her chest. Eagerly, Katya wrapped her arms around her body. Natasha didn't fully relax; silent protest.

"For now," she said warningly, before Katya got too happy.

The brunette frowned. She was still happy, don't get her wrong, but hugs weren't exactly what she expected when she drove home. "Does—"

"Sex later."

Of course, Natasha read her mind. 

Katya hummed in acknowledgement, like it didn't make her incredibly excited. Natasha would push her off the couch if she set one foot wrong. Instead, she rubbed her shoulder carefully while Natasha kept pretending to watch the TV. If the redhead wanted to be stubborn a little longer, then Katya was going to let her. She could contain her own neediness for a long, long time.

Natasha's phone was safely tucked between her thighs, anxiously. How big were the chances that Katya's pictures would pop up if she unlocked it? She was too scared for her hand to find out. 

"Did you like them?" She asked, failing to hide the smugness in her voice. The thin ice she tread on cracked beneath her feet.

"They'll do," Natasha answered, uninterested.

Katya nearly snorted, but she settled for a half smirk Natasha couldn't even see. "You know, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you like them.''

"I said, they'll do," the redhead corrected sharply.

"Okay."

Natasha's scowl deepened when she heard how sarcastic that answer was. Anyone walking in would think the TV personally offended her. "Stop being so cocky."

"You don't think I have a reason to be?"

"I didn't say that."

"You don't like it?"

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"I wish I was putting something else in—" Natasha's death glare cut her off. It was brief, but powerful, and the woman settled right back into Katya's chest afterwards.

"You have the right to be cocky, but you still irritate me," Natasha mumbled through gritted teeth. 

Katya dared to smile after the fear left her system. "Why?"

"Because you know damn well what it does to me, and it's unfair to have so much power over me."

It took all her willpower not to chuckle. Katya magically managed to keep her body still too. But it was going to be her words that would trigger Natasha. "Aw, is this your power struggle-struggle again?"

It was finally too much. With an angry huff, the woman pushed away from her, a dangerous fire flickering behind her eyes that matched the fiery color of her hair. She was absolutely stunning. "I would be very careful if I were you. What you say or do next could determine your near future and if you'll still have one."

This would be terrifying for anybody else in Katya's position. Even Clint would think this was a good time to shut up, but it was Katya's goal to rile her up as much as she could. Because the only way Natasha was going to let it out was by destroying her later. In a good way. Upstairs. 

She shrugged indifferently, scooting to the edge of her seat. "You want to live the rest of your life alone? Okay.'' Before she could lift her butt off the couch, she was yanked down by the front of her shirt. One blink of her eyes and Natasha was on top of her, her fingers digging into the tight muscles of her arms. Katya bit back a smirk. She knew the pictures hit her hard.

''You're not going anywhere.''

[secretly-of-course]

Steve Week Day 2: Bike

I've actually wanted to draw this comic for a while lol and today's theme gave me the perfect reason.

[image ID: a four panel comic beginning with the BATs performing in Bonesborough. An Emperor's Coven member yells at them, "You're under arrest!" The BATs yell, "Run!" In the second panel, an unmasked Steve sits on his bike looking at Penstagram. A note pointing to him reads "On his day off or something (shrug)." In the background Katya is running towards him. In the third panel, Katya jumps on the back of Steve's bike. Her mask has fallen off and he is very startled. In the fourth panel, Katya is now on the bike with Steve, who is blushing, and she shouts, "Drive! Fucking Drive!" End comic.]

Inspiration and a couple fun details beneath the cut!

Inspiration:

[ID: a text post that reads, "Everyone's grandparents seem to have really cute stories of how they met, and like my grandparents met when my grandma was running away from police during a protest and she jumped on the back of my grandads motorcycle and just screamed "DRIVE FUCKING DRIVE." ]

I am actually 12 years old

[image ID: The statue of Belos in the background of panel 1 is giving the middle finger.]

And a cameo from me!

[ID: a close up of Steve's scroll, towards the bottom of the screen is a post from @/secretly-of-course and a cropped picture of a person waving.]

[therealmrteapot]

Now here's some oc lore:

Alexei Krasnov! (Most of my posts will be abt him I love my silly so much)

Alexei Krasnov was born in Lipetsk, under the name of Anastasia Katya Krasnov, in February 1985. Born to parents Katya and Anatoly Krasnov, younger sister to Mikhail Andrey Krasnov, who was 7 years old at the time. Alexei lived in a large house with his grandmother (Tatyana Krasnov), Aunts (Lilya Krasnov and Maria Makarov), Uncle (Anatoly Makarov), and cousin (Vladimir Makarov). When Alexei was 1, his mother was killed by a group of drunk teenagers throwing bricks through windows, blunt force trauma to the head. It was only her, Alexei, Mikhail and Vladimir at home at the time, though 10 minutes following her death, the children were found by Lilya. Alexei was 6 when the USSR fell, and the family watched it together on the TV. Anatoly Krasnov decided to move to England, as Russia was becoming unsafe for his children. It took a while to save up enough money to move to England and buy a house there, but when Alexei was 11, they finally left, leaving behind the life that they knew. Alexei was heartbroken at having to leave his large family, as was Mikhail. They moved to Huyton, in England, and Alexei was immediately enrolled into the school there.

This is where he met Price. For the first few weeks of his time at the English school, Alexei (Anastasia at the time) was assigned to Price, since he was still bad with his English and overall needed someone patient enough to stick with him while he adjusts. Price's friends, Lucy, Will and Norman, quickly took a liking to Alexei, as did Price, and Alexei ended up sticking with them all throughout school. They went through everything together, supporting each other through their struggles and enjoying their youth as a whole. Until Alexei fell in love with Price. He tried to keep it all under wraps, with mostly success. No one caught on, despite Price himself having some suspicions. As for realising that he identifies as a man, there was no big 'wow' moment until he was 16. And to him, it wasn't a big deal. Not at all. His friends accepted him. They always did, with... Everything. His dream to be a ballet dancer. His likes. His dislikes. They started calling him Alexei, and the name stuck. And everything stayed hidden from his father.

When he was 17, Price started talking about joining the army. SAS. And Alexei was terrified. The thought of being away from Price made him nauseous. Physically nauseous. But Price was determined. It was what he wanted to do. So Alexei signed up with him. Threw his dreams and life aside. After all, he couldn't see a future for himself without Price. Without his beloved. They were placed in the same regiment, kept together for that sense of brief familiarity before they were hurled into the world of war. They trained together, ate together, joked together. And Alexei fell even deeper in love with Price. Of course, things can't be perfect forever. Alexei was assigned a mission. A solo mission, to collect intel on someone they were looking for. He was known for his stealth, after all. But he got caught. Caught and cornered with nowhere to run.

Alexei found himself tied to a chair in a dingy room that reeked of damp and sweat. He didn't know that that's where he'd spend the next few days, hours being passed by his captors tilting back his chair to pour acid over his skin, forced to listen to the sizzle of the strong hydrogen peroxide on his skin. Bruises littered his skin, painted over with blood. They hit him over the head with random things. They even cut his cheek open to try taking out his teeth. They never did. He needed those if he were to give him any information. In the end, after a week of this torture, they threw his bloody, broken body outside, leaving him to die. He was clearly useless to them, especially in what seemed to be a fake amnesia state. So Alexei was left to limp through fields alone for 3 days alone with only contaminated river water to drink.

Eventually, a KorTac soldier found him, laying half-dead on the ground. They brought him back to their base, deciding against taking him to an actual hospital. He stayed for two weeks before running away. He didn't want to stay with them at all. He fled to Usinsk, using what he had of his inheritance from his grandmother to buy some private land and a large house. Angry and bitter, he decided to take revenge in a unique way that didn't involve harming Price or those Price loved. He went to Belarus and bailed out a girl who had been arrested for murdering the man who sa'd her little sister. Lucinda Boki. He taught her to fight properly, taught her military discipline, and began to bail out other outlaws, those punished for petty crimes, of course. He cares deeply for his team of misfits, and puts them above all else, including his own survival.

Just his backstory, I'll do more with him soon <3