I'm Wintery | i'm 19 years old | She/Her | Lesbian | I write mostly for Wanda in here | English is not my first language | I have bpd, so i'm open to talk abt topics like that.
+18 blog, minors please do not interact. You do not have my permission to republish my work on any other plataform.
Hey everyone, I want to apologize if you received any strange or scam messages from my account today. My Tumblr was hacked and used to send those out without my knowledge or consent.
I’m really sorry if it caused any confusion or concern. I’ve regained access and secured the account, so everything should be safe now.
If you clicked on anything from those messages, please be careful and consider changing your passwords just in case.
Thank you for your understanding, and i'm really sorry about what happened. I'm making sure those type of things won't happen again.💙
I fell like his mouth is fully healed now, but yk, I'm still careful about what i feed him. I don't want smth bad happening, like, the wound getting infected, yk? But that just might be me overthinking.
here's a recent picture of him.
the vet said he was just super lucky, he could've easily died or breaked his legs... thankfully nothing like that happened. Still, i'm grateful he's still alive, but now i'm just making sure he's always 100% safe... constantly... yaaay, trauma!!
Some of the old ones are still up, i hope that can be enough to make that feeling go away a bit. I'm still positive i won't be back making bots though. And if i do, it will probably be on new terms, and definitely not c.ai anymore. :(
hello wintery!!! i’ve been a really big fan of your work and i want to ask if you have some advices of how to start writing here on tumblr and how to use it! Or maybe what do you recommend for going viral with your writing?? Sorry to bother you!
Hey cutie! I mean, the best thing you could do at the start is set up your profile the way you want to. Also add a bio or a navigation post. That way it will be easy for people to find your work, yk?
Besides that, just be yourself. Write about the things you enjoy and that you think someone might relate to… also don't forget the tags. Don't worry about putting too many, because the more tags you use, the easier it is to reach more people ^^
You're no bother, honey. I'm glad to be here to help ❤️
Are You Okay?? You haven't been on in a while im just worried about you so I might just cheer you up by sending you baby kitten pic with mama, the mama is named Princess.
Aww. Hey honey, i really appreciate your concern. ♡
I'm just dealing with some personal problems recently, also that stuff i commented on an earlier post about my cat. I'm mostly just busy keeping an eye on him, and when I'm not doing that I'm sleeping, haha.
I'll probably stay off for a while more, at least until things settle down and i can finally breath, y'know?
AND OMG KITTIES!!!! Mama kitty looks so tired, she def need a princess spa day. Did you named the little one already?
Sorry if this is a lot but I’d love if you wrote a fic I’d like Natasha was your mom and found out about your scars similarly to the one if Bucky was your dad, I really liked it, otherwise I’d love a part two or like something like that with the Bucky one. Sorry for probably sounding super confusing. Thanks
Pain
Mom!Natasha Romanoff & Teen!Reader
TW's: Self-Harm
[A/N] So um... I try and hold off going into detail about the shit in my life 'cos I know a lot of people come to this page looking for an escape from their own troubles and they don't want to be bombarded with mine but if y'all could just wish me luck today and be extra kind I would very much appreciate it ❤️ Thank you lovely anon for your request, it made perfect sense 😘 Hope you enjoy!
The trouble with having an ex-assassin for a Mother is that whenever you get into trouble instead of grounding you or confiscating your phone, she makes you train with her. She’d made you train regularly in the Avengers gym until you were about twelve years old and then you’d put your foot down, saying you didn’t want to do it anymore. Natasha had let it go – you knew basic self defence moves and she’d agreed that as long as you did a refresher once every couple of months you could stop the training.
If you were in trouble though, you were in the gym with her every night after school for as long as Natasha decided was appropriate. That varied depending on the incident. This week the school had called her because you’d been cutting class. Education was something Natasha took very seriously and now here you were, stuck in training every evening for an entire week.
You’re out of breath already and you put your hands on your knees, bending over “Can we take a break?”
“No. We’ve got fifteen minutes left.”
“Come on, give me five minutes and then I’ll complete the full fifteen.”
“Up. Now. If you were in a real fight or mission you wouldn’t get chance to rest.”
You straighten up, groaning loudly as you block another punch that she throws at you “I’m not going on a mission anytime soon or ever so why do I have to-”
“You wouldn’t be so out of breath if you stopped talking so much.” Natasha says, throwing another punch at you “But since you’re so keen to chat, why don’t you tell me why you were cutting class?”
“I… Uh…”
You throw a feeble punch at her, hoping to deflect the question but Natasha easily blocks it. Of course she does, she’s trained to take down armies. Natasha meets your gaze “Where were you if you weren’t at school?”
“I was at school.” You mumble “Just… Not in class.”
“Were you messing around with that girl again? The one with the stupid name?”
“Amethyst?”
“Fuck me. Yes, Amethyst. Were you with her?”
“No, we uh… We’re not friends anymore.”
Natasha pauses, taking her gloves off “Yeah? What happened?”
You just shrug, pulling your own gloves off and hoping she’s letting you off the hook of your last fifteen minutes of training “Nothing really. We were friends then we realised we didn’t have much in common. So now we don’t hang out anymore.”
Natasha narrows her eyes, figuring there’s more to this story than you’re letting on “Okay so tell me what you were doing when you should’ve been in class.”
You avoid her gaze before reluctantly mumbling “Hiding in the bathroom. Reading my book.”
“And why were you doing that instead of going to class?”
“I just… I didn’t wanna go to Science, you know I’ve been struggling with it-”
“You don’t avoid something just because you’re struggling with it.” Natasha says firmly “I know it’s not your favourite and you don’t always understand the material but you tell me and we come up with a solution, you don’t just ditch. You got it?”
“Yeah Mom, I got it. Sorry.”
Natasha ruffles your hair “Okay. You’re still training every night this week. And I don’t wanna hear about you skipping class again. I know you’re a good kid, I don’t want another call from the school telling me you ditched.” You just nod and she sighs, giving your forehead a quick kiss “Go get cleaned up. You’ve done enough for the night.”
You grin and head towards your bedroom – you’ve been living at the compound with Natasha ever since she adopted you ten years ago when you were four years old. You think it’s a great place to live, there’s always someone around if you’re feeling lonely and it’s massive so games of hide and seek with your friends were always epic, even if you did get yelled at by Tony that one time. Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to hide in one of his Iron Man suits but you were pretty sure it would be a good hiding spot…
When you get back to your room you pull off your gym shirt, wincing when you realise you’ve aggravated one of the more fresh cuts on your arm. It’s reopened and is starting to bleed again. Thank God your Mom hadn’t noticed. That was a conversation you just weren’t interested in having right now, it was too complicated. You look around the room for something to stop the flow of blood when you jump out of your skin at the sound of a voice from your open doorway.
“Y/N, I forgot to ask, did you-”
Your eyes widen and you turn towards the door where Natasha stops mid-sentence when she notices the blood on your arm. For a moment neither of you says anything, just staring at each other in stunned silence before Natasha crosses the room, grabbing your arm “Mom, I-”
Natasha takes your other arm, seeing the angry cuts on both your arms. Seeing them through your Mom’s eyes you realise just how bad it looks. Natasha opens her mouth but is cut off when you suddenly burst into tears “Please don’t be mad, I'm sorry!”
Her serious expression softens and she pulls you into her arms, resting her head against yours as what you’re saying sinks in. She’d been about to ask who’d hurt you but now she understands. These wounds were clearly self-inflicted which hurts her more than she could’ve ever predicted “Kid… I’m not mad.” She whispers “I’m not mad at you, I promise.” You sob into her chest as she holds you tight, rubbing her hand soothingly over your back. Natasha kisses the top of your head and lets you just cry for a few minutes before sighing “You’re bleeding. Let’s get you to the medbay.”
Natasha goes into practical Mom mode, focusing on carefully cleaning the open wound on your arm and bandaging your self-harm scars on both arms. She checks you over, making sure you haven’t hurt yourself anywhere else. This is the easy part. The hard part comes when she looks at you, still crying on the medical bed as she stands in front of you, folding her arms “Talk to me kiddo. What happened to make you start doing this?”
“I- It-” You sob, looking away.
Natasha puts her hand on your shoulder “Does this have something to do with you ditching Science?” You nod tearfully “Okay. Tell me what’s going on. You’re not in trouble and I’m not mad, I just need to know why you’ve been hurting yourself. Then we can figure this out together.”
You sniffle, struggling for words for a moment before whispering “It… You remember Amethyst?”
Natasha rolls her eyes and nods as she thinks of that girl with the stupid, fancy name. Over the years Natasha has met most of your friends and she’s always liked them but Amethyst, a girl who’d joined your school a few months earlier, was a different story. Natasha hadn’t liked her from the get go and was surprised you’d made friends with her. It wasn’t anything in particular and Natasha had never been able to explain it, there was just something about her that made Natasha uneasy. Although she doesn’t know the full story yet she’s pretty sure her instincts were correct.
“Well, we fell out. Over something stupid, I barely even remember it but we were both just being stubborn. When I’d calmed down I tried to apologise but she wouldn’t hear it. She’s been going around telling all my other friends made up stuff about me, turning them against me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t true but they’ve all taken her side. It’s like they’re all under her spell or something. She just has that effect on people.”
Natasha clenches her fist “And you skipped Science because…?”
“It’s the only class I have with her. I’m still sat next to her, she was put there when she was new, that’s how we made friends. The teacher won’t let me switch and she… She’s being really horrible.”
Natasha sees the way your face flushes, the way the tears stream down your cheeks. Her eyes flicker down to the bandages over your arms and she feels her heart break. She squeezes your shoulder “Your friends… Are any of them on your side in all of this?”
“The others are nice to me when she’s not around. My other classes are fine, Science is the only one causing difficulties.”
Natasha sighs “Kid… Why didn’t you just tell me? I could’ve helped you.”
“I- Well- Because it’s just dumb-”
“Okay but it’s clearly hurting you enough to make you feel that you have to hurt yourself.” Natasha sighs, leaning her forehead against yours “I need you to promise me you won’t do this again.”
You hesitate, looking torn “I-”
“I’m serious. If you feel the urge to hurt yourself again you come and tell me. Whether it’s in the middle of the night or if I’m in the middle of something, I don’t care if I’m in a meeting with the President himself, I want to know. You’re the most important thing in the world to me kid. If something happened to you… I can’t even bear to think about it.” She kisses your cheek “I’m gonna call the school first thing in the morning.”
You look horrified “No-”
“Yes.” Natasha says firmly “This girl is bullying you to the point that you’re avoiding class, your friends are being turned against you and you’re physically harming yourself. That’s not okay and they need to be aware. Maybe they can move you to another class. Or at the very least another desk, away from her. You’re there to learn and she’s blocking you from doing that. No one’s going to bully my kid on my watch, okay? No one.”
You look up at her, seeing the fierce look in her eyes and you sob harder, feeling bad more making her worry about you. You love your Mom so much, you don’t want to cause her any pain or worry “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry. The cutting it- It made me feel better. I don’t know how to explain it. I wanted to handle it by myself.”
“I know kid. You don’t have to though.” She cups your cheek with her hand “You think I don’t go to Steve when I’m struggling with a problem? Or Sam? I get it. It took me a long time to realise I don’t have to solve my problems all on my own. I’m glad you wanted to take initiative and try to be independent but I’m always here if you need me. And this,” She gently taps your bandaged arm “This needs to stop.”
You wrap your arms around her waist, sobbing into her shoulder as she holds you tight again. Natasha knows she’ll stand here as long as you need, letting you cry it out. A good cry always makes her feel better and she knows it’ll work wonders for you. You need this and Natasha is more than happy to oblige.
Tomorrow she’ll call the school and she won’t let it go until this is resolved. After that she’ll look for a therapist who specialises in working with teenagers. Natasha knows this won’t go away overnight but she’s going to do everything in her power to make sure you don’t hurt yourself again. Nobody’s going to hurt her precious kid – not even you. Not if Natasha has anything to say about it. She kisses the top of your head. She meant every word – you’re her world. Her reason for waking up in the morning. The kid she’d hoped for and had always thought would be just out of reach for someone like her. You’re her priority and Natasha’s not letting this go until you feel safe and happy again. No matter what strings she has to pull to stop this girl from hurting you. If there’s one thing Natasha knows about herself it’s that she won’t go down without a fight.
I know I've been off for a while, but now I'm announcing a definitive temporary break.
My cat is unfortunately injured and needs surgery. I'm very stressed and doing everything I can to help him get better so I can afford the vet visits and medications.
Until then, I ask for your understanding regarding my absence, as my focus is on my cat's recovery, which means everything to me right now.
The surgery is expensive, so I'll be struggling financially and working hard to pay for it, so I probably won't have time to show any updates here, plus, my emotional state isn't the best either.
After losing her parents, Pietro, Vision, and her boys, she isn't just "careful" anymore, she's absolute. It’s that heavy, obsessive energy where her love feels like a cage. She'd be setting "rules" that aren't up for debate because in her mind, she is the only thing standing between you and a world that takes everything away.
Imagine her eyes flickering red the moment you're five minutes late, not out of anger, but out of a desperate, spiraling fear that she’s about to lose one more person. The way she would hold you... not just a hug, but a tight, grounding grip that says you aren't going anywhere, while her magic hums under your skin to check your pulse, your temperature, your safety.
You would see the quiet tilt of her head when you try to argue, reminding you that she’s seen the end of the world and she won't let it touch you, even if she has to lock the doors and weave a hex around the house to do it. She doesn't just want to love you; she needs to possess your safety, becoming a motherly, stern figure who decides what is best for you because she simply cannot survive another funeral.
