Natalia Noelle Ivankov ✨🚀

"The stars whispered secrets to me long before I learned to listen... and darling, they’re still not done with me."

They call me a Space Tourism Consultant, but what I really am is a storyteller of the cosmos—one who’s danced with blackholes of the heart and lived to tell the tale. 🌌 My life? A constellation of beauty, betrayal, and the unbearable lightness of leaving Earth behind.

I wasn’t always this mysterious woman draped in celestial silence. Once, I loved—hard. His name was Luca, an astrophysicist with hands that mapped galaxies and a smile that could eclipse my doubts. We dreamed of Neptune’s rings together, but he left me for a research grant on Mars. Typical. 🚀💔 The irony? I now book tickets for lovers to float where we promised to go… alone.

Then came Aleksandr, a rogue billionaire who promised me the moon—literally. He funded my first zero-gravity salon (yes, that’s a thing), but his heart had more layers than Jupiter’s storms. One night over champagne in a simulated aurora, he confessed: "I’m married to the game." (Read: He was married to someone else.) I ejected him faster than a faulty airlock.

But here’s the real tragedy, darlings: Space doesn’t care about your broken heart. It swallows your tears before they can fall. That’s why I guide others—through the velvet void, through the ache of gravity’s pull. My clients? They’re runaway romantics, corporate exiles, and souls who’ve stared too long at the horizon. I give them weightlessness, both literal and… the other kind.

So slide into my DMs if you’re ready to trade your baggage for a spacesuit. Just don’t ask if I believe in love. (I do. That’s the problem.) 🔮✨

P.S. Yes, that’s a real meteorite around my neck. No, you can’t touch it. 💫