Semi-hiatus. You've reached the Black Widow: property of shadows, daughter of ghosts, previously unmade. Coming to terms with humanity one fumbling step at a time. Wife of estranged Clint Barton, mother of Katarina. You better watch your head. br>Current mainverse events: After the events of Cap 2, Natasha's husband is gone and long-buried memories of her lost childhood are resurfacing. br>
"You once described yourself as Russian in the past tense.”
"Yes, I recall lying through my teeth pretty frequently during the course of that conversation."
"I’m so glad when I said I was hungry you didn’t misinterpret that as for actual food proper meal nutrition. Yes, I want ice cream."
"Well, we were talking about candy, so it follows that you would start craving it. Or something similarly sweet.”
Wedding gown for Lysa, Studio Ashi
"You’re making me hungry."
"Yeah, me too. Wanna get ice cream? There’s a new place nearby."
"Two strikes, that’s what you get."
"—Russians don’t play baseball."
"We all do strange things under the influence. But I will take Whopper eyes as a compliment, as I’m sure it was meant to be."
"Hey, I could’ve said Milk Duds. Whoppers are a huge compliment.”
"You think I’m a hottie?"
"That’s probably not what I should have taken from all that but…" Her voice became playfully dramatic and she leaned in, "tell me more about my eyes."
"Your eyes are the prettiest, sparkliest, brownest, very nicest eyes I’ve ever seen," Katya obliged, fighting not to laugh. "Remember that time I got drunk and asked to lick your eyeball? I was thinking about Whoppers."
steppingonyourmoment asked ;
Sam thanked the waiter at the counter for his coffee, flashing a warm smile before taking a tentative sip of the warm beverage. He never usually stopped at diners like this but he had just made to New York and his stomach had been complaining nearly just an hour out of the city limits.
Glancing around he caught a few people looking over at the TV settled in the back corner. He usually just disregarded the news entirely in diners like these. Usually at least. Today was different though, extremely different at that; it was just as the wanted fugitives came across the screen that he felt his stomach drop. He couldn’t believe it, I mean this wasn’t really happening right?
Swiveling around in his chair he asked,”Can you make my order to-go please.” Only his eyes never truly peeled off the mug shot of Natasha, and heaven know’s what she had done…shaking his head he pulls out his phone typing a text to her briefly in a code of emojis:
Where are you?
She received the text message somewhere in rural Montana. Bundled against the frigid mountain air, Natasha knew that she should have dumped her phone miles back. But it was a burner, an emergencies-only number for Avengers, Colonel Rhodes, and Sam Wilson to contact her in dire situations. It started buzzing in her parka and she pulled it out.
So he learned her code. For some reason it made Natasha smile to herself as she responded.
Mountains. How was my mugshot? ;-)
Like it didn’t even matter that the entire US Government was hunting her down.