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espionage is shadow warfare. cold combat. does anything about this feel cold to you?

616 // cosmos
Joined April 2021
Photo by ηαтαℓια. (@widowswarfare)
— I’m a spy. I’m a fighter. Lately I’ve felt more like a soldier than a spy. And if that’s what the world is asking for. . . I’m happy to oblige. ❞ natalia romanova. black widow. written by #ᴄᴏsᴍᴏs ˎˊ˗
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This? AGAIN? Pulls a pillow over her head and holds it tight against her ears. He’ll get bored eventually, right? Right?
Starts blasting ‘𝓑lack Widow’ by Iggy Azalea in @widowswarfare’s room while she’s napping.
If he doesn’t cool it, she’s going to drop being nice and fully wrestle him into healthy submission. “Fine, but we’re not getting olives on the pizza. I won’t suffer that again.”
“Thanks for the concern about my diet, Natty. Being nice is a good look on you,” The constant 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨. “Pizzas and noodles. That’s the deal.”
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“For food, nitwit. Now stop complaining.” He’s always like this in the morning, huh? A little dumb, a little argumentative. She’s doing him a 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳.
What’s with the 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒍𝒕𝒚 . . . ? 𝘈𝘕𝘠𝘞𝘈𝘠— “You threw out my food and now you’re shoving me out with you? Where are you dragging me?”
Cute that he thinks she prays, or that she’d spend her prayers on him. Now she’s steering him out of the apartment, hands on his shoulder blades to 𝙥𝙪𝙨𝙝. “Pizza box is in the trash, we’re getting new pizza. C’mon, Clinty.”
. . . She should be praying for him. For good health and all that 𝒋𝒂𝒛𝒛. But 𝘏𝘌𝘠— Where is the leftover from last night? “Natty, quick question. Where’s the pizza box?”
No, not when he’s going to end up with food poisoning any day now.
𝗛𝗠𝗠?! Are cold noodles not considered as 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍 food?
She’s taking @DEATHBYTHEARROW out for real food. No more of this week-old Chinese take-out crap. She’ll even let him choose the place.
Not if he’s going to call her 𝘕𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘺. No, she’ll take Jess for early morning diner dates, thanks very much, 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘺.
Are they having 3 AM diner dates on a regular basis? That’s so cute.
Throw salami, get paid in kind. What does he think they’re going to do about it?
As he should.
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She means. . . If he is recognizable as Clint Barton at the end of this, she will be pleasantly surprised.
Offers over her bowl of popcorn. Snacks for the show.
Will not be helping him. Will instead be watching Jess beat him to a pulp.
Louder, lover boy.
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Nat hasn’t blinked, but her eyes are watering. She has points to make. “It’s real... as far as I can tell.” She will not be adopting anything like Goose, there’s enough of that one as is. “It’s more like I *got-slash-it-wandered-into-my-apartment* a cat.”
Jess has blinked approximately twelve times since this interaction started. She’s willing to admit that. “Tell me it’s a *real* cat and not some... alien-thing.” Maybe Goose freaks her out just a little bit.
This didn’t start as a staring contest, but it’s ending as one. “‘Getting’ is a relative term.”
Squints. She’d make this a staring contest if she hadn’t already lost. “Are you getting a cat?”
Straight face. No response. Just stares right back.
Stares at @widowswarfare and her only two Twitter likes.