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themculibrary · 13 days

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Natasha Romanoff-Centric Masterlist 2

part one

although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight (ao3) - paperclipbitch bruce/natasha T, 6k

Summary: Post-movie. “You shouldn’t google yourself,” Natasha tells Bruce.

american pie (ao3) - ashlearose13 G, 4k

Summary: Here's the thing about Natasha Romanoff: before she was theirs, she was her own.

Common Ground (ao3) - Writegirl natasha/nick T, 4k

Summary: Natalia Romanova was many things: a killer by thirteen, a Black Widow at fifteen, on the run from the Red Room by sixteen and captured by SHIELD at seventeen.

“You have a simple choice in front of you. Either you want to live, in which case you give us your total cooperation. Or you want to die, in which case the kill order will be carried out within the next ten minutes.” The agent stood and went to the door. “You have five minutes to make a decision.”

counterfeit and counterpart (ao3) - Frea_O maria/steve T, 28k

Summary: Five times Maria Hill doesn’t understand Natasha Romanoff, and why she might be better off that way.

four times somebody trusted Natasha Romanoff (and one time Natasha trusted somebody) (ao3) - zauberer_sirin bruce/natasha T, 2k

Summary: Natasha is not used to being treated as something other than a threat.

I'll build a house inside of you (ao3) - magdaliny T, 19k

Summary: Natalia is stacking blocks very carefully when the adults come into the room. None of them look at her, because they're all looking at her father. He's wearing combat gear, and the hair on the left side of his head is slicked back with blood. He smells like smoke and something unnameable, sweet and dark and a little sickly in her nose.

Father is saying, “Don't be ridiculous. The only thing children are good at is disobeying.”

i'm so tired (of being afraid) (ao3) - himynameisv natasha/matt T, 35k

Summary: Steve glances at her with what she can only describe as a small, fond smirk. "You're not alone in this," he murmurs.

She breathes in, gathers up the courage to grasp him on the shoulder. "Neither are you," she says.

They stand there, mourning together in the silence, because that's how the two of them have always been.

(Or: Natasha Romanoff had three families. She's going to get them back and/or die trying.)

i'm staying at my parents’ house and the road not taken looks real good now (ao3) - hannaenomia maria/natasha N/R, 22k

Summary: Natasha takes The Avengers to her family's farm to recover after their first run-in with the Scarlet Witch and promptly flirts with Maria Hill in front of everyone, whether she admits it or not. (Black Widow comes before Age of Ultron in this storyline)

In Your Hand (ao3) - SpideySense777 natasha/tony M, 32k

Summary: Major Spoilers for Black Widow if you haven't seen it.

Tony and Natasha overcoming her betrayal after Civil War and finding peace in the fact they are screwed up people.

i see things that nobody else sees (ao3) - burnthatbridgewhenwegetthere T, 1k

Summary: before she was the Black Widow, she was just a black widow. Natasha, Natalia, Natalie- it's hard to be a person when you have specifically been taught to not be one.

the struggle is silent.

Mama Bear (ao3) - Dira Sudis (dsudis) clint/laura T, 2k

Summary: How the Black Widow became Auntie Nat.

melt (ao3) - romanovasquinn T, 5k

Summary: Perhaps she did not have a heavier hand in the transaction, Natasha thought, perhaps she loved me when she first saw me open my eyes.

She found herself living on perhapses so that she would never land on anything definitive. Perhapses were the thing that kept her from thinking about how unloved she was from the day she was born. It’s a dirty secret she kept hidden in the crux of her heart.

Cold, Natasha thought. She must feel very cold."

---

Melina attempts to reconcile with Natasha by taking her to her biological mother's unmarked grave. It goes as well as you'd expect.

music save your mortal soul (ao3) - nunya_bznz_babes G, 3k

Summary: The girls leave behind little things that never last long - an empty bed with the slight indent of their small body on the mattress, drops of blood in the training room, hair follicles and bits of dead skin that would become the dust that settled in barren corners or coated the lungs of the survivors, the instructors. Clothes to be handed down to the next set of potential Widows.

Natalia won't let herself become one of the dead girls, the ghost girls, the tiny bones rotting under layers of soil. But she remembers their names.

Or: Natasha Romanoff

My Unshaped Form (ao3) - atrata bruce/natasha E, 26k

Summary: Of all the people they could have sent, they send Bruce Banner. In his defense, he seems to realize he has no chance of finding her.

No Place In The World (ao3) - Mtabby2260 clint/laura T, 3k

Summary: "The ceremony is necessary for you to take your place in the world."

"I have no place in the world."

"Exactly."

off to the races (ao3) - Elekat G, 11k

Summary: Elementary School was torture. The kids didn't take it seriously, everything was useless information she would never need, oh, and Natasha hated gym class.

one of us will break it (ao3) - zauberer_sirin nick/natasha T, 1k

Summary: Natasha is not in the business of soft.

(Spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier)

September (ao3) - enigma731 pepper/tony, natasha/tony T, 12k

Summary: Natasha studies him for a long moment, trying to decide whether she believes this last assertion. “So basically you’re trying to make an invention to cure PTSD? Why not just go to therapy?”

Tony gives her a look. “You want to go to therapy?” Tony scoffs. “Besides. Like some doctor is going to know what to do about the fact that I have nightmares about aliens and wormholes.”

“Okay,” says Natasha. “So you’re inventing the world’s next great therapy contraption. What did you want from me?”

“Well." Tony turns back to the computer monitor in a movement that may or may not be to avoid her gaze. “It’s not working. Normally I’d ask Banner, but, well.” He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Besides, I hear you’re the one to ask about coding.”

Some Assembly Required (ao3) - AlphaFlyer clint/natasha T, 4k

Summary: "They say that when you go to the seven circles of Hell, IKEA has taken over the suburbs and parts of the ring road.” Natasha and Clint enter an alien universe.

Some Summers They Drop Like Flys (ao3) - kvikindi T, 5k

Summary: Natasha blew all her covers. It's a brave new world.

Training Wheels (ao3) - thetbone G, 13k

Summary: Natasha doesn’t know how to ride a bike, doesn’t know how to be part of a family, doesn’t know how to be free.

But she’s learning.

you taught me the courage of stars (before you left) (ao3) - wcndanat T, 5k

Summary: Madame B waits, waits, and waits, until she doesn’t anymore. She walks to the table in the corner of the room, picking up the gun sitting over it, and Melina’s breath falters (no, please, not Natasha, not her Natasha, not yet).

The glock slips in Sonja’s hands and Melina closes her eyes, just to open them a second later — she doesn’t want to see this, but she has to, — and that’s when it happens, so suddenly that the woman almost starts sobbing right there on the spot.

Natasha gets up.

five times someone witnessed Natasha saving herself, and the one time someone saw her giving up.

#themculibrary #marvel #mcu #masterlists #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff masterlist #natasha centric #natasha centric masterlist

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hazelelel · 5 months

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Found these hiding in my old FLIPACLIP and idk what to do with them. I have no desire to clean them up or finish them

I think it was probably from this scene in an abandoned WIP about Jackson, this muggle dude who was an information gatherer for Dumbledore.

Context: He meets up for meetings with Minerva, Albus, Remus, and Severus each week to give reports. He's made a precarious deal to not be killed, as he is immune to Obliviation (idiot accidentally made friends with a trickster god). He's been to many meetings and now everyone is starting to like him except obviously Severus who hates him. Heheh.

Her- here- here's the scene:

Jackson sat stiffly in his chair in front of Albus's desk, watching as the headmaster flipped through his report. Minerva sat to the side, giving Jackson a stern look. Remus sat next to her and gave Jackson an awkward little thumbs up. Severus was sandwiched in a shadowy corner, looking perhaps even more murderous then the last time. The silence dragged on. Jackson was weary, not only from training with Wotton (thats the trickster god, m'dudes) in a futile attempt to gain any upper hand against a magical opponent with a major advantage, or living in the woods, but also by the issues he was having with his mind. It was all tangled up in there and every time he ventured in, meditating in an open field, he'd find himself thrown out violently. His own mind! It was as if there was something that didn't want him to know it was there. It sent a chill of unnerve down his spine.

Albus set his report down on the desk and finally smiled, pushing his half moon spectacles up on his crooked nose.

"Another excellent report, Jackson. I enjoyed your analysis on the 1930's in both the Muggle and Wizarding world." Albus slid the stack of papers back and Jackson took them. "Now, I believe I want to ask you a few questions."

Jackson swallowed thickly,

"Please." He gestured for the headmaster to continue, all cordial and shit.

"This… issue we've seen arise when trying to obliviate you, it's made for quite the conundrum. In every way, you are entirely normal, yet this sticks out as if there is something larger at play." Albus sobered, leaning forward and folding his fingers.

"I was hoping to attempt something a bit more… experimental." Albus went quiet for a sinister moment, then smiled. "Severus and I believe that you can see through illusion magic due to an abnormality in your mind. Perhapse some deformity of your psyche, but there can be no knowing unless we check. That would be through-"

"Occlumency." Jackson uttered, having read through the mind arts section of the Hogwarts library. "You want to enter my mind?" His eyes darted towards the door. Albus waved his hands gently. "Jackson, my dear boy… there is no need to fear. I only suggest we perform a very brief scan. I believe Severus here could do so and you won't even notice."

At the mention of Severus, Jackson broke into a cold sweat beneath his button-up. The man in question stepped forwards, a looming presence of perpetual anger towards Jackson.

Albus tilted his head, watching Jackson carefully. "That is, only if you consent to this process, of course." Jackson blinked. He was being given a choice? Why? That seemed off.

"Well… no, I would perfer if we-"

"For God's sake, Albus! We twiddle our thumbs for the likes of him now?" Severus hissed, a sneer frozen on his face. Jackson flinched under his intense stare of hatred.

Albus frowned, "Now Severus-"

"To hell with this." Severus shook his head and swooped forwards, bending over front of Jacksons chair faster then he could react.

"That's really won't be necesSSSARY-" Jackson trailed off as Severus grasped his face in both chilled hands and bent down uncomfortably close, his flared nostrils blowing puffs of pissed off air along Jackson's cheeks.

"Look at me." Severus demanded and Jackson immediately closed his eyes. If he'd learned anything living as a muggle in a wizarding world, it was context clues. Context clues told him to not listen for shit. Severus made a noise of frustration and tightened his grip. He leaned in and whispered directly into Jacksons ear, completely turning his brain off for the few seconds his words bounced around his skull.

"If you do not want to end up as potion ingredients, I would suggest you obey me, Muggle."

Jackson, with now very little reluctance, opened his eyes. They were met with a pair of black ones. So black he wondered how. As black as the black of a lake on an overcast night, or the darkest dark of a deep, deep well, or the deepest, most soul grabbing aggressive of- of... Okay, Jackson is no poet. Give him a break.

That was his last thought before the feeling of falling into a mile deep hollow took both of them in a vice grip.

#harry potter fanfiction #digital art #snapedom #severus snape #oc art #shitty little story + art mmmmm #im sleepy #pro snape #it was gonna be like a- a slow burn kinda uh- idk what i was doing #i just like seeing ratty little characters be in precarious situations is that so wrong?#i fucking love snape hes so aweful in my favorite ways #mmmb

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oceanic-recollection · 6 months

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i imagine bluefruit might make a good pudding perhaps or something with a similar texture at the very least

<GRP> gamer girl i think. that is a gravy!

<GRP> lest you perhapse mean a Savourey Puddinge. nd then that makes sense. solit.

#grp #goldy #ask #anon #idle chatter

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eternally-anomalous · 11 months

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well, quiet's argument with dew... and the fact that ey're basically the spawning point for 90% of sunrise's self-worth issues... and-

could make you hate em . perhapse

...

Perhaps I do hate em

-eternal anomaly

#Anon

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phox-129 · 2 years

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twirls hair so i heard ur interested in the dndads perhapse,,,,

Yes!! I have been interested since I saw you liked it but since my attention span to podcasts has gotten increasingly worse I did not think I would get into it. But that fan art has made me want to rise to the challenge perhaps

#it was also partly how long it was. but I don’t have that fear anymore I got through fantasy high after all #actually well I still haven’t finished fantasy high. I’m close tho #maybe I should finish that first #asks #liv

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buzzing-honeybee · 7 months

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for some reason watching atwow i can’t help but to question why it’s shot in the way it is. perhapse its a stylistic choice. perhaps they plan on having all the movies in the future also be shot in this style and maby have flashbacks or what ever and maby cover some stuff?? like it just seems like the movie progressed so fast but many thats cuz i have a weird time perception of movies and media.

i mean it’s nice to see the different story lines and watch them progress but u just hope we get some of all the other characters in the future films.

or maby its just the writing style of whoever was the screen writer or like the person who creates the script.

#avatar way of water #honey.talks #i’m sorry if this makes no sense #i’m both high and sleep deprived #avatar thoughts #atwow #avatar the way of water

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trapdoornumberthree · 3 years

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Some of the boys when they were young and some colored selections from sketches of @sillyandquiteawkward‘s charas (flushed emoji)

#trapdoor art #special guests #fallout 4 #ocs #brooklyn #the bastard #pluto mckraken #bas before he got all strong from going crazy in the wasteland...#baby pluto.... hes like 17 here....#brookie lost the rest of his hair between then and now #but he always kinda knew that'd be the case #also like perhaps uhm #i keep at-ing silly because im too shy to say i wanna talk ocs #perhapse i will just dance around it tee hee

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the-furies · 3 years

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that reminds me actually where the fuck is Eureka

#untalky #my person??? my Dearest creator??? the bitch who gave me Formes????!!!! where ARTE thoue??#ah fuck it he's probably sleeping. i know for damn sure that wearing this meatsuit for too long drives one nuts also tireds.#edit: perhaps if i stay awake long enoughe he will notice and reappeare #hmme hmme hmmmmmme. perhapse i shall try and finde oute!#oo e is looking particularly rather tastey in our mouthe. e time time to add e to words at randome!

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pocketramblr · 2 years

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Pocket I am vibrating, hoping people are able to translate this Cipher I threw into a fic! Do you use any Ciphers in your stuff? They're really really fun! Especially Atbash, Caesar, and Vignere!

I've never used ciphers, no, though the language of magic in the fisherking au comes close. Perhaps I should use some ciphers in other aus... Leverage au perhapse? Deltora au? Good idea

#it's so fun when people figure out your puzzles and clues in fics tho i agree #boss the goofball #pocket talks to people

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post-machine-go-brrr · 3 years

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I heard that God was burning; that an all consuming fire had taken ahold of his body; that when we are cold we eat of his flesh, we are warmed by embers of the smoldering behemoth too gripped in his own pain to care about ours. But whence our empathy for the beast? For the devil? What ceaseless suffering behoves our envy? There are moments when you consider what forces people to jump from burning buildings. It isn't that they were no longer afraid of the fall, it's that an alternative so terrible, so unthinkable arrived at their doorstep they chose it willingly. To avoid melted flesh and charred bones. A quick death is perhaps preferable to a slow ravenous hollowing of your being, of your very essence. And there are no windows from which God may jump. He stands there burning in my mind. Burning. Laughing perhaps. But in such terrible pain the laughter becomes choked in this throat. And he begs me to kill him. He whimpers and cries and pleads with me for his life. Not that I may spare it, that I may take it. And I look upon the bread that is his flesh and take a bite while staring into those coals he calls his eyes. And I have seen him. And I too have burned. And when God left me windowless, I choose to offer him the bliss of non-existence. A soothing nothingness overcomes me. And the bread leaves me feeling cold. Was it right? Certainly. Would I do it again? Certainly. Life is duller now, flat, unilluminated by any flame. Some penumbra encroaching upon everything dear to me. It strikes me to strike a match and keep that darkness from reaching its zenith. But how would that end? As it began? Could it end? With no god to kill me? No blessings left in the dark. And then it is struck for me, a darkness of perhapses, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

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that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick · 3 years

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I've been so excited to write for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang 2021 (go check out other amazing fics and art in the collection at @mysme-rbb), and it's the first fanfic/art event I've participated in! @madiebelleadventures and I teamed up to brainstorm this beast, so her art is at the very end (because I ain't spoilin nothin)!

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: One day after the end of a work week, Vanderwood surprises MC with some husband-wife baking time—with a twist. Inspired by his agent training, he suggests that they bake as a team but have MC blindfolded. In order to make a cake that's actually edible, she must follow his directions to the letter. All that's left after that is chaos, banter, and spouse-flustering. And figuring out how to actually make a cake.

A/N: Fyi MC is definitely more of her own character than a reader-insert on this one. Also as per usual with me, I headcanon Vanderwood as British, so I tried heavily to align his phrasing accordingly, despite being an American myself. Enjoy seeing exactly how much fluff I can possibly cram into 5k words!

MC sighed happily at the feeling of the wind in her hair as she drove home from work one Friday evening. Windows down, jacket off, music blasting—the air itself felt like freedom. She had nothing against her job—in fact, she enjoyed it for the most part. She prided herself in a job well done, she liked being able to manage a team of her own, and the paycheck and benefits were good. Nothing extravagant, of course, but enough to comfortably support a couple newlyweds.

And that was the real reason MC nearly jumped out the door every day when everything wrapped up at the office. Who wouldn't, with a husband as unfairly hot as Vanderwood? Completely unfair how he could make leopard print and what was practically a mullet actually look attractive. Thank goodness his fashion sense had mellowed out over time, if only a little bit. With Vanderwood's past being what it was, they had mutually come to the conclusion that it would be best for their well-being if he stayed at their apartment during the day to keep the household running. He was very particular about how he cooked, cleaned, and did the laundry, and he handled their finances conscientiously and precisely. Admittedly, she did have to occasionally remind him that as sleek as that new top-of-the-line taser was, there was no real need for it, but that was just part of her husband's charm.

And boy, was he charming.

She truly couldn't wait to get home, past this rush hour traffic. She'd get home and be pulled in for a deep kiss moments after walking in the door. Maybe he'd slip a gentle but insistent hand into her hair. Maybe they'd take it a little further. Or a lot further.

"HOLY FUDGE NUGGETS ON BACON ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME???"

MC swerved to avoid a collision and waited for her heartbeat to settle down again. There was no freaking way she was going to die in some stupid car wreck before their date tonight. A surprise, he'd said. No matter how hard she'd tried to weasel more out of him, he wouldn’t bend. Darn agent training. Good thing it wouldn't be a surprise for much longer. Within minutes, the streets got smaller and quieter as she neared her apartment building. Another minute, and she flung open the apartment door and leapt on her husband.

MC's fantasies were soon replaced by an even better reality when Vanderwood's lips landed on hers. Kissing back enthusiastically, MC wrapped her arms around his middle so tight that a less sturdy man would be coughing for air. Vanderwood snatched her keys and purse and hung them by the doorway, never breaking his focus for a second. His kisses grew slower, but no less fervent, as he smoothed her wind-strewn hair. Eventually, their lips reluctantly parted, and MC broke the silence.

"How did I manage to snag the best kisser on earth on top of marrying the most insanely attractive man on earth?"

Vanderwood smirked. "Good taste, I guess." He kissed her once more soundly for good measure.

"Maybe. Will my insanely attractive husband tell me what our surprise date is now?"

"Perhaps."

"No perhapses! I've been dying waiting!"

"Very well. Start by changing your clothes, because I am not scrubbing stains out of your good work clothes."

"Do I otherwise have to wear anything in particular? That's not a lot to go off of."

"Doesn't matter to me. Now go change before I do the job myself."

"I wouldn't complain."

"This is not that kind of date! Go!"

"Fine, Sir Panties-in-a-bunch."

MC went to the bedroom and took stock of her clothing options. She had to choose something practical that could be easily washed, but she still wanted to look a little cute. After all, it was a date. It was a tough balance to strike. Eh, she could always stick an apron or an old shirt over it. She grabbed her oversized paint shirt just in case before snagging a light pink shirt. Now for the bottoms. She debated on a simple skirt, but decided to go for it. After all, if it didn't fit with Vanderwood's plans, he would tell her. MC changed quickly and weaved her hair into a side braid, slipping a tendril out on each side to frame her face. Mirror-MC nodded in approval. Time to see what on earth her husband had been planning.

She cracked open the door and peeked through before skipping over to Vanderwood, who had made himself comfortable on the couch. His amber eyes widened in interest.

"You have no business looking this pretty for a baking date."

MC grinned. "Ha! I did get it out of you! A baking date sounds cute. What made you think of that? Are you just really getting into the whole house husband gig?"

"It was my agent training, actually." Seeing the puzzled look on his wife's face, Vanderwood continued, "There's a bit of a twist to it, you see. I will hardly be doing any of the actual baking. You, my dear, on the other hand, will be completely blindfolded. You will have to follow my instructions explicitly, or else the result will be completely inedible."

"I still fail to see how the setup doesn't sound like 'that kind of date', but it sounds like fun! What does this have to do with your agent training, though?"

"Various exercises used similar techniques. Many times in the field, we had to follow orders to the letter with no questions asked if we wanted to make it out in one piece. We also did training to be able to operate blindly or in the dark if our vision was compromised. But none of it was as enjoyable as watching a beautiful woman bake a cake by pure trust."

"You're such a flatterer. Keep it coming," MC smirked.

"At least get into the kitchen first," Vanderwood said, handing her a blindfold that looked suspiciously like his nap mask.

"Okay, but if you don't want me in the kitchen until I'm blindfolded, you're gonna have to get my apron yourself."

"I thought I was the one giving out orders tonight?"

"A girl's gotta get her kicks somewhere."

"Such a docile wife I have. Never difficult, never demanding."

"You think it's sexy. Don't even try to deny it."

"I would have filed for immediate divorce if the description 'docile' actually fit you." He stepped into the kitchen and emerged a moment later with the apron. MC slipped it on and, after ducking briefly into the bathroom to wash her hands, covered her eyes with the blindfold.

"I'm at your mercy now. Don't abuse that privilege."

He materialized behind her, winding his arms around her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it," he murmured into her ear before attacking her stomach. MC burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I swear—!" she giggled "—I swear I'm going to punch the living daylights out of you!"

"You're certainly welcome to try. You know I wouldn't even feel it."

"But I could try. How am I supposed to trust you to give me decent directions to bake whatever the heck we're making if I can't even trust you not to tickle me?"

"You don't. That's the thrill of it."

"You'd better have me make something actually edible for all our trouble."

"That all depends on how well you follow my instructions."

"And how decent your instructions are. Let's not forget that tiny detail," she reminded.

"Hmm, we'll see," The smile was evident in his voice. "Now if we're going to start, we need to go ahead and do it."

"Probably."

He guided MC by her upper arms into the narrow kitchen.

"Fortunately," he said, halting and holding her in place, "we're only baking a cake and not an entire meal, so it won't take an eternity."

"I sure hope not! It's pizza night and I'm already a little hungry!"

He wound his hands around his wife's waist, lightly patting her stomach. "Well, the faster we start, the faster we can eat. I've already laid everything out for you as best I can, so you just have to follow my directions, all right, love?"

"Got it."

"All right, can you feel the worktop?" A nod. "Raise your right hand just a bit...and over…now grab the box with the cake mix, because heaven knows neither of us knows or cares enough to make it from scratch. Got it? Now open it up. The mixing bowl is straight to the left. Go ahead and pour it in."

"Just so you know, if I spill anything, you're the one taking responsibility."

"And why is that, darling?" Vanderwood asked, feigning shock.

"Because you're the one who had this idea in the first place! Not to mention if I make a mess it’s because of your faulty directions."

Unfortunately, MC failed to prove her point, pouring the mix into the bowl and barely spilling a few crumbs.

"Looks like we may not have to worry about that," Vanderwood smirked.

"You have met me, right? You know something's going to get spilled, right?"

Ignoring her, he moved the empty box toward the back and continued, "The milk should be right around where the cake mix was, if you can remember where you just were. The measuring jug is right next to it. Do you think you can pour it in correctly?"

"We'll see, now won't we?"

"There you go. Just try to take it slowly, just in case, and stop when I say so."

MC obeyed, gradually tilting the milk jug until a thin stream hit the center of the measuring cup.

"Brilliant! Now careful, careful, slightly to the left...that's it! Now slow down...almost done...stop!" He kissed her cheek. "That was amazing. Now pour it into the bowl."

MC felt around for the mixing bowl again. She managed to find it and poured in the milk. "Where's the cap for the milk jug?"

"Hm...where did it go? Oh, there it is. Right by the sink."

She batted at the air around her right side to find the inside of the sink. Instead, her hand bumped the side of the milk jug. Vanderwood's hand shot out to catch it, but a small puddle had already sloshed onto the counter. MC's hand shot up to take off the blindfold, but Vanderwood caught her wrist first. She sighed.

"Vandy, give it to me straight. How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all. I caught it before much got out. Stay put for a moment while I wipe it up so it doesn't start to smell or dry up."

"Not to say I told you, but I definitely told you."

Her husband stuck out his tongue at her—one of the few ways he had begun to let himself be childish lately. Then the obvious dawned on him. "I'm sticking out my tongue. I thought you ought to know that."

"Crucial information. Are you done yet?"

"Yep. You ready to get your hands a little dirty?"

"Isn't that expected in all this?"

"That's probably a large part of why you demanded an apron first, yes."

"You would be right about that, also yes. And you're so dramatic. I did not demand."

"Up to interpretation. Reach up to the left of the mixing bowl and just grab it off the plate and toss it in."

As instructed, MC reached over and let out a tiny shriek when her hand came into contact with the soft butter. Vanderwood guffawed.

"I was waiting for that."

MC gasped. "You did this on purpose!" She flung the butter into the bowl with an extra dash of vindictiveness.

"Maybe so. I like hearing your reactions," he purred.

"Don't try to be all smooth when you're being a twit. It doesn't suit you," MC sniffed, then muttered under her breath, "actually it totally works for you but it doesn't make me less ticked at you."

"By the way, don't bother trying to wash your hands just yet. The next part is probably going to be the messiest. I'll go get the bin so it'll be close by for you."

"Appreciated. What's the next part?"

"Eggs."

"Yikes, okay. That's why I needed the trash can, then. And where are the eggs?"

"To your left. You're going to need four of them. I read somewhere that adding an extra egg makes it better, hypothetically."

"You're the one giving the instructions."

"Alright, the bin is to your left, whenever you're ready."

"I could hear the thunk when you set it down, but thank you," MC said wryly.

"I live to serve."

There was silence for a moment as MC cracked the first egg into the bowl, and a soft smile rose on her face like the dawn. "Not anymore, you don't. I thank God every day that you and Saeyoung were able to free yourselves from the agency. I never could have forgotten you even if you hadn't, but I never would have known the immense joy I've gotten to have by being your wife." She sniffed, then laughed. "Sorry for being so sentimental all of a sudden, I don't know what got into me. It's just that knowing how many things could have gotten between us makes me that much more grateful for what we have."

"Ah!" Vanderwood shot a hand out to correct the second egg's trajectory into the mixing bowl.

"Oops, thank you."

"No problem, love. We're a team." He settled against her back, rubbing her arms lightly and placing a tender kiss on her cheek. "And never feel sorry for your so-called sentimentality. In fact, I really think you hold back sometimes. You shouldn't. I know that I used to scoff at these things, but locking out your emotions for job after job really takes a toll on a man. The agency had no room for love of any sort, and I've long come to the realization that every person is hardwired to desire love of one kind or another. I know I'm still unlearning all of my coping mechanisms, and I know I'm still sharp with some people, but with you?" He smoothed a hair back from her face. "I'll take whatever love you can give me."

She cracked the third egg into the bowl and threw out the shell. "I always knew you could be a softie, very deep down. I'm just glad that I get to be the one to see it."

After the fourth egg was in the bowl, Vanderwood directed, "Okay, time to wash up. The next thing is mixing for two minutes. While I love you, I do not trust you to use an electric mixer while blindfolded, so you're going to use a whisk for that job."

"I suppose that's fair. Can you put away the trash can while I wash my hands?"

"Already on it."

"Where's the whisk, again?"

"I kind of put it toward the back, so either be careful or wait for me to move a few things."

"Oh, I've got it. Don't worry," MC waved a hand in dismissal and groped around for the whisk, but her arm was a bit too low, and she dipped her clothed elbow in the plate where the butter had been. She sighed. "What did I just decorate my elbow with?"

"Butter. Try it. It might be tasty," he teased.

"Come on, Vandy, this is not the time. Help me get it off before it soaks in too much."

"Alright, alright, I just had to pick on you a little bit for not listening to me." He carefully scooped off the top layer of the butter with a paper towel before trying to absorb the rest. "I'm going to roll up your sleeves a bit more so that this hopefully won't happen again."

"Well, not until I slosh half the cake out of this bowl trying and failing to mix it."

"You'll be fine. Just stick to mixing the center and bringing the outside of it toward the center so everything gets mixed. But mix it well and mix it fast. The timer starts...now!"

MC held the bowl against her stomach to steady it while she mixed the batter vigorously. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one trying to mix furiously while keeping it all in the bowl on top of being blindfolded!"

"Calm down, you're doing great. A couple drips, maybe, but it's staying in."

"So far, anyway. But that's good, I guess."

"No guessing. It's quite good." Vanderwood leaned against the counter. "We've got a minute and a half to kill. Should I spend it telling you how you look right now?"

"Oh gosh, do I even want to know?"

He shook his head in near disbelief, smiling. "Magnetic. Adorable. More delicious than the cake we're making."

MC cackled. "You cannot be serious. I've got to be a mess right now."

"You act as if that's a contradiction. It's the mess that makes you more beautiful. Is every single hair of yours in place? No. But they fall around your face in the most delicately beautiful way. Even the places where the ingredients got smudged on you somehow add to your charm." He leaned in so that his lips touched her ear, his voice lowering to a gravelly timbre. "Did you know that your cheeks are all rosy from the effort you're putting into stirring? It's unbelievably attractive. And the way your lips press together when you're concentrating? It makes me want to kiss them apart. In fact—"

"Vanderwood, how much time is left?" MC interrupted, suppressing a vivid blush and a shiver.

"Our entire lives," he said, happily ignoring the real question.

"The timer, Vanderwood. How much is left on the timer?"

The sound of the timer going off answered the question for him. "None," he grinned. "I'll go spray the cake pan while you rest for a moment. You've earned it."

She exhaled, set the mixing bowl aside, and stretched. Then a thought made her panic. "Vandy, we forgot to preheat the oven."

He held her face in his hands. "MC. Darling. Breathe. I set the oven when I grabbed the apron."

Her breathing gradually slowed. "Sorry, love. I'm just really hungry and kind of tired and I think not being able to see is doing weird things to my brain and you kind of flustered me a minute ago with what you were saying and I'm sorry, I—" her voice cracked, but Vanderwood cut her off and held her close.

"Hey...hey...you're alright. There's nothing to be sorry about. I kept you going after a long day of work without feeding you first. I should have known better." He smoothed her hair and tucked it into her braid. "I'll tell you what. How about we get this cake in the oven and then order some pizza and watch another episode of Cucumber Fish?"

MC sniffled and hummed in agreement. Vanderwood loosened his hold around her and gently brought her hands to the bowl again before grabbing the cake pan. "Okay, all you've got to do now is pour it into the pan that I've put just to the left of the bowl. Just take it nice and easy. There you go. Perfect. You're almost done. Now let me get a spatula to scoop the last of it out." After he finished, he slid the cake pan into the oven and started the timer. "There. All done." He slipped the mask off her eyes and gave her a peck on the lips as she blinked to adjust to the light. "I'll clean all this up, alright? Go ahead and relax on the sofa. You can order the pizza and get Cucumber Fish queued up while I finish up in here."

"Okay," she murmured. Another peck, and she curled up on the couch. She pulled out her phone to order the pizza and smiled at the notifications she'd gotten from the RFA chatroom. They were up to their normal antics again. Hopefully, Saeyoung wouldn't exasperate Saeran too much with his crazy propositions. But there was nothing she could do about that, and she was starving and in desperate need of pizza. Once it was ordered, she turned on the TV and selected the episode, making sure to let it run past the ads before pausing it.

After Vanderwood joined her on the couch, the next forty-five minutes was filled with lots of cuddling and pizza devouring, more kissing than watching the show, a few glances at the cake's progress, an agreement to actually watch the episode while they ate the cake, and several minutes of cooling time after the cake was removed from the oven. Vanderwood emerged from the kitchen after a few minutes of setting up to decorate.

"Are you sure you want to put on the mask again?" he asked. "I don't want it to mess with your head like it did last time."

"I'll be fine, babe. I'm pretty sure it was like that last time just because I was starving."

"Are you positive?"

"Yes."

"If you say so. Go ahead and get them on, then," he said, handing MC the apron and mask.

"Just make sure to lead me into the kitchen again."

"Hmm, we'll see."

"We'll see?" she repeated, but shrieked soon after when she no longer felt the ground beneath her feet. Vanderwood had scooped her up to carry her into the kitchen bridal-style and sank his lips against hers with intentionality. He bumped into the counter but managed to avoid any damage to his wife. He deposited one last kiss on her lips before setting her down.

"What have you done to me, woman? Years and years of agent skills, undone in a moment. If it were anything or anyone else, I never would have bumped into that worktop. But when it's you kissing me, you're the only thing that exists." He grinned. "It's a shame, really. I thought my dexterity was an impressive skill, but I don't even have that anymore, it seems."

"Shame indeed," MC parroted, trying to steal another kiss from his lips and stealing one from his nostrils instead. She made a face, causing Vanderwood to laugh.

"Well, at least I still have the ability to order you around." MC smacked him in response, and he continued, "Alright, alright, let's get to it then. This is where it'll get really interesting, since decorating requires more precision. Which, no offense, is a skill you don't have, since you're not exactly used to being blind."

"Now wait just a—okay, I can't argue that," MC sighed. He placed a spatula in one hand and a jar of frosting in her other.

"Turn around. Can you find where the cake is?"

"Ye—wait, Vandy! I thought you said you cleaned up!"

"I did…sort of." Before she could protest, he interjected, "I wiped the worktop! I just pushed all the dishes to one side so we could put all of it in the dishwasher at once when we were done!" He added with a mumble, "I just wanted to get back to you."

"You think you can charm your way out of anything," MC responded airily. "Well, you're right." She squared up as best she could with a frosting jar in hand. "I found the cake. I'll try to do my best."

"Well, in this part, I won't let you go completely solo. I can rotate the cake for you as you go, if you want."

"Please."

MC scooped a large helping of frosting from the jar and started spreading around the perimeter. Her spatula made a slight detour for a moment to donate some frosting to the top of the cake, and Vanderwood halted and reversed his rotation slightly to avoid confusion. A few seconds later, she went for another, slightly smaller, scoop to finish frosting the circumference of the cake. Another scoop, added to the deposit from the first, finished off the top.

"Is there a big corner around the top edge? Or any dry spots?" she asked.

"Just a slight corner. Grab a little bit more frosting to round it off a bit and thicken the top."

She did as directed while he helped rotate, and stepped back. "Better?"

"Much better. Maybe we can add a little artistic touch by making some...what do you call them? Swoops? Around the sides from the top?"

"Sounds great. You're definitely going to have to help me, though."

"Alright, I'll rotate again and stop you when you're done. Then you can smooth off the top edge again quick."

Six slightly lopsided arcs later, he stepped back for a moment, observing. "This is certainly not the prettiest cake I've seen, but it all adds to the fun, yeah?"

"I guess," she laughed.

"Now here's the part that'll really get a laugh when you take off the blindfold. I've got a bowl over here with some frosting for smaller decorating, and you get to pick the food coloring that goes in it."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," he snickered while guiding her over to a trio of colored bottles that she couldn't discern. "Take your pick," he said cheerily. MC gingerly selected one, and he suppressed a snort poorly. "Excellent choice!"

MC groaned. "I'm going to regret all my life choices, aren't I?"

"Of course not! Only your decision to marry me."

"Hey." She squeezed his wrist. "I could never regret that."

"You might reevaluate that statement when you take off the blindfold and see the cake. Or at least my ugly mug."

"Vanderwood. Don't you even start with me. You're so hot that if we were working with chocolate instead of a cake, we wouldn't need the microwave to melt it."

"You're so hot that the beach would need sunblock instead of you."

"You're so hot that the sun goes to you when it needs to warm up."

They collapsed against each other, gasping for air. Vanderwood caught his breath first. "Let's get this food coloring in the bowl, shall we? The spoon and frosting are already in it. All you have to do is put a few drops in and stir until I say so. The bowl's on your left."

"As you wish," she said as she did so.

After a few moments, he spoke. "That's enough. Let me get you back over to the cake, and I'll get the frosting in the decorating bag. Which is really just an ordinary plastic bag, but I did pick up some cheap decorating tips when I got the ingredients."

"Splendid. How am I going to decorate, though? Even if I could see, I don't know the first thing about cake decorating. Oh yeah, and I can't see."

"Don't get your 'panties in a bunch,' as you like to tell me so often. I'll do it with you this time."

"But you don't know how to decorate cakes, either!"

"Ah-ah-ah!” he chided. “Do you trust me or not?"

"Not particularly."

"Hey!"

"But! We should just go ahead and do it anyway, because even though neither of us knows what we're doing, we're the only ones in this apartment who can. And the frosting smells too good not to eat soon."

"That's my girl." Vanderwood curled around her. He molded one hand around hers and slid the other over her stomach. As they formed a few swirls on the top, he murmured, "We did this whole thing together. How impressive is that? Was it as fun for you as it was for me?"

MC smiled. "Of course it was. I know I got a little hangry for a bit there, but I know how much thought you put into this. None of my old deadbeat ex-boyfriends ever would have cared so much, let alone shown it. These are the things that make me love you that much more."

"I never experienced any permanent love until you showed it to me. And it's been so...world-altering—that I've been trying to wrap my head around it ever since. I still can't. But I swear I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to give you the same love you've given me. I certainly don't deserve it, after the things I've done. But you do. You deserve all the happiness a person can have."

MC paused and blushed slightly. "Vandy…" She exhaled. "We've gone over this whole 'not deserving it' thing. Whether you deserve it or not doesn't matter. To me, what matters is your heart. You have such a beautiful heart, Vandy. I love the kind of man you've become. I've seen you strive every day to be better than you were the day before, and that is so inspiring."

"Well, whether or not I deserve happiness, I would choose to be happy every day if my being happy made you happy." He squeezed her hip affectionately and pulled her in for a tender kiss.

"It would." She kissed him back. They added one last swirl and a border before they set down the bag of frosting. He uncurled her fingers and fiddled with her wedding ring.

"Are you ready to see it?"

"Sure."

He slipped off the blindfold, and she gasped.

"What have we done?" she exclaimed as her laughing grew louder by the second.

"Whatever do you mean, dear?" Vanderwood asked, feigning ignorance.

"The cake is bright flaming orange, Vandy!" She let out a snort, then covered her face. "Hey, wait! All the food coloring was the same color too, you little twit!"

He shrugged innocently. MC sputtered. "Nuh-uh. Don't you shrug at me, mister. Saeyoung has rubbed off on you way too much."

"Has not."

She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, maybe the tiniest bit."

"Uh huh, that's what I thought. Now are you as ready as I am to eat this cake and watch Cucumber Fish?"

"Let me take a picture first. And another one with you in it? You look so lovely, I can't not have one with you in it."

She tried desperately to keep a frown on her face as he snapped a picture but couldn't quite hold back the quirk at the corner of her mouth. He cut a slice for each of them and handed one to her. He curled the paper plate around his slice, and she did likewise. They looked each other in the eyes, both knowing exactly what would come next. Vanderwood solidified his stance. "Ready...steady...GO!" The couple raced to the living room and took a running jump onto the couch, ready for the wonderful night ahead.

#mysmerbb #mystic messenger #mysme #mysme vanderwood #vanderwood x mc #my writing #my fic #mysme fic #collab #art collab

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joenns · 3 years

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omg miss ur new icon… for a hot second i thought i was on weverse and u were taehyung 😭😭😭

perhaps it is and perhapser ur indeed talking to taehyung welcome to my world of illusions baby

#i found this pic again while looking for a namjoon pic and i had to <3 #thinking of making it my whatsapp profile pic what do u think 🤔#answered #alice

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lorei-writes · 4 years

Text

Cubs

Mommy, we have a problem

Masamune x MC Modern AU Family AU Fluff Other stories happening within the same AU: Little Tiger , Not Alone , Storm

Some fluff flying your way, because why not. I really like writing soft stuff, as it turns out.

Content Warnings: pregnancy

“ What's so funny, Mr. Googly-eye?” she asked, tiredness showing in her smile. “ Hey, I've got rid of that thing from the eyepatch. You, on the other hand, still have whiskers,” he choked on words, the laughter threatening to escape his lungs and wake up their daughter at any moment.

The dim light of a bedside lamp enveloped Mai softly, as she changed into her pajamas, the T-shirt she wore throughout the day laying on top of the dresser, the fabric covered completely with specks of paint. She combed her hair with her fingers, only to find some of the locks held together by glue. She sighed, trying to chip away the adhesive just enough to somewhat separate the strands. She looked at the bed longingly, the muscles of her back sore from hunching over Iroha's newest art project, the urge to just lay down becoming almost irresistible. The door to their bedroom opened with a crack, Masamune sneaking into the room. He looked at her and chuckled. “ What's so funny, Mr. Googly-eye?” she asked, tiredness showing in her smile. “ Hey, I've got rid of that thing from the eyepatch. You, on the other hand, still have whiskers,” he choked on words, the laughter threatening to escape his lungs and wake up their daughter at any moment. She opened the drawer abruptly and reached for a small hand mirror, a barely audible groan slipping past her lips. “ No way. I rubbed at my skin for good ten minutes, this thing just won't come off,” she complained, her shoulders slumping. “ I'm soo tired.” He approached her, soon having her trapped in an embrace. “ You can take care of that tomorrow morning, right?” he hummed in her ear. “ Yeah, I suppose...”, she agreed, but didn’t move an inch. “ Then be a good kitten and go to sleep.” “ But my back hurts.” “ We can work with that,” he chuckled, nudging her towards the bed.

Mai lay on her belly, her nightgown pulled up to reveal the plain of her back. Masamune sat next to her, his fingertips caressing her skin, until he finally pressed harder on the tense muscles. She gasped in the pillow, the sensation being soothing, yet mildly uncomfortable at first. She closed her eyes, giving herself away to those gentle palms, which worked tirelessly on each and every sore spot they came across. From the tip of her shoulders, to the small of her back, his touch travelled, leaving warm paths all over her skin. Relaxed and content, Mai noticed the weariness lingering in her body starting to take over her, slowly pushing her consciousness into endless black. “ Hey. I think we should tell her soon,” Masamune suggested, pulling her back from dreams. His work having been finished, he pulled the fabric down to cover her. “ Yeah,” she sighed. “ Maybe we should wait until I start showing a bit more?” “ Is something bothering you, kitten?” he asked, lying down by her side. She turned to look at him. “ No. I'm just tired and I really, really want some orange juice.” “ I'll go shopping tomorrow.” “ Orange juice then, please. And chocolate ice cream. And spinach. Please,” she muttered, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. Before ten minutes had passed, she was sound asleep.

Days flew by, as if they were mere seconds. Perhaps Mai feared Iroha's reaction – after all, it could be scary to know that your parents would have to take care of somebody else just as well, to know that this very person would require more attention than you. Perhaps she didn't want to share the information with the world just yet, the prospect of her parents getting overly excited being somewhat draining. Maybe she dreaded the vision of others already putting her daughter in a role of a caretaker, such a common thing for the daughters to experience. Whatever the case – she couldn't wait anymore. While Masamune was washing the dishes downstairs, Mai tucked Iroha in. She was just about to get up and leave, when the girl said: “ Mom, we need to talk.” Surprised, she stared at her daughter. “ Sure. What is it, kitty?” “ Mom. I noticed you eat a lot of weird things. I think dad can't stand combinations like that. But I think I know why you do this,” the girl started, causing her mother to blink faster. “ And I still love you. I really understand. But you must stop, mommy! You can't do this to me and daddy!” “ Iroha, can you please tell me what do you think I am doing?” Mai asked, hoping to somehow resolve the situation, confused and slightly worried by the girl's tearful voice. “ You will hibernate like a bear. But mommy, humans don't hibernate! I watched TV with grandpa and there were bears there and they slept through the winter. But I need mommy in winter!” the child blurted out, trying to keep the sobs in. Mai, however, laughed a bit. “ I am not hibernating, sweetheart.” “ You promise?” “ Yes. Yes, of course I do,” she chuckled. “ But some things are going to change. It will not be so scary though, I promise.” She stopped for a second and looked around, trying to collect her thoughts. “ You see, you're going to have a younger sibling. They will grow inside my belly and then, they'll be very small at first, just like you were in the old photographs dad took. They will require plenty of attention and sometimes they may be annoying. But we – I and daddy – love you both and that is never going to change, okay?” “ 'Kay, 'kay. But mommy, we have a problem,” the girl stated, frowning. “ I'm not sleepy-sleepy now.” “ Wanna sleep with me and dad tonight?”

Perhaps they could have informed their daughter of the upcoming changes in a better way. Perhaps Mai never had anything to worry about – the various “perhapses” and “maybies” could be multiplied until the vastness of the universe was flooded with them. The present, however, was certain – and in that present, Iroha slept soundly between them, cuddling to her father, like a little kitty she was. Whatever would came, they could deal with that – together. Roughly six months had passed and they welcomed another tiny human into their family.

#masamune date #ikesen masamune #ikemen sengoku masamune #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff

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