futzing hawkeye

In the long run, you only hit what you aim at

[futzyou]

last-czarnian:

“You should. Most people who start givin’ me lip that quickly don’t even get to finish their sentence.” Lobo assumed he did not need to explain why that was. His glare grew more pronounced at even a tease that he was any sort of poser. “So that’s what Earther guys do to prove they’re tough? Pfft. Jerks. I’ve trained my whole damn life to do what I do, and there ain’t nothin’ fake about me.” Gesturing over his body, he said, “Every inch of this is real. And I do mean every inch.” Mentioning the Skrulls was not exactly the best way to make Lobo any less hostile, but if she was telling the truth about killing some of them, that would help a bit. “I sure hope that’s true, ‘cause those fuckers deserve it. But then I’m hopin’ to wipe 'em all out, so if you did waste a few, that’s less for me to make suffer.” Still, hearing that made him give her just the tiniest amount of credit. Which was something. “To count as a bounty kill, yeah. But that don’t mean I don’t keep my own personal kill list. Guy’s gotta have a hobby, after all.” Did it really count as a hobby if it was also what he did for a living? Lobo could have cared less, just as he could have cared less what she called herself. As if the “best anything” on Earth was something to brag about. “Sure. Whatever you wanna be, knock yourself out." 

What, was she offended by the fact that he was looking? "Well, I do have another personal list that’s almost as lengthy as my kill list,” Lobo said, giving her a wink, “Kinda thought you’d be flattered, but hey, you Earthers are always confusin’ me.” He bristled at the dumbass nickname again, but her implying that he was too stressed was almost worth a bitter laugh. Him, too stressed? Really? Let’s see her try living with the destruction of her entire damn civilization on her conscience and see how she coped with it. “Yoga? You fuckin’ kiddin’ me, babe?” Like he was the type to sit around and try to meditate. “So you were a troublemaker, huh? Nice, but that still ain’t gonna win my approval. I gotta see you actually do somethin’ besides run your mouth.” When she suddenly took up her bow and actually said she was going with him, Lobo held up his hands. “Whoa there honey. That was not an invitation to come along. I don’t need no fraggin’ sidekick.” The thought of her tagging along was ludicrous, yet if they did start getting attacked by demons, he would be interested to see her actually try and fight them. Especially if she could not get the job done. “Let me guess, you wanna try to prove you can beat me at rackin’ up kills?” He gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Oh that’ll be the day. Ok sweetheart, I’m game. But don’t come cryin’ to me if you can’t hack it.”

Kate grinned and curtsied. “I guess I just give better lip than most,” she noted, smirking wide. He clearly had a screw or two loose, and was pretty futzing far from a hero -- but he was out here, that had to count for something, right? Besides, judging books by their cover? Not cool. Kate learned that one with Lorna. “All right there, pal, let’s cool the jets for a minute,” she said, but she laughed anyway. He was amusing, if nothing else, even if he was crude and insulted her every other word. She’d dealt with way worse. “Oh, don’t worry. She suffered,” she murmured, voice growing a little dark for a moment. She had never felt hate like that moment when she saw the Skrull version of her standing over Clint. Ready to take him down, until Kate took the impossible shot. “You ever think about, I don’t know, stamp collecting? I hear antiques are all the rage these days,” she quipped. She put a hand on her hip, and brandished her bow with the other. “Oh, honey. I am a knock-out. A knock-out who knocks motherfutzers out.” 

She laughed again, shaking her head slowly. “Buy me dinner first. You don’t get to look for free. Plus, how old even are you, bro? That might be a little bit creepy, by Earth standards,” she said, but she was smiling goodnaturedly. “”Hey, you’d be surprised about how calming it can be. And you’ve clearly got a whole rage-thing going on, which I’m sure gets exhausting,” she said, gesturing to him. She arched a brow, and notched an arrow. She aimed for a dark dot in the sky -- a demon, maybe, heading towards the sounds of their conversation. Kate took a breath, and let loose. She nodded behind him, holding up a finger. “Wait for it,” she said, and counted to three in her head. When she got to one, the demon let out a distant screech, and plummeted to the ground. “How’s that for putting my money where my mouth is?” she asked, grinning at Lobo. “Good thing I’m no one’s side kick then,” she said, a title she’d actively avoided and been saddled with anyway, considering she shared Hawkeye with Clint. But she was his protege, not his sidekick, there was a total difference. “Not everything has to be a competition, Lobey. Futz, I didn’t know toxic masculinity spread out to space already,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I’m capable, you’re capable, and two heads are usually better than one. And I gave up crying a long time ago, okay,” she added, strapping the bow to her back and heading out, moving towards the direction of demon she’d shot down. 

[futzyou]

heartcfiron:

“Or pickpockets,” Riri agreed with a laugh. It was strange, something so ordinary even being a threat in New York these days, but it was true. Pickpockets, muggers, petty thieves, they were all still out there even when the aliens and demons outshone them. Still, it was impossible not to grin at Kate’s telling of it, at the bright grin and the playful wink. Kate Bishop was a hard person not to be happy around, Riri had learned. It was beyond refreshing.

She laughed again as Kate recounted some of her best practice spots. “His espresso machine? God, that must’ve driven him crazy.” There was an undeniable sort of fondness in her tone, the kind that came without thought. It was the same tone Kate used when Clint’s name came up, Riri had noticed. She nodded as the other girl continued, thinking of all the restricted areas she’d been in that boasted breathtaking views. “I think all the best things are against the rules,” she admitted quietly. Sometimes, the best things in your life came from ‘liberating’ some material from an MIT robotics lab or reverse engineering designs you’d only seen in action on news clips. If Riri hadn’t broken the rules, if she hadn’t built Ironheart on her own, she wouldn’t have the life she had now. She wouldn’t be in here with Kate, looking at the way the sun caught the dust in the air and marveling at the odd beauty that came with abandonment. “I don’t know,” she admitted, partially because it was difficult for her to imagine a world where people didn’t know who Iron Man was and partially because it was sort of sad to think of a place like this alone for that many years. “I can picture people sitting at their desks and watching him shoot by out that window. Drinking coffee and going about their day like there’s no superhero battle going on outside. Like New Yorkers always do, y’know?” New York was resilient like that, able to pretend even the craziest stuff was ordinary. It was almost sad, in a way. You missed a lot of beauty when you became accustomed to the fantastical. Laughing at Kate’s description of office work, Riri nodded in agreement. “You’re just doing the same things day after day. You sit in the same desk, you look at the same paperwork… I don’t want that to ever be me.” 

Riri was undeniably aware of just how close Kate was to her. A centimeter closer and they’d be touching, skin making contact with skin. She was still, like she was afraid of scaring the moment away, afraid of breaking it. Things like this were more fragile than anything she messed with in the lab. In an instant, Kate’s phone vanished from Riri’s sight, replaced by her face instead. Then they were touching, Kate’s forehead on hers. Her skin was warm, soft, and the touch was so gentle. Riri’s breath came out slowly, afraid to inhale too deeply, afraid of being too loud, too present. “What?” She asked, voice just as quiet as Kate’s, as if she was afraid of scaring the moment away. And then there was a pressure on her lips, and they were kissing. Riri’s brain seemed to short circuit with the suddenness of it, breath catching in her throat. She leaned into it for a moment, returning it slowly, carefully. Then she pulled back, uncertainty clear on her face. “I don’t — I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted quietly, gesturing between them. “I’m not —- I had one friend. My whole life, I had one friend, and she was… She was wonderful, and I loved her so much, and then she was gone. And I’m afraid, I can’t…” Kate was wonderful and beautiful and present, and she was so much like Natalie. Her lips felt right against Riri’s, her laugh brought a smile to her face, but god, the idea of having that and losing it was terrifying. She’d dated in the past, but never like this. Never with someone who understood, who lived the same sort of life she did. It felt so much more dangerous, so much more frightening. It had the potential to be something real, and it had the potential to be something heartbreaking. 

Riri had one of the most enchanting laughs Kate had ever heard. It actually dazzled her for a moment, left a strange, languid sort of smile on her face as her mind wandered. She was imaging a thousand ways to make her laugh, because she never wanted to stop hearing that sound. 

Which was ridiculously dangerous -- after all, her first and last relationship with a girl had gone up in spectacular flames, and America had been just enchanting to her once. Now Kate couldn’t picture her face without her gut twisting in shame. She never wanted that to happen with Riri, but something tantalizing and intoxicating was pulsing through her veins, her heart a freight train racing along the tracks. Did she get to decide where those tracks led? “His espresso machine,” she confirmed, beaming. “I would’ve gotten away with it, if his vents were so futzing small. He was pretty cool about it,” she said, giving Riri a knowing smile. Because she understood how important Starky was -- if he meant half as much to Riri as Clint did to her, that was undeniable.  “I wouldn’t have taken you for a rebel,” she said, biting her lip to try and hide how big her grin was. But it was no use. “Very cool, very sexy,” she said, laughing a little. The tension or thrill (she couldn’t tell which) was bubbling up in her chest, and it came out as a giggle. “You’ve got a point there. I mean, I barely blinked when the Avengers rescued me, ya know? It was cool, but also like, just another day,” she said, glancing around the abandoned office. It was empty and stark, but not cold -- the sunlight filtered in through dusty windows, letting in just enough warmth and brightness to give everything a magic, ethereal quality. “Me neither,” she declared. “You’ll never catch me dead in a place like this. Except on city exploring adventures,” she added with a knowing smile flashed towards Riri.

And then they were close, and the freight train in her chest was barreling forward, and she wasn’t thinking anymore. She was just letting the feeling take her over -- for months, she’d tried hiding her emotions, believing they made her weak and stupid, but she was finally coming out of that dark, cold hole. She hadn’t expected to see someone like Riri on the other side of the tunnel, but futz she was glad she was there. Kate kissed her, not holding anything back. Poured herself into it, her hands on Riri’s hips, but then Riri was pulling back. Kate didn’t let go, but she gave their lips some space, breathing heavily. “Hey, hey it’s okay,” she said gently. “I’m new to this whole thing, too, I promise. The one girlfriend I’d ever had, she wound up dimension-hopping to break up with me.” She moved one hand to cup Riri’s face again, tilting her chin upwards. “What are you afraid of?” she asked quietly. “Are you afraid of this?” She leaned in, placed a single, soft, chaste kiss against her lips. “Or are you afraid it will disappear? Because they keep trying to get rid of me, Ri, and I keep sticking around. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever this is, whatever you want it to be, I’m here for you, okay?” She smiled softly, moved a hand to that gorgeous hair and ran a hand through it, just in case it was her only chance. “You wanna tell me more about that friend of yours?”

[futzyou]

gcttagofcst:

The issue with the Brotherhood, the one mountain that Pietro couldn’t clear without thinking about it a little more intently, was the fact that he had truly believed he was doing the right thing. When he gradually began to realise that there was something amiss he had continued to fight, at least until, as she always had, his sister showed him the way back to the light. At the beginning, though, there had been no question in Pietro’s mind that he had been converting to the side that would fit him the most appropriately.

He knew that the Brotherhood had done bad things, that they were considered terrorists, but one man’s terrorist was another man’s freedom fighter. The humans constantly rewrote mutant history in order to make those more powerful than they were seem small, they discriminated against them to keep them down and assuage their own fear, and so what was Pietro to do besides listening to what the leader himself had to say, and figure it out for himself? The Brotherhood was his birthright, it was his legacy, and if he hadn’t explored it, he would’ve spent his entire life wondering whether that was who he was meant to be, who he was destined to be.

Now Pietro knew that he could make his own choices. Other people might not see it that way, may never be able to forgive him for the things that he had done, but he had to try. He had made friends in the Avengers, and he hadn’t appreciated them then, but he definitely did now. He missed them now. “That the only reason?” Pietro asked, even though he was pretty sure he had no right to question Kate’s decisions now, of all times. Pietro nodded, moving over to the wood, sorting out the kindling before setting the fire alight. All he had to do was place two pieces of wood together and allow his hands to vibrate, and a flame was flickering. “Force of habit,” he said, in regards to his dismissal of the lighter. “I still don’t care about hurting bad people,” Pietro said, pushing himself up from in front of the fire, turning to look at Kate even though he felt the shame tie in his chest. “I still don’t care about killing bad people. But that wasn’t what I was doing. I was fighting against good people. I was sending a message, more than anything. It – it wasn’t what a hero should do. What someone should aspire to do.”

This life was far from easy. They all knew that, no matter how they got into it. Whether they were thrown in, whether it seemed like the only option -- at some point, they’d made a choice. To step up and be heroes, to deal with the pressure and the pain and the tragedy that inevitably followed. To deal with making even harder choices. Every hero was a little bit different, but to Kate, if you had a good heart and your head on mostly straight, that’s what mattered. 

Maybe she was wrong. Maybe there were lines, maybe they needed someone to make some rules -- but Registration hadn’t been the way to do it, and Doom’s list wasn’t the way, so what was left? Policing each other? That was one fight she didn’t want to get into. It’d been easier to just walk away from Pietro, to let him follow his misguided path -- but maybe that wasn’t the responsible choice. The problem was, every hero she’d ever met was just a person. A person capable of making huge mistakes, of hurting people, of being wrong. But a person could only be responsible for so much, could only stop so much, could only do so much. 

She didn’t know what she could do for Pietro. She couldn’t make him feel better, couldn’t forgive him for what he did, just like he couldn’t forgive her for that Syndicate member. She ignored his question, folding her legs up under her and resting her elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. “Guess rubbing two sticks together really works,” she noted, just staring at him for a long moment. “I think about that a lot, ya know? What is a hero? What messages should we send? Like, Starky and Cap, during Registration -- neither of them were wrong, both their messages had a point. But where’s the line? Maybe killing bad people makes you just as bad, maybe it doesn’t. I don’t know, Pietro. I’m just a girl with a bow,” she murmured, sighing a little. “I still don’t get what changed. Why now, sonic? Because -- no offense -- you tend to be a little impulsive. And this is a big choice, this defines you. So you can’t just rush into it, ya know? You’ve gotta make the choice, about what kind of hero you want to be, and no one can make it for you.” 

[futzyou]

spoiledsteph:

Steph grinned back. Starting over was beginning to feel a little worth it. She took Gotham for granted a lot—knowing the people, knowing the streets, knowing how the city ticked, and so on. Settling somewhere new was hard, but at least she made somebody laugh. 

“If they don’t have any, we’d better go buy some,” she suggested, conspiratorial. “Let’s bring some real Americana into this joint.” That would’ve cozened everybody up to President Doom a lot faster. “Red solo cups and football should really do the trick.” What team did they like in New York City, anyway? The Jets or the Giants?

She laughed, pleased, and took the girl’s arm. Steph was a pretty confident dancer. This and a waffle eating contest made her a shoo-in to an easy victory. “Winner buys the other a drink?” She mused as they moved through the crowd. “Unless it’s open, which is a win-win.”

Kate was used to parties. She liked them, liked how everyone seemed a little more at ease, even if they were wearing fake smiles and trying desperately to put their best foot forward. At least, that’s how it was at her father’s parties. This one... the air seemed different. People were excited, sure, but there was an apprehension too. An anxiety in every shadow, and Kate was eager to chase it away however she could.

A pretty stranger with jokes? That was a great distraction. “Definitely. I’ll get the cups, you get a dozen red, white, and blue footballs, and we’ll really spice this place up,” she said, laughing loudly again. 

“I’m pretty sure everything’s free tonight,” she said, swinging them both onto the floor. “But that doesn’t mean I’m gonna go easy on you. We dance for honor and glory!” 

[futzyou]

daemonlegacy:

his nose scrunches up in distaste, the memory of richard attempting to integrate spray cheese into his life at one point a deplorable impression he’d rather forget, the flavor of it haunting him even to this day. he has richard to thank for initiating him into many things, many customs and assimilation damian hadn’t been fully aware of before in this country, but a few of them refused to stick, much to his adopted brother’s obvious disappointment. watching trashy, spin television shows is another example. “spray cheese isn’t even real cheese! how can anyone like that stuff?” he wants to shudder but restrains himself to simple sighing.

“i don’t dance.” he maintains his towering, immobile form, stiff as a mountain, chipped as a cliff face, his structure as rigid as the desert of his enthusiasm. “at least– i don’t dance the way you people dance, this weird club meshing like you’re all on fire or something.” perhaps that’s the reason people often get drunk in clubs, so they can stand the annoyance of themselves trying to sway violently on the dance floor, neither things he’s particularly very interested in, despite having almost sipped at a glass of champagne a little while ago. “kopi luwak is a type of coffee made from partly digested berries defecated by the asian palm civet cat. in short, it’s cat feces– considered a delicacy too, just like your spray cheese, and just like spray cheese, it’s disgusting.”

Kate’s mouth dropped open, and she shook her head slowly. “Bro,” she said, giving him a long look. “That’s the whole point of spray cheese. It tastes good, not because its real, but because it is so deliciously pretend. Plus, it’s probably super bad for you, which makes it the ultimate cheat food,” she quipped, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

She turned to him now, and set her drink down, holding out both hands. “Everyone dances,” she said simply. A smirk played on her lips. “Do you waltz? Foxtrot? Ballroom? I’ve taken all the classes, might as well get some use out of them. I can even lead if you really need me to,” she teased gently. She was a Bishop after all, like it or not. They had certain expectations to meet, and she’d enjoyed learning to dance really. “All right, that’s just insulting. Spray cheese is pretend, tasty goodness. You’re talking about literal poop. There’s totally a difference!” 

[futzyou]

spidcrgwens: 

It was nice, being able to take some time to relax in the chaos of it all. New York was in shambles once again, the world was uncertain and scary, but right now, Gwen didn’t mind it much. She got to spend some time with Kate, got to hang out with her and discuss random topics that meant nothing at the end of the day, and that was a relief. “That’s probably a good theory. Some people do some suuuper fucked up shit for money.” She’d seen too much of that back in her world, seen awful people do awful things in the name of making a couple extra bucks.

Nodding, Gwen hoped she looked more certain than she felt. In the beginning of her superhero stint, she’d been an optimist. She’d figured she could fight crime and have fun doing it, thought no one could possibly get hurt for real. Then, of course, came Peter. She fought him with everything she had, anger burning through every inch of her body, and it was only when he’d died in her arms that she realized what she’d done. The world was a dark, awful place, and while 616 seemed a lot lighter than her own dimension, they weren’t there anymore. They were somewhere else, somewhere awful, and there was no real guarantee that they’d ever get back. Still, for Kate, Gwen could hold on to some of that optimism. She could pretend she truly believed they’d get home eventually. She could do that. “You know I am,” she replied with a laugh. “You know, you do have some pretty cool friends,” she agreed with a grin.

“You’ve mentioned it, but I won’t say no to hearing it again.” Gwen had gotten astronomically lucky to have as many friends as she did in this universe, and she was well aware of it. She wasn’t sure what it said about her that she likely had more people who cared for her here than she did in her own universe, but she didn’t think it mattered much. At the end of the day, she had one hell of a support system, and that was all she could really ask for. She was going to do everything in her power to make sure Kate had one, too. She deserved that. “I know,” she smiled, nodding her head. “Ugh, I’m so not asking Johnny for help. Can you imagine how insufferable he’d be after that?” She tilted her head at Kate’s pause, brow furrowing over the serious expression that sprung onto her friend’s face. When she spoke, confusion turned to surprise. “Wait, are you serious? Are you asking me…?” She trailed off, letting the end of the sentence hang uncertainly. 

“Well, they say money is power, and power corrupts. So it’s really not that surprising,” she said, shrugging it off. Her father had refused to pay a ransom for her before. She knew intimately how futzed up money could make a person, how it could twist your priorities. Her own wealth was a fact she wished she could forget, but to deny how much privilege she had -- that felt wrong, too.

Without her wealth, the Young Avengers would still be running around in bad pajama-like excuses for costumes, and maybe they never would’ve gotten off the ground. But they wouldn’t have gotten far without the passion and determination from each and every member either. In the beginning, they’d all been fighting for different reasons, but that didn’t matter. They fought together, regardless. “The best,” Kate agreed, beaming, and finishing off the last of her ice cream cone.

She brushed her hands off on her lap, and giggled. “I’ll remind you bi-weekly,” she promised. It was hard to forget the trouble they were in, but Kate always remembered how lucky she was in spite of it all. She had her friends, her real family, and she would do everything she could to protect that. That’s what she fought for. That’s all she really needed. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “He’d only rub it in for about three years or so, that’s not too long,” she quipped. She watched Gwen carefully, nodding slowly as the idea planted itself in her brain. “I’m asking if you wanna be a Young Avenger,” she said, still grinning. “Because we’d be a hell of a lot better off with you on board. I know we would.” She shrugged again. “I mean, you’ve basically been an honorary member in my head for like, a year. This just makes it official, ya know? If you want it.”

[futzyou]

mistresscfmagnetism:

“It does make me feel like a kid again.” If not for the reason behind the curfew, it might be a little nice, living in the nostalgia. Lorna’s life had been a lot simpler as a teenager, when her biggest worries were getting home before curfew. Nowadays her issues were more of the ‘life-shattering, world-ending’ variety. It made her miss high school in a way she’d never really thought possible!

Lorna wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but the smile came as a surprise. The night she’d met the archer seemed like a million years ago now, but she remembered it hadn’t exactly gone great. She’d been angry at the sight of someone pointing a weapon at a young mutant whose only crime was not knowing how to use their abilities, and she’d definitely let that anger get the better of her. This girl seemed willing to look passed it, and Lorna figured she could try to do the same. Hesitantly, she replied, “Lorna.” She allowed a small smile to slip onto her features, a sign that she really was trying. “Well, I guess I can relate to that. I’ve been going through some stuff of my own lately.” Every hero seemed to take a turn at something like that, so she guessed it was an understandable excuse. The fact of the matter was that no one had gotten hurt. That was the important thing. “I could go for a dance,” she agreed with a smile.

“Tell me about it,” Kate said, grinning a little. Being a kid, that wasn’t a feeling she didn’t think she’d ever miss, but there was something a little tempting about it. Maybe she was finally getting old, because it seemed romantically carefree. Of course it never had been in reality, but it was a nice dream.

Their first meeting was far from pleasant -- it was more than a little unnerving seeing her own arrows pointed back at her face. But Kate had been so desperate to prove herself then, so eager to prove she was a hero that she forgot what being a hero was. “That’s a nice name,” she said, smiling gently. “You were right to stop me. I mean, don’t count on ever hearing me admit that again, but yeah,” she shrugged. “Oh, I’ll take you for a dance,” she teased, twirling onto the dance floor, grinning widely. “Let’s see what you got, Lorna!” 

[futzyou]

dcvilkid:

[ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] but i’m already in bed and comfyyyyyy [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] can you owe me one tomorrow instead?? [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] i’m suddenly filled with existential dread. just because that sounds like the kind of sentence that ought to worry me. [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] nobody who calls me darling has good intentions ever [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] don’t pirate my book kate i need to make rent [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] not like whatever you’re picturing! just like. shaved! [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] idk naked kittens worry me.

(✉ → reddie eddie): you are so un-fun. but yeah, im kinda already in bed too XD (✉ → reddie eddie): tomorrow it is! im holding you to that!! (✉ → reddie eddie): excuse me, my designs are not full of dread. they are full of hope, bravery, boldness -- all good things, i might add! you’ll look awesome, bro, totally awesome (✉ → reddie eddie): would you prefer ‘buddy boy?’ or like, ‘pal?’ i was channeling edna mode, you see.  (✉ → reddie eddie): well maybe if you sign a copy for me :P  (✉ → reddie eddie): you’re the one that said it!!!  (✉ → reddie eddie): picture them in tiny adorable sweaters, problem solved 

[futzyou]

spoiledsteph:

New York City was Metropolis and Gotham’s lovechild, Steph was pretty sure. It had a layer of Gotham’s glamor and history, but plenty of Metropolis’ sparking sheen, too. Even the people acted and spoke like someone whipped up both places in a blender. Big Apple Kool-Aid, Steph had started to think of it, seeing similarities everywhere. “The only thing missing is the red solo cups,” Steph joked, peering around. The decorations probably cost more than her old place back home—back in Gotham. She whistled under her breath when a server walked by the caviar. Actual caviar! “Think they have any hot dogs or burgers in the kitchen?” She asked, returning her attention to the conversation. “Then we’ll know it’s a party.”

“Hope you have the moves,” Steph added, looking the other girl up and down with feigned haughtiness. Steph needed some fun. “I always bring my A-game on the dance floor.”

Kate laughed, long and bright, so loud it made a few people turn their heads. But everyone was in a good mood, most people just smiled back at her. A few laughed before turning back to their own conversations. “I can’t believe I left out the red solo cups,” she said, throwing a hand on her forehead, the caricature of dramatic. “Lucky you showed up to set me straight,” she quipped, grinning at the stranger. “If they don’t have hot dogs or burgers, then I’m boycotting. And taking back everything I just said, honestly.”

She arched a brow, and smirked playfully. “Girl, that right there is a challenge. A challenge worthy of skipping the shrimp and heading straight to the dance floor,” she said, holding out her arm. “May I have this A-game dance, m’lady?” she joked. 

[futzyou]

pctriot:

Ultimately he knows what could have been doesn’t matter–there are always going to be a thousand ways his life could have gone, a thousand choices he could have made differently–but he’ll take Kate Bishop in his life in any way he can have it, on any plane of the universe, and that’s proven when she tells him to shut up in his own apartment like he’s an idiot for even suggesting that he could take the couch. Maybe he is an idiot, but he’s convinced in that moment that there are of a hell of a lot worse things to be an idiot for. 

He’s forced to roll his eyes fondly internally, because he hadn’t even noticed that her shoulder was out of socket–he’d been so concerned about those claws coming for him and the aftermath–and that’s exactly the kind of thing a good teammate and friend (he emphasizes those distinctions in his mind, some kind of reminder or maybe guidelines for how he should act, how a not boyfriend behaves) should notice. “I’m more than capable of stitching it up–” He says distractedly and looks at her shoulder with concern, clenching his teeth together and inhaling through them. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you, but your shoulder is gonna hurt. Like, probably about as bad as this does.” He gestures to the cuts on his chest before putting his hands gently on her shoulder. He steadies his breathing, tries to keep his tone easy. “Tell me about–Lucky’s favorite kind of pizza.” 

He puts the bone back in place and exhales–he’s never been more grateful for the serum than in that moment. “Put that ice on that, and I’ll be right back,” He says before disappearing into his apartment for a beat, returning with a first aide kit balanced on top of sheets and blankets. It’s achingly normal in a way that speaks to a time before lists and demons, when they were just trying to be taken seriously by the heroes around them and getting to fights above their heads. He smiles warmly, chuckles. He doesn’t want to talk about any of that right now–they did their Young Avengers duties for the rest of tonight. “Did you know Tommy has a pet pig? I’m legitimately scared of what else is in his apartment.” 

Eli was a lot of things, but he wasn’t really an idiot. It was a term of endearment, one Kate only reserved for the people she genuinely cared about. And like they said in Harry Potter, there were some things you couldn't share without ending up liking each other. Being a superhero, trying desperately to prove you could save the world even if you were still in high school, facing the enemies and going through the futz they had -- that was one of them. They’d been on the road to friendship ever since they all decided to stand up and fight for what was right. 

She recognized that look, and immediately waved him off with one hand and a stern(ish) glare. “You’re very capable. And you’ve also lost a lot of blood, so I’m just saying, maybe my hands are a little steadier,” she said, pointing at him with her good hand. She paused, furrowing her brow. “Okay, technically speaking, my one hand is steadier right now.” She sighed a little, and grit her teeth. “Gonna hurt like futz, honestly,” she said, turning her bad shoulder towards him. “But I’ve had worse. Totally,” she said, flashing a smirk at him to try and calm his worry. (Fat chance of that happening -- he thought he was so tough, but his heart was on his sleeve if you knew where to look.) 

“Lucky’s favorite pizza?” Kate laughed, a little breathlessly. “That’s every kind of pizza. C’mon, Eli, you know th--” She stopped, inhaling sharply as he popped the bone back in. She’d done this before, but it never got any easier. It still hurt, a sharp, searing burn, every futzing time. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, when she could breathe again. She moved to his kitchen, grabbed an ice pack (they all kept a few on hand, just in case), and met him back in the living room. “I heard,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “It’s got the craziest name, but I can’t remember it. I don’t think I’ll be stopping over for a visit anytime soon,” she said, laughing lightly. She sat down, nodding for him to sit with her, and set the ice pack in her lap while she reached for the first aid kit. “Better take that shirt off,” she said, as casually as she could. Like there was no history there to make things... complicated. “This is pretty well stocked, I’m impressed,” she said, rummaging through the kit until she had everything she needed. “You ready to get started on this?” 

[futzyou]

spidcrgwens:

It was clear what Kate was ow-ing about, and Gwen let out an unfortunate snort that lead to the ice cream in her mouth finding an exit through her nose. Talk about instant karma. “Clearly,” she agreed once she’d recovered from the ordeal. “That really is a good question. You’d think someone would’ve gotten on it by now. God, think of how rich they’d be!” Was she seriously considering throwing herself into an effort to reduce brain freeze? Maybe! Who could blame her? Being rich would solve a lot of her problems!

She hadn’t realized how much she missed this sort of thing until just now, hadn’t realized how desperately she’d needed time spent with her friend until she was here. “It’s gotta end sometime, right? Maybe we’re over the hill of it now.” There was a cautious sort of optimism in her tone, though Gwen wasn’t sure she believed it for a second. She had a feeling things would get worse before they got better. In New York, they usually did. “I believe it. I don’t know all of them, but the ones I do know are pretty great,” she smiled, nudging Kate’s shoulder with her own. Kate and MJ were two of the best people she knew, and while she still had a lot of confusion regarding Cassie, there was no confusion about what sort of person the other girl was.

Kate seemed to consider the question for longer than she might have before, and for a moment, Gwen wondered if she’d made a mistake in asking it. But then Kate answered, and she was smiling, and that was something. “Good,” she smiled. “I’m glad you’re all right. If you ever want to talk, I’m here for you. You know that, right?” Maybe she hadn’t been the best friend in the past, maybe she should have realized Kate wasn’t herself long before she did, but she couldn’t change that now. All she could do was be here. “They really attacked during movie night! We’re okay, but I think I might need to throw out the shirt I was wearing. Demon slime so doesn’t come off in the wash.”

Kate laughed -- at the absurdity of it all. Here they were, trapped in an alternate dimension, demons attacking the streets, heroes being tapped to gather up whatever resources they could find, and yet her biggest complaint at the moment was a fleeting headache. It felt good, because it felt normal. “Super rich. Richer than the guy who made ice cream probably,” she quipped. “Course, a friend and I have this theory that having too much money means giving up your soul, so maybe that’s why no one’s tried it,” she mused, giggling a little. 

Laughing. It felt good to laugh, and Kate was trying to do it as often as possible. Like she was spitting in the face of this whole futzing dimension, proving it wouldn’t break her down. (She hoped -- it wasn’t like she was made of steel. Time had proven that much.) “You think?” she asked, and a part of her believed Gwen. Or maybe just wanted to believe her, which amounted to almost the same thing. “Ooh, are you talking about lil’ ol’ me?” Kate teased, laughing again when Gwen nudged her shoulder. “If so, you’re two-hundred percent correct -- course, that’s mostly because I have some of the coolest friends ever,” she said, lobbing the compliments right back along with her own shoulder nudge. 

It wasn’t a lie, what she told Gwen. She had her bow, she had her team, she had her dog, and she had Clint. What more did a girl need? Maybe these new resources would mean they’d have coffee a little while longer, too. “I know,” she said, smiling gently. “I’ve got a lot of people I can talk to, and a lot of really awesome friends. I’ve mentioned that right? Just like I’ve mentioned you’re one of them?” She beamed at Gwen, finishing the last of her ice cream cone and swiping at her lips with a napkin. “You know that goes both ways, right? Just for the record,” she said casually. She shook her head. “That is un-futzing-believable. Just burn it. Ooh, maybe demon blood will make the flames look super cool, you should ask Johnny to help,” she said, giggling a little. She paused a second, then glanced up to meet Gwen’s gaze. “You know,” she started. “There’s always room on the team for a few more totally awesome people. Maybe next time movie night gets crashed, you can call on a few teammates to help save your t-shirts from slimezillas.” 

[futzyou]

mistresscfmagnetism:

Taking a sip of her drink, Lorna nodded in agreement. “Anything’s better than curfew,” she replied. It was one of the worst things about their current situation, almost more irritating than the demons themselves. Lorna was someone who loved her freedom, and considering the secret about her father’s identity that she was struggling to keep in a house full of telepaths, being forced to spend most of her time in the mansion wasn’t exactly great. 

When the other woman turned to face her completely, giving Lorna a good look at her face for the first time since the start of their conversation, Lorna faltered. Suddenly, she remembered where she knew the stranger from. “I guess it is,” she agreed cautiously. Pointing a vigilante’s own arrows in her direction hadn’t been her most shining moment, but from where Lorna had been standing, the archer had been attacking a young mutant, and she’d never been great at controlling her anger. Probably something she got from her father, she knew now. For a moment, she and the archer stared at one another, and Lorna wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Then, the girl spoke, and Lorna’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Okay,” she said defensively, “to be fair, I still think you kind of deserved it a little. I wasn’t actually gonna shoot you with the arrow or anything.” She raised a brow, shrugging her shoulder. “But you’re right. What’s done is done, and I do kind of wanna dance. You in?”

“I know, right?” Kate chirped. “I thought I was done with curfews when I moved out of my parents’ house. I didn’t expect the government to start imposing them, too!” Not that she ever followed curfew anyway -- it was the principle of the thing. 

She could tell that this wasn’t easy for either of them, but Kate just smiled gently at the girl. They hadn’t met under great circumstances, but they had managed to avoid actually fighting each other. That had to count for something, right? “I never did get your name,” Kate said casually. “Or maybe I was too grumpy to catch it. I’m Kate,” she said, smiling bright. She was good at navigating awkward social interactions, her upbringing was good for something after all. “I probably did. I was dealing with a whole bunch of stupid futz, and trying to get back in the swing of things -- hey, no one’s perfect,” she shrugged. “But that’s good to know. And since you didn’t put any holes in my outfit, I say we’re square. We’ll seal it with a dance,” she declared, leading the way to the dance floor. “I never pass up an opportunity to dance, darling.” 

[futzyou]

quecnofcrime:

“Probably relatively normal,” Felicia replied. She hadn’t wasted time considering how Earth was faring without New York City, but realistically, the economy would have taken a big hit. Wall Street was a major cog in the wheel and without it, inevitably things would begin to deteriorate. Rather than say that to Kate, however, Felicia continued on the easier response. “People are resilient and I think everyone would realize pretty quick that we need to help ourselves. Life has to go on, right?” It was a very narrow-minded response, but also realistic in a sense. There was no choice but to carry on when disaster struck, and luckily, humans were resilient. “Fair point,” she agreed with a nod. “Aw, that’s great! Your mansion is beautiful and Mariah is incredible,” she replied with a smile. Felicia’s home was a spacious, luxury apartment, but her parents had preferred larger homes. “I’ll even supply the champagne,” she promised with a grin. “Maybe I should throw a party soon… what do you think?” She hadn’t for a long, long time, but Felicia had a reputation to uphold. “If you say so,” she replied, allowing the subject to drop. It was clear that Kate had no interest in discussing her experiences at length and Felicia was incapable of forcing her. “I’m glad you’re better than ever,” she replied honestly. “And you definitely look better than ever,” Felicia added, winking. Rather than discuss her recent thefts, information no one was partial to, Felicia easily settled into her everyday persona for ‘story time.’ “I had a mutant with four arms ask me to sleep with him a few days ago,” she told Kate with a laugh. “I was honestly tempted. Can you imagine what would happen with those?”

“Do you think -- like, whoever did this, brought us here, did they make an alternate New York? Or is there just this huge futzing hole in the world?” Maybe some people were happy to see the city gone. After all, it was a major target, a magnet for trouble that had only grown more serious as the years went on. The heroes got stronger, but so did the bad guys. A never-ending race with no real end in sight. “Guess that’s all we can do,” she said, shaking her head a little, forcing herself to smile and let it go. There was no point worrying about what was back there, on the real Earth. They couldn’t change things, they could only deal with the problems in front of them, one day at a time. “It’s all right,” she said, shrugging. She’d never really felt comfortable there, never felt like herself. It was only after leaving that she really could breathe. ”But it’s a hell of a practice arena. I’m enjoying putting holes into the walls,” she quipped, miming shooting an arrow. It was nothing compared to what Tommy or Cassie could do, but it certainly made her feel better. “That better not be an empty promise!” she said, giggling a little. “A party would be awesome,” she agreed. “I mean, if you can. Even with these resources, it might be tight, ya know? But it’d be way more fun than Doom’s little party the other night, that's for sure,” she muttered. She shook off that thought too -- sometimes, it was good to have a part of her life that wasn’t wrapped up in super-stuff. “Why thank you. I’ve got a new shampoo,” she joked, tossing her hair back. “Course, I’m basically a two standing next to this,” she said, gesturing to Felicia with a grin. Her eyes went wide, and she laughed brightly. “Was he cute? I mean, if he was cute, you totally should’ve tried it. Just to see. I can think of a lot of possibilities there.” 

[futzyou]

gcttagofcst:

Pietro had never asked for forgiveness before. He had never begged someone to understand where he was coming from, either, or asked them to stay, or fallen in love with someone so hard that losing her came damn close to breaking him. Living in Sokovia, being Hydra’s pawn, moving between states in Eastern Europe until the Avengers burst in with their genocidal robot and their city-lifting escapades meant that by the time Pietro made his mistakes and realised the need to apologise for them, the person that he had betrayed, the people that he had hurt, were dead. Dead or gone, never to see him again, vanished into the night because that was the only way that they could survive.

Relationships like what he had in America, relationships that were to exist and last for the foreseeable future, were something that were novel for him to navigate, and he knew thus far he was doing an absolutely terrible job. He had abandoned the Avengers, his sister, his family for a man that was his by blood, but had done unforgivable things. He had left without remorse, it had taken weeks for him to realise what he was doing was something worth being ashamed about, and even when he did, it had taken fighting against his sister for him to truly be able to leave the Brotherhood’s ranks. Pietro wasn’t strong. He wasn’t a hero. He was just a man with extraordinary abilities, but even those paled in comparison to the integrity, the goodness, that other heroes showed on a daily basis.

Kate wasn’t telling him all of that, though. She wasn’t pushing him back out the door. She didn’t have an arrow notched, pointing at his head. “Fair enough,” Pietro muttered, about to walk away from the door, not having expected anything different. Then, Kate surprised him, in a way that she typically managed to, and stepped back. Pietro raised an eyebrow, but made a conscious decision to move slowly past her into her place. “It’s a lot bigger than the trailer,” he commented. “I wasn’t sure whether to believe the rumours you were here or not.” It was an opening, but he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t want to discuss whatever it was that had her moving, especially not with him. “I can make the fire,” Pietro offered, needing something to do with his hands, his legs, his body. It felt like he was about to vibrate out of his skin. “It’s not a story I’m proud of. I have hurt a lot of people, these past few months.” It seemed, sometimes, all he was capable of doing.

Kate had made a lot of mistakes in her life. Some of them just as willfully as Pietro made his. She’d chosen to go after that Skrull alone. She’d chosen to leave Clint for all those months. And she’d chosen to kill that Syndicate member. It was the choices that mattered, and Kate knew making the wrong ones could eat you up inside. Hollow you out until there was nothing left but shame. 

Looking at Pietro now, that’s what she saw. Shame, guilt, regret. Remorse. She didn’t know how it happened, she hadn’t been keeping tabs on him. When she walked away, she walked away hard, and she knew there was no way to chase him down the path he’d chosen. He had to choose to come back on his own, or else it wouldn’t mean anything. She hoped he would, believed he would -- after all, Pietro had a good heart in his chest. If he ever slowed down to think, he might even realize that. 

She couldn’t very well turn him away, not when he’d done so much for her in the past. Without him, she might still be stuck in that rut, that quicksand-like thinking that pulled her deeper and deeper into shame and dark thoughts. Pietro had made her face it head on, instead of closing her eyes and letting it swallow her whole. She hadn’t forgotten that. Never would. 

He moved past her slowly, like he was afraid he might spook her, scare her off from listening. But Kate just casually strode into the den, flopped down on one of the expensive couches like it was any other day. “Well, it’s not exactly my style,” she said, making a face at the overtly pretentious decorating scheme, the thousand-dollar artwork on the walls, the sofas designed to be viewed, not sat on. She deliberately put her feet on them now, shoes and all. “But it was empty, so I figured, why let it go to waste? It’s a decent headquarters.” The Young Avengers needed their own space, to train, to define themselves. So much of them was wrapped up in other, older heroes, but it was time for them to grow and come into their own. “Wood’s over there,” she said, pointing to it. “And there’s a lighter somewhere on the mantle.” She watched him as he moved, the nerves clear, the shame tying knots in his stomach that even she could feel. “If you were proud of it, you wouldn’t be here,” she said gently. “So maybe that’s a good thing. But last time we talked...” She trailed off, sighing softly, shaking her head. “You didn’t seem to care about hurting people. So what changed?” 

[futzyou]

heartcfiron:

Kate was someone that, as far as Riri was concerned, was impossible not to like. She lit up every room she entered, was bright and happy and excited even when the world gave her little reason to be. She was relaxed in the sort of way that had never really come naturally to Riri, the way that seemed impossible to achieve, and Kate made it look easy. She made a lot of things look easy. And, best of all, she looked at Riri like she was the one who was incredible, like she was the one who drew your eyes in when she knew she was anything but.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine they do much good against, like, Thor or the Hulk.” She grinned brightly as the chains came off. Maybe locks like this were New York’s desperate attempt to cling to normalcy, its stubborn refusal to admit that the world wasn’t the sort of place where locks and chains did anyone any good anymore. “What kind of stuff do you practice on?” There was an undeniable curiosity to her voice, one that was always present but a bit more persistent when the question was one she really wanted to know. She glanced around the building, finding she wanted to know more about it, too. It felt a lot more mysterious in the dark than it would have had the lights been functional. With the lights on, it would have been mundane and boring, but with them off? It was a mystery. “I wonder how long it’s been like this.” There were a million different things that could have driven it to abandonment, from the everyday possibilities of the owners’ lack of ability to pay the rent or a decision to move to another location to the more fantastical, New York style answers of alien invasions or demon attacks. “I bet it was miserable,” she mused, running a finger across a dusty desk. “Office work seems so… I just don’t think I could ever do it.” She needed simulation that couldn’t exist in a setting like this one, needed to feel tools under her hands.

Blinking, Riri stilled at Kate’s command. She wasn’t sure why she needed to keep still, but she trusted the other girl enough to do so unquestioningly when asked. The quiet clicking of the phone’s camera answered her unasked question, and she smiled as she leaned in to look at the picture. She could feel the warmth of Kate’s breath on her cheek, and her heart pounded in her chest in a way that was a little unfamiliar. Her face felt warm at the compliment, the sort of warmth that came along with a blush that would be invisible in the darkness of the building, and she smiled. “So are you,” she said quietly, voice almost a whisper.

“Or pickpockets,” Kate said, waggling her fingers and grinning mischievously at Riri. She even punctuated it with a little wink, playful and over the top. Maybe she was showing off, just a little, but she couldn’t help it. Riri was a bonafide genius, one of the fastest-rising heroes Kate had ever seen -- it was like there was nothing she couldn’t do. She took to engineering and superheroism like a fish to water. No, like a bird to the sky. Because Kate knew, whether she was in the suit or not, that girl was gonna touch the clouds one day, fly up among the stars. 

So, if Kate had a chance to brag a little, maybe impress her? She was taking it, all day long. “Hmm, let’s see,” she said, tapping her chin, pretending to think. “Clint’s apartment. That one cupboard he tried to hide the coffee in. Oh, and once, the door leading to this, like, maintenance entrance in Avengers Tower. I was trying to steal Starky’s espresso machine,” she said, laughing a little at the memory. “Plus, sometimes there’s like... little places you aren’t supposed to be able to get to, but they have the best view, ya know?” Places like this, though you wouldn’t have guessed it at first glance. There was nothing around but old desks and dust, but there was still a magic in the air, something tingling and electric. “Ages,” Kate whispered, feeling like she should be reverent. But she ran her fingers along the top of dust-covered desks anyway. “Probably back before anyone even knew what an ‘Ironman’ was,” she joked softly. She glanced back at Riri, and shook her head. “Me neither. It’s too... boring. You know exactly what you’re going to do every day, and the most you have to look forward to is a lame Christmas party where someone makes a fool of themselves,” she said, her laugh cutting through the dust and mixing with the sunlight. 

They were both leaning over her phone, but Kate’s eyes were entirely focused on the real Riri. Her hair smelled sweet, and she wanted to reach out and run her fingers through it, at least until she could place the smell. It was so hard to see anything but the silhouette of her cheek, the curve of her jawline, the slope of her nose, but Kate didn’t need a light to recognize how beautiful it was. Her heart skipped a beat when Riri whispered those words, her brain momentarily going fuzzy. She wasn’t aware of slipping her phone into her pocket, or turning her body to face Riri’s. She didn’t know how her forehead came to be resting against the other girl’s, breathing in the smell of her hair while one hand moved to cradle the side of Riri’s face. She felt like a blind man, reading the warmth and shape of her face. “You know what I wanna do right now?” she asked in a breathy whisper. Instead of answering, she just leaned forward, closed the distance between their lips, and kissed her. 

[futzyou]

hcwkguys:

“Not as often as you’d think,” Clint replied, almost mournfully. Villains didn’t gag him nearly as often as they ought to and, really, that was on them. He talked when he was nervous, and getting knocked out by some dollar store crime lord was enough to get a guy’s nerves going sometimes! It wasn’t like Kate could talk. He’d seen her go on and on to just as many villains as he had. He wasn’t sure if it was because she’d learned it from him or because it was just who she was, but he thought it might’ve been a mixture of the two. “See? I do the best I can with what I got.” It was a lesson he’d learned young; how to make everything and anything into a weapon. He wasn’t sure what it said about him, wasn’t sure what it meant that he was the sort of man who walked into a room and figured out which household objects would be best suited to kill someone, but it had gotten him out of more than a few jams over the years, and that wasn’t nothing.

There was a lot in the world that Clint wasn’t sure of. The life they lived was a wholly uncertain one, and no one knew how the world might change from one instant to the next. There were shapeshifting aliens, gods with mind control abilities, robot invasions, a million different things that could go wrong. There weren’t a lot of absolutes in the lives they lead, but if there was one thing Clint was always certain of, it was Kate. No matter what awful shit he did or said, she’d always be there. Even when he pushed her away she came back, intent on saving his dumb ass whether he deserved it or not. He couldn’t have asked for a better protege, a better friend. “You could probably ask for a better one,” he snorted lightly, trying not to think of all the people he’d let down over the years, all the times she’d been one of them. She deserved better, but she stuck with him anyways. It was more than he could ever hope for.

Kate got him in a way no one else ever had. Maybe it was weird, considering the differences in their backgrounds, but it was the truth. She understood his humor, got how he felt about the heavy-hitters on his team, liked the same weird shows as him. On paper, he and Kate couldn’t be more different, but somehow they worked anyways. Somehow, they were two halves of the same whole. He laughed out loud at her rendition of a dying Skrull, nodding his head quickly. “That’s exactly what they sounded like! Ugh, they might’ve been more dramatic than soap operas, even.” There was no trauma in existence that Team Hawkeye couldn’t make terrible jokes about, it seemed.

Without the people around him, Clint wasn’t sure he’d be much of a hero. He’d never been much good at it on his own, had only managed to be a criminal before Coulson scooped him up off the concrete and slapped him with a pair of handcuffs and a second chance. Even then, with SHIELD behind him, he didn’t think he’d been very heroic. He’d followed their orders without question because ‘be a SHIELD agent or get stabbed with a toothbrush in a prison cell’ didn’t seem like much of a choice, and when it was revealed that he’d been doing HYDRA’s dirty work all along, he hadn’t even really been surprised. It was the Avengers that first gave him the chance to be a hero, the Avengers who’d tossed a bow and arrow at him after knocking Loki out of his head and gave him a second chance he hadn’t earned. Without them, he never would’ve been a hero to begin with. Without Kate, he didn’t think he would’ve kept it up. After his death, when he’d been lost and confused and angry at the world, Kate had reminded him of what he used to be, what he used to fight for. She inspired him to be a hero, to be better. Because of her, he wanted Hawkeye to mean something. If she was going to carry on his legacy, he wanted it to be one worth carrying. “Yeah,” he agreed, offering her a smile. “Yeah, you do.” She had his back. He’d never had any doubt about that.

As a kid, Clint hadn’t had much of a chance to look at the stars. He had to keep his eyes on the ground in order to survive, had to stare at his feet because catching his old man’s eye meant catching his fist, and no one at the circus stood for anything that might even almost be disrespectful. He’d never learned the constellations, never heard the stories that went with them. He looked up at them now, following Kate’s finger with a nod. “Just looks like a bunch’a stars to me,” he admitted with a shrug. He glanced back when she spoke again, noting the expression on her face. “So you’ll have t’show me the real ones when we get back.” It was a promise, a reassurance that they would get back. He wasn’t sure if it was true, but Kate deserved to hear it.

“Their mistake,” Kate shot back, sharing a knowing smirk with him. A Hawkeye that could talk was a Hawkeye that could think. Even before all this superhero stuff, Kate didn’t do well in silence. She blasted music while she studied, or more often had someone over just to talk to. Once, out of desperation while she was stuck in study hall, she struck up a very one-sided conversation with a chipmunk on the other side of the window. She didn’t trust the quiet, didn’t like how it could sneak up and surround you, sudden and smothering. It was one of the many, many reasons she was glad deafness wasn’t a shared Hawkeye quality. Sometimes she wondered if Clint talked so much because he knew exactly how overwhelming silence felt. 

I do the best with what I got. That was the two of them in a nutshell. They didn’t have superpowers, they couldn’t fly or teleport, or read minds, or burst into flames. They couldn’t super-speed away or lift a car over their heads. They had to work twice as hard just to keep up, just to stay at pace with their friends and teammates. But they did the best with what they had, worked a little bit smarter, a little bit harder, a little bit more. “Maybe determination is a superpower in and of itself,” she mused, head tilted a little. “I like to think so anyway.”

She had grown up with everything, Clint had grown up with nothing. Logically, neither of them should be here now. She was supposed to be a socialite, looking for husbands, gossiping about who was wearing last season’s shoes. And from what he’d told her (not nearly as much as she would’ve liked to know), no one expected Clint to be very important either. But determination, hard work, and a little bit (a lot) of dumb luck, had gotten them here. Heroes, protecting their city, saving lives, helping their friends. She knew, without a shred of doubt, that none of it would’ve been possible without him. “Nope,” she chirped, staring right at him. The smile on her face almost hid the ferocity in her gaze. “There’s no one better. I’ve checked, run the numbers, the whole bit. You’re it, Hawkguy.” Her gaze softened with the sincerity of the sentiment.

His laugh always drew hers out, despite the macabre subject of their jokes. (Though certainly -- it’d been worse before. A lot futzing worse.) She glanced up at the sky now, the stars that weren’t really their stars, and shrugged. “At least we don’t have to worry about them right now,” she said. “I mean, as much as I’d love round two of kicking their butts -- hard to get at us in this place. Maybe there’s some perks to being stuck in Futzworld.” 

There were only so many ways she could explain what Clint meant to her -- the words to truly encompass it just didn’t exist. She’d probably spend the rest of her life trying to make up words to describe him, their friendship (which was a word that totally undersold it, honestly). He wasn’t perfect. Neither was she. But he was strong in ways she could never be, and she could sometimes temper those flaws that held him back. Being here, so close to home but so far away at the same time, it threw her. Knocked her off-balance. But she’d always have Clint to steady herself on, and as long as they could fight side by side, they’d find some way to make it. “Always,” she whispered, her head still on his shoulder. “And forever.” Normally, she would’ve added something like, you’re stuck with me, but right now, the moment was a little too fragile, the feeling in her chest a little too much.

“They are,” she said, nodding once. “They’re just a bunch of stars that somebody somewhere decided to make stories of. But I mean, that’s what people are. Just a bunch of humans thrown together, telling each other stories. And making their own,” she added, a sentiment that was important to both of them. No one got to choose their destiny. Not their pasts, not their ghosts, not the villains that couldn’t seem to stay away from their home. Not even each other -- but they’d decided a long time ago to be a part of each other’s stories, and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. “I will,” she promised, a soft smile slipping onto her face. “I’ll show you everything. There’s an archer constellation, Sagittarius. It’s easiest to see in August, maybe we’ll back in time to catch it.” 

[futzyou]

dcvilkid:

[ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] rude. my priorities are the best. [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] listen. you try finding fashion-forward clothes that conceal wings and a tail. it was baggy hoodies or ponchos. [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] good to know my chances with the big guy (santa) are still high. [ ✉ → the better hawkeye - UNSENT ]  how the hell did that argument actually work [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] it’s a great theory. i should write a book. [ ✉ → the better hawkeye ] 😥😥😥 now i’m picturing tiny naked kittens kate and it’s all your fault

(✉ → reddie eddie): dwi :P a night out with me >>>>> existential crisis. trust me, ive done the math here, it checks out (✉ → reddie eddie): plus i kinda owe you, for ya know, accusing you of being a weird power swapper or something  (✉ → reddie eddie): find? oh no, darling. im talking about designing. did i mention i made all the costumes for the YA? you are in excellent hands, bro (✉ → reddie eddie): id buy it! i mean probably. i might just steal an online pdf of it, but im broke ok!! (✉ → reddie eddie): ewwwwwwwwwwwww (✉ → reddie eddie): im not to blame for your futzed up imagination!!  (✉ → reddie eddie): but id like to point out -- thinking about tiny naked kittens (like those hairless ones that are suuuuper cute) is way more fun than contemplating the soul!