#sorry guys <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[arthursfuckinghat]

The use of the journal in rdr1 is very different compared to rdr2, it's used more as a log of current missions/tasks in a brief form. There's no actual writing or drawing in it, just text, John cannot physically open the journal since it's simply an option you press to view from the start menu.

But from a story perspective, I see it as something pretty interesting.

Let's say that John was actually writing these brief and short sentences about his tasks, then it makes me think that maybe by 1911, he was running out of room to write in Arthur's journal.

As in, maybe there was only a handful or more pages left and he wanted to still use the journal, but still save as much room as he could. Maybe he saved paper by not drawing and doodling, by being more brief and to the point with what goes on in his day to day life, by making his writing smaller and taking longer to write to make sure he made no spelling mistakes, all little sacrifices to make sure that he could hold onto his brother's journal for just a bit longer.

So he could hold onto the memory of his brother for a bit longer.

[himbros]

When’s your test, Detective?

I don’t need one.

𖦹

Day 2: Scars

Day 3: Apprentice

𖦹

I forgot about the October daily challenges….. my bad.

Late start to Sawtober though, so I combined days 2 and 3. Yippee!

[lilac-gold]

the way i can't stop thinking about how kel's thirteenth birthday would've most likely been spent alone. the recital took place around october time, and kel's birthday was only a month later. by the time it came, he'd lost everyone. hero stayed unresponsive and miserable in their room. sunny locked himself in his house. as we see in canon, basil was really torn up with guilt afterwards. i can see him and aubrey clinging to each other, but they broke apart sometime over the four years. mari's death hurt everyone. but imagine how it must have felt trying to celebrate not even a month after she'd died.

happy belated birthday kel, you little silly <3

[merriclo]

quick psa: i chit chat a lot about rabies on here so i feel the need to clarify that, if you are in a first world country, the likelihood of you ever encountering a rabid animal is very low. getting the vaccine after being in contact with wild animals (either by being bitten, slobbered on, or handling one that’s injured) or being in close proximity to bats is simply a precaution. a very necessary precaution, rabies is not to be fucked with, but one that protects against the absolute worst case scenario. rabies is largely eradicated in first world countries, with only about 10 annual cases of it claiming a life in countries like the United States.

i’m saying this incase my ramblings have instilled any kind of fear in anyone. while it isn’t to be trifled with, if you live in a first world country you also don’t really have to worry. just don’t go near wild animals, call animal control if you do encounter an animal with signs of rabies, and try not to get close to bats. if you do, get the damn vaccine.

tl;dr please don’t lose sleep over my jibber jabbering if you’re in a first world country. you, thankfully, don’t have much to worry about in regards to rabies, due to the efforts of many organizations and policies that we are fortunate enough to have

[adventures-written]

;; So some IRL stuff is happening that might make me a bit scarce or focused on smaller things for a bit. I did finish all of my drafts and queued them up. I have some ask prompts to tackle, but I am not sure if I will manage to get through them before my activity comes and goes. 

That being said, please feel free to send in prompts or poke the muses as those will be the things that have my attention the most when I can get on.

All my drafts are in the queue and should post 4 drafts per day and then 4 other items (art, prompts, etc). I queued 8 things/day for the next week or so in total. I didn’t want to just spam with my drafts and I also wanted to ensure I had some spacing between their postings. They are in no particular order so I apologize if something you wanted is towards the end of the queue.

I can’t discuss what’s going on, but don’t worry I’m safe. Just super stressed out.

Hoping to try and be on either way, but this is a just in case measure I decided to take.

As always, have fun and poke the beans if you so wish! <3

I will probably schedule this post for the day crowed too.

[archivistsandlibrarians]

Sorry for the delay on the semi-finals! I've got an ao3's author's note level of stuff going on right now so I've been putting it off. It will continue soon, I promise!

[ihaveab0y]

oh you feeling thoughts are you gorgeous? well why don’t we do something about that, hm?

[mediumtires]

tw cw // drugs

had a few responses to this ask from a while ago and while i usually love engaging with your thoughts and ideas and theories, i’m pretty uncomfortable with discourse on drugs of any kind on here so won’t be replying now or in the future regarding that. also please don’t send me those kind of asks, thank you, sorry guys, big love though 🫶🏼

[novamirmirsblog]

I posted 499 times in 2022

172 posts created (34%)

327 posts reblogged (66%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@novamirmirsblog

@simpfornatasharomanoff

@just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

@missmonsters2

I tagged 182 of my posts in 2022

#natasha romanoff x reader - 13 posts

#natasha romanoff - 13 posts

#natasha romanoff imagine - 11 posts

#natasha x y/n - 10 posts

#black widow - 9 posts

#natasha x you - 9 posts

#natasha x reader - 9 posts

#natasha romanov x reader - 9 posts

#black widow x reader - 9 posts

#natasha romanoff x you - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#sometimes i’m shocked when anons send me messages that include details about my life but then i remember i literally use this app as a diary

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Fading Memories

Word count: 1839

Request: Yes

Genre: angst

Warnings: possible tears, sad nat

A/N: y'all got a fluffy Loki fic, now have an angsty Natasha fic. Also, I cried while writing this and then realised I'm on my period so just know that I wont be rereading this anytime soon so any mistakes are just gonna have to stay for a while :) also blame @simpfornatasharomanoff for the sad ending. She had a choice and two of the three choices were happy but bestie chose the angsty one &lt;3

Something was wrong.

"Morning Y/n." You snapped out of whatever daze you were in, smiling and greeting Steve. "You ready to train some new recruits?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." That one sentence bought everything back. How could you have forgotten something as important as training potential future SHIELD agents? No matter. You remembered now and that was what was important.

The thought scratched inside your brain, growing stronger each time you tried to ignore it. It took hold of you like a slow cough. It was a tickling sensation first, barely enough to pop up on your radar, but the tickle grew. It grew until you weren't just forgetting names, but faces too. They grew blurry in your mind.

~~~~~

"Babe can you pass me the salt?"

You were sitting in a restaurant opposite... damn it Y/n. You remembered that you loved her. You remembered all the holidays you went on, telling her you loved her for the first time, all the risky missions the two of you had pulled off and yet you had no idea what her name was.

"Sure." You smiled at her and continued your meal.

The conversation washed over you. You worked out that this was clearly a thing the two of you did regularly and the intimate lighting reaffirmed your thoughts that you loved this woman. She really was stunning and you sat there trying to recall how the two of you met.

At first, you knew the names and faces were wrong but as the scratching of 'something is wrong' got louder, the worry caused by these mishaps faded away until you didn't remember what was wrong in the first place.

~~~~~

"Y/n you really need to remember to put the milk back in the fridge."

"What do you mean? I di-" you stopped as Tony held a bottle of room temperature milk, waggling it at you.

"I might be a billionaire who made profits from wars but we have to reduce our waste!" He teased playfully. All you could do was try to retrace your steps as you thought back to how you could have forgotten.

"Damn Y/n, maybe this is a sign to cut back on using the milk." Sam laughed joining in on the joke.

"Leave her alone. Like you don't constantly leave cereal out or the toilet seat up." Natasha came and stood next to you defensively, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck.

You relaxed instantly but that niggling thought of something being wrong wormed its way back.

~~~~~

You were getting worse. You knew you were but you held on to the hope that because you knew you were getting worse, there was still time. You were sure Natasha had noticed. She was constantly waiting behind you when you cooked, pretending to be reading when in actuality she was making sure you didn't leave anything burning. You thought Steve picked up on it too, always berating the team if they made fun of you for forgetting things. You were no longer allowed out on missions. The excuse was that you were more valuable left behind to work on intel or mission planning. You didn't remember to question it.

"We need to talk about Y/n."

"Not now Steve." Natasha bit back. She didn't want him breaking the delicately created lie she was living.

"Natasha surely you can see it. Sometimes it's like she's not even in the room."

"I'm not talking about this." Natasha got up, refusing to acknowledge your worsening condition, convinced that you would be fine.

~~~~~

See the full post

190 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

#4

Wings - n.r

Word count: 2565

Genre: comfort/hurt

Request: yes

Warnings: self harm (kinda. like it's with wings but read at your own discretion)

A/n: It's been a hot min since I wrote anything 😬 Might make this into a lil AU. I kinda wanna explore more of Natasha and angel!r's relationship. Like meeting R's parents etc. WE WILL SEE THO XD Also, I changed it slightlyyyyyy I hope that's okay!

Pride wasn't something your species lacked. With wingspans that are easily double your height and reflexes that would make a panther jealous, there was next to nothing that could harm you. The pride each of you had wasn't cockiness but the natural confidence that comes with the knowledge that you are the top of the food chain. Being the apex predator meant you possessed both the deadly ability of a lion and the brain that would rival even the smartest of humans. If charming your way out of a situation was looking increasingly unlikely, then throats would be slit. Despite what people may think, your culture was not one of savages. It was rich and detailed and varied from clan to clan. There was one common tradition that everyone partook in and that was The Leaving. Once a youngling's feathers lose their fluff and gain their silky perfection, they are to leave their family and seek out new blood; be it territory, foods, cultures or people.

You were expected to leave and come back bloodied with victories and new territories to show for it. Each clan had a balance of specialties that were dictated by what your parents did. While a few were lucky enough to have a choice between two paths if their parents had differing roles, most didn't have a choice. You had never been close with your parents although this was a common occurrence. It was the grandparents who raised the young while the parents were off traveling the world to find the resources they needed. How were parents expected to contribute towards the clan's survival if they had to stop to raise children? It made much more sense for those whose wings could no longer carry them the great distances needed to look after the young.

Your parents had reached that age. Their wings were now nothing more than brilliant decorations, marked with each one of their victories. Unfortunately, this meant they now lived vicariously through you. When your beautifully glossy wings reached maturity, your parents all but shoved you from the comfort of your own home, eager for you to make your mark on the world and come back with grandchildren for them to mould.

Something you parents hadn't accounted for was that the world was vastly more populated than it was when they had set out. You could no longer just fly down, intimidate or charm the locals, and claim their land as yours. The weapons had become more developed and they had seen too many otherworldly creatures to fall for the usual tactics. This may have looked like a problem, but for your opportunistic ass, this was the dream.

You were finally free to eat as much as you wanted, drink as much as you wanted and lay with as many people as you wanted.

~~~~~

Your binge of freedom lasted a day.

You were promptly captured by some kind of new technology you absolutely had to bring back with you.

"You thought we didn't notice you?" A man called Fury, asked.

"I thought you were too feeble minded to realise."

"We keep tags on all life not from this planet."

You let out a short bark of laughter. "If you were here first then why are we all over your history? Hell we predate your history." Your large wings bristled, managing to overpower the technology just briefly "I have to ask, where on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Get what?"

"The contraption keeping me here?"

"I am not a contraption." A third voice entered the conversation, thick with an accent that didn't match Fury's.

The woman moved in front of you, her eyes glowing a shade of red you had only seen one other time. The time your grandmother died.

"Want to see some real magic sweetheart? Come with me and I'll show you everything."

You couldn't tell if the red flush on her face was from anger, exertion of keeping you there, or lust. Turns out you never got to find out as a sharp bolt of electricity knocked you out.

That was three years ago and since then you had fought with the Avengers and even become one of them. Your favourite battle was with Thanos. It was positively delicious to rip his slimy little arm off before Thor swung his axe through his head.

There was no real reason for you to stay other than you liked their company. Your parents were eager for you to come back and begin mating so you could head back out again but you had grown to like the humans you called your family. You had learnt many things while being here such as your wings were in fact retractable. Well, they weren't completely retractable but they could almost slide in on themselves, making them a practical size for walking around hallways and sleeping on beds. The downside however, was that you weren't very good at remembering to keep them in. That, and when certain people made you flustered, they just popped right back out again.

Your time with the Avengers had also changed you a little. You had a nickname - something the old you would have cut tongues out of mouths if she had been given one. It was created when Tony Stark had seen you smuggle an interesting looking spoon into your sleeve.

"Damn magpie, anything else of mine you want?"

You didn't know how to react at first. You didn't know he was talking to you and you certainly didn't know how you were anything like the pitiful creatures. Tony then explained the similarities and from that day, the nickname stuck.

~~~~~

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346 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#3

Steven's Mom

Genre: fluff/angst/smut +18

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 3874

Request: no

Warnings: poorly written smut, cheating

A/n: This literally took me a good month to write, so I think it's safe to say this may be a little bit shit. If the punctuation seems off, it's cause Grammarly keeps being weird and making suggestions -_- BUT ENJOY! Cause I'm not sure when the next fic will be finished XD Yes, smoking is bad but holy shit is it hot when the right people do it.

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Relationships.

That word has always scared you.

Your friends would talk about their recent boyfriends and how they were going on cute group dates and where was your boyfriend Y/n?

Your answer was always that there was no point in settling down with one person when you were yet to try them all. Especially seeing as you had only just reached your 23rd birthday.

Sure, some may have seen that as 'flighty behaviour' and yes, perhaps you should have gotten a therapist when you were a lot younger - but you were always told you were going to be a heartbreaker and the long trail of flings you left in your wake was testimony to this.

Perhaps heartbreaker was a strong word. You were sure that only going on a few dates with a guy hardly led to their hearts being broken but you were pretty and could accentuate your almost forgotten accent which made all the boys fall into a line.

You had moved to America with your family when you were 16 but due to your desire to fit in, you had worked extremely hard on switching your native accent for an American one. It felt as if you were betraying your family but it was too late to break that habit 7 years on.

Using people as a means to an end is never a good plan. Especially when that person was a friend but when Steven had asked you out, you couldn't help but see a goldmine of opportunities.

Steven was sweet. He was the kind of all-American guy that was shoved down the western media consumer's throats. He played baseball throughout his school career and taught the little leagues on weekends. He had the body of a god and the heart of a saint.

For all intended purposes, Steven was perfect.

Steven would be your salvation.

~~~~~

After 3 weeks of non-stop dating, your university friends wanted to see the boy who had managed to keep the notorious serial dater interested for more than one date. You decided to introduce them all, telling your university friends that Steven was a friend from high school.

Obviously they all swooned.

You truly were living the 'American dream'. However your American dream all came crashing down one Tuesday night.

It had been two months since the first date and Steven had invited you over to his house after seeing a movie. You took your shoes off and hung up your jackets before you both made your way to the kitchen. Steven backed you up to the kitchen counter, kissing along your neck using too much tongue. You were a strong believer that neck kisses should be mostly teeth. The tongue was reserved for other acts. The sound of heels filled you with relief. You liked Steven but he needed to work on his game. It seemed that Steven was too engrossed to realise his mother was standing in the doorway.

You locked eyes with her and let out a soft gasp. You thought you saw her left eyebrow twitch but you couldn't be sure because as she took a step towards you, the trance broke and you pushed Steven away.

"Babe?"

She cleared her throat and Steven spun on the spot, his jaw dropping in a comical way before closing again as his face went red. "I can explain..."

"No need to explain Stevie, just don't do it in my kitchen please."

"T-this is Y/n, Y/n, this is my mom."

"Natasha." She extended her hand for you to shake.

See the full post

394 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#2

Room 501

Genre: fluff 

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 1674

warnings: none &lt;3

A/n: My lovelies I have been ~struggling mentally~ Nah I'm kidding I promise I'm fine. But I have been suffering with a major block and my personal life has been questionable which is why you've had little to no fics recently. I can't lie, the lack of interaction on these fics is disheartening but I know my lack of writing is also partly to blame. If I'm being honest, the dopamine I get from your interactions is what keeps me motivated to think up new scenarios and write them down. On another note, I have more fish.

Your day had been going relatively well. You were driving back from a good day at work with the radio blasting and the windows rolled down. You were too engrossed with singing along to Adele to realise there was a motorbike weaving through the cars at a breakneck speed. You only realised when there was a sickening screech of metal on metal that the bike had spun underneath your car. A few moments after that the world turned to black.

When you awoke, you were in hospital with a minor concussion and a broken arm. The doctors asked a series of questions that you breezed through before declaring you well enough to go home. You asked them what had happened with the motorcyclist and the nurse and doctor shared a look before letting you know she hadn't woken up yet. You asked for her room in order to apologise but they refused, stating that they couldn't give you her room number but could leave a message with her. You asked for a pen and quickly wrote down a message on a used napkin.

It was 3 days after you had left the hospital when you received a text from an unknown number. All it said was 'floor 2, room 501'. You assumed it was the woman you had run over. The relief and guilt flooded your system simultaneously as you put your shoes and jumper on to go to the hospital. The whole way over you were battling with yourself - pleased that she had contacted you but embarrassed and upset about the circumstances. You told the front desk where you wanted to go and they directed you towards a flight of stairs. You hesitated before turning the doorknob of the room containing the woman you ran over. You gingerly stepped in, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep.

"I didn't know you'd be cute." Her voice was raspy - whether it was from staying in hospital or was just her natural voice you weren't sure.

Your cheeks heated up at her compliment. "Same here. I was worried you were old or something..." You trailed off, shifting your feet a little as an awkward silence filled the room.

"Come sit. I promise I don't bite." She had a look in her eye that told you she most definitely would bite but you sat in the chair next to her bed nonetheless.

She studied you intently before extending her non-broken hand to you "Natasha."

You shook it. "Y/n."

"At least now I know what name to sue." She winked at you and you let out a shocked laugh.

"Actually, we should probably exchange details so I can pay for the damage"

"No." Her answer was short and to the point. You barely knew the woman but you knew there was no point arguing and yet you did anyway.

"I literally ran you over. At least let me buy you a new bike."

"I'll let you buy me a drink." Her mouth curled up into a smirk.

"Sure. When are you out of here?"

"Not for a while. You have to sneak us out."

You looked at her, unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

"Against what rules?"

"The rules of life or something."

"Obey all the rules and you're going to miss out on the fun parts of life."

You glanced around the room, looking for a possible way out. Natasha looked pretty badly injured so you assumed walking all the way down the stairs and out the door would be out of the question. The windows were those suicide proof windows that didn't open all the way out which left only one other option.

"I decide where we're going and I take you right back here as soon as you finished your drink okay?"

Natasha thought it over "...fine."

You exited the room and asked for a wheelchair, claiming it was for your sick, old, aunt. You grabbed a scarf you saw on a chair and headed back to Natasha's room.

"Okay put this on your head." You handed her the scarf, positioning the wheelchair so she could slide into it.

See the full post

441 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Two little lines

Genre: angst/fluff

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 2752

warnings: swearing, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, pregnancy, suggestions of abortion - I think that's it.

A/n: omg have I posted a fic?? I think hell froze over. utter madness. NOW, enjoy this because I have 0 creative juice atm and this literally took a miracle to write XD This is a lil bit depressing but it has a good ending I promise. If you don't like abortion, don't read. We're pro-choice here.

xoxo

In real life, accidents aren't happy.

You're learning that the hard way. You are pregnant. Your stomach dropped and all you could hear was blood rushing through your veins. How could two lines ruin your life?

You didn't want this.

You couldn't do it. Not with him.

You were on birth control.

Natasha was going to kill you.

Your thoughts rushed just as quickly as your blood did. Your boyfriend's grin made you feel even more ill. Nothing about this whole situation was right. You didn't want children. Mark did, but you didn't. Mark thought you had stopped taking birth control a year ago and in some ways you did. You no longer took the pill but instead had an implant fitted. An implant that was 99% effective.

You wanted to cry.

Mark had been making you take a pregnancy test twice a month. He controlled your diet so there was the greatest chance of you getting pregnant and cut all alcohol. He still enjoyed a cold beer though. You had seen the horrors of pregnancy and wanted nothing to do with it. When you began dating Mark two years ago, you made it clear that children, unless from either a surrogate or adoption, would not be in your future. He nodded and told you he respected your decision.

How were you to know he still wanted a baby?

There were numerous red flags that you should have seen but didn't. If any of your friend's partners treated them the way Mark treated you, you would have gone ballistic. Unfortunately for you, Mark was extremely good at making those red flags look green. He slowly cut you off from your family, arguing that you were in a different country now with completely different time zones so of course talking to them would become difficult. Then it was your friends. He said he overheard them talking shit about the two of you, about how they only wanted to use you for your connections. He cried in your arms and the display of vulnerability from usually such a stoic man was the final nail in the coffin.

He had you hook line and sinker.

When he finally left for work, you knocked on your neighbours door. Natasha took one look at you, with your eyes full of unshed tears, and immediately let you inside. She sat you down in her living room and went about her apartment to make you a hot drink.

"I'm pregnant." Your tongue was thick in your mouth and your throat tight as Natasha handed you a mug of what looked like hot chocolate.

She didn't say anything.

"I don't want to be pregnant Natasha."

"There are... options."

"Mark would kill me."

"Mark is killing you Y/n."

And there it was. The same argument you had almost every time you spoke to Natasha. The two of you had gotten close when you had first moved in. She was there before Mark and she was determined to be there after Mark - because there would be an after Mark. Natasha was about the only person you could be completely yourself with.

Mark and Natasha hated each other.

Mark was convinced she had a crush on you and would tear the two of you apart and Natasha was convinced Mark was a monster.

You suppose, logically, Natasha was right. She had known you when you first moved to America and had watched as your smile became less genuine.

See the full post

441 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[kigiom]

[kendyroy]

personal space is non-existent between them

[lilac-gold]

How are you doing both Physically and Mentally. This is a check-up

Aww, thanks for asking! I really appreciate it <33

Physically I've been alright lol, just a bit tired. My swollen glands have gone down and my back pain's been reduced by a Lot but I'm also wayyy too busy to get more than 6 hours of sleep a night, whoops. Mentally,, ehhh. Today wasn't great (I may or may not have cried 5 separate times, almost swore and had a teensy almost-panic attack), but I'm still functional! People just sort of suck, I'm really sick of being treated like a joke hkdjhgkjfhkjg. You're awesome though, it's really sweet of you to ask how I've been! How are you? :))

[og-ciel]

Pictures players normaly take during the Grand Festival:

What I took:

[cidnangarlond]

[im-tempted]

The reason I'm not allowed in the really world is that they know I'd deck mark Zuckerberg in the face

[cheekylittlepupp]