#rare nat pics

[housedyke]

Confession: I bought the cunt ring

[notanactressyayy]

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”

[paging-possum]

The resemblance is uncanny

[a mirror selfie of op dressed as the onceler. They are a half-Asian person with light skin, wearing a fedora and a black button up vest over a white button down. They are holding a hand up to their face.

If anyone wants to know what I look like irl all my friends think I look like the onceler from the Lorax movie

[daensa-fangirl]

Natasha liu bordizzo posted pictures of Season 1 and Dave Filoni's drawing regarding confirmation of Season 2

And the first pic she posted is of #Wolfwren's homoerotic fighting pose 🤣🤣

We thought that we are mad fans of Wolfwren 💜🤍

But Natasha and Ivanna , these two women are exceeding our expectations. They are the real captains of #Wolfwren tribe .

Dave Filoni you have to make #Wolfwren canon . Don't be a pussy like JJ Abrams who didn't make #Finnpoe canon. Don't waste Nat and Iva's chemistry . We all beg you hatman and if you don't we #Wolfwren tribe will be coming after you.

And some extra pic of eman esfandi commenting with wolf 🐺 pics.

As we all know this is a very rare case , that whole cast ships #Wolfwren 💜🤍

[dethtooth]

Proper intro for my Vbros Oc!!!!

I HAVE A REFERENCE FOR HIM HOWEVER I FEEL THIS GOES MORE INDEPTH…^_^

BASIC INFO :]

Full name; Natrix Starling

Age; 29-30 (give or take afew years)

Height; 5’6

Gender/pronouns; Genderqueer and transmasc, he/it.

Sexuality; Bisexual! No preference or lean.

VILLAIN STUFFS…

Villain name; Disc Master

Ranking; Around a level 4…

Powers; Able to spawn sparks of energy from his palms! Also can create energy that essentially fuels his weapons/gadgets :3

Made most of the equipment he uses is made himself!!! Has special gloves that protect his palms from the energy sparks and also has rollerblades speakers connected to boom energy through and make him go faster. More weapon wise, he uses cd like discs similar to throwing stars and sometimes ‘electrifies’ them with his energy. Also has a mp3-esque device that hypnotizes people around him for a short period of time when music plays!

PERSONALITY??? KIND OF?

Natrix tries to play up the act of being a ‘cool’ villain and above everyone, coming off as a snob or rude often, but underneath all that he’s not any better than your average dork that plays DnD in a basement. He usually puts up this act to ‘protect himself’ but with people he’s closer to he’s alot more playful and lighthearted. Acts pretty nonchalant about most things and like they don’t affect him, but can easily get into long talks about things he finds important to him.

BACKGROUND/PAST :P

Natrix came from a very religious household and one of his only comforts in childhood was his older brother, who moved out when Nat was little. Eventually he would follow the same path and move out as soon as he could and cut off contact with his parents and sister, finding a new opportunity in henching (for the Monarch).

For several years he henched (also where he met 21!!!) until he got tired of having to do others work, leaving to start his own villain career. While researching and experimenting with turning music waves to pure energy, a mishap happened and altered his body. (Around S3-4 of vbros) Struggles with alot of shame related to this, but has tried to move on from it and continue his career.

Not so much past past but I feel its still important to talk about…21!!! Nat became friends with 21 when he was a henchman (henchman 32), and found a sense of comfort in having someone else to dork out about nerdy stuff with. Even after he quit they stayed in contact and became close friends, with Natrix going as far as to do things like sneak onto the Venture Compound to visit him when he was a part of sphynx. I’d like to imagine the two of them got together around the end of season 4 - sometime season 5. They are not “i can make him worse”, or “I can make him better” but some rare 3rd thing where they both help each-other heal and move on from their respective traumas <3

EXTRA!!!!!!

Has a lower back tattoo with swirls and stars!! ^_^

Music is his everything, basing his whole villain motif around it even. Aside from that he really enjoys a plethora of average nerdy things like comics, DnD, and conventions!! Also LOVES 2000s internet stuff and trinkets :)

His bodys a little wonky so sometimes he just has random weird stuff going on…Examples; Glowing eyes in the dark, iridescent veins, sometimes shocking people (on accident) if they touch him, etc :P

Ok blahblahblah NATRIX PIC DUMP ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

[salemssimblr]

Sims - get to know me

I was tagged by @druidberries & @m0n0lithical! Thank yall for the tags!

I rarely actually play the game so take my answers with a grain of salt but this should be fun!

1. What’s your favourite sims death? Cowplant, hands down

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? For the longest time I was strictly Maxis Match but recently I've been way more Maxis Mix and I'm loving it

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? Nah I let it happen!

4. Do you use move objects? Religiously, I cannot build without it. Routing be damned!

5. Favorite mod? BBB, I cannot play this game without it. I also get ornery if I don't have UI cheats extension and more CAS columns.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? I was on the Sims 4 bandwagon from day 1, so Outdoor Retreat.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? Living. You've got build, buy, and live, at least that's how my brain rationalizes it.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? I'm obsessed with all of my rpg oc sims (Ariss, Katya, Nat, Kai, Calista, etc), but probably my favorite sim-sim, well that's hard too. I really love my Simeon Silversweater makeover, and Rhiannon Reinhardt is prob my fave original sim.

9. Have you made a simself? I have! I've made myself, my husband and our dog (: One day I'll have to render them and post pics, I'm sure they all need an update now.

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? Clumsy, creative, & paranoid lmao

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? Idk prob black or dark brown, so many of the other swatches look unnatural to me. I like the fun colors though, esp the lighter blue/cyan-y swatch.

12. Favorite EA hair? In terms of design, I really liked the braids that came with RoM and the really cool swatches, but I rarely ever use that hair.

13. Favorite life stage? YA cause it's the only one with adequate gameplay oops lmfao

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? BUILDER I rarely play the game at all but if I am I'm probably building. It seems every time I actually get into gameplay (which is rare in itself) something (a patch) comes along and breaks everything to the point where I can't anymore and I lose love for it all over again.

15. Are you a CC creator? I am! But only barely haha. I've made a few recolors and some art, but nothing from scratch YET. Soon hopefully

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? I do! I'm a moderator of @cozyacres's Cozy Cave discord server and I LOVE out little community there! I've also got so many wonderful mutuals here I love you all so much.

17. What’s your favorite game? Sims 3 was fantastic and if I remembered more of it I'd probably say 3, but I got really invested in the community for 4 and it does hold a special place in my heart even if it's deeply flawed. So, 4.

18. Do you have any sims merch? I do not.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? I have an account but I haven't posted anything yet! I'd like to one day post speed builds and speed renders, I just need to figure out my recording process (I tab out of what I'm doing so often that I feel like the editing would take a million years for me to remove all of my discord chats lmfao)

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I feel like my actual sims style hasn't changed too much, except that I've incorporated a lot more maxis mix/alpha into my style, but that's mostly for rendering and not actual gameplay.

21. What’s your Origin ID? SalemsSims! I have a few CC-free builds on the gallery (:

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? This is an impossible question to answer. I love so many for gameplay vs render resources.

23. How long have you had a simblr? I just legit checked cause I wasn't sure and it turns out I've been shitposting since 2019! Who knew!? lmao

24. How do you edit your pictures? I'm lucky enough to mooch off my dad's photoshop license. For renders and screenshots alike, I'll edit the brightness, contrast, levels and curves and then use a collection of PS actions/tweaking/blur/vignettes etc as necessary to get the effect I want.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? It's really hard to say... I've been excited for each one of them then disappointed in each one of them lmfao what a mood. I gotta say I was really pleasantly surprised by Werewolves, and HSY exceeded my expectations, even though both had their fair share of disappointments. I don't think I really have a favorite overall though (which is def a side effect of... not actually playing the game, lmao). But those two actually got me playing the game and that's saying something.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? Oops I own them all so, whatever comes next that strikes my fancy. Idk how I feel about the horse rumors though... we'll see if it's actually good or just another disappointment.

Tagging @chaoticsimlish, @reality-refuge, @raiiny-bay, @glammoose, @buttertrait, @crsentfairy, @glittermutt, @crazy-lazy-elder-sims & anyone else who wants to do this! My brain turns into a goldfish whenever it's time to tag so pls don't be offended if I didn't tag you!

[joe-moi]

I feel like I overhyped my theory so sorry if it’s lame… Okay so my theory is basically my two cents but this is solely based of my experiences from irl relationships and analyzing celebs for fun. So I was also the anon that suggested that Joe assimilated into her life but she hasn’t to his. And I know we go back and forth with how deep they’re in this. But since she didn’t show up yesterday I wanna go back and say maybe this isn’t as serious for him and it is for her. Okay so when ppl get in rs you only start introducing them to important ppl in your like after you know it’s serious right? Unless you met through mutual friends of course, but it’s still kinda sus to me that he’s been hanging out with her circle and kind of going along what she says but hasn’t really reciprocated, even with the pap pics. It makes me think this is how he protects his peace and basically his heart, he allows himself to be involved with his gf’s life but doesn’t let her do the same for him because he doesn’t want his romance seeping into his private personal life just yet. Like the fact that he went to the Burberry event but she wasn’t at the Fargo premiere, the fact that we got a sighting with her friends but nothing with nat and Charlie. Maybe over time we’ll see a change like if she visits on set during filming but as of right now he’s keeping the two aspects of his life heavily separated. I don’t think he’s ready for that kind of seriousness that she’s putting forth. Which may also be why he didn’t reciprocate in the pap pics. I’m sure they probably had a talk afterwards and thought DM was a happy medium but also DM isn’t a public tabloid yk? So his business isn’t completely “aired” out. I feel like he might have trauma from his past rs or maybe he knows the MO and duration of chase’s previous rs and doesn’t want to get super involved when it’ll end in a few months. I also think like others have said he simply doesn’t wanna be alone. It’s daunting to go from living with someone to living by yourself and after his breakup he was working a lot so he was rarely in NY and the few weeks/days he was here he probably filled it up by hanging out with friends and family. But this is the biggest stretch he’s been home alone and he probably misses someone or as ppl dub cuffing season 🕵️‍♀️ 

Ohh I love this!

I think you’re definitely on to something. Because something is up. We’ve only seen them or had big sightings of them on what is seemingly her terms? Meeting her friends, the Burberry event, the pap pics and from what we can tell she wasn’t at the whiskey thing or the Fargo event. So maybe you’re right, he’s protecting himself.

but my question is, what is he protecting himself from? If he’s doing that. I would think it’s he assumes that this might not last past filming? Or he’s just very timid because of what’s happened to him in the past. He doesn’t mind going and doing stuff with her people and doing stuff with her and for her, but when it comes to him, he seems to be a little bit more reserved.

I think a lot of people thought that she would show up at the Fargo thing, and I was very 50-50 on that. I felt like maybe it was so soon that she couldn’t go, or he just felt like he was gonna be too busy and didn’t invite her. Or they just were essentially taking this little break from each other to get some shit done before they can hang out again .

either way, I think that they are cute together, I still just don’t think it’s going to last for very long

[ptolemveamoved]

@dolledparts sent [x] for my muse's favorite photo of theirs . . .

𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈 & 𝐃𝐀𝐖𝐒𝐎𝐍 : romi's learned to love the great outdoors after embarking on this chaotic journey with dawson . . . after a less - than - savory experience at a seedy motel in bumf*ck nowhere , they both agreed to sleep in the bed of their beat - up chevy and woke up at sunrise to go for a hike . it was one of the quieter moments of their trip with no concern about getting caught in a riff with the law or being prepared to head elsewhere . just dawson , romi and nature for a little while . naturally , they had to snap a pic of dawson when they reached the end of the trail , only realizing how picturesque it was after the fact .

𝐂𝐎𝐄𝐍 & 𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 : after being given the daunting task of writing a song together , ollie invited coen over to toss around ideas and try to nail something down . while not without argument and a few searing lyrics , they realized their creative processes weren't so different and managed to piece something together after hours of brainstorming . it was the first time that ollie attempted to be civil for the sake of their music and she secretly took this picture of coen as he was sorting out the guitar accompaniment for his verse . she rarely speaks of the day but holds it close since it was the first official moment that she saw coen as a partner and not as a threat .

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 & 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 : nat's always wanted to be a part of a real family and they've found that in gentry and their furbaby princess peach . peach's favorite parent is gentry ( by a landslide ) but nat doesn't mind if they get to stand by and watch cute moments unfold like the one in the photo . the cat may have been acquired by questionable form of payment but nat would do it over and over again if it means they get to make gen happy and keep building their little family together . . . even if their story essentially ends with them being elderly , gay cat ladies together .

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 & 𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐘 : rainer is emery's constant plus one during her family's beach outings , her father viewing rainer as the son he never had ( until much later when they get married and he's their actual son - in - law ) . unfortunately , this beach outing was cut short by an unexpected rainstorm , emery waiting for rainer to make it back to shore before walking back to the car with him . despite the weather messing up their plans , emery still wanted to take a picture of rainer to commemorate the day . she's not sure if it's the small smile he's wearing that she didn't notice until after the photo was taken or how pretty he looks with rain and seawater dripping off of him but it's definitely one of her all - time favorites .

[ilovenataliewood]

Natalie Wood's last passport photo, 1981.

[buckyalpine]

Sprinkle

18+ minors dni Bucky x f reader

@cadencejames87 this was adorable, I love shy Bucky, that bb deserves to be protected forever, FOREVER (pic of the whole request posted below💕)

Warnings: FLUFF, Implied smut Word count: 2.6k

You ran down the hall, your arms full of documents you had to print out with information about the team’s latest mission. You’d only been working at the compound for a few months and in all honesty, it wasn’t as stressful as one would expect. You spent most of the day quietly keeping things in order behind the scenes, rarely seeing any of the avengers. Not that it mattered. Maybe it mattered just a little. There was one that you wouldn’t mind seeing more of. Handsome. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Brunette. Sharp nose. Metal arm. Metal arm.….Dear God, focus y/n.

You laid out the papers in the conference room, restocked the cups for the coffee machine, and set out some snacks. Today you opted for sprinkle donuts, deciding the team could use a drop of happiness in their day instead of the boring bran muffins the previous intern always left. You did a quick once over of the room, making sure everything was in place before the team walked in.

Your heart stopped working as you saw him in his all black outfit, your absolute favourite. You quietly slipped out of the room, your heart racing; the heat on your cheeks could have warmed frozen waffles. He was so fucking handsome. You went about the rest of your day, happily floating on cloud nine; it was rare you got to see him in person. Could you just go up and talk to him? Of course. Did you have the courage of a chicken nugget? Also of course. Happily admiring from afar would have to do…for now.

*****

“These are so cute!” Nat giggled, popping some of the sprinkles that fell off the donut, into her mouth. The donuts definitely made all the difference; most of the meeting went by with everyone giggling at sprinkles that clung to their lips.

“Mhm, that would be y/n’s doing” Tony chuckled, taking an extra donut for Morgan. Bucky smiled at the colourful little sugary confection; he never had a sprinkle donut before and it was delicious. And sweet. And soft. And bright. And bubbly. And adorable. And beautiful. With a cute smile. And so thoughtful. And he was no longer thinking about the donut, for fucks sakes Barnes. Bucky shook his head, trying to focus the meeting again but his mind was still distracted by…something…

Sprinkles.

*****

You shuffled through your closet, deciding to slip on your new dress (it was not a coincidence at all, that it was Bucky’s favourite color). It wasn’t something you’d usually wear to work but was a special day. His special day. You paired it off with your black boots that had tiny gold zippers, touching up your makeup before making your way to the office. With your heart heating out of your chest. Because it was his birthday today. And you had a plan in mind.

As the intern, you always made note of everyone’s birthday’s, sending out reminders for the rest of the team, arranging for catering and organizing the events for them. You never actually had to get anything for them.  But Bucky was different. You knew just about everything there was to know about the team; parties were not really Bucky’s thing. He wasn’t big on extravagant gifts. Most of the time he walked around looking like he just needed a hug. Bucky deserved more than that.  

You bought a large gift basket, hand picking items you knew he loved. You had his favourite tea and coffee, a box of candies that came from a store that packaged their sweets the same way from the 40’s, new leather gloves (with a note: if you ever need to feel safe; but you never have to hide), a few records of old music he listened to and a bunch of other little items that you hoped he’d enjoy.

You make it to the compound, waddling down the hall way carrying the gift box nearly the size of you. You went to the common room, pausing when you saw him talking to Sam and Steve. That wasn’t part of the plan but fuck it. You took a deep breath, marching right to him, wordlessly handing him the basket before turning away.

Bucky’s cheeks were dusted pink as he held the gift, his mouth opening and closing, words refusing to come out, what the fuck Barnes, say something. The three men stared at you, blinking, mouths gaping as you rounded the corner, disappearing out of their sight.You looked gorgeous. You always looked gorgeous but today was something else, Bucky’s eyes never left you, the colour of the dress complimenting you skin beautifully. Your boots made your hips sway as you walked.

“You’re blushing like a school girl” Sam snorted, looking at Bucky with a shit eating grin plastered on his face, “Just missing a little daisy crown and little pig tails-Ow!”

Bucky flicked Sam’s ear before setting down the giant box, carefully trying to inspect its contents without opening it in front of his best friend and best pain in the ass, though it was already probably too late. His not so secret crush was out in the open and he clearly didn’t hide it well.

“So this is why you keep taking so long to come back to our floor, I was wondering why you spent so much time wandering around that section of the tower” Steve wiggled his eyebrows, his smile growing wider as he remembered more. “WAIT- this is why he started getting coffee from the little French bakery y/n goes to!!”Both Sam and Steve cackled and clapped their hands madly, piecing together every single time Bucky had tried to slyly “run into you”.

Bucky’s heart raced as he contemplated the 101 ideas that were bouncing in his head. He should go after you. Or not. Yes he should. No. You were so fucking pretty. Bucky no. Wait, he didn’t even say thank you. Where were his manners, his ma would have served him on a platter.

He ignored Sam and Steve as they continued to snicker, running after you and jumping in the elevator just before it could close. You felt your heart in your mouth, the both of you standing in the elevator as the door closed. You nervously bit your lip, seeing him holding the large box in his arms, this was not part of the plan. Nope. Nope. No.

“Hi” You squeaked, eyes growing wide, you didn’t anticipate having to actually say anything to him but seriously, who the hell does that. You could have said happy birthday…happy birthday Bucky…you gorgeous, sexy, beefy, so hot you should fuck me sideways super soldier, I think you’re beautifu- nope. Never mind, this is why you didn’t speak.

“Hi” Bucky looked down at you, a shy smile playing on his face “Didn’t you want to see me open it?”

You jumped as the elevator dinged, coming to a stop on Bucky’s floor. Bucky looked to you, grinning when you nodded, his heart racing as you followed him to his room. He opened the door, setting the large box down, unable to control the smile that nearly made his cheeks hurt. It could a have been an empty box and the fact that it came from you would have still been the best gift he’d ever received.

You nervously fidgeted as he tore the paper away, lifting the lid, what if it was too much, what if he wouldn’t like it, what if-

Bucky gasped, stepping back as tons of little brightly coloured balloons flew out of the box, a little note on top of your care package that read

A Box of Sunshine to Brighten your Day

Bucky wordlessly stared at you, his expression unreadable. You bit your lip, worrying you’d over stepped; you were about to apologize when Bucky began speaking.

“Y-you did this all for me?” Bucky whispered, looking down at the little note and back to you. “This means a lot, really. It meant a lot. I- uh, you should come to Stark’s party tonight” He looked at you hopefully, his bright baby blue eyes sparkling. “It’d definitely make it worthwhile for me to go if…if you came?”

You smiled at your feet, feeling your entire body heat up; pinching your skin a little to be sure this wasn’t all a dream.

“I’d love to go but isn’t it your party? I wouldn’t want to impose-

“Every party is a Stark party” Bucky snorted, “But you’re right. And that means I can decide who I want there. I’d really like for you to come..Sprinkle”

*****

“You look fine punk” Steve cocked an eyebrow, watching Bucky nervously fidget with his shirt, a hand running over his beard, the blush of his cheeks growing stronger. “I’m sure your little sprinkle would agree”

“It’s not like that” Bucky groaned, regretting letting the name he had for you slip out in a conversation. You were a sweet heart, but that was just who you were. You were a little drop of sunshine for everyone. Just because you got him the perfect gift with every little detail perfect, right down to his favourite brand of gloves meant nothing special. You would have done that for anyone. Not that you did before but…

“Uh huh, so you changed into ten different shirts for no reason? This coming from the guy who hasn’t enjoyed parties in the past 80 years” Steve gave his friend a pointed look, chuckling when Bucky refused to make eye contact.

“Shut up” Bucky mumbled, poorly hiding his little smirk as they both made their way downstairs.

*****

You fixed your hair for the 8th time, triple checking your dress in the mirror before slipping your heels on. You were excited as hell but also nervous… Bucky had invited you to his party. The very Bucky Barnes. You’d organized hundreds of these parties but you never went to them. This would be the first one. You giggled to yourself, thinking about the puppy like wonder Bucky had on his face when the balloons flew out of the box. The way his face flushed asking you to come. The way he called you sprinkle.

Calm down y/n.

He was just being nice, he’d always been such a gentleman. You decided not to read into anything, failing to keep the little smile off your face, fuck he was adorable.

*****

Bucky sat on a lounge chair, sipping on his whiskey, his heart stopping as he saw you shyly making your way towards him. You were in another perfect dress, the material wrapping around your body perfectly, another thing he’d love to unwrap- stop. Bad Bucky.  

“Happy Birthday Soldier” You whispered your eyes unable to move from his handsome form. He was already gorgeous on a regular day but now? His eyes gazing at you, his tongue daring out to lick his bottom lip, those lips…so..soft…stop. His legs were slightly spread apart and what you would do to curl up right on his lap- fuck, stop. You took a seat beside him, keeping some distance between you both, mostly because you were sure his super senses would detect how warm your body was.

“You-you look beautiful y/n” Bucky smiled, swallowing thickly when you giggled, oh god that sound.

*****

The team carefully watched you both from a corner, making sure to keep their distance so they wouldn’t be seen.

“How long till they get together”

“I give it 1 hour tops, they’re both giving each other fuck me eyes”

“Barnes is one second away from combusting; can his old heart actually handle having a crush?”

“They’re both shy, you think they’ll at least hold hands?”

“Y’know he calls her sprinkle? Cause of the donuts?”

“AWWW I ship them”

“What the hell does that mean Parker”

*****

“Did you want to get a drink?” Bucky nervously shifted beside you, you were so precious and you were making it impossible for his nerves to calm down.  You smiled, nodding, taking his extended hand, the both of you walking towards the bar. You both took a seat at the stools that were off to a more secluded area.

“I really loved everything you got me” He whispered, not telling you that after you left, the tears fell freely, no one had ever gotten him something so thoughtful. “No one’s ever gotten me something so special”

“You deserve it Bucky” You said sincerely, sucking in a breath, placing your hand gently on top of his. You relaxed a little when he didn’t pull away, your heart racing when he held your hand instead. Don’t over think it, don’t over think it. Conversation started to easily flow between you both, and on the outside, it looked like everything was going great.

On the inside, the both of you shook, unsure of how the other felt, unsure if there were any mutual feelings, unsure if you were reading into things, maybe there was something? No, probably not…maybe?

*****

“Is it everything you ever wanted it to be” You giggled, looking at the wild party that was taking place, a Stark part indeed.

“There’s…there’s one more thing…that I’d like…” Bucky’s eyes shifted, his cheeks blushing as he played with your fingers. You cocked your head urging for him to continue. “Dance with me?”

You both swayed on the dance floor, his hands gently holding your waist, your hands resting on his chest. You were glad he was holding you because if not, you would have definitely collapsed. His cologne and distinct scent that made him Bucky evaded your senses and you nearly felt light headed, nothing would ever smell as good. The warmth of his fingers, playing on the bare skin of your back gave you goose bumps.

“Thank you for coming” Bucky whispered against your ear, his lips gently brushing against your skin. You perfume was driving him inside and it was taking all his super soldier strength not to throw you over his shoulder. The softness of your skin against his lips was something he wanted to feel every night and every morning when he woke up.

“Thank you for inviting me” You smiled up at him, your eyes darting from his lips to meet his eye sand back to his lips fuck they were so perfect. Your heart raced as he hesitantly leaned in, his hands gripping you harder when you stood on your toes to meet his lips. His soft lips moulded perfectly against yours, moving slowly, savouring every second of the kiss, the both of you forgetting you were still in the middle of the dance floor, not that anyone seemed to mind.

*****

“THEY’RE KISSING, I REPEAT THEY’RE KISSING!!”

“Oh shit, he made a move!  Get it tinman!”

“They’re so sweet!”

“100 bucks says they bang tonight, who wants in”

“Don’t be gross. I’m in”

“I’m in, but my money’s on Sprinkle”

“Y/n is too sweet for that” 

“Whatever you say” 

*****

“S-sorry” Bucky pulled away before he went any further, his hands twitching, trying so hard not to grab you. “I just- you’re so- I, I really like-” Your lips cut off his flustered rambling as he moaned into the kiss, his tongue happily exploring your mouth, his hands coming to cup your face. You need more. If he wasn’t going to throw you over his shoulder then-

Fuck it.

Bucky stared at you, wide eyed as you took his hand in yours, dragging him out of the party and to your room. You both look at each other for a moment before clothes were thrown off, his hands flying to pick you up and wrap your legs around his waist, dropping you onto your bed.

“Enjoying your party now?” you giggled breathlessly, biting your lip feeling his body weight rest on top of you, his eyes sparkling as he gazed down at you.

“Best. Birthday. Ever, Sprinkle” Bucky sweetly kissed your nose before trailing kisses down your body, he was going to savour this all night.

Back at the party

“I told you sprinkle would make a move”

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed! (also this is an 18+ blog, I can’t tag nameless/ageless blogs)  

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[yvesette]

RED VELVET AS GIRLFRIENDS (sfw)

IRENE

- very loving and extremely protective over you

- it took her a lot to build up the confidence to ask you out and she was so quiet while asking you could barely hear her

- her love language: gift giving !!

- irene is the most gracious person ever she shows so much care for friends, family, staff, etc. and spoils them so much so it’s a no-brainer she spoils the hell out of you.

- if you’re younger than her she probably babies you and often lectures teasingly

- messages you everyday reminding you to eat and asking if you’ve got enough sleep

- it’s impossible not to feel comforted with her

- the warmest person vibes ever

- accepts you for every flaw you have, and vice versa

- she falls deeper in love with you every day you spend together- as corny as it sounds

- you’re each others go-to person for anything you need

- “have fun but be safe okay?”

- she’s not very vocal about her love for you but she doesn’t need to be. you and everyone else know how special you are to her and the way she looks at you is just :( <3

- a bit old fashioned- opens the door for you and buys you lots of flowers so you always have a fresh bouquet

- not a lot of pda- but in private there’s lots of passionate kisses. she takes her time with everything and soaks up every moment she spends with you

SEULGI

- seulgi doesn’t overcomplicate love, it’s fun and simple and exciting with her.

- love with the seulgi is the type that makes you feel alive

- you’re definitely the protective one in the relationship but seulgi can get defensive if anyone dares hurt you

- she takes you on dates that get you out of your comfort zone - karaoke, sky diving, snorkeling…she wants you both to grow and become the best versions of yourselves

- a total love bug, very clingy and very affectionate. this includes hugs from behind, lots of cheek kisses and smothering you with love and cuddles when you both get home

- the type of gf who is so observant like you’ll mention you like something months before and seulgi will buy it for your next birthday

- good morning and good night texts every damn day

- extremely loyal and values honestly so so much she’ll tell you everything

- your family adores her she’s so good w making ppl love her just as much as you do

- if you’re upset she’ll cry with you, hugging you and kissing the top of your head whispering how everything is gonna be okay.

WENDY

- such girlfriend material honestly…

- the biggest flirt even before you were dating and she totally confessed first.

- the most playful and cheesy gf ever- calls you the most ridiculous and corny nicknames

- spoils you so much

- definitely the protective one

- holds your waist as you walk (even if you’re taller bc she’s only 5’1 i believe lol) she’s very protective over her y/n okay !!

- can be extremely romantic when she wants to, i’m talking candlelit dinners where she serenades you with a nat king coke or frank sinatra

- kisses every part of your face she can reach and is bound to make you blush at just a look

- very affectionate in public and around the members and winks all corny at you when she says something suggestive-making the members notice and tease you both endlessly

- forehead kisses!!!

- the two of you have the most personal and hilarious inside jokes nobody gets but you both

- the big spoon even if she’s smaller than you lolll

JOY

- the sweetest girl ever actually

- probably confessed first since she’s just confident like that

- said i love you first too and the two of you say it so casually every single time you leave each other

- very elaborate dates- picnics in the park with your dogs…amusement parks…trips to jeju, art museum dates where you recreate the couples in paintings, etc.

- so. many. couple items. like the two of you rarely don’t match.

- posts so many pics of you both on her priv account

- lots of silly blushing moments when the two of you get close physically and she can’t help but blush and giggle in serious moments

- plain dramatic sometimes and makes you go grab the remote even if it’s right next to her but it’s all good bc u love her sm

- she loves to do to makeup sm!! or flat out spoil you with a skincare routine or massage etc.

YERI

- this confession had to dramatic as hell idk why but i get the feeling it could have been either of you and a long time coming

- definition of friends to lovers or i could even see rivals to lovers hehe

- loves wrapping her arms around you when she sees you

- she’s almost never by your side or hooked onto your arm like a koala

- always grabs your hand as you walk together and you can’t imagine walking together without holding hands at this point

- has you saved in her phone as something like loml <3 and the members all tease her about it

- you tease each other sm it’s honestly annoying

- speaking of annoying…the two of you are so affectionate it’s tiresome!! everyone rolls their eyes as you both rub noses or she snuggles into your side and you exchange corny little love confessions. everyone is sick and tired but it’s okay bc they know you both love each other sm

- she’d totally get a matching tattoo with you- something small but meaningful

- sits on your lap while you do work

- always falls asleep on movie nights first in your arms

- becomes the biggest bitch ever when someone flirts with you and is totally jealous over the littlest things (she’s very possessive ok!)

- she’d post your favorite song on her instagram story with a black heart or something cute like that when she’s away

- chaotic facetime calls until 3 am where you both fall asleep on call

[necklesslapras]

I occasionally trawl through Mercari to find rare/strange pokemon merch but for whatever reason it never occurred to me to check it for necklas until just now... and found that I missed one by not too long _(:'3」∠)_

SURE I definitely wouldn't have bought it for that price but it's the PRINCIPLE of the thing damnit.

The pics they have don't give a good sense of scale but it looks to be the same size as Natasha. The only other Nat-sized one I've seen.

[s-horne]

based on this prompt, making this a 1500 word stony meet-ugly... 

**

Tony was about to fall asleep when his phone suddenly started to buzz. Groaning, he threw his hand over his face and cursed the day that he’d made his agreement with Natasha. But he had made the deal and there was no going back, for better or for worse.

With another loud groan and a childish kick of his legs, Tony reached for his phone and lifted it to his ear.

“Hello?” he snapped and he didn’t even have to fake the agitation for once. He was genuinely exhausted and he didn’t like to be interrupted on the verge of sleep when it happened so rarely. “Hello?”

“Oh, uh, hi? I - is Nat there?”

“Nat? Who the fuck is this?”

There was a short pause before someone cleared their throat. “Sorry, sorry. I thought... I met Nat tonight? We got chatting in a bar.”

“Well, that’s obviously bullshit,” Tony said, looking up at the ceiling. It made a change, really, that the guy sounded quite unsure of himself. And not at all like the usual shitty men that Natasha seemed to attract, with his questions and his soft tone. “I’ve never heard of a Nat and this number belongs to a family friend who’s been dead for fifteen years.”

“Oh god. Oh god, I’m sorry. I - I only wanted to. Fuck, I’m sorry.” The voice actually sounded it, the man almost tripping over his words in haste to apologise. Tony hadn’t had a call like it before and he found himself oddly curious. “I swear she gave me this number. I only wanted to see if she wanted coffee. She – I’m–”

“Woah. Woah, dude,” Tony said quickly, waving his hand in front of himself as though the stranger would see it, “it’s alright. I’m messing, wow.”

“What?”

“I’m Tony, Nat’s best friend.”

There was a pause before, “what?”

Rolling onto his side, Tony tucked his free hand under his head and bit back a yawn. “It’s a thing we do. Nat isn’t exactly good with guys. No exactly about it, actually, she’s the worst at picking men.” And that included all of Tony’s bad decisions - and he’d made a lot of them in his college youth. And his adulthood, for that matter.

“So you... what is it that you do here?”

“Whenever I don’t go out with her, she gives my number out to the people she can’t get rid of and I answer the phone when they call and give them the dead person’s number speech.”

“Oh. Oh, so, that... That makes me a person that she couldn’t get rid of.”

Whoops. It did, indeed. “Yeah, sorry about that. You sound different to the others, though, if that’s any consolation? There’s a lot less cursing and yelling.”

“People curse at you?”

“Uh, yeah, Romeo. Did you not hear the part about Nat not knowing how to pick guys and having to give out a fake number?”

There was a soft laugh before a cough. “Sorry. That makes sense. I – I’ll let you go, then. It’s late.”

“It is,” Tony mused, biting down on a yawn. He’d been up for a few days writing code for hours until his eyes blurred and his fingers hurt, which was the reason that he’d had to leave Natasha alone at the bar and sign himself up to receive at least one phone call. As tired as he was, there was still something intriguing about the call and he found himself not willing to hang up. “You must have been eager.”

“I was,” the man said and Tony almost jolted with the honesty in his voice. It wasn’t hidden behind bravado or cockiness, or played off as a joke. “You’ve met her, right? Can you blame me?”

“Absolutely not. You forget that this isn’t the first call I’ve had, late-night-Lothario.”

“Oh. Right. Of course not. I just wanted to talk to her, though. She’s clever.”

Tony had been about to agree, when the words hit him and he frowned. “What?”

“Nat? She’s clever.”

“She’s a genius,” Tony said automatically, “but no one ever says that. They only ever talk about how hot she is, or what she was wearing, or what they wanted to do to her.”

“I didn’t want to do anything to her,” was the slightly bemused answer, “she was talking about her work and it was interesting. I used to beg my Ma to take me to museums every weekend and I thought it sounded so fun to be paid to be there.”

Nerd. “You were in a bar and you wanted to talk about museums?”

“Okay, when you put it like that I sound like a nerd.”

Tony snorted. “You said it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man huffed a short laugh, “I get it. I’m a loser. Maybe that’s why she - well. Who wants to talk about work at a bar, right? She was really cool, though. And seemed super – I don’t know, open? Easy to talk to and I thought she was in to it.”

To be fair to the guy, Natasha had the sort of personality that drew everyone in and she knew how to make use of her sultry gaze, always making whoever she was talking to feel as though they were the centre of the universe; for better or for worse.

“Sorry, dude. You,” Tony sighed and rolled onto his back, “you sound like a nice guy, but Nat’s careful.” 

Too careful, sometimes. For a stupid, brief moment, Tony almost contemplated asking for the guy’s name and maybe making Natasha reconsider. It was time for her to meet someone and Tony could vouch for the guy, in a weird sort of way.

“I’ll let you go,” came the quiet voice down the phone before Tony could open his mouth, “I... tell her I’m sorry, please?”

“What?”

“For whatever I did. However I made her uncomfortable. I’ll work on it, I swear. I don’t want anyone else to… I’m glad she had this method. It made me–”

“Woah, hey, uh…”

“Oh. Steve.”

“Listen, Steve,” Tony sat up and ran his hand through his hair, cursing his friend and his tired mind and the way that he seemed to be feeling something other than annoyance towards the asshole who had apparently made his friend uncomfortable. “You’re already miles ahead of the others by even saying sorry. I’m sure that–,” his phone buzzed in his hand before he could finish his thought and he muttered a curse as he pulled it away from his ear. “Steve? Hang on – I, oh. It’s from Nat.”

“What?”

“Nat’s texted,” Tony said, feeling as confused as Steve sounded as he read the text a few times.

“Oh, God. Is it about me? What did I do?”

Tony swallowed. “She, uh, she’s said ‘only gave it out once tonight! He’s a nerd, a gym-buff, and a sweetheart. Definitely your type and caught him looking at my lock screen pic of you more than once. Go for it’.”

“I... what?”

“That about sums it up,” Tony said on a slight chuckle. He ran his hand over his face and his laugh grew stronger. “You’re not an asshole at all, are you?”

Tony could almost feel Steve’s frown through the cell as he lifted it back to his ear and heard Steve’s confused voice. “I – I’m gonna go with no. I hope I’m not and I really, really would like to think this is some giant misunderstanding.”

Falling back onto his mattress, Tony grinned. “Nat’s the asshole tonight, Casanova. I think we’ve been set up.”

A deep sigh sounded in Tony’s ear, the following laugh as throaty as it was relieved. “What?”

“I think I was supposed to get the text before the phone call, in fairness to her. Don’t think she expected you to be so eager, though…”

“Oh, my God,” Steve said. “I’m never going to live that down.”

“You don’t sound all that upset,” Tony mused. He knew he wasn’t a patch on Natasha, but he did actually like the photo someone had taken of the two of them at Natasha’s last work gala. Maybe there was hope.

“I’m not. Not if you’re the guy from her lock screen,” Steve said and Tony laughed loudly at the clearly audible smirk.

“Guilty as charged.” A few more grey hairs, though, and an eye-bag or two, but who was counting?

“There we go then. A win all-round for me. I’m not an asshole and I got the actual number of a gorgeous guy. In all honesty, though, thank you. I thought I was gonna have to call my Ma and make her take me to her book club again.”

“Nope,” Tony said, pulling the comforter over himself again as he got comfortable, Steve’s laughter in his ear. “You’ve lost me.”

“Oh,” Steve said and Tony could really appreciate how nice his voice was when he wasn’t tense, “it’s a long story.”

“A bedtime story? I hear those help people sleep.”

“Isn’t it a little late for that?”

Tony grinned, fingers tightening on the phone when Steve’s voice dropped a little. “I don’t know. Depends what time you go to bed.”

“Alright, alright. I guess I have time for one short story.”

Dammit, but Natasha really did know how to pick them, Tony thought as he settled in to hear about book club.

[bisluthq]

I’m not a jack or sersh fan but I’m so jealous because when they are spotted someone updates Nat and yall break down their pic and cutely discuss it and just call it “cute😍” and move on. Whenever Joe and Taylor are spotted (which is MUCH more rare than any couple) I’m so excited and come on here so we can discuss it and just go “cute❤️” but when I open the blog it’s just Nat tryna put some sense into anons against reality and antis. It’s so annoying can y’all just anti on a blog that supports your anti’ing? Like spades or some other kaylor/gaylor? please let us enjoy spottings of our faves in peace and discuss it?

🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼

[bex-la-get]

Beautiful Bex! Here are the newlywed questions for E&N :)

Notes: Answer the following with pictures (dialogue from your characters is optional!). Collages are highly encouraged if you want to answer a question with multiple pictures because tumblr mobile only allows 10 total pics (there are 10 questions). Otherwise, tumblr on a desktop lets you add multiple pictures!

Also, don’t worry about picking pictures of your face claim (if any) to answer these! Any picture of the outfit/place, no matter who is wearing it, makes absolute sense! Have fun!

For MC

Favorite picture of Ethan at your wedding?

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of him or otherwise)?

Favorite outfit(s) on him?

What does your home look like?

Picture of your spouse's last purchase.

For Ethan

Favorite picture of your wife at your wedding?

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of her or otherwise)?

Favorite outfit(s) on him/her?

Picture of a dream getaway or date you would surprise her with?

Last picture she sent you.

Alright, let's do this! So, to clarify: I've numbered the pictures in order of the questions asked so you know which picture corresponds with what question. Nat & E will also have some comments to throw in here and there so I hope you enjoy it! Thanks babes! 💙

For Natalie:

Favorite picture of Ethan at your wedding?

All of them. But this one in particular I really like ‘cause he looks extra supermodel-y. Is that a word? Who cares, you get what I mean. Also, I’m pretty sure he was glaring at Bryce which makes it 10x funnier!

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of him or otherwise)?

He took me to Italy for our honeymoon and he insisted on trying every type of wine he could get his hands on. He's so bougie but I love it.

Favorite outfit(s) on him?

I love it when he's in jeans and a t-shirt. It's so rare for him to not be dressed up so his more casual looks are some of my favorites!

What does your home look like?

Ethan loves clean lines and a modern look while I'm a bit more rustic and traditional. Our home is some combination of both.

Picture of your spouse's last purchase.

Remember when I said he was bougie? I wasn't kidding. He just brought home a brand new, fancy ass espresso machine, despite the fact that we already have a high end coffee maker. His reason? "I want to make my own espresso." Bou. Gie. Not that I'm complaining. 😉

For Ethan:

Favorite picture of your wife at your wedding?

Our photographer was really good at getting candid photos. I’m not entirely sure what Nat was doing when this picture was taken but I’ve always loved it.

Favorite picture on your honeymoon (of her or otherwise)?

I caught this great candid of her while she was walking along the riverside in Italy. She looked up at me and smiled right as I took the picture. She literally can’t take a bad photo, I’m pretty sure it’s impossible.

Favorite outfit(s) on him/her?

Nat looks great in everything but I’ll always be partial to that velvet red dress she has. 

Picture of a dream getaway or date you would surprise her with?

Nat’s been obsessed with this little town in France called Colmar for as long as I can remember. If I ever surprise her with a trip somewhere, it’ll be there.

Last picture she sent you.

She had taken Jenner on a walk and I guess the two of them decided to have a relaxing break in the grass. She sent me this photo while she was out. It now sits on my desk in my office.

A/N: Hope you liked these, lovely! Thanks for the fun asks!

[imaginesofharrypotter]

Asgardian ale

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Thor brought some Asgardian booze to the party. Surely, nothing can go wrong.

Warnings: a little bit of angst I guess, but mostly fluffy Bucky

Last night, it was one of Tony Stark's notorious parties but only including the Avengers. Everyone was dragged there as it was mandatory, "team-building fun" as Tony liked to put it. Surprisingly enough Thor showed up and brought something with him that made the party all the more exciting: Asgardian ale.

You see, the two super soldiers were so enhanced that they could never get drunk and let loose, with human alcohol that is. It was truly a sight to behold. Pre-serum Steve had so many ill conditions that alcohol was off-limit and boy, did he enjoy the calm feeling of the booze. The always polite Captain America ran around the tower shouting nonsense, swearing while he tried to lift Thor's hammer and cutely but miserably flirting with Natasha (but given the unlikely situation, it made the assassin blush nonetheless)

You were laughing your ass off on the couch with Wanda when two strong arms draped around your shoulder making you look up.

"Hi Soldier" - you greeted your boyfriend who had an adorable cheeky grin on his face

"Hi, Beautiful" - he planted a sloppy kiss on your mouth that made all eyes wander from Steve towards the two of you

You see, Bucky never was a fan of PDA, rarely showing affection when the others were around. That was fine with you, you understood that he was a private person, and it made his love for you even more precious, knowing he would make it up when in your shared room alone. He was a big, sentimental, clingy, and handsy person and you wouldn't have it any other way. It was so sweet that you were the only one seeing this affectionate side of him... Up until last night.

"I miss youuuu" he purred in your ear, tone slightly slurred by the alcohol

"But I'm right here, Buck" - you cocked an eyebrow and smiled sweetly at him

"I miss your warmth" - he cornered the couch and sat down next to you, instantly wrapping his arms around you in a side hug, nuzzling your neck.

"Better?" - you asked in a whisper as you started stroking his hair, just the way he likes it

"Soooo much" - he purred again, closing his eyes and inhaling your scent - "You smell so gooood"

You chuckled lightly and yelped as you felt yourself being lifted. You landed on Bucky's lap, him pulling you flesh to him and tightly wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on one of your shoulders. You laid back and let yourself relax in your boyfriend's embrace, closing your eyes, and feeling utterly content. That is until a flash went off.

"Hey" - you exclaimed as you saw Sam holding his phone and showing the photo that he just took to everyone

"Oh, calm down Snowflake, it's not every day that we get to see Mr. Grumpy so kind and calm." - he shrugged his shoulders

"At least send it to me then." - you asked him, already knowing what your new phone wallpaper will be

You lightly turned your head to see Bucky's reaction, only to find him still in the same position, contently sitting with closed eyes and a little smile plastered on his face.

The rest of the night mostly contained talking and laughing as everyone gathered around you. During the late hours, slowly, everyone went back to their rooms. You haven't failed to see Steve following Nat out and to her room. You smiled to yourself then you tried to think about a way to get you and Bucky into a comfortable position to sleep. You assumed that he had fallen asleep a long time ago as he never said a word all night, nor did he move after snuggling up with you. You slowly loosened his arms around you.

"Wanna go to sleep, doll?" - he asked and you jumped a little bit on his lap - "Sorry to startle you" - he chuckled lightly and hugged you tightly again

"It's okay, I just thought you were asleep" - you turned halfway and smiled down lovingly at him

"Nope" - he popped the p in it - "Was just too comfortable to move or say anything" - Bucky smiled goofily up at you while your heart melted

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself" - you caressed one of his cheeks, basking in the feeling as he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch - "Are you feeling sleepy yet?"

"I could sleep" - he mumbled tiredly while picking you up bridal style and carrying you to your shared bedroom

He put you on the floor and kissed you sweetly. It was a gentle and loved filled kiss, not hungry, nor rushing, just full of passion. He pulled away and undressed you slowly, trailing little wet kisses on your skin as he exposed it. After you were only standing in your panties he walked to the closet, picked out one of his T-shirts, and pulled it over you. Bucky loved it when you wore his clothes, it was a sense of pride that you were his and his alone. You started to undress him too, focusing on his clothing but you knew his gaze never left you as he followed your every movement with an expression filled with adoration. You pulled out a drawer and picked out a fresh boxer for him and panties for you. You both changed and got under the covers, Bucky instantly nuzzling your stomach and wrapping his arms around you the best he could. You reflexively started to card your fingers through his luscious brown locks and felt him hum against your skin while planting a soft kiss on it.

"I love it so much when you are this affectionate" - you laid your head on the soft pillow

"I can't help it, you are so soft and warm, the best feeling ever" - he mumbled softly and you heard his breath even out

"Sweet dreams, my love" - you kissed the crown of his head gently and drifted to sleep yourself

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A loud crash woke you up from your slumber. You turned around, wanting nothing more than to nuzzle into your boyfriend's warm body, but you found his spot empty and cold.

You yawned and walked to the kitchen to get some breakfast for yourself. Steve was already there, making coffee for himself, his back to you.

"Well, well, I didn't know purple was on the new Captain America color palette" - you commented with an obvious smirk as you saw the not so little love bites around his neck"

"Thor should definitely not bring that ale on a party again" - he laughed nervously while turning around and sipping his coffee

"Ohhh, on the contrary, Stevie. I will personally ask him to do so if it makes you finally admit your feelings" - your smiled turned more soft - "How much do you remember?"

"Everything" - he face-palmed himself - "The strength of the alcohol was enough to set me loose but not enough to make me forget things or even to have a hangover"

With that, you took out your phone to check social media. The first pic that came up nearly made you drop the device. Before you could ask Steve about it, Sam came running into the room, screaming, while a very angry looking Bucky followed him with heavy steps.

"Take it down" - your boyfriend demanded with a growl, the authority in his voice making your legs week

"No way man, where is the fun in it, there are already thousands of view on it" - Sam retorted while trying to hide behind you, knowing Bucky would never hurt you

"Oh, no, you are not getting me into this" - you stepped away, but towards your love - "Sweatheart, what got you this mad?"

"Oh, why not ask Birdie here?" - he still threw daggers with his eyes towards Sam

You thought about the post with the caption "The big bad Winter Soldier is actually a big softie #BuckyBear" that Wilson made and uploaded.

"Is this about the picture from last night? Do you not like it?" - you asked softly

"Of course I do, you are on it" - he smiled lovingly at you, his voice softened - "But other people aren't supposed to see and like it" - he mumbled and pouted like an adorable child

"Oh, honey, but we look so good. We've been together for almost two years, it's only natural that we love being affectionate towards each other" - you put your hands on his cheeks, lightly caressing them

"So it wouldn't bother you if I hold your hand or kiss you in front of others?" - he asked shyly, avoiding eye contact

"Of course not. I would really love that. But I respect your choice of privacy if it's not okay with you." - you reassured him

He didn't answer verbally, just bent down and captured your lips in a passionate, deep kiss.

"Ewww, get a room" - Sam exclaimed loudly, making you break the kiss

"You cooked yourself a meal, now you're gonna eat it" - and with that, you went back kissing Bucky

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From that moment on, Bucky always kept an arm around you and was never afraid to show his love for you. It turned out that he was a real sucker for PDA, knowing you loved his attention. You were also able to finally shower him with love anytime you wanted, to cuddle up to him and relax, and to go to long walks, holding hands. You two were never overdoing it though, but the team never minded it anyway. Everyone knew how happy and calm moments are so rare in the field of work you were doing, they were truly happy for you. Maybe Sam not so much, especially when Bucky randomly grabbed you and kissed you deeply whenever he walked in, pissing him off and reminding him that he never should invade your privacy again. Oh, and Bucky never admitted it, but he actually was grateful for Sam to take the photo that now served as his wallpaper too.

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Author's note: I have a bunch of ideas of Bucky, so most probably I'm gonna post about him for a while. But also really wanna write something sweet for Tj Hammond. What are your thoughts? Have a lovely day ^^