#( text: clint )

[theelastword]

something new about aziraphale that i’m getting emotional over on this fine night (no one is shocked): i cannot stop thinking about the first scene of season 2. specifically i cannot stop thinking about the fact that even then, in a moment where both he and crowley even looked younger due to their innocence / lack of doubt or questioning just yet, aziraphale is already doing somersaults to worry for those around him. he doesn’t even KNOW this angel, and the idea that crowley could get in trouble for asking questions shouldn’t occur to him yet, but he’s still so burdened by anxieties and doubts for other peoples’ well-being and conditioned to protect others at his own expense (not to mention eerily close to seeing through Heaven for what it is). aziraphale is so fundamentally good, worrying about other people and caring about them before the very idea that bad things could happen to a fellow angel SHOULD have ever crossed his mind in the first place. and to me that disproves all notions that aziraphale is naive, because he’s been tragically aware since before the Beginning— and before crowley. which makes moments like the post-Job “what does that make me” scene even sadder because by all accounts, if aziraphale was familiar with what it’s like to doubt and worry before the Fall even happened, before he ever should have known what those things were, then he should have been one of the angels to fall, right? Wondering and doubting and worrying about things leads to a Fall, right? Only he didn’t. In a world in which there’s a line dividing doubtless, brainwashed, “happy” angels from doubtful, too-curious-for-their-own-good demons, aziraphale might just be the loneliest being in existence. he’s quite literally the sole person (that we know of) who stayed an angel but is forced to carry a burden that never should have been his, that NOBODY around him in Heaven has to carry. and he can’t ask about it because now he knows for sure where asking questions leads you, but he probably doesn’t understand why he has to carry that burden in the first place. the one he’s been carrying it since before Earth was even created.

[bettyxsnooper]

[ text: clint is a butthead ] I DO [ text: clint is a butthead ] have you seen him? with the jaw? and the eyes? [ text: clint is a butthead ] i could totally get an older guy. [ text: clint is a butthead ] have you been that close to him? [ text: clint is a butthead ] does he actually smell like apple pie, firecrackers, and justice? [ text: clint is a butthead ] … [ text: clint is a butthead ] wait [ text: clint is a butthead ] wtf is a soap arrow for

Text Message Prompts -> Accepting // clint is cackling at @staydown-bro for this -> [text]: I bought too much soap off etsy and now I don’t know what to do with it…I smell like Captain America.

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:18 pm ] -> HAAAAA

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:19 pm ] -> SUCKS TO BE YOU

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:22 pm ] -> Cap gonna think you have a fangirl crush

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:23 pm ] -> which you do

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:26 pm ] -> all that sounds rich girl problems

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:34 pm ] -> ohhhhhh

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:35 pm ] -> give them to me

✉ [ Katie Bird 🏹 / sent, 3:37 pm ] -> we could make soap arrows

[succulentlesbians]

you guys think Clint and Natasha ever got mocked for being called strike team delta? as in, STD?

bc no one wants to write strike team delta all the time. but how the fuck else would you abbreviate it.

all their reports are full of fun sentences like: std was discovered. std killed target. std planted device on wrong person.

and all their files just have STD stamped on them in big letters.

[spider-swift]

i present to you. my masterpiece.

general mcu characters as text posts. (1)

[littlegeecko]

Company.

3k+ words | Clint / Kudzu Téngwàn | Echo: Visual Novel (2019)

Trigger warning for:

Sorta there Asphixiation experience, mentions of Brian

---

Summary:

Clint has a nightmare, then takes a moment to think about his life up to this point, and what he wanna do with it now that he's living with Kud

(Takes place after Jenna's good ending, i fill up some spaces here and there to explain their presence)

Enjoy : ]

---------

Clint POV

---------

I open my eyes.

I'm sitting on the ground, i know because there's dry dirt under my paws, but for some reason i don’t even question how i got here.

It's dark, so dark i can't make out where i am without squinting my eyes more than i usually do. I can hear the wind shaking nearby trees with a hollow whistle, it reminds me a bit of a train’s horn.

It feels like my body weighs a fuckton, my head and neck heavy and sluggish as i move them

My eyes barely adjust as i look up, to the sky, or what i assume it's the sky. It's red like blood, and some stars adorn it

Usually my vision is not that bad at night, it must be really late with no moon for it to looks this way, and so far i knew, the sky shouldn't be red...

I'm sitting in the middle of a....forest? Alone, with nothing but the sounds of nature around me and a ghostly sensation of familiarity that makes my shoulders relax. I say nothing

Deep breath in, and another out...

Branches crackle and grind together in the distance, that hollow whistle again

Breath in...breath out...

It's familiar, like a distant memory of something i can't exactly make out right now, but it sorta reminds me of that one time i followed Duke to the forest area because i was bored without Jeremy.

Duke got very angry, hissing at me in a hushed yell while looking around, then dragging me back to the entrance of the forest by the arm

Then he stood there, watching me go up the road as if making sure i was far enough to make his way back into the lush

I blink slowly. Before i close my eyes fully

Duke...i wonder where is he now.

I take another breath, but this time there's a pressure in my neck right under my Adam's apple, i get my hands up to my throat, almost a reflex

I feel something ragged, prickly and firm that scratches my paw pads like a cactus; rope.

A noose.

My eyes fly open as my ears go down.

No.

Please no.

I gasp, and suddenly i'm standing, my paws barely touching the ground and i let out a strangled wheeze, forced out my lungs as i try and grab the noose for some leverage.

I'm hanging, but i'm not hanging. Its a loop of panic and relief that lasts too short each time, everytime, my desperate breaths ending in shaky coughing

I try to weigh myself down bending my knees to no avail, letting out a whine of exertion and pain as the noose grazes my neck and leaves behind that prickling sensation again. It's strangely numb, but the pressure it's all the same.

It's stabbing me, it hates me.

 There's beads of hot blood going down my collarbone, i can feel them, i'm briefly reminded of the little cross figurine that catboy had around his neck, for some reason

I look around as i breath too fast, expecting to see something, anything that could help me get out of here, but there's only darkness.

I try to keep my whines and groans low, still trying to bend my knees. My furless tail swishing side to side as frantically as me. I hear a branch snap in the distance and-

My blood runs cold when i see it.

Standing there. A huge shadow.

It walks towards me

It's face's obscured, but it's someone huge, towering over me. It's holding something.

I can't make it out in this darkness, but its all so familiar, realization hitting me as my throat closes in around a soft squeak of absolute terror

I freeze on the spot, my hands holding onto the noose like my life depends of it as more wounds open in my pawpads, my heart hammering in my chest and filling my ears until it’s all i can hear

It breaks through the noise, i hear a snort and a high-pitched giggle that melts into a distorted, disturbing laughter, i swear i can hear static laced into it. All of my fur stands on end and i feel my neck veins bulge under the strain, i feel like there's a rock inside my throat, about to make it snap

No...it can't be. It can't be him. He’s back?!

I screw my eyes shut and i scream, with all my might, but no sound comes out.

I open my eyes.

It’s dark, but i can make out the padded ceiling and moonlight coming through a window by my side, as i turn my head to it i feel the surface under me sway ever so slightly, a water bed.

Kudzu's trailer, Kudzu's bed. Right.

I let out a sigh, it's cold outside and no sun is visible, so it must be around 3 or 4 am.

I sit up and stare down at my covered paws in silence. Usually when i dream about...him i wake up hassled and yelling, curled up in a ball by the corner until Kud calms me down with his strange little mouth sounds, but this time it feels...different. i feel empty.

If anything my head is fuzzy, my lips dry, chapped. My fur feels a little damp with sweat, except the zones around my cheeks, those feel wet and i rub my eyes to dry them. My hands are shaking

It's almost dead silent if it wasn't for the occasional chittering of the cicadas outside and the faint noise of a fan somewhere in the trailer.

I look at the curtain that leads to the hallway, cracked open a bit

Without much thinking i stand and get out.

Kudzu's trailer is very fancy and cozy, at least to me; small but organized, colorful and with all the essentials, it can get a little hot but it's really chilly during the night, perfect to curl up in bed and nap. It smells earthy, clean and a bit musky, our smells combined at this point from how long i've been living with him.

“...”

I look at a small calendar on the kitchen counter as a pass by; 2 months.

It been 2 months since me, Jeremy and Kudzu escaped on the “ghost train”, 2 months since some people helped Kud move his trailer out of Echo and into a separated zone in Payton for him to stay for as long he saw necessary, 2 months since some people picked up my sis from back there too.

2 months since i started going clean by force, and Kudzu took me in

Speaking of...

Soft snoring gets my attention from behind me and there he is, laying on the couch with a thin blanket covering him from his belly down, chest rising and falling

I stare openly, i don't feel my face move

Like an invisible force pulling me, i walk up to the couch and stand by his side, looking down

And i just....stare at his sleeping, peaceful face.

The cicadas chitter, like they're singing a song...

Kud seems to be having a good sleep at least, if it wasn't for the occasional shifting around.

I remember the conversation we had last night when he complained about his back being stiff, and i said he could sleep on his bed already, but he refused, the bastard. He said he “wanted to make sure i was comfortable and had some privacy” while i stayed with him, so he went to sleep on the couch, just like every night.

I frown a bit

Kudzu was such a weird dude.

He looked, and acted, like a fucking badass, even if he was so much shorter than me!

...And i've caused him so many problems already, he could easily kick me out and leave me to my luck, specially after all the badmouthing, scratches i've given him at times, and how my nightmare-induced yelling makes his face scrunch up in an expression i didn't like on him.

But he hasn't kicked me out, if anything, he has tried his best to not bother me in particular ways, making me feel “comfy” as much as possible

He was quiet and sensible, soft and honestly kinda girly. He had a new garden and shit, and spoke all firm but tender, especially to me, with a smile an' all, it kinda pisses me off, to be honest. Speaking to me like i'm a stupid pup...

I pout, watching him adjust his head in his sleep

His ear gets caught up under his head and i resist the urge to reach out and fix it for him, i don't want to wake him up, not right now.

...

Sometimes i can't help but wonder what is his fucking problem.

Why is he letting me stay? I'm nothing but a nuisance, a pest, everyone seemed to agree on that. Even Duke did... and even so Duke was kinda nice to me before hell broke loose. Keith was the same... Both of them lost in the void as time went on until i had no one but the gang and...

I ball my hands into shaky fists as i think of him, a lump forming in my throat as i try my best to keep tears from forming in my eyes.

...Duke was...he had his issues, and it was my mistake to follow him around to the forest when i shouldn't have, i know that. And Keith just kinda left, God knows where is he now. Both of them were nice to me but somehow ended up making things more shit than they already were

What makes Kudzu different from them? How do i know he's not going to turn his back on me when i least expect it? Or worse. He could be...scheming something. Something to do with me

I scratch my neck as i feel the fur in my nape stand up. The scars long healed but still sticking out my fur

I bite my lip to not make a noise as my stomach feels suddenly hollow.

It's a scary thought, Keith always said scary thoughts were normal and i could analyze them to get over them. It was a thing Kud said sometimes too, something about healing

Healing...

I look down at my hands, old scars on my wrists barely visible by now, and many more on my fingers, i wiggle them, my nails growing better and no longer chipped  around the edges. I see my tail curling in between my legs and it's so weird to see how fluffy it is now. It's been years since my tail looked this full of fur

Kud reminds me of Keith a bit sometimes, but he's quieter, his moves sharper, physical contact even more limited than Keith had with me.

Keith tried to protect us from the horrors of that shitty town, and failed, leaving us to our own luck... Or maybe Micha was right and he really got killed by... Him.

...could that happen to Kudzu now that i'm around him?

Somehow the pit in my belly felt emptier as i suck in a sharp breath through my nose.

No. I don't want Kudzu to get hurt, specially not for my fault

He's so kind... and he's been so patient with me even when he's visibly tired at times, that i know. I grit my teeth, i'm not fucking stupid, like Micha, Leo and he thinks i am.

He has treated me so well and i haven't done anything for him, what if i do it too late? When he's already in the face of danger cuz of me?

No, i can't let that happen, Kudzu is so cool and good. I don't want him to hate me and leave me like Duke, or to disappear like Keith...

I grip my head fur, pulling at it, and let out a long groan as my yowls pull back in a pained grimace. I wish i could get a hit right now and not think about this difficult shit that made my stomach do flips and my eyes water. It was annoying as fuck, it made me want to break shit, but i can't break any of Kud's shit, obviously.

I hit my head with the flat of my hands, my nails scratching at my thin fur with force as i pull-

"Clint?"

My eyes fly open to find a groggy Kudzu looking up at me, expression concerned as he seems to try make sense of the situation.

"...What are you doing?" His voice is firm, but not accusatory, he seems legitimately curious, worried even.

The sensation in my stomach is replaced by the beating of my heart just like in my dream, it quickened at some point apparently, but it's not super loud, it's more like when you get caught doing something you shouldn't. Embarrassment

I slowly pull my hand away from my head as my body relaxes...

I open and close my mouth, my tongue grazing over a missing spot between my teeth.

"...Couldn't sleep"

I say simply, albeit a bit shaky. He notices, he always does

Kud visibly relaxes with a strained side grin, groaning as he slowly sits up and rolls his shoulders. He rubs his eyes

"Another nightmare?"

I nod. He looks up at me.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head no

"Very well" he adds, sitting up completely with a soft hiss, his hand rubbing his lower back

I stand there staring then blink in realization, both that i'm just there ogling like an idiot just playing with my thumbs and that this is a good chance to do something for him for a change. I clear my throat

"Do you want to sleep on your bed?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from wavering. He shakes his head no and i frown

"I told you i'm fine on the couch"

"That's not true" I say quickly

"Clint, i just-"

I growl in annoyance, and before he can give me that same retort from last night i grab him by the wrist, his eyes snapping open as his body tenses up

"Clint!"

I don't let him complain as i yank him up and off the couch, briskly walking to the makeshift bedroom, and he follows, stumbling a bit

He doesn't speak further more than a sigh, and i open the curtains for me to crawl inside and tug his wrist

"Get in" i say, and in a moment of sleepy lucidity he seems to pause as he catches on me also being on the bed

"I know you're trying to be nice but-"

"I'm not fucking asking ya. Get in"

I tug more insistently and this time he does follow, looking to the side as if bashful, but either too tired to fight back or just done with my shit at this point. We both know he's stronger than me, and yet he lets me do this

"You're sleeping here till your back feels better, ya hear? Even if i have to hold ya down"

He actually does chuckle at that as he gets on the wobbly mattress, shuffling about to lay his head on the pillow, and actually letting out a satisfied groan as he comfortably sinks on the bed

He has that smile on his face when his eyes turn up to me, half lidded but focused, and my mouth goes dry all of the sudden

"Well thanks, Clint" he gives me an amused look, and i can't help but think he probably believes i'm too much of a pussy to sleep alone after a nightmare. I don't fight it tho

I do a little 'hmp' in agreement, laying on my side and looking at Kudzu, whose eyes are now closed, nose pointing to the ceiling

...I look at him up and down for a moment, my tail twitches as it sways side to side between the wall and my legs. My ear twitches

Kudzu...Kudzu is really nice. I need to step it up if i'm staying here with him for God knows how long.

I'm no longer a pup or a youngling that needs Duke or Keith to guide me along. I'm on my own shit now, and away from Echo, hopefully forever. Hell even my sis made it out eventually, staying at some place only for girls...

If i'm going to survive out here too might as well get along with the one person that's actively doing something for me, unlike the others, which to be fair? they also have their own shit to deal with

I thin my lips, i sigh and relax my body, scooting a little closer to Kud, hopefully he won't notice.

All of this took my mind off the dream i had, slowly fading into the void just like the rest of em, and i, too, slowly fade into nothingness for the night. After all, Kud will be there when i wake up. I hope.

---------------

Kudzu’s POV

---------------

Light peeks through the blinds of my window as i crack an eye open, groaning at the sun beams directly on my face. I stretch my arms over my head with a groan, then yawn

I remember last night pretty well, specially since it was a dreamless sleep... I rub my eyes as i organize my thoughts and look at the little wall clock beside my pillow

8 am... Still too early for Clint to wake up

Speaking of Clint...

This time i don't have to stand up from the couch and check behind the curtains to see how is he, as right now he's laying beside me...more specifically, on me, his eyes closed and expression serene as soft snores warm the fur on my chest, one arm (and leg) draped over my body.

My chest feels a little tight, position a bit too similar to old memories, but at the same time... it's welcomed, it feels kinda nice. I'll never tell Clint but i actually think he looks a bit cute when in a chill mood, heh...

I smile down at him and make a move to get out of bed, but his grip suddenly gets firm, holding me down and against his thin body with a sleepy grumble, face easing again when i stop my efforts.

I open my mouth to tell him i gotta stand and get ready for the day, but i close it, laying my head back on the pillow with a defeated sigh, i  guess i can stay for 10 more minutes...

My hand absentmindedly goes up to Clint's back and i feel him tense up, then relax, cuddling closer, his thigh over mine

I feel my cheeks get a little warm, but i quickly stifle the twisty feeling in my chest, closing my eyes.

I can already hear Clint saying the position was a total accident when he wakes up, and i can't help but smile a bit.

It's good to have some company.

-----------

:3c

[doyouknowthisdisabledcharacter]

Do You Know This Disabled Character?

This isn’t specific to any media, if you know only one version vote I know them.

Clint Barton is Deaf.

[iamktb206]

“Nostalgia is a well-intentioned wound.”

— Clint Smith

[bobbimorses]

black widow & hawkeye #1

[atley01]

So like, the MCU....right?

It's a universe. It's a universe where there's a TON of possibilities. Like if there's a headcanon you have about a character, in theory, there's a universe where thats canon.

So I need you all to consider:

The Avengers, but instead of fighting crime, they all work in an office, and its just one giant office comedy. They can still have their powers, but they work in cubicles now.

This MAY have already been done before, so if it has, my bad!

I would love to see this idea expanded as a fanfic (I might do that, actually)

(If there are existing fics like this that yall know ab dont be shy, hand 'em over)

[naferty]

Clint: Spill the tea, doc. Is Iron Man gucci?

Tony: [pretending to be severely injured]

Bruce: No cap, he's probably going to take an L

Natasha: Big yikes

Clint: This ain't it chief

Bruce: Look, I get that you're salty, but you're both delulu if you think he's going to make it

Clint: It's giving 'I don't know how to do my job' vibes

Natasha: Be so for real right now

Clint: I knew the vibes were off the moment I step foot into this hospital

Bruce: Okay, take several seats

Natasha: No. Let him cook

Steve, walking in: What's going on here?

Sam, eating popcorn: They're upset about the ending to their favorite show so they're redoing it. Peter is directing

Peter, wiping tears away: You're all doing gucci!

[raspberrybrain]

I read Gardening… by 42donotpanic and haven't been able to get these three out of my mind since.

Do not ask me where Clint's other hand is. I do not know.

This arrangement has been described to me as "people macrame".

[artisticallygay]

Sometimes I think about how the rest of the Stardew fandom saw Clint as a weirdo with "nice guy" entitlement towards Emily meanwhile my ass just saw him as an autistic guy who struggles with his emotions and connecting to people and ESPECIALLY struggled with his feelings for Emily because of that

Idk maybe I'm just the weird one here

[olsenmyolsen]

Lots of Love

master list

dark master list

Post AoU (WandaNat)

Word Count: 2.9K

TW: Mentions of Hydra, Ultron, Pietro Death

It has been four months since Pietro Maximoff was killed by Ultron.

In those months, no one had grieved more than his sister, Wanda Maximoff.

Between leaving the only home she'd ever known in the worst state it had ever been in—the culture shock of America. Testing, training, and above all else, trying to live free once again... it hasn't exactly been easy for the young woman.

Sure, the team, The Avengers, have tried to be there for Wanda. Steve acting as a mentor and trainer for her abilities. Sam there for a good laugh when he wasn't tracking down leads for Steve's missing friend. Clint becoming somewhat of an Uncle with trips to the farm to see little fat Nathaniel and is always there to help with any questions regarding her newfound home.

For instance, a few weeks after Clint got Wanda her first-ever phone, she was confused by words and phrases being thrown at her.

"Clint." Wanda, with her accent still heavy, approached the man who had an arm around his wife as the two sat in the living room watching some reality trash. Wanda secretly stayed up late and watched the night before. "Sam texted the chat and said, lol,what does this mean?"

"It means lots of love," Clint responded without a second thought, earning a slap on the arm from Laura. "Not it doesn't." "Yes, it does." He countered. "Wanda." Laura sat up. "It used to mean lots of love. But everyone uses it to mean laugh out loud nowadays."

While Laura's explanation correct. It confused the witch even more. She looked at her phone and back to Laura. "So when I wrote, Sam Clint mentioned he was going to work on the house today and show me how to tend the horses, but all he's done is sit on the couch for the last two hours. Is this normal? He thought I was joking?" Wanda states, deeply unaware of how insulting the text sounded to none other than Clint's one good ear.

However, Laura laughs hard as Wanda stands beside the couch with an awkward feeling around her.

Clint musters up the strength within him to let Wanda know that, yes, Sam thought she was joking and that maybe she doesn't have to be Avengers-level observant when on the farm.

"Anyways, Birdman clearly doesn't understand the amount of work I do, but he will during training on Monday." Clint winks at Wanda, who shrugs. "I guess." Wanda still a little lost answers, honestly.

"Here, why don't you come sit, and I'll get started on those chores." Clint has Wanda take his place while Laura gets ready to start lunch. "You okay, though, right?" The guy with the weapon choice of two strings and stick asks, earning a nod from Wanda.

Truth be told, Wanda was doing better today. She just kept getting lost in her thoughts. She was excited to be an Avenger. To help others. Fight for the greater good. Save people from a cold, abused life she had while with Hydra. But training was exhausting. Especially when her powers grew more and more each day, that just meant pushing herself further and further.

Sometimes it worked. Like when she could lift and move Steve several feet in the air.

But there were still setbacks. And those hurt Wanda. It made her feel small, like no one would trust her if she accidentally threw Vision just a little too hard into a stack of mats one more time.

Thankfully, Vision has an indestructible head.

But you see what I mean? These last four months haven't exactly been easy for the young woman.

"You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Laura asks as she enters the room again.

There was the last little kicker—the Black Widow.

Ever since the red jacket incident, the only women on the team haven't said, well.. anything to each other. But the two women knew why. Natasha intimidated the younger woman, while Wanda's powers frightened and angered Natasha.

Years of trauma and memories were pulled back to the front of Natasha's mind in a snap, and it destroyed her. Days after the fall of Sokovia. No one saw Natasha.

Days turned into two weeks before Steve was surprised to find her alone in the vast training room before sunrise. Knuckles and feet bloodied. However, she still didn't talk. And when she did, it was in Russian. Something the old man didn't know.

The only person on the team to know Russian. To be able to communicate with Natasha was playing host to the enemy from three weeks prior.

And then the witch was back in the compound. Everyone greeted her. Except one. Everyone showed her around. Except one. Everyone apologized and tried to make conversation about the rise and fall of Ultron. Except two. Tony and Natasha. But Stark is a story for a different day.

So those weeks turned into months, and Wanda and Natasha could be in the same room, but whenever the younger one opened her mouth, the older one would leave, not without a glare or longing stare of curiosity. Those became normal.

So when the question was asked. "You start with Romanoff this week, right?" Wanda started praying to everyone and anything that Natasha Romanoff wouldn't kill her.

_

Wanda and Clint step into the smaller gym reserved for Wanda's training. "Don't sweat it. I talked to her." Clint tried to reassure the enhanced individual, but what he says does the opposite. "Thanks, Clint." She manages to reply through a panic hidden beneath her smile. "Should I warm up-"

"You're late!" The booming voice of Natasha scares Wanda and Clint. "In the future, Clint, if I say I want Wanda here at 7, what time do you think I mean?" Clint rubs the back of his neck, realizing his fuck up. "6:30." Wanda gives Clint a crazy look as he hides his face. "So she's late," Natasha emphasizes. "You can go."

"But I thought I would..." His voice trails off as Natasha raises her eyebrow. She's in a mood already, and Clint doesn't want to end up on the inside of a punching bag. Again. "Good luck, kid. I'll see you later." Clint frantically leaves Wanda without any protection.

"Alright. Stretch. Let's go." Natasha doesn't give Wanda any time before she's already in the middle of the floor doing a pose Wanda has never seen before.

Wanda tried her best to follow suit, but she can't bend like Natasha can. Natasha knows this, too. For the last month since Natasha got the word she'd be training Maximoff, she started doing expert-level training poses three times a day. Even on the days when she was busy, she would find a way to excuse herself to train.

So, as Nat does her moves flawlessly, Wanda falters at every step. Making a smile crack onto the Russians' face. So the little witch needs more help than she thought. Excellent.

"Am I really going to be a pretzel when I'm doing stealth missions, or is this just to punish me?" Wanda complained 45 minutes after Clint left. "It's not called the pretzel." Natasha quickly warns, making Wanda roll her eyes. "Doing stretches like this will make you more nimble." Natasha stops doing her pose and lets out a big breath before standing up in front of Wanda, lying on her back.

"You know I can move things with my mind, right?"

Now Natasha rolls her eyes. "Using your powers won't mean anything if you can't fight or escape a situation using your body. Get up."

Wanda groans, completely tired at Natasha, who hasn't even broken a sweat. She knows I'm not a widow, right? I can't just do what she does? Wanda thinks to herself as she follows Natasha across the room.

However, Wanda goes from thinking about all the stupid poses she just did, to pretzels, to watching Natasha. She walks with pressure on the front of her feet. It makes her silent, Wanda realizes. Wanda's eyes move up Natasha's legs covered by fabric, but the toned muscle underneath can still be seen. The higher Wanda goes, the more her breathing picks up.

Natasha walks in front of Wanda, aware of the wandering eyes behind her. She can sense them from miles away if she wanted to. But here, right now, Natasha feels Wanda's eyes scanning down her back to her butt. Again.

Stop staring

Wanda lifts her face to see Natasha stopping and turning to face her with a smile. Those thoughts weren't Wanda's own. Were they Nat's?!

Green

Wanda goes to open her mouth, but Natasha stops her with a punch thrown to her hip. Not using ALL of her strength, but the Russian could've been kinder.

"Ow fuck!" Wanda screams, using her favorite American curse word. "What the hell?!" She lifts her eyes up to see Natasha with a smirk on her face in a fighting pose.

She's such a poser, Wanda thinks as the pain in her hip subsides.

"You need to be ready at all times. Observant always." Natasha takes a step towards Wanda, who puts up her hands. "So instead of staring at my ass, you could've been assessing threats!" Wanda's cheeks go red. She was caught. And those thoughts she heard were Nat's. Shit.

"Oh please, you're not the first person to ever look." Natasha snarks, dismissing Wanda's embarrassment. "Now, will you try to train or think about me some more? I can do both. Can you?" This makes Wanda want to fight. She doesn't like being called out for a mistake like this one. She didn't even mean to stare at her ass that second time! (She did.)

Plus, seeing Natasha saying this many words in this close proximity is throwing Wanda for a loop. If she didn't know any better, Wanda would think Natasha was being friendly.

"No powers. Remember." Wanda nods. "You should speak up when I talk to you, Maximoff." Wanda glares daggers that bounce off the redhead. "Yes. No powers."  Natasha smirks. This the first time she's been able to get under the skin of the person that sent her spiraling.

After circling each other once more, Wanda tries to make the first move. But Natasha was counting on it. When Wanda lunges forward, she fully extends her arm—mistake number one. Romanoff grabs Wanda's bicep and pulls her off balance before Nat sweeps Wanda's legs, causing the younger woman to fall face-first on the mat.

"Wow. Are you sure you've been training with Steve?" Natasha mocks with a smile. Whether it was her intention or not, Wanda is getting upset. But when her face, back, and ass land on the mat in succession, followed by mocks, Wanda thought she went from being upset to pissed.

It didn't help that every time the Widow got the upper hand on Wanda, she could hear Natasha's thoughts.

Red jacket

Sloppy

Should've grabbed here instead of here

"You're trying to fail."

Green eyes

She can't rely on her powers

"You're made of marble."

Like I said. Wanda thought she was pissed. So when she got up from the mat quicker than Natasha anticipated and charged, Natasha couldn't do anything but take the hit as the two fell to the mat again. Wanda quickly holding Natasha's hands above her head. "Finally!" Natasha exclaimed through the tiny amount of pain she felt. "It's about time you got that emo anger back."

She immediately made this a lesson that Wanda failed to see it was. Even though Wanda used all that she had without her powers, Natasha didn't flinch. 'Emo Anger.'

For the multi-hundredth time since entering the compound, Wanda was hurt. It was written on her face. Natasha could look up and see it but wasn't sure what to do. For the second time since the flight back from Sokovia, Natasha saw Wanda as something other than the opposition. She saw something else. But first...

She was about to see Wand cry.

That chipped away at the rough exterior Natasha had built up since they met. "Hey Wand-"

The tight grip Wanda had on Natasha's wrists melted away as the more petite woman started to cry. Her body sliding off of Natasha's, landing on her side. Natasha quickly and without thinking wraps her arms around Wanda, sending jolts of electricity through their bodies.

It was then Natasha realized that, yes, she was terrified of Wanda's power but not Wanda. For the last four months, Natasha had been observing Wanda. At first, it was a way to protect her team members from an outside threat, but it slowly and somehow became a crush that hadn't made itself known till this second.

As Natasha held Wanda close, the witch cried more. She was mentally tired and physically exhausted. She was sure Natasha hated her even more now, and all she wanted was her brother. She wanted to speak to him one last time. Tell him that he was loved. That her favorite shows weren't the same without his complaints. She wanted to see him.

But here she was, lying on the floor, crying into the arms of the Black Widow.

"Let it out, Wanda... It's okay.." Wanda, through her calming tears, heard the sweet murmuring of Natasha. And through more sniffles and confused thoughts, Wanda couldn't help but say: "Do you hate me?" Natasha peered over Wanda's face.

Green eyes

Pink lips

Wanda's sad-looking eyes opened wider at the sound of the other woman's thoughts. "I don't hate you, Wanda."

"But you did." Wanda counteracts. Natasha thinks as she moves a hand up and down the witches back. "I did. But that was misplaced. I'm sorry for that." Wanda couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her brain was still stuck on the thoughts from earlier.

Natasha is thinking about her.

Natasha doesn't hate her.

Natasha apologized.

Natasha.

Wanda looked up to see Natasha already looking at her. "Are you feeling better?" Natasha asked. "Yes. Thank you." Wanda answered, but neither one moved. Natasha kept her arms around Wanda. While Wanda kept her face near the crook of Nat's neck. "Cinnamon."

"What?" Natasha had a smile people would pay to see. Or would be killed if they saw it. "Your hair. It smells like cinnamon. The great Black Widow uses cinnamon-infused shampoo." Nat rolled her eyes but couldn't help but be happy in this moment. "Lavender." She replied. "That's what you use." Natasha looked down at the smiling teammate, who wiped her eyes free of any remaining evidence of tears.

She saw it—a smile on Wanda's face.

A smile that Natasha made happen.

Beautiful 

Wanda pushed her head into Natasha in an effort to hide the fact that she read her thoughts and to not let Nat see her blush.

"Natasha." Wanda's muffled voice hit the spy's ears. "Yes?" Wanda was nervous on what to say next. She hadn't felt this way in a long time. "Your thoughts... I can hear them. I promise I wasn't trying. They were just loud."

Silence.

When Wanda had the courage to poke her eye out of Natasha's neck, she saw her staring away. "I think we should end training. I'll let Steve know that-" "Wait, Natasha, I didn't mean-" Natasha tried her best to pull her arm out from under the witch, but the Black Widow trained Wanda. So, in one fell swoop. Wanda gripped Natasha's arm back and kicked her forward, so Natasha surprisingly was on her back once again.

In an instant, Wanda was on top of her.

"It's okay," Wanda spoke closer to Nat's face than ever before. "You're not who they made you to be." Natasha's eyes became sad, knowing that Wanda had seen the memories she made her relive months ago. "You're not made of marble, Natasha. You're made of so much more. I like you because of that."

"You like me?" Natasha's voice cracked. She was thankful no one else was around to hear that. "Well, I don't hate you. And you don't hate me." The woman on top spoke.

Slowly and carefully, Wanda began to lean into Natasha more. "Is this okay?" Wanda asked. Natasha nodded and brought her face up until their lips softly touched one another. A quick kiss turned into another and another until the nervousness was gone, and all that remained was the lust for more. "Natasha.." Wanda began to moan as Nat's roaming hands slid down Wanda's back.

Natasha smirked. An accent never made her name sound so good.

In the far corner of the gym, Clint was retracing his steps. It had been over an hour and a half, and no one had yet come out of the room. Alive or dead. So Clint took it upon himself to make sure everything was alright.

But once he saw his two teammates tangled with one another, he decided to exit and text his wife.

"I think I'm going to have to make some upgrades to the guest bedroom on the second floor."

"lol."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Two Mules for Sister Sara (1970) American-Mexican Western film in Panavision directed by Don Siegel 

[daresplaining]

Clint: “Great job, Clint. Now there’s no one left to interrogate. Think, damn it. What would Murdock do? COME AND GET ME! Yeah, he probably wouldn’t do that.” Wastelanders: Hawkeye #1 by Ethan Sacks, Ibraim Roberson, Dijjo Lima, and Cory Petit

I mean...he might. 

[mamaspidershit]

Peter: Money... Is like president trading cards.

Clint: …

Clint: …Fuck, you’re right.