Hawkeye

HOH

Ian worked the night away typing up tests, and worksheets before he finished up the last paper he had then yawned and crashed on the world most comfortable beanbag furniture. It wasn’t until almost 11am the next day did Ian get up and try to put himself together in some way to get ready for the evening.

Turning on his phone Ian saw Gertrude the leader of S.H.H. was ill so Ian would have to take over… great. He was hoping to slide in a half hour later as usual but now he would have to order refreshments, and set up. A thought came to mind then and Ian smiled. Ian scrolled through his information and e-mailed Clint then, a short message.

‘Leading the group tonight, ordering food, wanna help? Text me @’ and left his number before hitting send. Ian set his phone down and cleaned up the three days worth of dishes, swept his place then showered before he had to be at work.

Clint spends the next day at work, in the shooting range until there’s nothing left of the target because he’s ripped through the entire thing. When he sets his gun down and starts on his bow, he’s already feeling a lot calmer.

When his phone beeped to tell him he had an email he was surprised to see it was Ian. Blinking in confusion he bit his lip as he thought about it. It was a good idea really. Get out of the house, as much as he didn’t want to. Finally he decided to text back.

‘Sure thing, just gotta shower.’ He set his bow back into it’s holder before he was heading off to the showers to get himself clean again. He’d worked up a reasonable sweat during the day but the shower was quick before he was grabbing his phone again and heading towards the exit.

infernadiaboli-blog

“Stop talking or tell you why I’m wearing a mask? Come on make up your mind.” He pause. “And carrying a bow around isn’t? As for the mask, it’s for identity purposes.”

“Only one person I know that carries a bow aside from me and she ain’t here.” Clint narrowed his eyes. “And how do see with that exactly?”

You guys should go play with my Wade Wilson/Deadpool because I am having some serious Wade feels today, and he needs more people for me to practice with.

FYI, I hate all of you and made a Peggy Carter blog. Damn you all. Damn. You. All.

#I'll link her later

infernadiaboli-blog

“Are we going to tell each other are problems, because forgive me if I don’t answer your question. Besides I thought we weren’t playing nice.”

#i don't think they know how

“Do us both a favor and stop talking. Or better yet, tell me what you’re doing running around with a mask on. It’s suspicious.”

Steve’s storyline always makes me fucking miserable when it’s mixed in with Peggy Carter. I knew I shouldn’t have watched Agent Carter, this literally fucking kills me. That’s it. I’m never listening to you people again.

#i'm not crying #you're crying

And here are the tears brought on by agent carter, fricken why!

HOH

“Strong nimble fingers.” Ian spoke then grinned, “Be safe” was Ian’s customary farewell greeting to his friends and now apparently Clint. He made a right up the street and went to the first subway station.

After tutoring Ian did his usual errands, groceries, water, mail. He wound up back at his building just after 6pm. Ian got in and put things away, then cleaned up before doing a load of laundry before booting up his tablet and starting to look over e-mails and class curriculum.

A small flush crossed over Clint’s face and he smiled, nodding his head before he too turned away and left. When Clint got home, he fed to dog and dropped himself onto his couch, facefirst. He never did much when he got home, never did much when he wasn’t out on a mission actually. Sleep took over quickly as he mulled over whether or not he’d go to the meet on Friday.

HOH

Ian smiled and picked up his money before pocketing it, when Clint looked at him the white haired man just smiled wide, “Thank you, and see you if not Friday then next Thursday right here, same time.” Ian signed then spoke but his speech was more of voicing signs than proper English. He scooped up the trash he’d left, stood then offered his hand to Clint. “Good work, now if you sign as well as you shoot we wont need speech or hearing aids.”

Clint wished he could have replied entirely with his hands. It was odd that he knew Ian preferred speaking like that and he bit his lip for a moment. He pulled his hand out of his pocket to shake Ians, giving a small grin. “You’ve never seen me shoot... but you’re right I’m good with my hands. I’ll see you... Friday or Thursday.” He replied, pulling away gently.

howlsniper-archive

[text] I ate the whole wheel of cheese. Help. (bc new threads and memes are wonderful to help Clint play while I have his muse. Besides. Clint would so fucking do that.)

{I so love you.. I needed this <3 }

[text Hawk] … I knew you couldn’t resist that cheese wheel. Hang on, Im on my way.

Callie went through her barracks, and started looking for all the emergency items she needed. She was used to him doing this, as she shook her head with a grin.

When he knocked on his door, she had the bag of essentials in her hand, and a grin on her face. “Did someone call for a home visit?” she teased as she held up the bag as a peace offering.

howlsniper-archive

Callie felt a soft smile form on her lips as she felt him press a gentle kiss to her hand and pull her down to sit next to him. “Then I would suggest we let you crack open that so you get to feeling better.” She replied.

“True.. But I also had gotten you the coffee because I knew you were running out too.” She pointed out with her gentle smile.

“Never was a fan of them separating our missions.” She mumbled as she let out a sigh, her hair blowing off her forehead before she leaned back and tipped her own head to the side as she looked back at him, “but we make the best out of it don’t we.” She replied as she reached over and rested a hand on the side of his face, fingers trailing against his cheek.

#hopefully clint muse sticks with me now!

Clint reached for the medicine and popped it open, tipping back a couple of the pills before setting it back to the side. He lay back on the couch and let his head rest in her lap with a small hum. “Usually we try to make the best out of it.” He murmured, closing his eyes against the sun as he waited for the medicine to set in.

“I run out of coffee the day I buy it.” He finally murmured, laying his arm between the back of the couch and Callie as he glanced up at her. “If we ended up on the same mission though, we both know it’d end with distractions. Can’t afford that.” His voice was soft as he spoke, apologetic almost.

“I can’t stand the thought that I don’t know what’s going to happen to the world in hundreds of years.”

James hummed at the thought that the archer shared aloud, knowing the struggle. It was hard. Not knowing if anything that was happening now would be even talked about then. There was no way or really knowing what anything would be like then. They wouldn’t live that long. “It’s not gonna happen Clint. Growin’ up if this is what someone told me the future was gonna be I wouldn’t have believed them. I was expectin’ flyin’ cars by now.”

archeryandcoffee

“Not those kinda of flyin’ people. Like flyin’ jet packs. Somethin’ all people could have,” he points out, knowing that Sam could fly but that was a special case. It was a specific program that Sam had been a part of to get those wings, to get himself to be the falcon. “His father created a flyin’ car… so should he. Why hasn’t he?”

“Hmmm, Starks kind of on the thing with jet packs isn’t he? Struggles with those repulsors though, not entirely sure we’re ready for that yet if he can’t master it.” Clint moved to sit on the counter, crossing his legs as he did so. If Natasha was there she tended to swat at him with a newspaper but it was just the two of them. “He probably has. Same problem though no? Stark’s a genius, but he’s obviously selfish with his iron man technology. Probably a good thing too, the world doesn’t need that shit yet.”

“You’re hot when you’re angry”

James’ eyes flashed towards Clint and he shook his head. “Seriously Clint?” he asked in a somewhat frustrated tone. “Ya wanna try to hit on me now of all times? I do not look hot. I look like I’m gonna kill someone cause I am.” The anger in his voice was starting to bubble up. It was noticeable. Completely noticeable actually.

archeryandcoffee

“Yeah, I wouldn’t hesitate ta harm that face in anger,” he answered, deciding to not put himself in a shit spot by agreeing that Clint had a pretty face. Of course Clint did but there was no way he was admitting it now and while he was fuming like this. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay. I just gotta go punch some stuff.”

“Bet you’d feel bad afterwards.” Clint replied, rolling his eyes a little. He gave a small nod and turned to face the front again, shutting up for the first time since they’d finished the fight and gotten into the car. If James wanted to try and calm down then he’d back off and let him.

wearing-mothers-drapes

archeryandcoffee

wearing-mothers-drapes

“Aye he can.” The god could agree to that and he shook his head chuckling as he walked along. Moving to go slip his shirt off he was going to grab bandages to wrap his fists with not wanting to hurt his knuckles since he wished to try with out his hammer some.

Glancing at Thor, Clint raised an eyebrow. Okay, training with a god was so not fair. He moved towards one of the mats in the corner, stretching himself out a little before he decided he’d try and calm himself down with yoga instead. He wanted to practice his carny moves as well as watch Thor, if he could.

“Keep sweet-talking and this could go a whole new direction.”

A chuckle passed through James’ lips at the statement because he had no doubt. He used to be really good at sweet-talking and apparently still wasn’t too shabby if he had Clint pawing at him. “A whole new direction, huh? Ya would really like that, wouldn’t ya handsome?” he joked, somewhat hoping to test which direction it would go.

archeryandcoffee

There’s a breathy laugh at that as he looks at Clint and gives a crooked smile because he can’t believe he just heard those words. “Ya wouldn’t mind kissin’ me? S’pose I wouldn’t mind kissin’ ya either. You’re real handsome,” he teases softly, not entirely answering the question that was asked of him. “If you’d like to test it by all means, test it. I don’t sweet talk just for fun, Barton.”

Clint’s ready to smack James, just to get that cocky attitude off. But in another thought it’s entirely a turn on and he bites his lip. “If I’m gonna kiss you, Barnes, I’d really prefer that you used my first name.” He breathed but didn’t give him a chance to answer before he was leaning up and pressing his lips against the other males.

"What the hell was that for!?".

“Cause I wanted ta,” James states, a smile on his lips as he walked away. His hand had just happily grabbed Clint’s as he walked past. However he wasn’t going to have any shame in it because he certainly wasn’t disappointed. “Ya know ya liked it. Don’t go gettin’ all mad. Ya flirt with me all the damn time anyways.”

archeryandcoffee

The small wait for Clint to accept felt like hours to James but he couldn’t help but smile at the yes. So much for hiding the bit of joy. “Okay! How about about tomorrow night? I’ll meet ya outside at 7pm sharp,” he suggests with a smile, then realizing it might be a bit too ambitious to attempt to do it tomorrow. However the question already left his mouth so he’d wait for Clint to turn down and suggest another day if it was too ambitious.

James was full of surprises today. Being asked on a date and tomorrow? He chewed on his bottom lip, watching the smile on James’ mouth before he followed suit. “Tomorrow sounds good, wasn’t doing nothing but aiming at a bunch of motionless targets anyhow.” He’s quiet as he steps away and brush his fingers through his hair, not sure how on earth this was going to go.

redroomballerina-deactivated201

✃

Clint fiddled with the bandages over his wrists, face downcast before the door opened. He looked up and flinched, laying his head back on the mess of pillows. His eyes were dark from lack of sleep and face pale. “Hey Nat.” Clint said softly, voice hoarse as he spoke. It had been a bad week, a bad month, a bad year. They’d lost Pietro. Clint had so many nightmares, flashbacks and in the last one he was being controlled by Loki again and he shot Pietro. He felt like he was going insane and he couldn’t even do his fucking job properly. He’d let a kid die who had so much to look forward to. What the hell was wrong with him. Swallowing a lump in his throat he looked back over at Nat with a small smile. “How are you?”

| redroomballerina |

Natasha couldn’t help a small smile at his comment. The second question very nearly reversed that effect though. Turning slightly away from him, she began to consider her answer. It was a question she had been considering for a while now and it was hard to try and understand just why, but the only explanation she had come up with was one she didn’t want to admit, she couldn’t make herself tell him so she made something up. “Fury asked me to.” It was such a terrible lie she was sure he’d be able to see through it even on pain meds, but there was no way she’d tell him.