#samclint

[sharkdadontumbl]

a redraw of this! except this time Clint fites back!

commissions open ♡

[hawksonfire]

stranded on a desert island & green-eyed epiphany for samclint!

Sam’s not jealous of a piece of driftwood. He’s not. It’s just a chunk of wood being carried by Clint.

Shirtless.

Sweaty.

In the sunlight.

But he’s not jealous of the piece of wood, because it’s just a piece of wood. He’s the one who gets to sleep next to Clint while they’re on this godforsaken island—to keep warm, of course—he’s the one who gets to talk to Clint all day, and he’s the one who watch Clint try and make them a fort to sleep in.

“The storm’ll be here soon, I think,” Clint says, forcing the driftwood into place in the sand. “Probably should start getting all the supplies into the fort.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “I’ll grab the water?”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Clint says, planting his hand on Sam’s chest to keep him sitting.

Sam really hopes Clint can’t feel how fast his heart is beating right now. “I won’t?”

“Nope,” Clint says cheerfully. “You’ll stay put while I get the supplies, and then I’ll come back for you. Gotta stay off that leg, Sammy boy.”

Sam grumbles, but he doesn’t put up any real fight. Clint gathers all their food and water and puts it inside the fort, then comes back for Sam. “I coulda walked,” Sam tries halfheartedly.

“Nah,” Clint says, scooping him up like he weighs less than that piece of wood. “Besides, I was getting kind of jealous.”

“Jealous?” Sam asks. “Of what?”

Clint blushes, his already sunburnt skin going a shade darker. “Of the chair,” he admits. “It’s stupid.”

“You—oh. Oh.” Sam blinks, his mouth open in surprise. “I was jealous of the wood you were carrying earlier,” he admits.

“Aw, Sammy,” Clint teases. He gently sets Sam down on their shared bedroll, propping himself up on an elbow next to him. “Whaddaya say we make good on this surprise vacation, hm?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Sam says grinning.

[2birds1buck]

i am pioneering this ship! (samclintbucky) here's some date night headcanons:

i present: samclintbucky date night where they try to go to a bar or club

but they need to go somewhere so bucky can dance

and that caters to sams refined alc tastes

while also selling the cheap low alc content beer clint exclusively drinks

and also not being crowded enough to stress bucky out or too loud for clint's hearing aids

also bucky is a basic white girl at heart and exclusively drinks sugary fruity syrupy sweet drinks

clint and sam have to take turns dancing w him cus bucky is still learning modern style club dancing

and if clint goes too long on the floor he starts dad dancing but if they leave him at the bar unattended he gets into fights

bucky will refuse to STOP dancing once he’s started tho, so sam and clint have to like take shifts

and sam gets bored/lazy after ten minutes of dancing he’ll just be bumping and grinding w super low effort

so they end up doing a weird bar-crawl club-hopping situation except one of them is always unhappy w the drinks or music or layout of the place so they’re changing locations almost every half hour

they can’t even do shots bc that’s never enough for bucky to feel but if clint touches hard alcohol he goes into a my-father-was-an-abusive-alcoholic spiral and sam just wants to listen to good music w a good whiskey and his boys

but he can’t bc not only is he stressing abt his bfs, he’s also worrying abt safety and exposure and budgeting and not getting sick or anything

its lighthearted tho like its chaos but its their chaos

and bucky def has to teach sam how to formally dance cus sam only knows the like normal funky fresh dancing he learned growing up/through media

whereas clint Knows how to Dance cus he was in the circus he just Chooses to b ridiculous. he feigns oblivious so that bucky will also give him lessons, but this is ultimately exposed by nat on a mission

[mightytwogunkid]

i remember there was this one anime where sam and clint where shield partners  and then clint faked his death   and sam was all  “honouring clint’s last request”   and honestly it was a bit gay   but i don’t remember which ridiculous series it was

[aw-hawkeye-no]

Everyone go read Whisper immediately. It’s Sam/Clint -- a ship which I like to call ‘Love is for the birds’ because I’m hilarious -- and it is so. fucking. good. 

Summary:

Clint is Riley.

That’s his cover. He’s sent by SHIELD to infiltrate the EXO Falcon unit, under the name of Riley Jones.

Sam watches Riley’s empty casket being lowered into the ground. He’s the only one there. There’s nothing left of Riley, nothing but the pain in Sam’s chest, nothing but the regret of never telling Riley how much he’s meant to Sam.

Chance brings him face to face with Clint Barton, alive, scratching the back of his head with that awkward little gesture, and saying “hey” like he hasn’t shattered Sam’s world to pieces.

@intermittently-ava is a menace, and I should not be allowed near her Ao3 when I have things to do.

[fuckyourcalibrations-blog]

365 Days of Writing 2017 - Day 12

Accidents happened to superheroes.  Bad things happened.  They all knew it.  They had seen it before, with Tony’s near death experience, with Pietro’s death, with the separation of Steve and Tony.  They knew of the dangers in their line of work, did their jobs despite it.

No one had ever expected it to happen to Clint.

Clint liked to remind people that he didn’t have a super serum that gave him strength, a suit that protected him, a mighty hammer and super strength, or a rage beast living inside him.  He was just a guy with a bow and really good aim.  When others joined, he reminded them of that too.  He had only really had to deal with snarky comments from Sam, but even then, he wondered if Sam was truly only human.  They kept an eye on Clint, every single one of them.  If Natasha saw something coming his way, she’d report it over the coms.  Thor and Tony had shot over to save him more than once. Steve and Hulk had both caught him before he hit the ground.  Hell, even Sam had taken to constantly scouting, peeking at the archer as he circled in the air.  They all had each others’ backs.

No matter how many times he replayed it in his head, he had no idea how the hell anything had gotten past all of them.  

The hospital room was emptier than he had expected, but he was grateful for it.  Sam had waited until all of the others were gone, trying to time it so that he had time alone with Clint.  He moved into the room, sinking heavily into the chair next to the bed as he looked at the unconscious archer.  The building falling on him had done a number on him: some broken ribs, a concussion, possible memory loss, broken arm, the list went on and on.  Sam watched him tiredly, feeling weariness in his bones.  With the silence of the room and the steady beep of the machines, Sam found himself drifting off.

Sam woke with a start, knocking a blanket off of him.  He frowned at it, unaware of where it had even come from.  He looked at it for a minute, his exhausted brain trying to process what it was.

“The worst part about being in the hospital is the boredom.”  Sam lifted his head, his eyes instantly falling onto Clint, taking in the bruised physique.  Clint looked at him, exhaustion etched onto his features so deep Sam wondered if he’d ever be free of it.  Sam offered a faint smile, the corner of his lips quirking up.  He moved, sitting on the edge of the bed, a hand coming up to brush Clint’s hair.

“Should I ask how you feel?” he asked.  Clint watched him and shook his head.

“Can’t hear you, Sam,” he said, his voice soft.  Sam nodded a little, shifting his hands to repeat himself.  Clint grunted, rolling his eyes, wincing as it made his head hurt.  The good news was that Clint seemed to remember him at least.

I’m sorry, Clint.  Sam signed it slowly, watching Clint as Clint watched his hands.  Clint snorted, shaking his head.

“Don’t be.  None of us saw it, whatever it was.  I don’t even care what it was right now.  It’s no one’s fault.”  The archer fell silent for a minute.  “I want to go home, Sam.  I don’t want to be here.”

I know.  We’ll go home as soon as we can, I promise.  Sam really hoped that they could go home sooner rather than later.  Clint made a noise, but he moved his good hand to hold Sam’s.  Sam brought it to his lips, kissing Clint’s knuckles, earning himself a small smile from the archer.  Something was better than nothing.

[sharkdadontumbl]

he is infact 1 of those fuckers

[sharkdadontumbl]

Leipzig-Halle Airport. The air held its breath as they stood listening to Steve explain the plan; the quinjet, the flight to Siberia, the likelihood of Tony intercepting their route. It was almost halcyon how simplistic Rogers made it.

Fighting your friends.

Sam knew the Sokovia Accords tore a seam through them but to see it unravel to this extent...to simply hurting someone you'd laughed over dinners with...his throat dried out of excuses for how he felt.

He was sad.

He knew which side he'd picked and he stood by his convictions, but above the treeline of adverse opinion and rampant arguing--he was sad to be fighting his friends.

Still, his courage clung to his resolve and he faced ahead, laying dirt over his emotions.

"Hey." Clint said lowly, his gaze hidden under visors. He seemed the least bothered of anyone on either side, like he'd already gone past the treeline and seen how things end.

Whatever resolution he saw, he hadn't shared it with anyone. He hadn't even argued half as much.

His arm veered toward Sam who looked down to see an open, waiting palm then back up to see a severed expression.

Maybe Clint saw nothing at all.

Sam took his hand and felt a tight squeeze.

"Find me. When all this is over," Clint continued under his breath.

Sam didn't say anything. He didn't even know what Clint meant but--

"I'll be looking, too." Clint finished.

--but his emotion unearthed and for a moment, just a moment, he saw it. A glimpse beyond the treeline.

"I will." He said, squeezing back.