#sykes the dog

[partywithponies]

The way I can see like 2 seconds of footage of a dog in a late 00s film and instantly be like "Sykes?". And then look it up and be right every time.

[squideo]

Advert Alchemy: Thinkbox’s Trick

In this series, Squideo has examined the best ways to turn advertising content into gold. Now that we’ve broken down the eight key ingredients, it’s time to dive deep into some examples of stellar advertising. This week, the advert in question was picked by Squideo’s Video Producer, Lesley Ovington.

When asked why this Thinkbox advert had become her favourite, Lesley said: “I love the entire series with Harvey because it’s so funny. I also had a Jack Russell Terrier growing up, and these adverts always reminded me of him. The entire series is great but the first one, Every Home Needs a Harvey, remains the best.”

101 Thinkbox

Thinkbox is unlike other companies analysed in this series, as it’s a marketing body for commercial television in the United Kingdom. Since 2005, Thinkbox has existed to manage the advertising for British TV channels and help businesses marketing on these networks meet their marketing objectives.

It’s shareholders are four major UK television networks: Channel 4, ITV, Sky Media and UKTV. As the trade body for these hugely popular networks, Thinkbox has needed to think outside the box when enticing businesses to advertise. All of these channels have hugely successful shows linked to them, and the advertising produced by Thinkbox had to match the creative energy of its shareholders.

Raining Cats and Thinkbox

Made with Red Brick Road, the advertising agency behind the iconic ‘Every Little Helps’ Tesco slogan, Thinkbox aired its Every Home Needs a Harvey advert in 2010 – five years after the trade body was created and was still relatively unknown to the general public. Every Home Needs a Harvey was only their second television advert ever; the first also made by Red Brick Road. According to the agency, the brief from Thinkbox was to educate media planners and marketing directors about the power of TV advertising.

“‘Harvey’ was born – a resourceful, talented dog, who uses TV to tell stories and to persuade. His first TV outing, created by us in 2010, was voted Ad of the Year by ITV1 viewers. TV ad revenues reached a record £5bn in 2014, continuing 5 years of successive growth.”

Television has seen a lot of competition in recent years as an advertising destination, especially as more viewers move away from television to advert-free streaming platforms. Comparatively cheaper adverts can also be run on social media, with algorithms used to ensure it ends up in front of the ideal demographic for your product. As Red Brick Road proves, however, revenue can still be generated from television adverts. Businesses invested £1.2 billion GBP in television advertising in 2021, a 42% increase in spending compared to 2020. With the cost-of-living crisis forcing consumers to unsubscribe from costly streaming services, this revenue may grow further as viewers return to public networks like Channel 4 and ITV.

Thinkbox & Me

ITV1 viewers named Every Home Needs a Harvey Ad of the Year in 2010, and Red Brick Road went on to produce two additional Harvey adverts for Thinkbox between 2010 and 2014. The advert was clearly popular when it aired, but that was thirteen years ago. What was it about this advert that stuck in the memories of so many people?

Super Sell

Show don’t tell. That’s what Thinkbox accomplished by running Every Home Needs a Harvey. What better way to demonstrate the power of advertising than to create an advert about advertising. In the advert, Harvey presents a video to his potential adopters which sells the idea of choosing him amongst the line up of rescue dogs. The other dogs look cute, but the video shows everything else Harvey can offer.

To marketers watching the advert, it also showed what television marketing still had to offer. Times have changed, and mass public adverts are no longer constrained to intermission breaks, newspapers and billboards. As we explored in Advert Alchemy: The Location, modern marketers have an overwhelming choice of advertising destinations from social media to video games to eggs (that’s not a typo, CBS put adverts on eggs in 2006, go read the blog if you haven’t already). But television adverts haven’t been chased off the stage, advertisers just need to be more creative to attract attention away from phone screens.

Heavenly Harvey

The star of the advert, Harvey, was played by Sykes, a dog actor who appeared in Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Young Victoria and Doctor Who, as well as other notable films and television shows. In the year of his debut advert, he also acted in a John Smith’s Brewery advert alongside Peter Kay.

In the wake of the advert, Sykes’ Facebook page had 11,600 friends and he was getting offers to open pet shops around the country. Not bad for a rescue dog. He eventually retired in 2016 after going deaf, ending Thinkbox’s Harvey adverts in the process. Because who could follow such a good boy?

Monumental Music

Set to the 1974 song You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet by Canadian rock band Bachman-Turner Overdrive, the audience – like Harvey’s potential adopters – are quickly hooked into watching the advert. Like Cadbury’s Gorilla advert, the choice of such a popular song cannot be underestimated in the success of this advert.

The song peaked at number 2 in the UK singles charts the year of its release, beaten to the top by a Christmas song (Lonely This Christmas, Mud), which surprised the band who had been reluctant to release the song. You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet was introduced to a new generation in the mid-2000s thanks to one of Thinkbox’s shareholders: ITV. The network used the song for several years during its coverage of Formula One grand prix races, which reignited sales of this insanely catchy single thirty years after its release.

Content Worth Gold

What do you think? What made Thinkbox’s Every Home Needs a Harvey advert so successful? Watch the full advert below and let us know in the comments.

[loz37]

Period drama week 2023-

Lady Violet Crawley (Maggie Smith), the absolute queen of Downton Abbey. What more can be said?

Best line: I'm a woman Mary, I can be as contrary as I choose.

Day 6: Favourite characters.

William Buxton (Tom Hiddleston), Cranfords resident dog dad. Have to give a shout out to Sykes, Hiddles may have been my teenage crush but he will forever be my favourite actor RIP.

Best trait: Hopeless romantic.

Elizabeth Butler (Charlie Murphy) she has it all talent to sing, brains to train as a doctor, born into money yet has a heart for those "beneath" her. Truly embodies the spirit of Rebellion, I wish she was in the second series or at least had more than that one line mention.

Best feat: Joined the Easter rising faught and healed, all while looking stunning in her wedding dress.

This is in no particular order appart from definitely number 1.

Best line: Wouldn't dream of it *sassiest head wobble known to mankind*

Captain Declan Fraser (Frank Blake), Sanditon season twos real heartthrob. Them eyes you could swim in with the sarcastic smile, why did any of the ladies look at anyone else? Heroic, intelligent, dry sense of humour and sensitive to boot. Austinesque swoonwodthyness at its peak.

Abigail Hill (Emma Stone), so pure yet so evil, no wonder she is The Favourite. Amazing characterisation, still can't figure out if I love or loath her but I'm here for it.

Greatest feat: Changes the course of a war whilst holding the position of a maid.

Benadict Bridgerton (Luke Thompson). If Colin is the labrador of the family, Benadict is the cat. Appreciative of the finer things in life, values aesthetics, is willing to play by his own rules and is very loving to his family (I especially love his relationship with Eloise, he doesn't understand her struggles but he still wants to listen and share a cheeky cig).

Best line: Poetry is the art of revealing precious truth with words.

[kissandships]

How did they not bust out laughing?

[fancyhats-and-fennelsbuds]

Oh no Padraic, from the Bi-Queer Polycule-d family member you instantly deyassificated into the cringe uncle

This wholly started from this drawing

Also i must say the second panel came to my mind after that scene from Ice Age with Manny menacingly asking Sid to pooopy check the baby

[onemillionfurries]

Look at my boy Syke

I love him

[the-gentler-gamester]

I am doggo

[idontliketomatoesleavemealone]

small Ben. ..

[mumble-muse]

midsomer murders is so wild. one sec you're watching a man get run over by a tank. the next a touching moment by the grave of a character killed off between seasons (i.e. the dog)

[big-cat-s]

[emkini]

Sketching out pieces I care about and have big plans for sucks so bad because a) i can’t play fast and loose with anatomy/fabric folds/what have you and b) the moment I start caring about something is the moment my artistic ability takes a nosedive

[hannahpixiesnowdomsykooo]

[toonfinatic]

My autism brain made a connection that the main villain from Oliver and Company who owns dobermans is named Bill Sykes and that there's a doberman in Silver Fang named Bill. This would be a horrible crossover

[fancyhats-and-fennelsbuds]

"Will you help him, the little pilot?"

*The faves getting zapped by "Wes Anderson's Isle of Dogs beam"* Specks of life, sadness and soul-wretching analysis about the self, will ensue.

Our heroes pack it's composed by: Helga: German Shepherd Clayton: Pointer Sykes: (maybe a bigger dog breed would have been more suited, but I couldn't help but have fun with the more predictable choice) Dobermann Pincher Rourke: Rottweiler

Bursts of creative madness comes in the most unexpected crossovers mmm

[seaslugfanclub]

bestie, beloved mutual, Neptune, I have for real been getting hit on at work by creepy older men and sometimes women multiple times a day, so I was wondering if you could do the more romantically inclined villains witnessing y/n having to deal with several of these people within a short amount of time? You could do any writing style that comes to mind, this is just my way of coping :D ily!!(platonic)

{if this is out of your comfort zone, please message me and kill me :)}

Omg I am so sorry you have to deal with that, as someone who’s had the same experience, I totally understand your frustration. Hang in there pookie ❤️

Villains reaction to (Y/N) being creeped on

TW: old man being creepy/harassment (stay safe everyone)

—————————————

During their time at Disney Parks, the Villain’s realized they aren’t the most evil people there

There was this older park attendant working in the same branch as (Y/N) and of course, in typical creep fashion he. would. not. leave. (Y/N). alone.

When they clock in for work “Good Morning (Y/N), I was thinking about you last night.”

During (Y/N)’s lunch break, he’d try to sit across from them. “I saw some kid spill her drink all over you, I have an extra shirt in my locker if you’d like to come with me and get it.”

God, even when they’re both supervising interactions with the Villains “I noticed that new Mickey Mouse pin on your chest, I should call you ‘my little Disney girl’”

All of this was enough for the Villains to notice, and if they’re existence wasn’t dependent on Disney, they would’ve flayed this guy the moment he made eye contact with (Y/N)

Each Villain has seen at least one instance of (Y/N)’s coworker hitting on them, and they all have their own idea of how to deal with the creep

Hades wants to tie the creep to the top of the magic castle and let the seagulls eat his liver

Maleficent is shining up her collection of medieval torture devices

Frollo wants him flogged

Facilier is currently sewing up a voodoo doll, all he needs is some of the old man’s hair

Scar is scheming ways to make his hyenas mauling the man look like an accident

Clayton, Gaston, and Sykes just want to shoot the guy

But for now everyone makes sure that (Y/N) isn’t alone with the guy, something (Y/N) appreciates more than anything

When (Y/N) come teary eyed to the Villains, you know damn well they’re gonna be treated like royalty.

Hook cooks the their favorite meal as Hades brings his best jokes to take their mind off being harassed

Cruella actually understands what (Y/N)s going through, having been a female in the male dominated fashion industry during the 50’s

“Chin up now dear, don’t let some man-thing get to you. Heavens know I had my fare share of degenerates when I started out my illustrious career!”

Even though they can’t physically touch the creep, it’s not a surprise that the man eventually disappeared quit

Something about a series of unfortunate circumstances that coincidentally happed in progression that lead him to have a mental breakdown and leave on short notice

When news of the creeps resignation, all the villains were like:

There are only two reasons the Villains could get along. 1. It’s for (Y/N) 2. The destruction of someone’s life.

(Y/N) has scary dog privileges, but the scary dogs are middle aged magicians

—————————————

Hope you enjoyed! Try not to let those old creeps get you down, they’re miserable folks who don’t deserve the time of day! (And for real a man called me his ‘little Disney girl’ when he noticed my Disney pin…. I’m 20..)

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Black Widow Curse

Summary: The last thing Yelena expected was to see someone at her sister's grave and got them caught in her web.

Warning: MINIORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+, mention of Natasha's death, fighting, mention of past abuse, injuries, dubious consent (Yelena is drunk), sex (not in a lot of detail), angst, unhappy ending, toxic relationship, everyone is hurt and no one is okay

Word Count: 3.5k

When Yelena stepped out of her truck, she wasn’t expecting to see someone at her sister’s headstone. She was positive that no one knew where it was. With her hand on her gun, she approached the mysterious figure. Maybe they weren’t a threat, but after the past few failed assignments, she wasn’t sure who was a friend or an enemy. Suddenly, a blur of white and brown fur ran to the stranger. Her dog traitor began to lick your face, and your laughter began filling the quiet area. “You know,” you said. “I believe dogs can sense someone with good intentions,” you turned around to face her, but your hand still ran through Fanny’s fur. “So I’d appreciate it if you took your hand off your gun.”

Yelena kept it there and took in your features. You were younger than her, but not by much. Your clothes were baggy, slipping off your frame. Yelena could see tattoos that covered your arms. They seemed random, black swirls that decorated your skin. “Who are you?”

“I think I should be asking you that,” you dropped your hand. Fanny whined but walked back to her owner. “Wait,” your eyes narrowed at her, and you stood up from Natasha’s grave. “Your Yelena, Nat’s sister.” Knowing her name did not help your case, in the Blonde’s opinion. She took a step back.

“Who are you? I won’t ask again.” It took you a moment to respond, stunned by her sudden appearance.

“I was an Avenger with your sister,” you said. “We were friends.” Yelena hated that word. Avenger. It held much power and acted as a shield to hide behind and not face the past. Once again, she was face to face with someone who had more time with her sister. “Look, I heard about what happened with Clint,” you took another step forward. This time, Yelena removed her gun and pointed it at you. “Are you going to shoot me?” Yelena shrugged. “Why?”

Yelena wasn’t sure if she could give you a good answer, but did she need one? She was trained to kill and accept orders without a second thought. “Feels right,” she undid the safety. “I have nothing better to do.” You dared to laugh. That pissed her off. It seemed every day, the only emotion she felt was anger.

“You can’t kill me,” you simply said.

“Is that a challenge?” You smiled.

“Merely stating a fact,” you turned to face Natasha’s grave, kissed your fingers, and placed it on the stone. “It was nice to meet you, Yelena. I hope we meet again as friends.”

It happened rather suddenly. Intense cold washed over her, and her vision darkened. It felt similar to when she was blipped. As quickly as it happened, her warmth returned, and her vision came back.

She was standing alone. Fanny ran over to the spot you were standing in. The Akita circled something on the ground before lying down next to it. Yelena put her gun away and walked over to it. On the ground was a ripped photo strip with a girl with blue hair and another one with Blonde hair.

*

You hated parties. Even when you were with the Avengers, you loathed everyone that Tony threw. Full of fake politicians who did not care about the people they represented. You hated the stuffy outfits. Now, you stood in a rented suit at another party, not as a guest. The guest of honor, Hunter Sykes, hired you as private security. It was easy money, and you had rent and groceries to pay for.

So when Mr. Sykes led a beautiful woman back to his hotel room, you followed through the shadows. It was how you saw Yelena first, dressed in a red cocktail dress. She watched what floor the elevator stopped at and took the stairs to the 5th floor. Before she could exit the staircase, you pushed her up against the wall and emerged from the shadows. “Well, we meet again,” Relaxation washed over the Blonde. Before you could ask what her plan was, she pushed you on the chest, and you stumbled backward. It startled you, blinked a few times, and chased after her. A deja vu moment washed over you. Instead of chasing Yelena down a hallway, you were running after Natasha in a warehouse. The elder Black Widow got the best of you. Yelena wasn’t, but you wanted to play fairly. You kept your powers at bay even when they danced on your fingers. With a burst of speed, you caught up with her and grabbed her wrist. You ducked at the punch, but she was able to kick at you. You jumped back. The space allowed her to grab a knife on her thigh.

You wished Natasha could see this, and you wondered who she thought would win. The two sisters shared similarities, which made sense given their similar training. However, there was a slight difference. Natasha found fluidity in how she fought, as if there wasn’t a weight on top of her. Yelena was stiff. She was fighting to win, and you felt it in the punch to the side of your head.

“You are good,” you said, shaking the stars out of your vision. The Blonde rolled her eyes. “What? Am I not getting a compliment?”

“You are annoying,” she deadpanned. You would take it. Even though she was Natasha’s sister, you had a job to do, and she wasn’t going near Mr. Sykes. The fighting continued. You managed to get the knife out of her hand and threw it in the wall. You landed a powerful kick to her chest, she stumbled backward and then hit the window behind her. The glass creaked. Yelena shook her head to regain her footing, but you refused to give her time to recover. You sprinted towards her and pushed on her chest. The impact sent you both out the weakened window. You grabbed the ledge and ignored Yelena’s shout as she fell.

The sudden commotion caused Mr. Sykes to exit his hotel room. You pulled yourself up, removed the glass from your hair, and approached him. You hoped Yelena was okay.

*

“Fucking hell,” you mumbled and pulled out a frozen bag of peas. You slumped down on the couch with your ice pack against your head. After you pushed Yelena out of the window, you got Mr. Sykes out of the hotel with his regular security detail. If Yelena tried to kill him again, it was out of your hands. He paid you. The job was done; now it was time to rest and recover. You were pretty sure Yelena could punch harder than Natasha. The memory of your friend still hurts even though it was coming on two years after her death.

Taking off the peas, you grabbed the only photo in your apartment. It was of you and Natasha a few months after she and Steve broke you out of the RAFT. You and the Black Widow were curled up on the couch in a random safe house in Europe while a James Bond movie was playing on the TV. That night, she told you all about Yelena and the mission in Ohio. Steve sent you the picture of your new burner phone when you left them.

You weren’t angry at Natasha. When half of the population was blipped away, you were part of it. You could have stopped her if you were there, but Clint was right. Natasha was stubborn. Once her mind was made up, no one would stop her. Still, it was unfair. The birds were still singing, and the leaves would change. You weren’t angry at her. She was the greatest thing you’ve lost.

“For an Avenger, it was very easy to break in here,” you laughed as Yelena climbed through your fire escape window and sat beside you. At least she had the decency to close the window behind her.

“Are you here to kill me?” She shook your head and took the frozen vegetable.

“I would have killed you before I entered the apartment,” Fair enough. She placed the peas on the back of her neck. “That fight was so long. Do you have food?” You chuckled and stood up, wincing at the slight pain in your joints.

“I was about to order Chinese. Do you want some?” Yelena nodded. You walked to your fridge and took the menu off the side. Before you walked back to her, you saw the Blonde pick up the photo frame. She looked it over and put it back down. “Figure out what you want,” you handed her the menu. “I’m going to shower.” She looked at you and blinked a few times.

“You are going to leave me alone in your home.” Home was a strong word to describe this place. It was a place to keep food, shower, and sleep. You shrugged.

“As you said, if you wanted to kill me, you would have,” Maybe it was a little stupid to put your blind trust in someone you just threw out a window. But she was Natasha’s little sister. She had to be hurting as much as you were.

*

When you returned to your living room, Yelena was still in the same spot, except for the pea bag you assumed was back in the freezer. “What do you want?” Your question went unanswered. You weren’t sure if she heard you. Picking up the menu, you gently tapped her with it. That snapped her out of whatever fog her mind had created. “What do you want?” You asked again as if nothing happened.

“Fried rice and orange chicken,” you nodded and walked to the kitchen to order the food. You knew better to ask a Black Widow if they were okay. They ended up lying. Once the food was ordered, you rejoined Yelena on the couch with a few beers.

“Food should be here in 15 minutes,” you noticed the Blonde looking at you this time. Your shorts and simple T-shirt did not hide your tattoos. But she took a bear and slumped back.

“Your taste of beet is shit,” you opened your bottle and took a sip. It was shit.

“It was cheap. As you can see, I’m not rolling in the cash,” you gestured toward your apartment.

“Is Mr. Sykes not paying you well?” She asked.

“I don’t work for him. He hired me for that event because I was in the area,” you watched her nod out of the corner of her eye. “Did you kill him?”

“I wasn’t there to kill him,” your eyebrows shut up to your hairline in surprise. The Blonde chuckled. “I was hired to get the DNA from the woman he wanted to fuck. Job completed minus being thrown out the widow. That was good form.”

“I was trained by the best,” her face darkened slightly, but she recovered.

“By my sister?” She questioned. You knew this conversation was coming up. Sighing, you crossed your legs.

“Natasha was good, but I was trained before we met,” you smiled softly. This part of the story wasn’t bad. “I tried to kill her. I got a few hits in, but she threw me on my ass,” you managed to catch Yelena’s smile and let out a chuckle. You counted that as a small victory.

“Who trained you?” She asked. The doorbell rang, interrupting your story. You stood up, paid the delivery boy, and grabbed extra plates before you returned to the couch. You took your food and handed the bag to Yelena.

“I called him the Doctor,” you took a bite of your food. “Not sure what the endgame was before the Avengers killed him.”

“Where you born with-?” She gestured to the tattoos on your arms.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’. “It started with one on my shoulder, then grew and grew. I hated them at first, but they made me very popular with the ladies,” you wiggled your eyebrows at her. Again, she chuckled and smiled. It was a little louder than before—another victory. “Yelena,” you looked at her. “Why are you here?” She sighed.

“I had nowhere else to go.”

*

You weren’t sure how to describe this newly founded partnership between you and Yelena. She would end up at your apartment when she had nowhere else to go. Even if you weren’t there to greet her, you could come back to new food in your fridge and a freshly stocked first aid kit. When you managed to catch the Black Widow sneaking through your window, you would order takeout and watch whatever movie was on. She would never tell you that caused the gunshot wounds or bruises that you helped clean. The same was true for you. Yelena would grab the first aid kit and sit you down to clean your wounds.

There was an intimacy about it. An unspoken trust between you and her. Her hands were soft and warm against your skin as she patched a cut on your rib. Sometimes, you felt her fingers wander and trace the nearby tattoos. Similarly, you found yourself tracing faded scars. Goosebumps would form on her skin, and you would hear the slight hitch of her breath. You both would never call each other out. That was it. Slight touches, longing looks, two people lonely and desperate for something good. Nothing was acted on it. You could feel the tension every time she was in the room, but you were too afraid to scare her away.

*

It was strange to see the Blonde by your apartment door. Sometimes, you wondered if she knew you had a front door. “Did you forget how to climb through my window?” you teased, but your small jab was met with silence. That should have been your first clue that something was wrong. Sometimes, Yelena was quiet, but she always joked around with you.

You opened the door and held it open for her. She was quick to walk in, and when you closed the door, she leaned against the wood. Maybe if you weren’t exhausted and your mind wasn’t desperately calling for sleep, maybe if you recognized the month, it would have explained her behavior, but you missed all of it.

This was the first time you saw Yelena in about a month. You were busy with contracted work. You even answered the call when Sam asked for help. Then Carol. Then Strange. October blended into November, and now it was December. Again, it should have been a clue when she suddenly grabbed you by your shirt, pushed you against the door, and kissed you. The sound of your bag hitting the ground did not pull you apart. But the logical part of your brain needed to know what was going on. You placed your hands on her hips and flipped positions. “What,” you cleared your throat. “What are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” she said. “Do you not want me to?” God, you wanted her to keep going. For many nights, that thought of her lips on yours kept you up at night with an ache between your legs, but you needed her to say it.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” You asked. She nodded and moved her hands behind your neck.

“Please,” she pleaded. “I need you to make me feel good.” All of your life, you were strong. You survived this power that was given to you and lived through the abuse at the hands of your parents. Won over the Doctor and climbed through his ranks. Then joined the Avengers. But when it came to Black Widows, you were weak to them. You folded. You crumpled. You dropped to your knees and submitted to them. So you kissed her, ignoring the taste of alcohol on her lips and the bloodshot look in her green eyes. You ignored all of it to satisfy a loneliness deep inside you.

You moved your hands under her thighs and lifted her. Her ankles locked behind your back. Your lips stayed together as you moved to your bedroom and gently laid her down.

You made good on your promise. Each moan, gasp, and whine that left her lips filled a hunger deep inside you. You were on wire with your hand between her legs and lips on her skin, whispering praise after praise.

“So fucking beautiful,” you mumbled. Her nails dug into your skin, leaving half-moon indents that you would look at later to remind yourself that this happened. You were the one that brought her over to the edge over and over again. She was crying out your name. Your tongue was tasting how sweet she was. You were addicted to her body, memorizing every spot that made her tick.

You only stopped when Yelena pushed you away. Her green eyes were hidden behind her eyelids. A thin layer of sweat covered her body, and she was warm when she cuddled against you. You basked in the warmth because when you woke up in the morning, she was gone. The bed was cold.

A week passed when she appeared at your apartment again. Yelena pushed you down on the couch and got between your legs. She made you cum with your hand twisted in her blonde hair. This time, the Black Widow disappeared for five days. She climbed through your window, and you pushed her against the wall so hard you thought you had left an indent there. She stayed for two days, and you cursed every surface of your apartment.

As she lay on your chest, basking in the afterglow, you wanted more. You wanted more than sex. Sometimes, you thought about dates you would take her on. What would she wear to a dinner and a movie? Or maybe you could splurge on a Broadway show. Whenever you asked, she wouldn’t answer. Instead, she would kiss you deeply, climb onto your lap, and make you forget what you requested.

She wrapped you around her finger, pushing you away and then bringing you close. It was an emotional roller coaster. Inspired by Yelena, you disappeared. You bounced between jobs and couches for two months to put distance between you and the Blonde.

But you found yourself at Natasha’s grave. While you cleaned up the weeds and straightened up the gifts that people left, it felt unfair how this place was where you found peace. You found solace in the presence of another Black Widow while you escaped the other. “I miss you, Nat,” you sighed. “I wish you were here.”

You weren’t surprised that she found you. You heard Fanny run up behind you and wiggle her way onto your lap. Smiling, you ran your fingers through her fun. “You have not been home,” Yelena said. You smiled sadly at her as she sat down next to you.

“Hasn’t felt like home for a while,” you answered. It felt suffocating. Everything in your apartment reminded you of Yelena and her absence. It drove you mad.

“Because of me?” Your silence was enough of an answer for her. “I am sorry.”

That was the thing about Black Widows. For every aspect of their life, they were forced to be used, forced to kill, and forced to seduce. Black Widows were used to being used, so it made sense it was all they knew.

Natasha was the same way. From the moment you joined the team, she poured herself into you, every deep-seated trauma to the blood in her ledger. Every time she wanted to give up, you were there. You were the life persever when the waves forced her down and threatened to to drown her. But she was never there when you needed saving or someone to hold your head above the water. She closed the door on you. Then she would come back around, apologize, and swear it would never happen again. That if you needed her, she would be there. She never was. It was a cycle that you couldn’t escape from. Now, another Black Widow had you trapped.

“I am sorry,” she said again and grabbed her hand. “I will do better. Be better,” she promised. “Please. I miss you.”

Yelena was different from her sister. You never crossed that line with Natasha, giving her access to your mind, body, and soul. But you were weak, and you missed her too. You loved someone unable to return your feelings. “I missed you too,” you admitted. I’ll come home.” She smiled, and you fell in love with her more.

You wondered what you did in your past life to be trapped in the web of two different Black Widows. Yelena kissed your cheek, then softly kissed your lips. You missed the taste of her—her natural taste mixed with her strawberry lip balm. That was the alluring characteristic of Black Widows. They weaved their webs and waited until an unlucky intruder got trapped. Widows injected their victims with poison until they were unable to move. They feasted on the weak, and you were weak to them.