#sovietavenger

[glxrious-purpose]

“Are you going to let a pumpkin talk to you like that?” -- @sovietavenger​

Whatever was going on here was something Loki would love to exploit, and he was certainly attempting to do so. There were already so many strangely animated creatures about that surely one more here and there would not go amiss. He had been looking for the right opportunity to attempt that, but was interrupted when he saw Natasha out amongst the chaos. "Ah, let me guess--you have come out to fight off these strange interlopers. How noble." Smirking, he glanced around and saw one of the now-animated pumpkins. Pointing to it, Loki said, "There! Catch that bizarre creature!"

That, however, prompted the pumpkin to make a not-at-all flattering comment about not pointing at me, you greasy-haired dope! Loki's smirk faded, and instead he scowled at the insult. Natasha's quick rejoinder did not improve the matter any. "Oh, so you think I should be mortally offended and thus engage the creature in battle? Nice try, Natasha dear, but that is hardly the first time I have been insulted. Not even the first time I have been insulted by a vegetable, actually, so no, sorry to disappoint but I am not going to take that bait."

[vengeancedemons]

💫 a late night text. // @sovietavenger

(✉️ ➡️ russian chick): heard you were through the city (✉️ ➡️ russian chick): i should be more specific (✉️ ➡️ russian chick): came across a couple bodies you dropped in the city (✉️ ➡️ russian chick): you operating strictly in the daytime hours now, or do you wanna meet up now? if you’ve got intel you’re not sharing, romanoff, it’s gonna really hurt my feelings.

[twentyninetynines]

‘ not many people surprise me. ‘ // @sovietavenger

He wasn’t sure how it had come to this. When he’d first met Natasha Romanoff, when she’d told him point blank that she knew he wasn’t who he was pretending to be in a way that made him know denying it would be pointless, he’d figure she’d hate him on principle. It would have been an entirely fair reaction on her part, because someone who lied to your friend for an extended period of time wasn’t often someone you wound up enjoying immensely, but... Natasha told him she understood. She shared her own story, made Miguel feel a little less like dirt for what he’d done.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t a little disorienting to come home and find her lounging on his living room lawn chair.

“I think I’m the one who’s supposed to be surprised right now,” he commented, walking into the kitchen. “Did you break in? Or...” He trailed off, glancing back to the door, looking down at his hands to find that there was no key in his grip. “Aw, shock. I forgot to lock the door again?” Over a year in the past, and the fact that Lyla didn’t have full control over the lock on the front door still slipped his mind sometimes. “Thanks for not being a serial killer, I guess. You want something to drink? I’ve got...” He opened the fridge, brow furrowing for a moment. “...water. I’ve got water.” He sighed, grabbing two bottles and making his way back into the living room to hold one out for her. “What’s surprising?”

[catalystsofchange]

‘ there are no others like us and there never will be. ‘ // @sovietavenger

Dick snorted, light and easy. It was an understatement, but there was no way to talk about it without it being so. Neither of them had had what anyone would call normalcy throughout their lives, albeit for vastly different reasons. They’d both gone through big changes, too. A Soviet assassin to an Avenger. A circus brat to a billionaire. “I guess neither of us did anything in any kind of... linear way,” he acknowledged.

For a moment, he let it hang. A quiet observation floating in the air, still but ever-present. There was a question on the tip of his tongue, and it took him a moment to work up the courage to let it out. “Would you change anything? If you could go back, edit parts out... Do you think you’d do it?”

[impulselantern]

@sovietavenger

“This isn’t going to work.” Sira sighed, leaning against the doorframe and pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why you think it is going to work, Simon. You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m a great liar,” Simon insisted, ducking under Sira’s arm into the living room. There was still a tension between them, thick enough that it hung in the air like a fog, tucking itself in between every word they spoke. Sira was good at letting go of her anger, he knew, and she’d done it. She wasn’t mad at him anymore, even if he knew there was no longer any semblance of an open invitation onto her couch. But Simon... Simon found it a little harder to let go of. He was still hurt, even if he had no real right to be. And Sira knew it, too. Maybe that was why this had been so easy to talk her into.

His ‘probation’ had always been a strange thing. It wasn’t quite official, wasn’t quite court ordered thanks to the terms of his... ‘release’ from Guantanamo, but there were still rules in place. There were still people like Natasha around to check up on those rules. And he was pretty sure one of those rules meant keeping them posted on where he was living... which he definitely hadn’t done. He was pretty sure ‘I unofficially live in space now and am squatting in an intergalactic guard tower’ wasn’t the kind of thing that would go over smoothly. So when Natasha called to arrange a home visit... Simon told her he was still at Sira’s. And Sira, when he’d called to tell her about it, had caved after very minimal begging.

She also said it was a recipe for disaster. Privately, Simon was pretty sure she was right about that.

“Can I have your stuff when they throw you in supermax?” Nazir called from the kitchen. Simon flipped him off. Sira groaned. 

There was a knock on the door, and Simon quickly waved Sira and Nazir away. “Shut up. Both of you, just. Shut up! Just, go, I don’t know. Go be married somewhere.” Nazir laughed as Sira dragged him out of the room, and Simon marched over the door and swung it open with a grin. “Natasha! Hi! Uh, welcome to my house. My sister’s house. Where I live. Presently. Do you want anything to drink?”

[immortalweapon]

“  yeah i don’t do the whole crying thing.  give me something to stab and i’ll be good in a day or two.  ” // @sovietavenger

It probably wasn’t great, but... Danny really understood where she was coming from. When it came to processing his emotions, he’d been lacking in resources since K’un Lun, and he’d had a feeling Natasha had similar shortcomings even before she confirmed it aloud. It was the kind of thing he could feel, like a strange sort of connection between the two of them creating static in the air. He should probably offer an alternative. He should probably insist that they talk it out, but he didn’t know how. So he smiled, shrugged a shoulder, and shook his head. “We can probably find something to stab. Just... maybe not lethally?” 

[ruthlessluck]

@sovietavenger

( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): I need a job. [ .... ] ( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): Not that I can’t find one. I just would like one. If you have one for me. ( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): I can play good for a night, if need be, I suppose. ( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): Just something that pays. ( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): And isn’t too goody two-shoes. Not my style, as you know. ( 📩 → Natasha Romanoff ): I’d appreciate it. If possible.

[glxrious-purpose]

[ text ] How do tall people actually sleep at night when the blanket can’t possibly cover them from the shoulders to their toes? -- @sovietavenger

[Miss Romanoff] Are these the sort of questions your colleagues ask? Because that sounds like something inane that Stark would ponder. [Miss Romanoff] Please tell me they are not rubbing off on you. [...] [Miss Romanoff] And by the way, I have no difficulty getting a blanket to cover myself, despite my height. Just for your information.