cravensvvorth

[slavicshadownr]

Phil: Agent Romanoff what are you doing? Natasha: Wrapping Barton’s desk in Saran Wrap. Phil: Uh why? Natasha: He stole my one of my knives. Phil: Couldn’t you have just taken it back? Natasha: I couldn’t find it so I removed all sharp objects from the office so he has to either unwrap it by hand or use my knife. He’s a dumbass so he’ll use my knife which is when I will steal it back and he is left to unwrap it by hand as punishment for stealing my knife in the first place. Phil: That is actually genius. Natasha: Yes. It is.

[forcesensitivebantha]

hi. hawks your eye or whatever

[ao3topshipsbracket]

AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 3

This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[scavengerssuccotash]

"Clint did what?!"

Phil sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “He punched the Russian ambassador.”

Fury twists to look at Natasha who sits primly in Phil’s office chair. She doesn’t look up from where she shapes her nails with a black nail file.

“Don’t look at me, I didn’t ask him too.” Natasha says, innocently.

Fury places his hands on his hips and glares. “Dare I ask what he did to deserve that? I sent you two to warm relations, not set them back fifty years!”

Natasha merely raises an eyebrow before fanning out her fingers, inspecting the almond shape of her nails. Frustrated Fury turns his one eyed glare back onto Phil.

“Well?”

Phil rubs a hand over his mouth, a strange expression crossing over his features. “It seems the Russian Ambassador called Agent Romanoff a…”

“A prostitute.” Natasha cuts in dryly, still filling away at her nails. “To which I reminded him, quite nicely I might add that, that compensation for my services might be looked at favorably should my dear motherland feel so inclined to remedy the past. Mr. Volkov agreed.”

Fury shakes his head. “Agent Romanoff, while it’s an unfortunate turn of phrase you can’t—“

Finally she rises from her chair and crosses her arms. “I don’t have a problem with sex work, Director Fury.”

“Then why—“

Natasha rolls her shoulders, nonchalantly. “Clint thought the suggested sum was low.”

“How much was it?” Fury asks.

Natasha gives him a feral grin. “1.2.”

Fury stares up at the ceiling, wondering not for the first time how the hell he had found himself with Strike Team Delta as Shields golden goose when they act like this. “I’ll go report to the council—“

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that just yet, Director.”

Natasha pats him on the shoulder before handing off her phone. There on the screen is a bank account with 2.5 million. Fury’s mouth drops open in surprise but before he can say anything a rapid succession of honks alert them. Fury and Phil both race to the window and peer out. There in SHIELD’s parking lot, haphazardly parked, was a purple and black 2014 Bugatti.

“Mr. Volkov also offered his car to compensate for the bruised state of Agent Barton’s left hand. In return he hopes for a lighter tarfiles and lifted sanctions. I told him we would discuss.” Natasha explains behind them, a touch of pride in her raspy voice. Then she claps her hands together, bringing both of their attention back to her. "Now, if that is all gentlemen I have plans for the rest of my evening!"

And with that Natasha Romanoff departs, grinning wildly. She goes so far as to wiggle her fingers at them through the window in a goodbye wave.

Director Fury can only watch in stunned silence until she skips out of sight. "Did...did Strike Team Delta just extort 2.5 million and Bugatti out of a foreign national, Phil?"

Phil blinks, shocked. "I-I think so!"

“What the hell am I supposed to tell The Council?"

“Oh, that is far above my pay grade sir, but I would suggest being proactive in giving them a promotion.” Phil comments.

Thank you for sending me prompts my dear! @firlalaith I do so hope you enjoy a badass moment from our precious duo.

[emmedoesntdomath]

“rare pair” is such a funny phrase. like. honey. sweetie. babes. is that a challenge? are you challenging me? it feels like a challenge. imma take it as a challenge. I will personally defy that standard, just for you. I will ship it so hard that calling it a rare pair is like calling the sky an ugly forest green with a smiley face for a sun. you scroll through that ao3 feed, it’ll just be me. tumblr tags? I gotchu, bro. pinterest? already there. about to break the internet for this goddamn ship.

[tremorsmackenzie]

There is an unexplored time period in shield where maria, bobbi, may, natasha, isabel hartley, sharon carter, clint and coulson all worked simultaneously at shield and its a crime that we havent seen anything set in it. that literally sounds like the best thing ever.

like, may has nat in her contacts (season 2 i think). come on.

just imagine the snark.

[between-the-pages-ofa-book]

I love that the MCU has a confirmed multiverse because my versions of what happens to the characters in different worlds is limitless. If I don't like canon, that's fine; I'll just make up a different universe instead. I like canon but also like imagining something else happened? I'll just make up a different universe.

Natasha died and Steve went back in time to be with someone else? Nah, they're soulmates in almost every other universe.

Clint has a wife and kids that I do like in the main timeline? Sure, why not? But there's another world where he ends up with Natasha because I said so.

Natasha died and barely got any time with her sister after finding Yelena? Absolutely did not happen in either of the above mentioned worlds. She finds her sister, fights Alexei some more, and the two become close because I said it has to happen.

Wanda dies by having rubble fall on her after she tries to get her sons back? No, she's living happily ever after with Vision and her twin sons.

Peggy Carter ends up with Steve in the end? Well, in my universe, she ends up with Daniel Sousa.

Grant Ward betrays the team and ends up dying alone for his body to be used by some alien parasite? Well, there are 2 ways we can fix this: the world where he never betrayed them and the other world where he actually does get a redemption.

Phil Coulson permanently dies and he and Melinda May never actually get their happily ever after? Nah. He's alive and well and they're married. The Bus Kids come by every so often for dinner.

[negasonic9403]

Okay, so I'm watching Agents of Shield for the first time (I'm still early in season 1) and I'm finally putting together that Nat and Clint were actually Shield Agents before becoming Avengers and now I really wanna know if they had high enough clearance to know that Coulson lived.

[burningfudge]

I would’ve replaced Fury Jr and Coulson with Steve, Tony, or Logan instead. I just think the way Marvel tries to push Fury Jr as the actual Nick Fury because of the MCU is kinda weird. Is the OG Fury even around these days?

Black Widow: Venomous (2024)

[hero-i-am-not]

Clint: Soooo

Phil: What is it, Barton?

Clint: Nothing! I brought you coffee!!

Phil, pinching his nose: Clint.

Clint: …

Phil, waiting: …

Clint: ImSorryIDidntMeanToShootIt

Phil, taking a bracing gulp of coffee: How much damage?

Clint, hiding: $20 million

[deepinthelight]

Heroes & fans

[gunsandspaceships]

How to recognize your friends. Part 2

Part 1.1, Part 1.2

Tony's friends:

Tony:

Part 3

[ao3topshipsbracket]

AO3 Top Relationships Bracket- Round 2 Side 1

This poll is a celebration of fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.

[amaranthmori]

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 29 - fatigue

Warnings: none I can think of

Word Count: 1.3k (gif not mine)

Summary: everyone is tired

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist.

.

Maria yawns.

Knocking on Clint’s door, it feels like déjà vu.

To her surprise he’s awake and comes to the door quickly.

“You look like shit,” she tells him bluntly.

“Yeah,” he replies.

She follows him in, worried.

“What happened?” she asks, as he offers her coffee.

She nods, and he makes another pot, standing looking at her with sunken eyes. His movements are clumsy, unlike him.

“You’re not sleeping,” she assumes.

“Nightmares,” he confirms.

Maria nods, her worry deepening.

“Are they getting bad again?”

Clint doesn’t answer, occupying himself with making her a drink.

“Yeah.”

He hands it over and she sips it, not commenting on the strong taste and bitterness of it.

“Stay here,” she offers, “sleep or rest if you can.”

He shakes his head.

“I can’t… I got…”

“Natasha, I know, I can go?”

She can tell how truly shit he feels, because he considers it before refusing again.

Maria sighs.

“How about half a day? I’ll go on to make sure she’s okay, and then you can come in and finish the day?”

Clint looks around, eying the couch.

“I’ll knock you out myself,” she offers.

Clint gives her a half smile.

“Thanks.. I just… there’s these dreams and sometimes they just stick.”

She frowns.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A look of fear passes across Clint’s face, an honest moment, before the relaxed expression returns.

“No, not really,” he answers.

Maria sips her coffee, wincing this time.

“Anything I should know, before I see her?”

Clint looks uncertain.

“She has a letter for Olivia. She wants to get it to her. She said anyone could read it, but I think it’s private. She also went into archives yesterday. I don’t know what information she found, but I don’t think it was what she wanted.”

Maria nods.

“I.. Uhh.. I don’t think she’s sleeping either.”

Maria finishes her coffee and stands.

“Thanks for coming over.”

Maria grabs her keys.

“You’re on the way.”

They both knew it was a lie.

“Just… try and get some sleep okay?”

Clint nods, running his hand over his face and sighing heavily.

“And eat and drink something.”

She stops at the door, “something that’s not coffee.”

He stands with her and pushes air out of his lips in a huff.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He watches her leave, closing the door gently behind her.

.

Maria thinks now her offering of donuts and coffee for Natasha seems stupid, as she knocks at the door.

She berates herself, moving from foot to foot.

The door opens and she notes the look of surprise on Natasha’s face.

“Your face is looking better,” she tells her, noticing the raw healing skin on her forehead.

“I did a good job.”

The small half smile that Natasha gives is short lived, but returns when she holds up the coffee and donuts.

“Where’s Clint?”

Natasha always seems so even, her voice never raising, but Maria thinks she can tell when she’s worried; her voice goes quieter.

Maria wonders if she knows the tell.

The question is quiet, reserved in its essence, but to Maria it betrays the worry.

“He’s fine. He’s coming in later.”

Natasha opens the door wider, allowing Maria inside.

The space is perfect and neat, like no one lives there. Natasha could leave and they wouldn’t know this had been her room.

She wonders where all the little things are that Clint had given to her.

The small knick knacks are likely hiding somewhere, just not in plain sight.

“Do you want to spar later?” Maria asks on a whim.

Natasha’s face lights up.

“Yes,” she replies, and then, maybe because she replied quickly, “I’d like that.”

Natasha chews on the offered donut, and sips at the piping hot black coffee, and not for the first time, as they sit in silence, Maria wonders if they could be friends.

.

The first hit is tentative.

Maria stops and looks at her.

“What the fuck was that? If you’re going to hit me, just do it.”

Natasha nods.

“Are you sure?”

Maria rolls her eyes.

“Do you need a safe word?”

Natasha's question makes her bark out a laugh.

“You’ve been sparring with Clint?”

Natasha nods.

“His safe word is yellow.”

Maria laughs again.

“Sure, yellow. Three rounds, 3 minutes. That work for you?”

Natasha nods.

They start again.

This time, the punch comes straight, Maria moves to the left and dances back.

It’s clear that Natasha has been trained. In what martial arts? She’s not sure. It seems to be a combination of many, and the integration of all.

She throws a kick, and feels her legs being swept underneath her, falling she grabs onto Natasha, almost climbing her and pulling her down with her.

It almost works.

Natasha pushes back and allows Maria to stand.

They circle each other.

Throw in a series of jabs and punches, hooks and kicks to the body and head, the timer seems to be at a stand still even as the seconds count down.

Maria feels herself become tired.

She’s been slacking.

Her early morning run had only been 3 miles instead of her usual 8, and her weights program was sorely neglected.

Angry at her own poor time management, she makes it to the final round of 3 minutes and groans.

Natasha looks around, finding the drink fountain and moves to go fill two paper cups.

They sip the water in silence, both leaving a puddle of sweat underneath them.

“I’m done,” she announces, laying back, letting her chest heave. Natasha may have kicked her ass, but she feels it wasn’t woeful on her part either.

“That was enough.”

Natasha nods, eyes watching, her breath under control much sooner than Maria’s.

“Thanks,” she replies. “I’ve earned some sleep.”

Maria closes her eyes, choosing to ignore Natasha’s statement and the implication that rest is only earned, and not just a part of the human experience.

“Yeah,” she replies, “me too.”

.

Fury rubs his eyes, removing his patch and flipping it up onto his head.

“What do you think?”

Coulson leans back in the chair, glancing at the proposal, he doesn’t answer, still reading through the document.

“I think I’m tired,” he replies, passing the papers back over and shrugging.

“I think it’s a good idea. You can’t do anything else. You can’t kill her after all she’s done, you can’t send her away, and this might be the only way she’s accepted.”

Fury staples the paper, the large confidential in red over the top of it.

“Well, there’s a long way to go before that happens, but the small strike teams have worked for us before.”

Coulson nods.

Fury stands and heads to his filing cabinet, putting the papers inside.

“I’ll take it to the WSC tomorrow, they’ll agree.”

He holds up a bottle of brown liquid and offers it across to Coulson.

Nodding, Coulson produces two glasses from the cabinet behind him.

“I think she’ll do some good. I mean look at all she’s inadvertently accomplished being locked up? She’s been here just over six months and already we’re better off.”

Fury pours the alcohol.

“Do you think Barton knew what he was getting into?”

Coulson shakes his head.

“Did you?”

Fury replaces his eye patch, his look of intensity returning as he sinks further into his chair.

“No. I don’t suppose I did.”

“I think he’ll be okay. There are worse things than having a widow as a partner.”

“What about Maria?” Coulson asks.

“What about her?”

“She’s too good an agent to not be part of a team.”

Fury considers the words, considers Maria and how efficiently she’s managed everything, from reporting to debrief to mission planning.

The intelligence involved in the way she handled herself.

“You’re going to need someone by your side too,” Coulson reminds him.

Fury sips his drink, the long drag helping him think.

“Yes, I suppose I will.”

The two men sit in the office, the world dark as they continue to talk into the night, though fatigue drags at both of them.

.

[winter-angst]

Clint: rock paper scissors but if we do the same move we gotta kiss

Phil: excuse me, agent?

Clint: you in?

Phil:

Phil: yes