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weapon-ish · 7 months

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alright long long sappy weird post incoming abt my own personal story of being an ao3 author with a "sorry i haven't updated in a while! [some of the wildest shit you've ever heard] haha i should be back at it more regularly soon though! thanks for your patience!"

for context i last posted a fanfic, my first and only one i published, TEN YEARS AGO. like almost ten years and one month to the day. i was fourteen?! and it was well received and boosted my confidence a lot - several writers i really admired complimented me, and a few artists even made fanart of it (and ALL the art was amazing!!!!!!!!!) it absolutely blew my mind. like, people were so freaking nice to me about my very first published fanwork, and it really really meant a lot to me then and still does now, that people cared enough about something i made to make something in response.

but also it made me nervous to put out anything else. i had other stuff i'd already written, and i had more ideas. but what if i just got lucky the first time? or the semi-sequel i was planning just didn't live up to the first one? all kinds of stuff that i think is probably really really normal for people to feel about Sharing Their Work. but i was very in my head about the whole thing. if i couldn't do it just as good or better the next time, i didn't want to do it At All.

and unfortunately, in the most typical fashion for an ao3 author, i had a life-altering medical emergency almost immediately after publishing. i had been sick for a while, trying to hide it. but it turns out i was, like, dying sick. like "i'm now permanently disabled" sick. and i'm okay enough now, but. life got significantly harder after that. many days i barely had the energy to watch television from my bed, much less sit at my desk and actually Write Something. my brain was fried and scrambled. my body was wrecked. i was deeply traumatized by my experiences.

(i will never, ever forget the kindness of one of my favorite fanartists; she drew me a card with my favorite characters holding balloons that spelled out "get well soon!" i didn't cry much in the hospital, but i cried a lot about that. i looked at it every day that i could physically operate my phone. i still have it saved. she sent it the first week i was in and i looked at it as much as i could for the next month i was there.)

for about a year, i didn't leave my house except for medical appointments, or maybe to visit my brother, and those visits were mostly just us sitting on the couch and watching things together. even that was hard, i'd fall asleep. but he was good to me.

and even when i got a little better, i still couldn't really leave the house, i could just sit at my computer. but i started making friends on the internet, actual good friends, people with similar experiences and interests. and when i was sixteen, after i finally got another surgery i really needed, i went on my first trip in years to visit an internet friend. i flew to another state by myself to meet a person i met on tumblr. crazy, right? but it was awesome. we're still dear friends. and a little later, another friend rode a bus halfway across the country to stay a week with me over a school break - and they were amazing. i met both those friends again, i even saw one of them last year, we still love each other so much.

having my brother and those internet friends genuinely gave me will to live. they saw what i was going through, and loved me relentlessly through it. they were completely understanding and accepting of my disability, even the objectively gross parts of it, and never made me feel bad for it. they showed me that my life, while radically altered, was not anywhere near over - that i could be disabled and also extremely happy. i didn't know that. in that hospital, i was so close to being entirely hopeless about anything ever being good again. on that airplane, at that bus station, i was so full of excitement and elation to be living. even when we weren't together, there was promise for more chances to see each other. even if i was tired, or in extreme pain, or nervous, i had love. so much love.

but i still lost a lot. head still scrambled, brain fog constant. i fell out of touch with creative writing, which was something i had loved since i was a small child. i mean, how do you write when it's hard to even read? i was a voracious reader as a kid, but not so much After. i say After because even though it all happened when i was just fourteen, i felt like i lost any chance to be a kid. like i lost a massive part of who i was, because i was used to who i was being what i could do, and i suddenly couldn't do those things. not the same way.

i was afraid to even try anymore. my skills had degraded and the prospect of having to truly work at what was once so easy, so natural to me - it seemed absolutely insurmountable. chatting about headcanons, sure, easy-ish! stream of consciousness. writing? actually writing things to show people? much harder. i even wrote my diaries in cryptic ways, strange fonts and multiple things overlaid in different colors, just to make sure nobody could judge the quality of - of my writing to myself.

and then, yknow, other life things happened. trying to graduate. getting a job and working myself to death to impress people (who did not care in the slightest about how hard i tried, and tossed me away like trash for being disabled.) the death of a very important person in my life. moving out. a string of questionable relationships and one actually really really bad one. trying to recover any of my sanity or self esteem after being abused by someone i trusted. bouncing between housing situations and sleeping in my car. finding love! the real deal! surviving the first half-year of the pandemic as an immunocompromised person with six roommates all working service jobs. multiple other devastating deaths. yknow, like? other insane shit? just really truly bonkers shit?

and in the last two or three years, i've gotten a chance to... relax. slow down. i live with just my wife now, in a decently sized place. i repaired my relationship with my parents. i have a polycule of extremely wonderful people, and really incredible friends. i'm not afraid of my partners. i'm respected by the people in my life. i'm allowed and encouraged to like things, to really like things, to not be ashamed of being autistic and having special interests. i'm encouraged to be creative in any form i want to try. my physical health isn't great, but it's stable. i'm stable.

and i decided... i wanted to write again. to try. even if it wasn't easy like it used to be. even if it wasn't "as good" as something i did ten years ago, nearly half my life ago. even if nobody cared except my friends. to just do it because i have thoughts, and feelings, and they're bouncing around inside my heart and my brain and my soul and i want to let them out! i want to share. i've decided that i do not have to be afraid of sharing.

and, like, is that kind of a silly point to come to? that i lived through hell and now... want to be unashamed to write and post fanfiction? maybe, i don't know, maybe a little bit.

but also, it's been almost exactly a decade since i got my shit wrecked by my own biology. i wrote and shared that first fanfic while i was trying to hide an extreme illness from my family - i had been getting sicker for months, and i didn't know why. but i didn't want help. i was deeply convinced it was better to die slowly than inconvenience anyone.

i wrote and published a silly fic to distract myself from something horrifying that was happening to me. and few weeks later - shit well and truly hit the fan, and i did die multiple times, and then i got to live with the consequences of not asking for help when i needed it. (and the consequences of medical malpractice! that's a big one too. not everything was on me. like, definitely some of it, but not all of it.)

and now i'm, like, pretty happy with my life. i have so much good all around me. i actually want to live, i have plans for my future, i have goals. and. i have the kindness to just. let myself enjoy things, process things creatively, think more kindly about my own work. be less hypercritical of myself and less fearful of judgement. so. i want to write? about things that interest me? not to distract from something awful, but purely as an expression of something inside me that wants to connect to the outside world. as a means to get back to everything i (intentionally or unintentionally) cut myself off from. it seems right.

in conclusion. earlier today i posted my first real live actual fanfiction in over ten years. and that's on the spiritual healing powers of being gay & transgender

#personal

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sparxwrites · 3 years

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What sorts of little noises Vax was making? 👀 Anything you liked in particular? 👀 DO TELL, I'd love to hear all about it C:

(If you want to, I mean.)

I liked the little panicked kinda shallow breathing he did before Sylas bit him, when Sylas ran a hand fondly over Vax's face. Also kinda obsessed how Sylas could just fucking PICK VAX UP WITH ONE HAND, even before Sylas bit him. Like, holy shit. And the scene where Vax is trying to fight back with the shard of glass and Sylas swipes at him and Vax looks like he almost passes out again before Sylas grabs him and lifts him up off his feet by the throat (again). NICE.

honestly just?? all of them?? all of them from the moment lord briarwood bit him to the point they left him alone in the pond... all those lovely little noises, it's the smallness of them that gets me. lovely lovely helplessness...

but also oh god yeah, the panicked breathing was phenomenal, as well as how touchy sylas was - not just the lifting off the feet (which was so good, so so so good, thank you animators for my life), but the intimacy of the biting, and the way vax seems so out of it towards the end of the bite and just. oh my god.

my only critique is i wish the "you two are very attractive" had been as horny-sounding as it was in canon, rather than a terrified attempt at misdirection. i think in canon he was pretending to be charmed?? it was peak bisexual vax and it was glorious and i'm sad it took a tone change.

but the rest of that was like... food for a whole week. i was Nourished.

#saiyanblood2 #ask #critrole #sparx chats #unfortunately i'm a freak and i love to watch characters get wrecked #and i have been deprived of vox machina whump for So Long

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bellakitse · 4 years

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Can I say I am just LOVING this drama? I hope they pull it off. (SPOILERS! if you haven't watched or won't watch the new promo) I aaam loving that we get to see Carlos "mess up", not really but you know. And his puppy eyes when he says 'are we breaking up' is just pure gold. I think most of us are guessing Carlos hasn't told his parents because bringing someone home (or simply mentioning a relationship) it's a big deal for his family. I'm hoping this leads to an I love you scene. I reeeeeaaaalllly hope it's not because he's not out to his family, really really hope not.

I too really hope he’s not still in the closet, because if he is, we’re going to reaccess so much about his character. We as a fandom have been working from the point of view that Carlos Reyes is an out and proud gay man, if that is not the case, it throws a lot of the character traits on their head.

I personally have a few theories.

1. That his parents know, but they’re very ultra-conservative like a lot of Hispanic households are unfortunately and it’s like of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ situation where Carlos just doesn’t bring guys around them to not rock the boat. If this is the case I will be first in line to hug the boy and tell him it’s okay.

2. They do know and are supportive, but Carlos is still unsure of how committed TK is to them so he hasn’t told them and freaks out when they run into them and ‘friend’ just comes out. (this is the one I'm desperately hoping for)

3. Carlos Reyes is still in the closet with his family cause he’s afraid they won’t accept him or that he’s letting them down, at which point I will koala myself around his back and never let him go.

Whatever it ends up being, I’m sure Ronen and Rafael are gonna bring it and wreck us all with their beautiful acting. Let’s buckle up, it could get bumpy nonnie.

#911 lone star #911 lone star spoilers #tarlos #carlos reyes #911 lone star speculation #anon #ask #Anonymous

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opbackgrounds · 4 years

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I'm not sure under which catagory this will fit but can you give your opinion on the relationship between Doffy and Roci? More specifically whether or not Doffy really loved Roci; and if he did, did Roci wrong Doffy as a brother? In my mind Cora-san did nothing wrong and it's mainly Doffy's fault that they ended up where they were; but i'm curious Thank you ❤

First things first, no I don’t think Cora did anything wrong, and, no, I don’t believe Cora was right saying that Doffy was inherently evil.

Secondly, this ask made me reread Law’s flashback for the first time since it was initially released, so while things are fresh in my mind I’m hardly an expert. My friends tell me that frees me to make an unbiased analysis, but I fully admit my stance on this isn’t 100% settled. I might change my mind on somethings later on, and that’s okay.

With that out of the way, let’s talk about feelings, and how they betray us.

I find Doflamingo difficult to write about because there’s so much about him that remains ambiguous even after the conclusion of his arc. One Piece villains don’t tend to be super complicated by themselves as much as how they interact in a complicated world.

Take Crocodile. What drives his actions during the Alabasta saga are simple: He wants military might after a failed attempt at the New World. The details of his backstory and the nature of his failure are fuzzy, but the basic motivation is pretty cut and dry.

Not so for Doflamingo. There are some hints that he wants to become the Pirate King, but for a decade he’s carved for himself a comfortable role in the underworld maintaining the status quo among the Four Emperors, gaining wealth and prestige on the slave market dealing black market weapons. Maybe all he wants is to laugh while watching the world burn. Who knows, not me.

What makes analyzing Doffy and Cora difficult specifically is that Cora is a liar. Seriously, I don’t think there’s a major character in that entire flashback that he’s not dishonest with. So you get moments like this

Mixed with moments like this

Making it difficult at times to know where exactly Cora stands. I mean, if he truly believed Doflamingo was born a monster, that there wasn’t a scrap of decency in his body, would he really have hesitated to shoot, even knowing he was about to be killed?

There is a lot of ambiguity in the characters of Cora and Doffy. To paraphrase Shrek, they’re like onions, with lots of layers to dig through. At the end of the day I think there are multiple valid interpretations that stay true to the text, and unless Oda decides to go Word of God in an SBS or something it’s going to stay that way.

For what my two cents are worth, I don’t think even Cora knows how he feels about Doffy. On the one hand, he’s made it his life’s work to limit the destruction Doflamingo can wreck on the rest of the world, but on the other, he’s fighting against his blood brother. Cora I think was right when he said that he and the other executives understood Doflamingo better than anyone else in the world

Because remember, Cora was there. He saw Doffy kill their father in cold blood. He heard his brother vow revenge even as the rest of the family begged for mercy from the enraged mob who nailed them to a wall. He’s seen the rage Doflamingo is capable of and the lengths he’ll go to in order to get back at those he thinks have wronged him.

Oda has always struck an interesting balance been Nature and Nurture within the series. I’ll touch on it more when I write on the Celestial Dragons as a whole, but you can’t really look at the environment Doffy grew up in and say that he had any chance and becoming anyone else that he did.

Cora and his parents were, at best, outliers within the culture of Mariejois. You know that the family had slaves before they decided to live like normal people because as a child Doffy asks if they can buy more. You get the implication that Homing never had the strength of will to correct his son’s misbehavior, nor did he have any idea of what he was getting his family into (his idea of a “comfortable life” is a giant freaking mansion) and after his death Trebol and the rest fed Doffy’s worst traits, molding Doflamingo just as much as an adult Doflamingo molded the children left in his care

So while Doflamingo always had a strong will and a mean streak, neither did he ever have a character like Sengoku to set him on the straight and narrow. You can’t tell me that if during the Void Century the Donquiote family decided to stay and rule Dressrosa and the Nefertiti family abandoned Alabasta for Mariejois that eight hundred years later that’s not at least a chance that Vivi ends up as a super villain with a god complex while Doffy is ruling as a good, wise king.

So in wrapping this up, I think the relationship between the brothers is messy and complicated. For as much as Doflamingo spouts how much he values his blood brother during the first half of the flashback, he was pretty damn quick to assume that Cora had betrayed them after he ran off with Law (and to be fair, he was right). I think there was always a part of Doflamingo that doubted his brother, because he disappeared for eight years, and because of the supposed “weakness” Cora showed when they were children. I think there’s some truth to the statement that Doffy values the four other executives more than Cora

Putting a very twisted spin on the found family trope that One Piece puts so much emphasis on. I think Doflamingo expected Cora to betray him because he’d been betrayed by his “own kind” so many times before: By his father, and then by the Celestial Dragons as a whole, who I think people tend to forget tried to kill him when they found out he had learned their big secret

(As an aside, I love Oda’s attention to detail—the silhouette of the armor is exactly the same as what we see at Mariejois itself)

At the same time, I think Doffy was genuinely disappointed when his suspicions about Cora were correct. Doflamingo gave his brother everything, including a seat at his right hand, only for Cora to throw it back in his face. Doflamingo had planned for Cora to eat the Op-Op Fruit and give up his life to give him immortality, but Cora refused to be controlled.

And if there’s anything Doffy hates, it’s not being in control.

For his part, I think Cora told himself often enough that his brother was a monster that he mostly believed it. Whether or not it’s true or not doesn’t really matter, because Cora believed his brother was beyond saving. The fallen god had become a devil that needed to be put down for the sake of the world.

And yet he couldn’t pull the trigger.

It’s unfortunate for him that Doffy didn’t have those second thoughts.

#opbackgrounds #one piece #long post #Doflamingo #corazon #character analysis #sarc talks

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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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