Si te vas, yo también me voy, si me das yo también te doy, mi amor
Another Victuuri drawing, who’s surprised? I just really wanted to draw kisses…and i needed practice anyway;;;
In my head this would be from the original concept AU i made the comic about a while ago?? ((which i’ll talk more about soon i promise lmao;; )) but really let’s face it, it’s just an excuse to draw these beautiful people kissing each other.
(I have been listening to a lot of Spanish music lately, it just makes me feel nice inside lmao (translation in tags if you don’t want to look it up..))
@wssh-violin love it when people slam doors first thing in the morning and i wake up all panicky, that’s brilliant
anyway just thought i’d make a note here how stunning you look with the sun just coming up through the window. makes your hair glow all reddish. shines off your ring (you been polishing that? pretty sure you’ve been polishing yours, you’re going to make me look like a bad husband with yours all shiny like that)
husband. now i’m sitting here smiling at you. keeps taking me by surprise whenever I remember
you have a nice chest. it’s the best sort of chest, it’s all flat and broad and warm.
god, look at you. you’re so bloody handsome
you calm me down, d'you know that? you probably do. nothing calms me down like you do. not billy, not tea, not anything
love you. going to try to go back to sleep, hope you don’t wake up when i lie down on you.
or maybe i do hope you wake up, a little, because then you’ll do that thing where you squeeze the life out of me and murmur stuff to me in my ear until i’m asleep again. i like that thing
Based on Prompt by @peggdaniels: Hi! How about the reader is Avenger with the same set skills as Natasha, but she’s excellent at archery too and Bruce and Tony trat her like their little sister? Plot twist: She is Pole and when she was a little girl she was kidnapped to the Red Room in Russia (and her family killed) and she was in Red Room while Nat was but reader escaped before the “ceremony” and she’s homesick and when team finds out about it they learn Polish or something to cheer her up? Thanks!
A/N: Sorry y’all, I’ve been hella busy. I’m writing a column this quarter and it’s just taken a little while settling into a schedule. Here’s my first stab at a Natasha fic, so I hope it’s not terrible. Love you!
Vladmir Nabokov describes it best: “No single word in English renders all the shades of toska. At its deepest and most painful, it is a sensation of great spiritual anguish, often without any specific cause. At less morbid levels it is a dull ache of the soul, a longing with nothing to long for, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning.”
You grunt as Tony knocks you to the ground for the fourth time. You push yourself up off the mat, ignoring Tony’s proffered hand.
“You ok, (Y/N)?” Tony asks.
“Fine,” you say.
“Because this is the point in sparring where I’m normally on the floor, covered in bruises, begging for mercy.”
“I’m fine,” you repeat. “Just…distracted.”
“Distrac-” You cut Tony off as you sweep his feet out from under him. He hits the mat with a resounding thud.
“Don’t know why you’re complaining, you hate it when I’m focused,” you smirk, offering a hand to the wheezing Tony. He shakes his head and remains spread out on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. “You gonna get up, old man?”
“I’m done,” he groans.
“I knocked you down once,” you tease. “Steve’s 90-something and he can go all day.”
“I’d like to remind you that my powers are all-natural,” Tony retorts. “You and Spangles have other shit in your veins. I just have blood and alcohol.” You stiffen, knowing that Tony didn’t mean to hit a sore spot.
“All right,” you reply. “I’ll see you later.” You dart out of the training room, unaware of the second set of eyes that follow your retreating figure.
Once in the safety of your room, you peel off your workout clothes and step into the shower. It always takes a second to adjust to the warm water; growing up, you had only been allowed cold showers.
“J.A.R.V.I.S., play some music,” you ask quietly, hoping the notes will drown out the memories threatening to come flooding into your mind. You finish your shower and slip into some cozy pajamas, humming quietly to yourself as you absent-mindedly brush your hair and wander back into your bedroom.
“Your form was off.” You whirl around to find Natasha, sitting nonchalantly on your bed. Your heart drops, partially because you weren’t able to detect her entry, the other half because…your heart always beats a little bit faster when the redhead’s around.
“Tasha,” you scold. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“You didn’t realize I was here?” she asks, her eyes widening.
“Maybe I was going easy on Stark,” you shrug. “It’s not exactly a fair fight, me and him.”
“Maybe,” she says. “Or maybe you were distracted.”
“I just said that,” you lie. “Tactic. Got him to let his guard down.”
“As if you needed to,” she says, arching an eyebrow. “You don’t need to wear the mask, (Y/N). Not now, not with me.”
“The mask?” you ask archly, trying to keep your voice steady. “I’m not sure I can tell the difference anymore.” You notice the way Natasha’s eyes soften, the way she swallows deeply.
“Yes, you do,” she says quietly, patting the bed next to her. Wordlessly, you sit down next to her, curving into her side. This is new, something you’ve never done before, but it feels natural. “What’s on your mind?”
“We have the same training,” you reply. “You tell me.”
“You know I don’t use that,” she says softly, and you just barely pick up on the note of hurt. “Not on you.”
“I can’t stop using it,” you say. “Even when I don’t want to. It’s not something I can turn off. It’s like it’s always there, always whispering things I don’t want to know.”
“Like what?” she asks gently, and you feel her fingers, feather-light, brushing gently through your hair.
“The way Steve jumps at loud noises in the morning,” you say quietly. “That’s how I know when he’s had nightmares. The way Tony’s hands shake until he downs his first drink of the day. The way Bruce constantly looks over his shoulder, like he’s still afraid someone will come lock him up. All the things I wouldn’t know if I was normal, but because I’m not…I do.” Natasha’s silent.
“I miss home,” you admit. “Poland. That’s why I’m out of sorts. I miss home, but…”
“But?” Natasha asks, her voice curious but
“But I don’t remember home,” you say. “At least, not the way I should. It’s fuzzy, like there’s a layer of film over it, and they’ve faded over time. I don’t know what they did to me in the Red Room, but it’s like the memories are corroded.”
“You’re lucky you got out,” Natasha replies. “I can’t remember anything before the Red Room.” As if of its own accord, your hand snakes across her stomach and drapes itself over her waist, like you’re trying to hold onto her, trying not to lose her.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
“Don’t be,” she replies. “This is my home now.”
“The Avengers tower?” you ask.
“No, right here,” she says. “You.”
“Tasha…” you breathe, searching for words.
“Moje slońce,” she says and your eyes widen.
“My sunshine,” you translate. “You speak Polish?” She nods and keeps going.
“Jesteś moim powietrzem,” she says.
“You are my air.”
“Nie moge żyć bez Ciebie.”
“I cannot live without you.”
“Kocham życie bo dalo mi Ciebie.”
“I love my life because it gave you to me.”
“Jesteś calym moim życiem.”
“You are my whole life.”
“Kocham Cię.” Your eyes dart to hers, then away, then back. Her brows furrow. “Did I say it wrong?”
“No, you didn’t,” you reply. “Sorry, I just…it’s taking me a minute to process.”
“Oh,” she says and you hear the hint of fear in her voice.
“Tasha, I love you too,” you say gently and her eyes snap up to meet yours.
“You do?” she asks and you shake your head.
“Of course I do,” you reply. “But be honest, do you really know Polish?”
“Some,” she says. “I’m not gonna lie, I brushed up before I came to visit you.”
“What did you do, Google ‘romantic Polish phrases?’” you tease.
“Pretty much,” she says. “I hedged my bets and also learned some comforting stuff. Like, masz ochote na lody?”
“Would you like some ice cream?” you translate with a smile.
“Exactly,” she says. “Polish is a Slavic based language, like Russian, so it wasn’t too difficult.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“To cheer you up,” she says matter-of-factly. You shake your head and lean forward, placing your lips against Natasha’s. She kisses back, the taste of chocolate on her lips.
“I see you started on the ice cream without me,” you tease. “Is there any leftover for me?”
“Of course,” Natasha says, shoving you playfully. “I can get it.” She shifts and you stiffen, the thought of her leaving you injecting you with a wave a panic. Natasha turns to you and wraps her arm around you, planting a kiss on your forehead.
“Don’t worry,” she says quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then wha-” Natasha puts her phone up to her ear.
“Stark! I’m in (Y/N)’s room. Bring us the ice cream!” She hangs up and tosses her phone away. “Ice cream’s on its way.”
whats the difference between nail polish and nail varnish?
well with nail polish you always think it’s pretty much dry so you’ll attempt a really calculated and careful wee cos the rule is that you only apply it with a full bladder or just before you have to eat or go out, but it will inevitably smudge everywhere and be all over your hands/jeans/wall/sandwich/life within seconds and you’ll have to pretend a drunk toddler painted your nails for you. Whereas with nail varnish you will always think it’s pretty much dry so you’ll attempt a really calculated and careful wee cos the rule is that you only apply it with a full bladder or just before you have to eat or go out, but it will inevitably smudge everywhere and be all over your hands/jeans/wall/sandwich/life within seconds and you’ll have to pretend a drunk toddler painted your nails for you and that is the difference.
Once again a gorgeous shade from Essie, let me show you Truth or Flare. It is gorgeous on its own of course but I’ve just add a tiny bit of golden dust on the free edge of my nails, you can see the dust behind my hand (from Melkior).