Follow Your Passion: A Seamless Tumblr Journey
You Know Who You Are - Blog Posts
walking out of a fandom that was chill with ships or hugely focused onto a singular one and into a new fandom where everyone is ripping each other apart cause of rare pairs is crazy
May your pain medication always kick in right after you take them. May your compression garments always slip on your body with ease. May you always find your footing when you walk. May you wake up with energy and zest. May your sinuses always be clear
Reblog this to wrap the person you reblogged from in a blanket like a burrito
For Joanna (pt. 1/3)
Warnings: Mild injury to reader (they are stupid an thwacked themself with a tool or fell or something)+ Nikolai is a depressed bisexual man.
There are a lot of things Nikolai knows that he can never hope to understand.
One of them is how many truly brilliant individuals lie unknown, being that single guy at the end of an "I know a guy" trail that's always way harder to follow than it sounds.
Price had said he knew some other tech who knew someone who was nothing short of a genius with a toolkit. Nikolai had never met them, but when Price showed him a gun that this mystery person had worked on, the Russian was sold, no contest.
So, now he stands before an only slightly rusted hangar space, cloaked by the depth of night and shielded from the chill by his leather jacket. It's small, for aircraft, but it will definitely fit his Joanne. He knocks hard on the shutter, and hears an almost girlishly loud yelp over the buzz of tools that sounds out despite the stupid late hour.
In a minute or two, the shutter opens, to reveal a very much upset person behind it.
They're wearing a thick shirt, probably flame retardant considering a welding torch was in their hand, turned off only recently.
"You better have a good reason for fucking up my last electrode and my gas shield, you little-"
"Привет."
Seemingly, they had not planned on Nikolai being there, because they quiet almost immediately, and swallow.
"I don't know you."
Nikolai fights back a small chuckle at how flat your voice is, just noting a fact right after being seemingly ready to tear his throat out and throw it in his face.
"Correct, you do not know me."
You seem to pull back a little bit at his voice, eyes opening just a bit more before your face hardens again, steeled even under his piercing eyes, catching the light of the moon.
"You're... very Russian."
This time, Nikolai does chuckle, but your brows pinch together, and you snip back at him.
"You heard of me from a man named Johnathan Price, didn't you?"
That makes Nikolai freeze in place, some mix of confusion, anger, and... a sort of fear in his eyes. Price had referenced you to him once, two and a half years ago, said he'd had a short conversation with you, nothing crazy.
And now, you stood before a man you didn't know, correctly identified why he was here, and knew exactly how he found out about you.
Seemingly, his pause brings you some sort of satisfaction, and you give a chuckle. It's a sharp, almost mean sound, like a cat batting a bloody mouse around in its paws, sinking its claws into flesh.
"Bring me my project in a week. Saturday, no later than 8 pm, or you're moving to the back of the line. Check only, don't bring cash."
Nikolai feels something bubble in his guts. It's hot, but not like anger, it doesn't twist and pull like lust, but it's close to both. His throat feels like it's been shrouded with drought.
He swallows, and you seem satisfied enough with yourself to let the shutter fall closed again, and Nikolai hears a lock click.
God, what is he getting himself into?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This client was... odd.
Even weeks into the repair process, even after acknowledging that he thought you were good at what you did, Nikolai hung in the corners of your hangar, always in a radius of Joanna, like it hurt him to be parted from the dinged-up thing for more than five fucking seconds.
A Pave Low, which you knew wasn't cutting edge anymore, named Joanna. And it's not uncommon to name a plane, or, in this case, a helicopter, but... it feels different, here, solemn. But that story isn't your job, fixing the little shit is. So that's what you'll do.
Your drill is whining under the force it takes to screw in yet another loose panel, but Nikolai remains in his spot, unmoving.
It's starting to annoy you, enough that you lose your focus for a critical moment, you don't pull away the drill fast enough.
Right as you turn to cuss at him, maybe just kick him out of your shop altogether, the screws holding the panel steady snap under the force of being bent, and your drill gives out, sending half of the thing flying toward you.
Your eyes widen, and a portal to hell seemingly opens in your throat as you fall backward, hand stinging and ground fast approaching.
"FUCK!"
Nikolai lets out a matching noise (much deeper, of course, and somehow still accented), and rushes forward.
He isn't fast enough.
It wasn't a long fall, but the air is knocked out of you anyway, leaving you panting and teary-eyed as you desperately try to coax air back into your lungs.
Your hand is at a, frankly, terrible angle, and as Nikolai stand over you, you try to move more.
Biiiiiiiiig mistake.
It's sprained, badly, but not broken. After your entire career up to now, you've (majorly) injured yourself at work with your least favorite client rushing to try and make sure you're not fucking dead.
"ты в порядке?? Are you dead??"
You choke on a sniffle, and cough to clear your tight throat, finally managing a full inhale.
"'M-" When you try to push yourself up onto your hands, you grunt in pain, prompting Nikolai to stoop to a knee before you, set his big hands on your back instead.
"M' fine. Just fuckin' dandy." You finish, despite not at all being dandy. Nikolai knows it from the way you grit out your voice, and you know it because you think you might have a broken tailbone.
It's that night that Nikolai starts forcing himself into your work day.
This first instance, it's... obnoxious, but acceptable, sitting in your spinny chair and letting the big man wrap up your hand, nice and tight, and hold some ice to it.
It's then that you finally get a good look at him. After weeks, yes, you're a little late, but you finally do.
He's... uncomfortably pretty, for a grown-ass man. There's a slight bump in the bridge of his nose, like it's been broken and healed before, thick but short-trimmed, scratchy stubble and neatly-combed-back hair.
It's professional, but almost boyish, antithetical to everything he should be on paper. He's military, or close to it. Russian, and you have never once met someone entirely content who had grown up with such boring, brutalist architecture.
But he still talks your ear off for the rest of the night, sends you home dizzied and confused, with a lot more knowledge on how to wrap up an injury.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ After that, you had thought (maybe stupidly) that Nikolai would fuck off a bit, maybe leave you the hell alone while you work on his trash-copter and honor your little "alone space".
He does not. You have decided, in all your wisdom, that this is an act of the highest disrespect because he not only doesn't trust you but distrusts your methods and your work.
So, you work doubly, hard, doubly good, just to get him off your ass for the next few days of repair.
Little do you know, Nikolai stand in that corner for a different reason now. He stand there to admire, to watch you do what he can't, and, to some extent... protect you.
He had been too slow, that day. He had been too slow and you had gotten hurt. Not only had it slowed the progress on this project, but he could still see you wince when you tightened down bolts with your dominant hand, grimace when you moved your wrist too far in any direction.
The final day rolls around faster than either of you think it will. You're excited to never talk to him again. Nikolai wants so dearly to thank you for saving his most prized possession.
It's a shock when you see the Russian bring more than a check and a few choice words as payment.
He's holding a small packet of biscuits, brightly colored, with a little cartoon cow on them, some Russian word you can't read in gold cursive. It looks cheap, but charming, like a childhood snack.
Seemingly, your look of question doesn't deter him, because Nikolai talks before you can question his intentions any further than you already have.
"For you. Because you did such a good job repairing her."
You feel... something odd in your mind open a set of floodgates, and realize that you've been misinterpreting at least three months of interactions.
This is nothing someone would do for someone they disrespected, this was a gift on top of a check that is at least two-hundred dollars more than what you had been asking, and even that price had a little wiggle room for your sake.
This is a present.
You take the biscuits into your hands first, trace the smooth, embossed letters of the packaging with a callused finger.
And, for the first time in a while, you find yourself... thankful.
You look up to Nikolai, see big, warm brown eyes looking back at you.
"Yeah... come back any time you need, alright? My door's open for you."
He nods. Nikolai, that motherfucker, he just nods like he hasn't uprooted every thought you'd had of him and turned it on its head. He smiles, like you didn't hate his guts before this conversation.
But you'll keep this promise anyway.
Nikolai is you best customer, after all, who would you to turn down... a friend? Yeah, a friend.
are you 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂
Does this answer your question:
👁️🫦👁️
😩🫁😩🫄🏼
🧌
Yeah. I think it does. 😼
Bringing this gem back just to say I told you so because i did tell you so
Every single person who did not vote for Kamla Harris is responsible for whatever Trump does all this blood is on your hands I hope you are happy with it
Girl just turn the lights off in the classroom and go do your homework in the library, no one wants the big lights except you and it’s not against school code like you claim, you’re just being annoying goody two shoes because you want to. Please girly, do me a favor, I promise I do ‘t hate you but you’re just being stubborn for no reason, we’re 15 people and everyone except you has already expressed wanting the lights off
my hair is VERY soft and could EASILY be played with and you know how many people are playing with my hair??? zero
TO MY TWO MUTUALS WHO CARED, THIS IS FOR YOU!!!!!!!!
I made a Google doc abt it but I don't feel like copy and pasting the whole thing, so screenshots it is,,,
I just think yugi going absolute critter brained within a mile of water is just very funny to me. Also it would be more accurate in this au for slifer to be the guardian of the sea instead. ra can fill the sky portion
Also do you know how fucking round warbling white eyes are??? and remember how ra has a sphere form? It was intentional
As for obelisk, the tosa inu just gave me yugioh energy when I was researching dog breeds from japan
Also here's the two animals I was talking abt
Anyway infodump over time to frolic about it in my mind
Guys would you love me if I infodumped about my dragon yugi au 🥺 🥺 🥺
what if I decided to share my noir fanart.
i have friends who are on here I think I'd die if they found me actually but enjoy
2009 Spider-Noir side profile because I love drawing him and side profiles and I was going to prove a point and got distracted
This is NOT nyo Poland, I repeat, THIS IS NOT NYO POLAND!!!!! (Sorry I'm lowkey scared to post this idfk)
A mutual changing their profile pic is the online equivalent to your friend getting drastic plastic surgery
Like, babe, what happened to your face why is it so wrong shaped
Kg x saiki k au when
This is a fire idea actually. Kid and Saiki are the same because they’re in a time loop. I WILL be drawing this.
The demographic for this concept is like 2 people(at most) but yknow what? That’s okay. We BALLING
Oh by the way, in case anyone wants my contact or so, I was the Tsubakura (and Kuroji) cosplayer at AWA 2022 !
I hand made and patterned everything including the hat :)
Sometimes I regret telling my friend about my tumblr account because I’m probably going to post fan fiction on here and I don’t need him making fun of me for that lol
reblog to thank ur mutuals for providing enrichment to ur enclosure
please stop babygirling your way into problems you can't babygirl your way out of.
please stop babygirling your way into problems you can't babygirl your way out of.
me when i have like 20 notifications in the span of five minutes and when i go check its just the same guy rapidfire liking and reblogging posts
I know a certain someone who would love to see this….
Fem! Finn from arcane, commission work!
that moment when ur su1cidal episode ends n u realize theres at least one person who would miss u >>>>>
(if nothing, at least i have that one person whos my entire world rn)
*cough* @lunee-moon *cough*
reverse gatekeeping. I am on my knees begging people to engage with the source material
Finished the Spock collage for my portfolio
used surge as a warmup today
ive only drawn her like... once before, sorry shes a lil sloppy 😔
I'm rewatching supernatural (as one does) and I'm at the scene where Cas beats up Dean for the Angel Tablet. I'm trying to get my flatmate to come be moral support for me, (it is 2:30 AM) but she's refusing. What the FUCK is the point in having a flatmate with a fucked up sleep schedule if they can't come support you through your ship fighting???
Why are the artists I like always either proshippers or transphobic???
