A dumb idea that has been floating in my head for quite a while, so I finally put it onto paper. Surge with Surge! Let's be honest. She's totally the type that would drink it.
natasha romanoff x gn!reader (ft. jeff the landshark)
word count: 640
warnings: i curse twice, sorry
A/N: welcome to jeffmas!!!! i have decided (if all goes to plan) i will be posting a holiday jeff fic every wednesday of december! a very special thanks to my co-president of the jeff cult, @wolferine , for the inspiration and the support to write for jeff. i hope you like it :)
- - -
The holiday season always seems to make everything ten times more stressful than it needs to be. You can’t think of one person who isn’t, at least, a little bit more stressed during the month of December.
It’s with this sentiment you trudge home through the melting snow on the ground. You silently rejoice when your front steps come into view. Your heart picks up speed at the sight of lights inside.
Natasha is home.
She’d been away on a mission for the last week and a half, and you miss her desperately.
As you enter your house, Liho comes up to rub against your ankles. You’re so exhausted and excited at the prospect of seeing Natasha again that your mind doesn’t even register the second cat bed sitting on the floor in the living room.
“Natasha?” you yell into the silence, hoping to locate the redhead.
She peeks her head out of the hall closet, hairs that have fallen loose from her bun flying wildly.
“Oh! Hi, love. What’s up?” she asks you nervously.
“What’s with the tone, Nat. And why are you in the closet?”
“Uh...so, funny story.”
You raise your eyebrow at her.
“Don’t worry about it! Why don’t you go get changed into some comfy clothes, and I’ll be right there.” She flashes you one of her dazzling smiles.
You decide to humor her. Despite being a world-class spy, Natasha is quite bad at surprises when it comes to you. She’s been permanently cut out of the Avengers’ planning committee for your birthday parties.
After changing out of your work clothes, you decide to stop by the kitchen to make something warm to drink. You’re still shivering from your walk home.
You’re shocked out of your thoughts by the wagging shark tail sticking out of your pantry. The shriek that leaves your body is not human.
Natasha softly groans from her spot in the hall. This must be her secret, and you’ve found it before she wanted you to.
“Um, babe? Do you want to explain the fucking shark in our kitchen?” you shout to your girlfriend.
At your voice, the tail turns around. It's attached to a portly shark with four tiny legs. He looks up at you and rubs his face against your ankles just like Liho did. You’re silent as he confidently struts out of the kitchen with a mouthful of your snacks. You watch as he trots over to the second cat bed, that you’re just now noticing, and gets comfortable. Liho seems uncharacteristically unfazed. Natasha is concerned you've gone into shock.
“What just happened?” you ask in disbelief.
There are no words in the English language you can think of to respond to this situation. You silently stand there in the kitchen, Natasha nervously wringing her hands, for what feels like hours. The occasional disbelieving glance from you is sent over towards the landshark that’s taken up residence in your living room. Finally, you speak up.
“Does he have a name?”
Natasha breathes a small sigh of relief. She’s not sure that she’s completely out of the dog house, but at least you’re not immediately throwing him out. She mumbles something faintly. You’re not sure you heard her correctly.
“I’m sorry. What?”
“I said his name is Jeff,” she sighs defeatedly.
You bark out a laugh. “That’s the greatest thing I’ve ever heard!”
Natasha’s shoulders finally release the remaining tension. Maybe it’ll be okay after all.
You gather her hand in yours and lead her into the living room. The sight of Liho and Jeff asleep on their respective beds warms your heart. You’ve only known him for a few minutes, but you’re sure you’d do anything for him.
Little do you know just how much that’s going to come back and bite you in the ass.
- - -
taglist: @007giu @vancityfire13
It’s gonna get harder and harder to top these as she gets older. But she outgrew the unicorn T-Rex and has almost outgrown the cartoon of her going into battle on the Pegasus so she gets Jeff the land-shark and pizza this year.
From FURY, Jan 1961, art by Phil Ronfor https://flic.kr/p/2mwYdMf
'My child turned out fine' your child has Marty Robbins in their top 5 artists in 2021
New shark tooth candle coming soon😍
Perfect for stocking stuffers!
Heart-stopping moment massive shark chases surfers as they frantically paddle back to shore
THIS is the dramatic moment two surfers were chased by a huge shark as they frantically tried to race back to shore. Heart-stopping footage shows the beast’s dorsal fin poking out of the water in Puerto Rico as choppy waves crash around it \- just feet away from the pair. Two people in the water ‘… ‘ Read Full Text
View On WordPress
tumblr trying to show off the #diversitywin in how only some 20% of ships trending this year were m/f and then you look at their top list and many of them are ships involving real people and incest like..... babygirl that’s not a win xx
woooooooo my friends invited me out for drinks tomorrow night 😎
just gave birth to a jellyfish
RAVS IS HERE <3
That was the year the cicadas started
in my skull. Their buzz-saw droning; the fraught
song of dust and summer, I'm told. Bleated
noise. It came with the pneumonia. I thought
it was part of the fever. If my ghost
shark can haunt me during delirium
why not raucous bugs in the innermost
depths of my ear? Soon my fever's bedlam
faded but the sing-song did not. Even
now, love, as I write this, the din's low groan
keeps me distraught. I wake with radio
static, thinking the dark bellowed. Listen.
Only I can hear it, that deep bass drone;
what hell's divas call, “Basso profundo.”
In opera the lowest vocal range that a tenor can go is called basso profundo. Starting around a year ago I began developing tinnitus, a ringing in the ears like radio static that is often accompanied by hearing loss. In the last two months or so it has gone from a dull buzz that I could ignore to a much louder droning which wakes me up at night. I find the sort of disconnected musing I need, such as when I'm writing, harder now.
The two scariest movies of all time are Jaws and Dark Crystal and you cannot change my mind
Sometimes Shark pretends she is a German Shepherd
(She's stalking a bird)