natasha romanoff—she saved the world.

terminal mcu/avengers brain rot. writing blog for @caatws. ♡

[gnatromanoff]

bio! ♡

name: madi age: 25 pronouns: she/he/they

links! ♡

my writing! ao3 carrd (includes dni/byf, likes/dislikes, etc. — please read!) about 

update (5/29/23): most of my works on ao3 have been privated so that only users logged into ao3 accounts will be able to see them, due to ai scraping, but i hope to make them all publicly available again in the future whenever this changes!

[gnatromanoff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Peter wraps his arms around her from behind with a soft sigh. “Well, you know what I see in that picture? Us.” “Just because you may be vintage does not mean that I am, too." His voice starts to border on a whine. “Gamora. I’m trying to say something romantic—something profound.” “Well, then, hurry up,” she teases, and she can practically picture him roll his eyes.

ayyy some starmora fluff(ish)!! read on ao3 <3

[gnatromanoff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Natasha has appeared so unbothered, and just, in general, so happy, so content this past week, that Gamora can’t stop herself from asking, “How are you so okay? How is it that you and I both fell off that same cliff, and died for that same stone, and were trapped in the same realm, but as soon as we’re both free, you can return to your life so easily, while I have just…” She trails off, suddenly unable to find the words to continue fueling her rant. Natasha’s expression softens. “You didn’t fall. You were thrown,” Natasha says gently. “That’s the difference.”

part 2 of 2 of "i wanna be happy, i'm ready" is out now on ao3!

[gnatromanoff]

have i finally received one of the fabled ao3 bot comments?????

[gnatromanoff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

“Why’d you think me killin’ you was th’only way t’save the galaxy?” Peter slurs from where he sits on the floor beside her, Thor's parting gift of Asgardian liquor sitting open between them. “We all could’a gone an’ found the Soul Stone together, an’ then destroyed it, if you just told us. No one would’a had t’kill anyone. We could’a just gone t’Vormir together.” “Oh,” Gamora laughs, the sound hollow, “so one of you could’ve just thrown me off that cliff for the stone instead?” Peter just stares at her, incredulous, but she keeps her eyes firmly trained on the floor. -- After Nebula frees Gamora from the Soul World and brings her home, Gamora struggles to adjust back to life with the Guardians—and their complex feelings toward the circumstances of her death—and make sense of what Thanos' successful "sacrifice" on Vormir really means.

the sequel to glad that i made it out (and sorry that it all went down like it did)—read on ao3!

[gnatromanoff]

tomorrow, gamora comes home 🫶💚💫 but it won't be easy 💔

finallyyyy posting my sequel to glad that i made it out (and sorry that it all went down like it did) tmrw!

after nebula brings gamora bacl home from the soul world, everyone tries to cope with/move on from the events of iw, which were Incredibly Traumatizing, so yeah get ready for some Angst

[gnatromanoff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Yelena doesn’t believe it. She can’t.

“Where is this magic cliff?” Yelena asks, and Nebula seems to already understand where this is going.

“There’s nothing there. The planet is uninhabitable,” Nebula says. “Trust me.”

“But—but what if now that the Soul Stone is gone, the trades could be undone?” Yelena’s sure she sounds desperate, and she knows she’s grasping at straws, but— “What if we could find something there that could bring them back?”

“That’s not how this works.”

“But how do you know?”

Nebula shakes her head with a frustrated scowl, turning away. “You’re just like Nat. So stubborn.”

--

After Yelena discovers she is not the only one to have lost her older sister in a very specific way, she reaches out to Nebula for answers. Unsatisfied with what information Nebula has to offer, Yelena convinces her to take her to Vormir, where it turns out there may be a way to bring their sisters back after all.

read on ao3!

[screnwriter-deactivated20220724]

tag yourself, trope edition

[gnatromanoff]

empty glass

Read on AO3 here!

Fandom: The Owl House

Pairing(s): Amity Blight/Luz Noceda

Word count: 2685

Tags: Lumity, Amity Blight, Luz Noceda, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Post-S2 Finale

Summary: On the count of three, Amity told herself, she’d push down all these scary thoughts and feelings and return to her normal, collected self. For Luz.

One…two…

“Amity?”

Amity had never considered herself someone who enjoyed the rain. If anything, she always thought of herself as the opposite, given the burning sting of the rain in the Isles. Here, though, in the fabled “Human Realm,” rain had become a strange source of comfort to Amity in her short time here.

Rather than burn, the droplets created a peaceful patter sound against the exterior of Luz’s house. When it made direct contact with Amity’s skin, it left nothing more than a cool, wet sensation, like taking a cold shower, but gentler. Despite everything, the absurdity of such “rain” made Amity smile the first time she felt it.

In the days following their tumultuous arrival to the Human Realm, Amity’s smiles were few and far between, like everyone else she came with. Gus seemed to have recovered the most quickly out of the bunch, despite his young age, thanks to the distraction of learning all about the very human race he’d studied from afar for years. But even that couldn’t stave off the inevitable nightmares that filled his mind nearly every night, followed by his soft sobs into Willow’s shoulder. Even Hunter offered surprisingly helpful comfort to Gus during the night, though Amity knew Hunter was only available to do this so often because of his own inability to sleep.

Amity trusted Gus, Willow, and Hunter to support each other, which allowed her to focus her energy solely on Luz.

Her awesome girlfriend wasn’t doing very…awesome. She was still an awesome girlfriend! But emotionally speaking, Luz was not doing very awesome.

When Luz wasn’t with their group, she stayed close to her mom. Amity knew how badly Luz wanted to reunite with her mom, even if it meant risking never returning to the Isles again, but how could Amity ever blame her? Though she may not have felt the same closeness or loyalty to her own parents, Amity now understood what it felt like to be completely separated from them with no control over how or when she could see them again. There was something so earth shattering about it, like a rug of security pulled quickly and cruelly out from under her feet, that continually threatened to make Amity cry at the mere sight of Luz in her mom’s embrace.

But at the same time, Amity knew Luz yearned for the second mother she came to have in the Isles in the form of Eda, along with the family Luz and Eda had created together. Amity had never thought of families as something one could choose before meeting Luz and Eda, but now that she did understand, it just made her heart hurt every time Luz mentioned Eda.

Though Amity had never had so many people around her going through the same kind of hurt before, she’d also never felt this…alone. She wanted to process her feelings toward the Day of Unity on her own, rather than share them with the others, so she could continue supporting them, especially Luz. Initially, she’d gotten Luz to talk about her feelings a couple times in the first day or so after their arrival (departure?), but as the second and third day passed, Luz suddenly closed up entirely, instead focusing her attention on finding a way back to the Isles. Every time Amity tried to talk to her, it was all Luz could ever talk about.

At night, Amity slept in a spare bedroom with Willow, Gus, and Hunter, all of them spread out on the floor, despite Luz’s mom’s insistence that one or two could take the small bed in the room. Strangely, sleeping together on the floor felt more secure, with everyone so close in reach.

But at the same time, Amity often lay awake, craving the closeness of Luz beside everyone—beside her . She’d wanted to give Luz space to readjust to her home and being with her mom, hoping that Luz would initiate close, physical contact again on her own whenever she was ready, but Amity’s patience was starting to lose out to her own anxiety. Her dreams, like everyone else’s, often replayed the events of the Day of Unity, but sometimes while incorporating other things that had happened recently, like the Bonesborough Brawl or the time Luz fought off her parents’ inventions to earn back Willow and Gus’ enrollment at Hexside. Regardless of what Amity saw, she always woke up in a cold sweat with the crushing feeling of the world collapsing around her.

Tonight, even the calming patter of the rain against Luz’s roof did nothing to pacify Amity’s wild heart. She placed her hands over her mouth to disguise her loud, gasping breaths, her eyes squeezed shut against the threat of tears. For once, the others were all asleep, even Hunter; she shouldn’t risk waking them.

After several deep breaths, her erratic breathing somewhat evened out, and Amity shakily pushed herself into a seated position. She slowly started pushing herself to her feet, almost falling over at first—What was it Luz had described the feeling as? “Jelly” legs?—but she soundlessly caught herself, then stood up straight. She carefully stepped over Willow’s sleeping form and padded toward the door, shutting it softly behind her.

She took a few steps away from the door and the weird leg sensation came over her again. This time, she let her legs do as they wished, and she slowly slid to the floor, her back pressed against the cold wall. She drew her knees up to her chest, squeezing her legs as closely against her front with her arms as she could. She rested her forehead against her knees as her breathing began to grow erratic again.

Her thoughts raced with a mix of real memories and flashes from her recent dreams, the line between what was real and what was fiction suddenly blurry. She logically knew she had no idea what happened to her family following the Collector’s release in the Isles, yet a part of her was convinced she’d received indisputable proof that they’d all perished. She mentally slapped herself, trying to get it together; she wouldn’t be able to help anyone in this state. The morning was only a few hours away.

On the count of three, she told herself, she’d push down all these scary thoughts and feelings and return to her normal, collected self. For Luz.

One…two…

“Amity?”

Amity was sure the voice came from one of her louder, racing thoughts, until a warm hand on her arm followed the voice, startling her out of her daze. She blinked to clear her vision, blurred by sleep and tears, as she looked up and found Luz looking down at her.

“Amity,” Luz repeated, the questioning tone replaced by a worried one. Amity said nothing as Luz lowered herself to the floor before Amity, her hand never leaving Amity’s arm. Luz frowned. “Are you okay? Why are you out here? It’s the middle of the night!”

“Why are you out here?” Amity replied, internally flinching at the shakiness of her voice, but if Luz noticed, her expression didn’t change to acknowledge it. “You should be asleep!”

Luz’s lips shifted from a frown to a straight line, her eyes narrowing slightly. Amity offered a sheepish smile.

“...And I should also be asleep,” Amity amended, and Luz nodded.

“Seriously, though,” Luz said, her expression softening again, “are you okay?”

Amity shrugged. “Probably just as okay as you and the others.”

Luz pulled her hand away, causing Amity to internally panic, until Luz used it to instead take Amity’s hand. She squeezed Amity’s fingers gently, and the touch still gave Amity the same fuzzy feeling that she felt when she and Luz first asked each other out. At least this time, the darkness of the hallway could hide Amity’s faint blush.

“Talk to me,” Luz murmured, carefully playing with Amity’s fingers. “Please?”

“It was just a nightmare,” Amity said quietly, averting her eyes to instead watch their entangled fingers. “Nothing big.”

“That’s still big,” Luz insisted.

Amity shrugged again. “I’ve been getting them every night, so it’s not really—”

“ What! ” Luz interrupted, her voice a tad too loud for a house full of people sleeping. Amity shushed her, but Luz continued, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’ve had a lot going on, too,” Amity reminded. “I didn't want to put that on you, I just wanted to be there for you…though you don’t exactly tell me about what you’re feeling, either.”

Luz frowned again, because she couldn’t argue with that. Even before the Day of Unity, Amity knew Luz had gone through a lot of different things in a short time. She hadn’t even been in the Isles for a full year yet, but had already experienced more than Amity had living her whole life in the Isles.

“I’m sorry, Amity,” Luz said softly, her demeanor suddenly shifting to one of defeat. “ I didn’t want to put too much stuff on you , since we’re already here because of—”

“ Luz ,” Amity interrupted, squeezing Luz’s hand. “None of what happened is your fault. If you never came to the Isles, we would’ve all been forced into covens and killed by Belos. You just gave us a fighting chance at surviving.”

Luz shifted uncomfortably, and Amity knew what her next protest would be. “But I taught the light glyph to Philip…”

One of the last times Amity had a real conversation with Luz in the last few days, Luz had shakily recounted her real experience of meeting Philip Wittebane in the past with Lilith, including teaching him magic that he could later use against everyone as Belos. But as far as Amity was concerned, Philip becoming Belos and hunting witches seemed as inevitable as water being wet; regardless of Luz’s involvement, it sounded like enough humans were afraid of witches that somewhere, sometime, somehow, someone would come to the Isles to destroy them all.

This was what Amity first told Luz after Luz’s “confession,” and it’s what Amity repeated to Luz now. But just like the first time around, Luz still didn’t look convinced.

“Look,” Amity said, trying to carefully pick her words, “I want you to have the space to work out these feelings, but at the same time, you can’t let these feelings take over. Maybe you helped Belos, maybe you didn’t—and in every smart person’s opinion, you didn’t —but that doesn’t matter now. Belos is gone. We stopped the Draining Spell, and what matters now is returning to the Isles to stop the Collector, because he seemed to pose a threat to the Isles regardless of you, or Belos, or anyone, so, please, Luz…”

Amity trailed off, the passion she’d suddenly felt fading with her voice. But as she spoke, she could’ve sworn her words finally seemed to start breaking through to Luz, as Luz’s eyes filled with a sense of hope Amity hadn’t seen in days.

“We also can’t lose our heads trying to build a portal when we don’t know how or have access to the materials yet,” Amity added a moment later, because she knew that was where Luz’s mind would go next. “You’re the one who told me that human saying before, about being so tired that you’re like an empty glass so there’s nothing to pour out, or something? Don’t be the empty glass, Luz.”

A soft, tearful chuckle escaped Luz’s lips. She wiped at her eyes with a sniffle. “That is the weirdest, yet most endearing advice anyone has ever given me.”

Now it was Amity’s turn to laugh, and Luz pressed a kiss to her nose.

“How did this turn into you comforting me?” Luz asked. “You’re the one who had the nightmare— nightmares , plural!”

“You always take care of everyone,” Amity said, like it was obvious. “Let someone else take care of you for once, like your awesome girlfriend.”

They shared the laugh this time.

“I missed you,” Luz suddenly said, and not even the darkness could conceal the deep red that suddenly came across her face. “I mean, we’ve been together this whole time, but—”

“—but also not really,” Amity finished knowingly. “‘Cause you kind of shut me out.”

“I already said I was sorry!”

“I know, batata ,” Amity said. “It’s okay.”

Luz scooted closer to Amity until they were side-by-side, then wrapped her arms around Amity and rested her head against Amity’s shoulder. The contact filled Amity with a sudden warmth from head to toe, as she suddenly realized how long it had been since the last time they were close like this, and how many things had happened between then and now. Amity suddenly found herself fighting an uphill battle with her tears, her body shaking in Luz’s grasp.

“It’s okay,” Luz repeated Amity’s words to her now. “I’m here now, Amity. It’s okay. Let it out.”

And Amity did just that, turning to meet Luz’s embrace head-on as her tears devolved into sobs. She buried her face into Luz's shoulder. This time, she let the memory and nightmare flashes in her brain out through her cries, like water in the clouds becoming the rainfall outside.

Luz said nothing as Amity cried, just slowly rubbing circles on Amity’s back. Here, in Luz’s arms, Amity felt the safest she had since before the Day of Unity, despite the current, uncertain fate of the world.

Once Amity’s sobs eventually returned to quiet tears, Luz pulled away just enough to meet Amity’s eyes. “Hey, um...wanna sleep in my bed tonight?”

The question triggered multiple emotions in Amity’s brain, ranging from excitement to panic. She could sleep in her girlfriend’s bed! …She could sleep in her girlfriend’s bed.

A compromise between the two emotions, Amity offered Luz the world’s smallest nod. Luz carefully helped Amity to her feet and guided her toward her bedroom, her hands never leaving Amity’s arm. Once inside, Amity took in the sight of Luz’s bunk bed, where Vee was fast asleep on the top bunk. Luz crawled onto the bottom bunk and then pulled Amity toward the open space beside her, and this time, the darkness of the night couldn’t disguise either of their flushed faces.

“Come on,” Luz said anyway, pushing past the nervousness in her demeanor. “That way if you have another nightmare, you won’t have to get up, ‘cause I’ll be right here to—” Luz stopped, suddenly shy as the rest of her words came out as a mumble: “..to protect you.”

Amity was sure her face was redder than apple blood at this point, but her hesitance to be apart from Luz again easily won out over any nervousness she felt. She quietly crawled into the bed, letting Luz tuck them both in under her soft comforter. Once Luz lied back down, they spent several moments just awkwardly lying straight on their backs beside each other not touching, as if there were an invisible wall between them.

“Okay, maybe this isn’t as comforting as I thought,” Luz joked. “This is still scary.”

It was scary, but it couldn’t be scarier than anything they’d faced in the past week. Despite her heart racing in her chest, Amity puffed up her cheeks with a determined huff and her shaking hand found Luz’s under the blankets, squeezing it.

“There,” Amity said decidedly. “Not scary.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Amity could’ve sworn that Luz’s face looked even redder than her own, but Amity tried to look as cool as possible (she was sure she looked even more unhinged than Eda). She let out a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“Goodnight, Luz,” she said in a voice that Luz had once called her “customer service” voice, whatever that meant.

“Right,” Luz said, in a similar tone, presumably also closing her eyes. “Goodnight, Amity.”

About a minute of silence, save for the soft rainfall outside, passed between them, and Amity could feel her body quickly succumbing to sleep, just as she heard a sudden whisper from Luz—

“IloveyouAmitygoodnight.”

Amity felt her lips turn upward in a smile as she let sleep finally take her.

[screnwriter-deactivated20220724]

a small list of forehead kisses i need to see more of

forehead kisses to ensure everything will be okay

pulling away from a kiss, placing your lips on your lover's forehead

forehead kisses that simply say ''i'm here for you'' because nothing i say will mend your pain

a forehead kiss as we hug: you pulling me closer and me nuzzling my head into the crook of your neck

male characters being kissed on the forehead

an exchange of forehead kisses. you kiss me on the forehead. i kiss you on the forehead. repeat. our friends and family think we're disgusting but we don't care

trailing kisses from your lover's forehead to their lips (or vice versa)

forehead kisses without reason. we don't need reasons. kiss the forehead

a quick kiss on the forehead when tending to your lover's wounds, grateful they're home safe and back in your arms

it's too early in the relationship for good night kisses, but forehead kisses is a good substitute

a forehead kiss that reads ''i love you, but you know damn well [insert character flaw]''

having to stand on your tippy toes to reach your lover's forehead

a kiss goodbye on the forehead, you're unrequitedly in love with me and i'm telling you to let me go

kissing your friend's forehead because platonic affection <3

supposedly we hate each other, but when i show up at your door looking for comfort, you extend your arm and offer me a hug. as i wrap my arms around you, my tears soaking your shirt, you can't quite help but to lay a kiss on my head

silent forehead kisses because we've had a pretty bad argument, and neither of us are currently in the right mindset to talk it out, but i want you to know that i love you, and we're going to get through this

kissing your lover goodbye on the forehead instead of the lips, because the only thing that's going to keep me from missing you to death until we (hopefully) reunite again is the thought of finally collecting that kiss we didn't share from you (and if we kiss each other goodbye, it feels like the end of something)

[homunculus-argument]

Hey btw, if you're doing worldbuilding on something, and you're scared of writing ~unrealistic~ things into it out of fear that it'll sound lazy and ripped-out-of-your-ass, but you also don't want to do all the back-breaking research on coming up with depressingly boring, but practical and ~realistic~ solutions, have a rule:

Just give the thing two layers of explanation. One to explain the specific problem, and another one explaining the explanation. Have an example:

Plot hole 1: If the vampires can't stand daylight, why couldn't they just move around underground?

Solution 1: They can't go underground, the sewer system of the city is full of giant alligators who would eat them.

Well, that's a very quick and simple explanation, which sure opens up additional questions.

Plot hole 2: How and why the fuck are there alligators in the sewers? How do they survive, what do they eat down there when there's no vampires?

Solution 2: The nuns of the Underground Monastery feed and take care of them as a part of their sacred duties.

It takes exactly two layers to create an illusion that every question has an answer - that it's just turtles all the way down. And if you're lucky, you might even find that the second question's answer loops right back into the first one, filling up the plot hole entirely:

Plot hole 3: Who the fuck are the sewer nuns and what's their point and purpose?

Solution 3: The sewer nuns live underground in order to feed the alligators, in order to make sure that the vampires don't try to move around via the sewer system.

When you're just making things up, you don't need to have an answer for everything - just two layers is enough to create the illusion of infinite depth. Answer the question that looms behind the answer of the first question, and a normal reader won't bother to dig around for a 3rd question.

[bfleuter]

This is good advice on worldbuilding.

And also. 

I would really like to play a vampire-hunting sewer-nun and her pet alligator in a ttrpg.

[bfleuter]

Woops uh oh oops woops.

[folklorebrunette]

An Ode to Lover

poem from the better side of lover's face (the whole) + synopsis of the album with the same name

first post on substack is up hiiiii

[gnatromanoff]

still obsessed with the idea that kate and peter end up splitting an apartment together bc they’re both young and suddenly without parents or a home and maybe kate is a bit concerned about a 17 year old trying to find his own housing in the city so she feels obligated as a Good Adult to stick with him

they find a place but of course they need a guarantor bc they’re just a couple of kids without adult money/income so they ask yelena and she’s like “well obviously i have enough money to be a guarantor even in nyc from killing people” but then she sees the required income and how much she’d have to pay upfront for them and her eyes go wide. Apparently, She Is Now Poor. so this is how yelena ends up having to take in two emo superhero kids in her own shitty nyc apartment

[plumstreet]

WHERE is that poem about that person learning all about their partners hyperfixation before getting dumped the last line is like "love is a stack of books on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end" I need it to feel whole help me please

[cielosky]

NYT Tiny Love Stories, 2/11/2020

A Bookmark Near the End

He loves history. He wanted to write a biography of John Quincy Adams. I, shamefully, knew almost nothing about John Quincy Adams, so I went online and bought every biography of him I could find. One day, he called me, claiming that we wouldn’t work out long term. He said he loved me but that we had different interests. “What does love mean to you?” I said. “That’s an impossible question,” he replied. I, however, find love to be quite simple. Love is the stack of biographies on my nightstand with a bookmark near the end. — Julia Nicole Camp 

[gnatromanoff]

just finished our violent ends dhmu

[gnatromanoff]

by the way, since i’m writing a lot of yelena and kate recently, i just wanted to clarify i don’t ship them and don’t intend for any of my little blurbs to be read as romantic. my yelena is aro and ace, like the popular hc! they are simply chaotic bros ❤️

[gnatromanoff]

yelena laughs to herself, but kate just rests her hands on her hips with a huff.

“i’m twenty-two!” kate says.

“i know, i know.” yelena stops, looking kate up and down, suddenly excited. “wait—oh my god, how did i not realize, it’s just like the—“ she suddenly cuts herself off, clearing her throat, trying to regain her composure. trying to look way cool. “never mind.”

kate raises an eyebrow, suddenly interested. “like the what?”

“i said never mind, kate bishop.” yelena turns away, dismissing kate with a wave of her hand as she busies herself with repairing her widow’s bites.

but kate just continues looking at her, until realization dawns on her face. “oh my god. were you gonna say just like the taylor swift song?”

yelena scowls as she feels heat rush into her face. where has all her spy training gone? “no. that’s lame.”

“is it really?” kate looks at her with a smug grin, leaning closer. yelena leans away. “or is it very cool?”

yelena blinks, then frowns. “okay,” she concedes with a grumble. “it’s kind of cool.”

“awww.”

“what? i just like some of her songs,” yelena insists.

“uh huh.” kate’s already pulled out her phone and scrolls through her music. “so if i shuffled her entire discography right now—“

“wait!” yelena tears kate’s phone from her grasp. kate just stares at her with her mouth agape, feigning offense. yelena frowns again. “i haven’t finished all of red yet. i need to listen in order.”

“oh my god.” kate pulls her phone out of yelena’s hands. “we are fixing that right now.”