➶ NEVER MISS

[awbro]

➶ OKAY, THIS LOOKS BAD ... #AWBRO, an independent earth-616-based clint barton ( aka hawkeye ) from marvel comics.

MCU-based blogs welcome, but content/background is exclusive to comics ( with the exception of faceless/aesthetic posts ). prose-heavy, multi-verse, multi-ship, panfandom, & oc-friendly. written by bucku, 30+. engages with writers 21+ only. graphics by calisverse.

BLOGROLL: @aliasinvestigate / @picksmusic / @queensupe / @reignthem

currently reading: thunderbolts ( 2022 )

CARRD | MEMES | affiliated with: @zimwy

[zimwy]

' they all said, not going to hurt, then they hurt anyway. '

coarsely ushered sentence structure wheels toward slavic, yet the soldier responds to a deep-seated command shivering through their core: use english in america. off pries their grip, a careful doe-legged stagger relinquishing a modicum of their cattle fear alongside a full extrication of their compatriot, their.. what was he to them? shades of maladroit in comparison to the soldier's lethal nature, the ontological evil of a hybridized weapon. sweet. he was sweet.

a shower sounded.. nice. or, rather, the abstract sensory concept of scrubbing the potent notes of iodine and morphine and saline off sounded as relieving as food, water, and sleep. a tenuous exhale to stave sparking nerves and soothe reflexive panic, james gives, a silent succumbing to desire fostered deep. they hover awkwardly center-wise his living room, false arm capturing natal in a harmless cradle. a once over concludes:

' your.. um. your clothes won't fit me. '

[awbro]

CLINT KNOWS WHAT THIS IS. the digits crushing his shirt's fibers & choking its collar up under the hollow notch of his throat are no threat, but a desperate, self-preserving response to one. all hurt anyway. surrendering shock crumples his brow, his mouth, his entire expression collapsing into one of agonizing empathy.

" i'm not like them. " it lands while the soldier is huddling away, closing in, fetal coil, around himself. prey fright still blinks, inky-pupilled, tremulous, within those dark, adrenaline star bursts for eyes. undulating, tacky-throated, clint swallows around his own words & realizes that it is a promise in its heavy, permanent way of rolling out of him.

" you're safe here. "

clint stays, half-prizes up from within the slatted couch cushions quashed haphazard from the soldier's hair-trigger panic. one hand hovers, showing itself empty, protective ; no hunter looms to stalk in these quarters. " you worried i'm too tall? heck, i've got sweatpants with a drawstring & a shirt i shrunk in the wash. we can pick you up some stuff tomorrow. or whenever you're ready. "

[castlle]

@awbro asked: i thought i told you i had this under control.

"Stop your whining. I only shot the one guy." Frank grumbled, annoyed that Clint is complaining about this. "I only stepped in because the asshole wasn't human. Unless you got powers now then I'll shut up."

[awbro]

" no shooting to kill. " clint's voice lances, sharp as his arrow's point. it's a bold stroke to make with their backs pressed up against the proverbial & literal wall.

he isn't calling the shots, just making them.

" i'm not exactly searching for another showdown between the two of us tonight, frank. "

in quick succession, clint hauls the wire to whisper against his cheek & lets his an arrow fizz away, drawing another from the quiver before it finishes its path. " might wanna stick close. this one's a smoke bomb. "

[awbro]

happy birthday to my best friend & ride or die @sunlightreverie <3!

[evrikka]

boyd holbrook as kaden • two/one (2019)

[lefthooks]

two heroes raining down upon mischief, and what follows are the cheers of civilians in the street. fear fades. the sun brightens. if there were birds, they'd surely be chirpin'. peter tosses a glazed donut to hawkeye and waves at the spectators ( the now peaceful shoppers, business owners, folks walking their fluffy dogs with colorfully decorated collars ) before departing from the scene at the sound of the first siren. those wannabees are gonna get real cozy behind bars. a raised hand invites the other into celebration, an energetic high-five. “that was awesome. you held that shot for a while.” peter tugs up the bottom of his mask to bite a chunk out of his pastry. “i don't know how you do it! what's the longest you've held the string back for? that could be one of those challenges on survivor or something.”

[awbro]

CLINT WATCHES SPIDER-MAN'S MOUTH MOVE beneath the peel of his mask, cataloguing the words muffled by a pocketed bite of doughnut. *donut stuff* his brain helpfully supplies as he sinks his teeth into the glaze-crisped rind of his own. a pouting, powdery frown works one side of his lips. " aw, no bear claws? guess it is kinda late in the morning. " he thumbs at a fleck of frosting where it's clinging to his stubble-dappled cheek before meeting peter's hand in an open clap. then, mirroring his fellow avenger, clint gives a sheepish wave at the onlookers.

hey, someone shouts. is that iron fist?

it's easier to champ at another mouthful of doughnut rather than address the crowd. " y'know, if you wanna go down the list of my greatest hits, i think we could start at one of my favorite arrows. " clint unsheathes one, twirling the label to peter. " that one's a sonic boom. packs a wallop. "

[fifthimpact]

❛ leave her out of this one , hmm .... ❜ of course that's just a signal for ' its worse than i'm letting on ' if the first response is to just leave the smaller hawk out of it entirely. a beat on her end , followed suit by thumb and index pinching at the bridge of her nose while nostrils flare up thanks to the HUFF that comes after. and , JUST LIKE THAT , help is no longer offered ; SHE'S TAKING THE REIGNS ENTIRELY.

❛ clint barton and making a mess. glad to see things haven't changed too much without me around. ❜ cue a slightly amused snort as natasha's already roaming off towards his kitchen. ❛ you do realize that your messes usually end up being my messes , right ? [ .... ] do you seriously have no ice in the freezer again ? scale of one to ten , clint. how bad is it ? the problem , not your lip. ❜

[awbro]

" I FIGURED THAT WAS JUST PART OF ... us. " trust between the two of them is an unconditional thing, born of a beginning settled on the wrong side of right & wrong & given longevity over time by an enduring pattern built up by an unwavering shoulder when it comes time to lean. any rakishness that clint tries to weave into his lopsided grin is too thin, worn through by his already near admission that if things look bad, it's because ... they are bad.

he ambles over his collection of aches & pains in their various states of bloom to paw a hand into the freezer. unearthing a bag of frozen peas, triumphant, he holds it aloft. " who needs ice when you've got one of these puppies? "

he plunks the bag against his rotator cuff, massaging into it, mulling over her question. a shrug rolls into his answer shaded with non-committal non-confession. " been worse. remember that leaked deep fake? that was only like ... an 8 at worst. this is like ... half that bad. "

[arrowmade]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎HE USED TO THINK it was easier to brush this off. the shudder of someone actually complimenting him. as if this wasn't simply what he did, what he was made to do. archery was the same as breathing.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎he hadn't been doing much breathing lately.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎“ only if i won't get in trouble for splitting some arrows. ” roy shot him back a grin. false bravado, despite entirely knowing he could and would do exactly that. the act is natural, all part of the show that came with recovery. doubly so when aforementioned recovery felt so slow.

[awbro]

in spite of the meditative time spent shaping an arrow, there is seldom a stronger satisfaction that the sensation of watching a nock splice the feathering of the one in front of it. clint rolls a hollow-spined shaft between his palms, considering, before he shags a nod chin-first. sometimes that deep-won sense of fulfillment beats out the time commitment.

" no one's getting in trouble here. " like a baton passing, he offers out the arrow, fletching first.

a beat of consideration passes, spent studying the pockmarked set of targets staggered out in front of them on the opposite side of the room. " but ... y'know, there are some other bullseyes to hit. in case they catch your eye. "

" ------ we'll just steer clear of the trick arrows. "

[mcflymemes]

WILL THEY, WON'T THEY RELATIONSHIP PROMPTS *  for the people that just won't admit they're in love!

i didn't want you to go alone.

i can't do anything without you.

could you ever imagine us together?

how long have you been sitting here?

sorry if i fall asleep on your shoulder.

you're not like everyone else.

is this a date?

you have no idea what i'd do to keep you safe.

i brought you a coffee, just the way you like it.

could you not see i was flirting?

i should get going.

you're the only one i can turn to.

they thought we were a couple.

they were playing that song the night we met.

let's cook something together.

you're special to me.

i think i'm falling in love.

when did you get here?

i missed you more than you know.

you take the umbrella. i'll be fine.

i'll come pick you up. stay right there.

you're my missing piece.

let me see the menu. we could just split something.

i deleted all my dating apps.

there's only one bed.

i won't let anything hurt you.

i'll walk you home.

you said you were hungry, so i brought you something.

there's something i've been meaning to tell you.

you smile when you're nervous.

i get it. you're not interested.

have you ever considered... us?

nothing will ever be the same.

you're the only person who understands me.

was that flirting?

it would mean a lot to me if you stayed.

do you need a hug?

it's all right. i was happy to do it.

do you remember how we met?

i'm here for you. whatever you need.

do you need a lift?

never leave me again. do you understand?

you're my best friend.

you take the bed, i'll take the couch.

maybe i'm already interested in someone.

i'm on my way over. be there in ten minutes.

i don't want to overstay my welcome.

that looks amazing on you.

i'm not going out with them anymore.

i'm just a phone call away.

yes, i was flirting with you.

keep it. you need it more than me.

it was just one kiss.

you changed everything.

you can lean on my shoulder if you want.

i hate it when you leave.

can you walk me home?

you mean so much to me.

stay right there! i'm coming! i'll help!

i'm in love with you! i've been in love with you this whole time!

maybe i could make us breakfast in the morning.

you could hold my hand if you'd like.

wish you didn't have to go.

call me when you get home? so i know you're safe?

i forgot to tell you. we broke up.

check your front door. there's something waiting for you.

you could spend the night.

we're alone now.

need a ride?

that meant a lot to me, you know.

i don't know what i'd do without you.

do you feel the same way?

you... love me?

do you want to come inside?

you deserve better than that.

here, take my jacket. it's freezing.

this song reminds me of you.

are you dating someone?

i didn't know who else to turn to.

do you really have to go?

i don't understand what you do to me.

i won't let anyone lay a hand on you.

were you flirting with me?

i hate saying goodbye.

what happened between you two, anyway?

they shouldn't talk to you like that.

all this time i've been in love with you.

i won't say anything if you don't.

i remembered your order, by the way.

they think we'd make a good couple.

guess we have to share.

i brought you soup.

did you just say i love you?

it's just us now.

i could use a hug.

you are the single most important thing in my life.

i don't know how i survived for so long without you.

we could go on a date.

i've never felt this way before.

[zimwy]

a hiccup of honest, innocuous laughter bumbles through bucky's diaphragm, disrupting his attentions, provoking a pleased dimple upon the precipice of one cheek.

' i think i could do with that, yeah. ' the brief touchdown of a thought beyond chaste feels as scalding and ripe as if it had been clint's perusing hands greedily clutching his flanks, or a sweet greeting of twinging bruises to the soothing margin of his stubbled jaw. he imagines his only hand cupping the fuzzy swath of short cropped sandy hairs at the nape of clint's neck, digits spidering his occipital bone into the lazy shag of hair.

however, with only one to ply his attention, bucky determines releasing his tender grip is par for the course. instead, he interlocks his digits with clint's bow-strung ones, a sickeningly romantic display that needled at the emollient and subdued part of bucky every harm he'd endured failed to hammer out entirely. the part of him that wanted to be loved. ' be nicer to yourself. i'll heal quick.. you don't. please? '

[awbro]

THIS TWINING OF THEIR HANDS COMES WITH a similarly tangled knot of confused emotion that cinches his stomach. to be cared for ... by bucky ... of all people is at odds with the rampant, roughshod way clint has shackled himself to lately. repelling off rooftops, shattering windows with the glass dazzling his hair & shoulders while rubying a scuff along his cheek? the edema hindering his joints is par for the course.

( what else does he have? )

still, the reverberating twang snapped around the lattice lines of his battered ribcage lands somewhere close to ... nice. it's nice to have someone to come home to, again. someone who gets it, against all the odds.

" c'mon. " clint's grin shears wide, jaw still an asperous shadow skimmed alongside bucky's own. sidestepping any conversation leading to the inherent self-destruction that comes with strapping on vest or slinging a bow across a wingspan is a safer, happier bet than where they're otherwise headed. " can't have you worrying about me. the stress'll give you wrinkles. "

" 'sides. i've got it on good authority that some people think scars are hot. "

[awbro]

@wrathbit from here.

THERE'S A TELL IN THE ACT. his big top background & all of its skilled misdirection & petty thievery lets him see beneath the showy scrim & beneath the mask. because it's peeled up, away from a pair of lips. the very fact of that exposed mouth is more meaningful than any toying timbre accompanying its words, even belies the motiveless taunt traipsing along the wiring coiled within clint's own ear.

because spider-man is allowing him to READ his meaning in each, clear enunciation. clint's callus-worn index finger tips against the purple shell of one of his hearing aids, an idle fiddle that prickles a mist of static that quickly dissipates. " you almost forgot humble there, spider-man. "

" 's something i've been a little too closely acquainted with, lately. " he's been made modest by his body, by the hubris that had hosted him, once again, in ronin's suit. a palm cozies up to the nape of his neck, a cover over his own damaged pride. he sweeps a hand along the ground to re-sheath one of his arrows into the quiver. " but, s'all right. i got the last shot ; didn't i? "

[jasposeyblog]

My acquisition of Hawkeye by Denny Fernandez

[suredid]

it had been entirely her fault his arrow ended up embedded in her butt cheek. darcy did NOT deserve flowers, not even these sad, droopy things snatched from the quick n' pick bodega she got her bacon, egg, and cheese from.

she takes them anyway, does the whole 'sniff the blossoms' thing she'd seen girls do in movies, and ends up ticking her nose on accident. her sneeze is like a shotgun blast, bursting loudly and making dads everywhere proud!

"ah fuck, sorry," at least she sneezed into the flowers and not into his face!

awkwardly she turns in a circle as she searches for where to set them down and where a tissue box is lingering. the flowers are set on a thrifted diner style table (complete with the cherry-red, sparkly vinyl booth seats! how kitschy, how very new york stump dumpster diving of her!) and she ends up lifting the hem of her shirt to dab at her nose.

gross.

darcy peers over her shoulder and scrunches her nose.

"clint, you can look at my ass. it's just a butt. i look at your butt ALL the time. but yeah, it's fine. i don't even have a scar."

[awbro]

PRIDE MIGHT BE THE ENTRY POINT TO A MORAL DOWNFALL ( & for clint barton, any shred of self-importance snowballs a minor misdemeanor into a chaotic disaster of epic proportions ), but he does host a satisfaction for his honed eye & the precision with which he can stick a projectile into a target. so ... that's why he never misses. except that one time with the satellite dish on the roof ... & when his spacial awareness went all wonky ...

still, a bracing half-grin partnered yet with the apology curving the bend of his mouth, he watches her erupt into a sneeze face-first in his sorry excuse for an olive branch. & a shoulder rolls into a shrug. " ----what're you gonna do? " the arrow buried its point in her ass & now he's here making one further out of himself.

pride goeth before the trip, stumble, & face plant, apparently.

" wait. " hooking a glance over his shoulder toward the seat of his jeans, a brow stamps high on clint's brow. " what do you mean you look at my butt all the time? " another look at his own, at hers before a dawn of recognition has him hiking his chin, averting his gaze up & away, anywhere else. futz ... futz ... futzin' ... " what's there to look at? "

[nota1one]

“ do  you  make  them  all  .  .  ?    your  arrows ,   i  mean .    where  do  you  find  the  time ? ” @awbro

[awbro]

THERE'S A SPECIFICITY TO ARCHERY -- geometry colludes with anchor weight, with wind velocity, with movement -- honing his own tools is something he can trust ( & when he can't, there's only ONE PERSON to blame ). " aw, well ... " he palms his nape, considering the veritable armory of arrows standing stalks-out, at attention in the quiver. " making 'em's the easy part. labeling on the other hand ... "

[matryochka]

‘  what  are  you  so  worried  about?  ‘        she  can  feel  the  press  of  his  palm  on  the  small  of  her  back,  guiding  her  through  crowds  of  strangers  who  pay  mind  to  their  own  life    —    most  of  them,  at  least.    judging  by  his  urgent  tone  and  fast-paced  walk,  there  is  certainly  foul  play  that makes him act out on trained senses.    a  danger  for  him,  perhaps?    ah,  wouldn't  that  just  be  a  nice  change  of  their  game    ;    tables  have  turned,  it  seems.    and  the  vile  black  widow  is  more  than  thrilled  to  see  the  result,  always  such  an  evil  character,  thriving  in  others’  demise  and  misfortune.

for  now,  she  follows  his  orders    —    pressing  her  lips  together  to  hide  the growing  sinister  smile.        ‘  are  you  sure  you  do  not  want  to  cause  a  scene  instead?    that  would  surely  work  better  than  sneaking  away  like  a  couple  of  criminals.  ‘

[awbro]

" crimin --- huh? wait, no. i mean, wait just a sec! " life under the big top, sly-ing his fingertips into someone's pocket to pry free a wallet ( & spending enough time around the dizzying art of actual magic ) primes him to the prickling sensation of a pair of eyes tracking the space between his shoulder blades. it also means that he has an uncanny knack for knowing how to hurl an easy misdirect. just like the spines of his arrows, these, too, will land smack in the middle of their target.

so, in spite of the alarm sending internal flares of panic, he keeps his voice a hissing whisper. " who said anything about being criminals? "

they mill through the throngs of people, clint's shades pulled low on the brim of his nose. he gives a shaggy smile at a stranger glancing through the crowd & ducks his chin to his chest in a bid to look anything but suspicious. " no one's gonna be looking at us so long as we keep it casual, capisce? "

" nice & cas ---- " just then, a heavily accented " bro, hey ... bro " booms out from a corner of the dense huddle meandering the sidwalk. clint's shoulders fall ; he chins upward to the heaven as if to ask why me? to whatever smiting deity is up there. " you know, i bet thor doesn't have to deal with this kind'a thing. "

[attckdog]

he mimes zipping his lips, and tossing the key. lazy grin sliding on in its wake. " secret's safe with me. i know better than to piss off a guy who has a better aim than me. " not exactly the truth. leon might as well have a full time job in pissing people off, but in this case he has no real reason to clock in.

[awbro]

clint barton is a shattered window, boarded up with tape & splints. sure, there's the odd, jagged edge. but he's only vindictive when it's needed. a low simmer buzzes the shell of his ear so clint reaches up to fiddle the piece of stark tech cozied up to his conch. the static stills & for a moment, there's only muted, cotton-stuffed calm that doesn't feel peaceful at all. " 's not me you need to worry about ... yet. sure you can hold your own, guy, but i don't like the idea of other people getting hurt 'cause of my screw-up. "

[orbuz228]