#((The return home))

[avengerscompound]

The Return Home

The Return Home:  A Winterhawk Fanfic

Buy me a coffee with Ko-fi Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton

Word Count: 1073

Warnings:  Injuries

Synopsis:  Clint just wants to get home, but when he arrives at his building someone is waiting in the dark to ambush him.

The Return Home

Clint’s whole body ached.  He was pretty sure he’d broken a rib and at one point he’d dislocated his shoulder.  He’d pushed it back in, but usually, you were supposed to rest that kind of wound.  Instead, Clint had spent the rest of the afternoon having the shit kicked out of him while he used a compound bow with a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound pull strength, over and over again.

He was sore and exhausted and he just wanted to put some ice on his shoulder and ribs, have a shot of rum in his coffee so that he could pass out, and not have any dreams where he revisited that battlefield.

Also, his hearing aids had been shorted out by an EMP. So he couldn’t hear anything.  He wasn’t sure if he was upset about that or not.  On one hand, it had made ordering pizza difficult.  On the other, it gave him an excuse not to enter into small talk.

Of course, he’d stopped at the pizza place down the road and bought a pie.  There was no point going to his empty apartment without it.  It wasn’t home without a box on the counter that he could pick at for a few days.  Pepperoni.  Extra cheese.  He'd also gotten a side of garlic knots.  It was way more food than he was going to be able to eat but Lucky would have some, and he could reheat some for breakfast. It would mean he didn't have to go out, and he wanted to know if that ice cube trick he saw on Reddit would work.

Besides, he really liked garlic knots.

He struggled with the security door.  Of course, the stupid thing wouldn't recognize his key and when it did, as soon as he went to turn the handle it would click locked again.  He finally managed to muscle it open, aggravating his shoulder in the process, and he stepped inside.

The hall light was out and someone was standing in the dark alcove under the stairs.  He couldn’t see them, but he still knew they were there.  It was like an itch under his skin.  It made his skin crawl and the hair stand up at the back of his head.  It was the kind of itch you got when you know you were being watched.  He assumed whoever it was was responsible for the light being out, which was annoying because now he was going to have to fix it as well as likely get his ass kicked again today.

Still - maybe he’d get lucky and whoever was waiting to ambush him might kill him and he wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“I know you’re there,” he said as he walked to the stairs.  If they wanted a fight, they could start it.  He’d be ready for it either way but he wasn’t going to make the effort to get it going.  He caught a glimpse of movement as he started climbing the stairs and the figure began following him up.

There was something familiar about the movement.  Something comforting even.  He knew he could turn and see who it was if he wanted to, but he didn’t have the energy.  He could move if they attacked but the fact they hadn’t meant that they likely weren’t going to.  At least not yet.  Maybe they had a message to deliver first.  If that was the case they were going to have to get comfortable while he looked for his spare pair of hearing aids.

When he reached the door he caught a glimpse of metal.  He braced a moment, ready to fight or dodge depending on what was about to happen, but when three beats passed he unlocked the door and pushed it open.  Lucky came running out snuffling and dancing around Clint’s feet.  When the Golden Retriever ran past him with the same excited lope and greeted Clint’s guest, Clint knew for sure he had nothing to worry about.  He slumped inside and went straight to the kitchen bench.  He dropped the pizza box and the bag with the garlic knots on the counter and pulled out a slice and held it down at his knee.  When Lucky came running over and took it, Clint braced his hands on the kitchen bench and let his head drop forward, as his eyes fell closed.

The figure moved up behind him.  Clint could feel them before they’d even touched him.  Their hands connected first gently landing on Clint’s hips and sliding around his waist.  As they moved up his stomach to his chest, the rest of their body pulled in closed and pressed up against Clint’s back.  Their cheeks rested on Clint’s shoulder and their arms pulled him in close to them.  Both were strong and firm, but one was made of unyielding metal.  It made his broken rib ache, but he didn’t care.  There was nothing in the world that would make him want to move it away now.

Their lips brushed against Clint’s neck, a puff of air tickling him as they spoke but Clint couldn’t hear a word.  He pulled the broken hearing aid from his ear and put it on the counter, not saying anything but hoping the meaning would be passed along.

The hands moved, pressing into him so that Clint had to turn or risk his broken rib pushing into his lung.  He turned around and looked down into the face of Bucky Barnes.  His hair lay lank over his eyes.  Such gorgeous eyes.  Blue but in a dark way.  Like a storm brewing out over the ocean.  Bucky reached up and cradled Clint’s jaw, his thumbs brushing over his cheekbones.  “Are you okay?”

Clint couldn’t hear the question, but he could read his lips perfectly well.  He nodded.  “Broke my rib,” he said.

Bucky smiled.  He brushed his thumb over Clint’s lips and shook his head just a little. “Fuck.  I was so worried.  When Steve called and said what happened…”

He tugged Clint down toward him, pressing the archer’s forehead against his own.  Clint smiled and his arms circled Bucky’s waist.  He kissed him.  Just briefly.  A soft brush of his lips against Bucky’s before he pulled away and buried his face in Bucky’s neck.  Today was hard.  His whole body ached and he was exhausted to the bone.  It would all be okay because here, in Bucky’s arms, he was finally home.

~ END ~

[edwardbonnets]

how to ask the demon you've been smitten over for 6000 years to dance: an angel's guide

bonus:

[tonytigerandnovemberdreams]

duck! warrior! scrapped comic cover.

this was going to be the first comic i was going to publish but i scrapped it to make a longer tony tiger comic. more about that comic soon

[notaplaceofhonour]

Not At Odds

Ceasefire Now + Bring Them Home Now

Jewish & Palestinian safety & freedom are not at odds with each other; they are interconnected. These things can must coexist.

[shirleyjacksonism]

"I come home - and I have a feeling of returning like a ghost to its haunt."

Katie Maria // Sharp Objects // Bonedog, Eva H.D // Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?, Jeanette Winterson // The Early Journals , Virginia Woof

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met

[mint-fixates]

There's this weird take I've seen floating around on TikTok that Bill doesn't actually care about his family/dimension or Stanford at all; that we're supposed to take everything in TBOB as non-canon basically because he's lying to garner sympathy from reader to make a deal with them. I'm all for having your own interpretations of media, but I just don't think this idea that Bill is a completely heartless unfeeling creature is supported by canon at all. In fact, it kind of feels like the opposite of the point of the book.

Like, yeah, most things Bill says should be taken with a grain of salt because he lies a lot, but he's not actually a very good liar? It's usually pretty easy to clock when he's full of it. But okay, even if we assume every word Bill says while trying to recruit the reader is a lie, there are three major things that this doesn't account for.

Bill is not the only source in the book. The lost Journal 3 pages were written by Stanford, we only know about the interdimensional Taco Bell incident because of an included police transcript, etc.

Even once he's lost any chance of making a deal with the reader to escape, Bill is having a complete breakdown and mentions all the people he so totally doesn't miss for real you guys. Why bother with reverse psychology double-lying for sympathy once his shot at getting the reader on his side is already gone?

Trying to garner the reader's sympathy makes sense to a certain extent, but why go out of his way to make himself look pathetic? Does revealing that he got drunk and cried over his ex in a fast-food drive-through really help his cause if that cause is to convince the reader he's still a powerful being capable of starting the apocalypse again so they can rule with him?

And that's all without even mentioning that, as previously stated, I think the entire point of the book is missed if we're interpreting Bill as having no genuine feelings or attachments. The book ends with Stanford healing from his past by being open about what he went through with his family and accepting their help, while Bill insists he doesn't need anyone and refuses to heal, actively making himself worse in the process. The clear theme imo is that accepting your past and accepting help from people who love you is essential to healing, while denying those things just makes everything worse. If Bill doesn't actually care about his family, his dimension, Stanford, or anything/anyone else, he has no trauma to heal from or regrets to learn from that he's refusing to accept and deal with, and the entire meaning of the book is made moot.

[ipiutiminelle-ec]

Annabeth as Odysseus. Both too smart, too cunning, with eyes that have seen to much and dreams too big for this world.

She dreams, sometimes, of the raging sea, of bloodied fields and weary soldiers. Of the warm sun and sand of an island that feels like home. When she wakes up, the memories tug at her mind, tantalisingly out of her reach. (When storms hit the shores of the camp, she hears the roar of waves against the beach echoing in the cabin and she hides under her covers, trembling and gasping in a fear she doesn’t understand).

The first time she meets Clarisse, a new camper with wild eyes and an angry scowl she nearly calls her Achilles. (The only one to notice her hesitation is Mr D. He looks pitying for a second before retreating behind his disdainful apathy).

Percy as Penelope. Both fiercely loyal, resilient and strong. To have them as friends, as lovers, is like having a home.

Percy who flinches at smelly Gabe’s voice, who sees other men superimposed with him, stronger, taller, familiar men. He feels dread and determination rise within him. He lifts his chin. Royalty never bows to anyone. (People forget Penelope came from Sparta after all. She has smiles full of teeth and a sword in her closet).

[katabay]

I haven’t drawn a character with a bowl cut since rock lee

[probablyasocialecologist]

A quarter of bosses admitted that they hoped return-to-office (RTO) mandates would lead to employees quitting, according to a new survey. Bamboo HR said that 25% of VP and C-suite executives and 18% of HR employees surveyed expected “voluntary turnover” of their employees after implementing RTO policies. That expectation isn’t totally unfounded. Twenty-eight percent of remote employees said they’d consider quitting their jobs if RTO policies occurred at their companies. But it appears fewer quit than the bosses wanted. Some executives even blamed layoffs on employees who didn’t quit after RTO policies were put in place, Bamboo said.

24 July 2024

[aromanticduck]

[typenonsense]

hey. hey. is anyone else thinking about how this is the first time skizz gets to properly mourn a teammate. is anyone else thinking about the fact that this is the first grave he can lay flowers at, the first eulogy he spoke.

[betterthanbatman1]

Instead of: Batman leaves Jason alone with Sheila in Bosnia

I give you: Batman leaves Jason alone at the checkout line to go grab the milk he forgot

[yumaisbored]

Xie Lian always describes Hua Cheng as so effortlessly handsome—as if that man hasn't been meticulously planning every single outfit XL sees for more than five hundred years... mf is making SURE the angle of that crooked ponytail is perfect

[plutonicbees]

"it's really me. is it really really really you?"

some yj19 konbart for @superfamilyweek day 2: across space or time/friends & teammates (kind of ended up fulfilling both??)

[cyanbeetle]

Trinity thesis