#i love a scruffy man whose blood is made of coffee

[crowroboros]

who's your babygirl? your pookie wookie? your favourite little guy?

there are a few candidates but right now no one has my mind in a trance quite like

Dale Donovan from Friends Vs Friends

I'm so normal about this man. SO normal. do not be fooled.

[whipped-stream]

I watched: The Night Manager

I find spy stuff a bit difficult really. It’s so smug - long, indulgently complicated stories chock-full of smart men in smart suits drinking man-drinks like whisky or martinis, surveilling each other out of the corners of their eyes, skulking around the charming alleyways of some architecturally opulent urban space. No one is ever insecure in a spy story; no one ever has a moment where they’re at a loss for words; no one ever has acne or eats a burger or even drinks a latte, because the only coffee appropriate for a spy story has to be something tight and elegant like an espresso. Oh, and very few people in these stories are ever female, fat (unless they’re evil) or gay (unless they’re evil).

Of course, this is all completely endemic to the genre. Asking for a spy thriller without these qualities would be like asking for a Judd Apatow comedy without a bunch of scruffy beardy blokes. But like - it’s 2021 now, and you’d think we would be gradually nearing the point where we were ready to retire all the tiresome, difficult stuff about the genre and do something new and interesting with it. Alas, The Night Manager has proved to me that we are nowhere near this possible future.

Don’t get me wrong, this is an enjoyable, easy show if you don’t think about it too much. It’s polished, gorgeous to look at and the basic plot revolving around illegal arms trading in the Middle East is absorbing, albeit a little toothless (for all the action and violence in the Middle East scenes we never really engage on any level with the human impact of this nefarious trade, besides one anecdote which never really lands). Tom Hiddleston and Hugh Laurie are both, predictably, also amazing in this show. Tom Hiddleston is perfect as a hotel manager; his earnest, twinkly-eyed politeness fits perfectly in the luxury hotels his character glides through, just as his luxury suits and luxury face suit the luxury décor. Then, as a secret services mole amongst gangsters, he is perfect again, charming everyone into smitten trust with a gleaming smile as they fall into the glacier-blue lagoons of his eyes, barely noticing him surreptitiously gathering all their secrets.

Hugh Laurie is as charismatic and sinister as a cartoon devil and makes for a terrific villain, fiercely dedicated to chewing the scenery at every opportunity. It is unclear to me why they chose to give him a sortof shabby Friar Tuck haircut for the role, but perhaps he is doing a Harrison Ford and just exerting his Great Actor Famepower to refuse to undergo any kind of personal grooming before a scene.

But yeah. Every time I was enjoying it, the dang show did something to ruin it. Firstly it was the ‘Bond women’. Sure, stunningly beautiful and sexually inviting women are a staple of this genre, and this show tries its best to show good faith by making sure that the stunningly beautiful and sexually inviting women in this instance have some kind of personality and plot relevance. It’s a pathetic effort at best. The first gorgeous woman chivvies the plot along for all of two minutes before flinging her fabulous self at Tom Hiddlestone and being a charming bedfellow just long enough for him to be distraught when he discovers her moments later in a pool of her own blood. Ahh, yes, a classic Woman in Refrigerator - gosh, I haven’t seen one of those employed with such efficiency in quite some time. Despite barely knowing her, Tom Hiddlestone is so devastated that he moves into some kind of massive concrete bunker right at the top of a Swiss Alpine mountain (what IS that house, dude!?!? Do you live in a weather monitoring facility?) and eventually agrees to become an agent for the secret services - which of course presents even more opportunities for some top totty.

The other stunningly beautiful woman in this show is in a relationship with the baddie played by Hugh Laurie, even though the two of them don’t so much have an age gap as an age chasm. She is called ‘Jed’, and she truly is only here for the camera to make long, indulgent pans up her svelte legs and delicate back. The show leaps at any opportunity to show a bit of her boob and at one point she fully disrobes and walks slowly and teasingly into the sea, pointing her arse right at Tom Hiddlestone, in order to make a point about living a carefree life. All the personal details about this woman are arbitrary - she has a kid that she never gets to see, I guess, and like she’s kind of suspicious of her boyfriend the arms dealer or whatever, but the show refuses to waste any time giving these story points any more than a cursory glance. Jed is a hollow, objectified character whose clothes fall off at the slightest jostle.

And then there’s the other thing. The torture thing. What is up with these spy shows? And how the only thing they love more than sexy women is the spectacle of sexy women being battered, tortured and lying dead in revealing poses? Just like her predecessor, poor Jed barely gets to do anything interesting or even proactive before she is ‘found out’ and we have to endure a really queasy scene where she’s being beaten up and repeatedly almost-drowned for her treachery. As her sore, blue-purple face is thrust over and over again into the brimming bathtub and she thrashes for air, her naked breast dangles out of her top in a tactless mush of raunchy objectification and vicarious misogyny. It’s one of the most troubling things I have witnessed on telly in a good while.

Okay - there is one other woman in this show. Olivia Coleman plays the head of this secret service operation, and she is written as a fierce, ambitious agent who knows exactly what she’s doing. Oh, and she’s pregnant, so I guess we’re doing Fargo too, a bit? For the entirety of the programme, which seems to span several months, she appears to be at the end of her third trimester. No one ever asks her when she’ll be going on maternity leave and who will take over this spy operation when that happens. As part of the final showdown, she travels to the Middle East, stalks around a hotel filled with murderous gangsters, shoots people in the knee and hides from even more murderous gangsters WHILE SEEMINGLY MOMENTS AWAY FROM HER FIRST CONTRACTION.

Essentially this woman’s pregnancy is a decorative character quirk, like having an eyepatch or an eccentric moustache. The story doesn’t let the character engage with her pregnancy in any human sense: and sure, the logistics of being pregnant is not exactly thrilling espionage content, but then why bother doing it at all? Leave her unpregged, and let her run around with guns to her heart’s content, or do it properly, and engage with interesting ideas of how we see and define modern motherhood; how we see pregnant women as vulnerable and in need of protection rather than being the protectors; how a woman’s career clashes and harmonises with her biological fate to be the child-bearer. Fargo did all that stuff effortlessly. Watch Fargo. The film, not the telly programme.

I also feel that it’s worth pointing out that this character was a man in the book, which makes it pretty clear that she was the hail-mary gesture to preempt any complaints that the only female main characters are bland eye-candy.

I have one last complaint. Remember that thing I said at the beginning about how the only gay characters allowed in this genre have to be evil? Well yeah, stamp that one on your bingo card too. I cannot believe that we are at a point in society where we can generate edible meat in a lab and yet the most frequent gay characters we see in mainstream TV are still either camp BFFs or acid-tongued villains. Tom Hollander is a completely wonderful actor and I urge you to watch basically anything else he has done besides this. There is no need for this character, Hugh Laurie’s snide and suspicious right-hand man, to be a creepy, predatory homosexual man. He is preposterous - constantly leering at Tom Hiddlestone and making blunt innuendos or just full-on grabbing Tom Hiddlestone’s giblets. A clear conflation is being made: this man is a threat, and the threat he poses to Tom Hiddlestone’s mission is mirrored by the threat he poses to Hiddlestone’s hetero-masculinity, his sexual autonomy. It feels like this character is a charicature of how homophobes see all gay men: malevolent and sexually rapacious, on a mission to assault, harass and render uncomfortable all hetero men who are just minding their own business.

I truly don’t understand this show - how they made such an effort to shoehorn so much deeply troubling messaging into a story which needed none of these things. The bare bones of the spy story is solid and it could have been turned out in so many different ways, but this was what they chose. It all feels so retrograde, so unnecessary. This is the kind of thing that Netflix would not have toyed with - whatever you feel about that streaming platform, they create stories with real, three-dimensional women and all kinds of diverse characters from the LGBTQ+ scene and beyond. Amazon Prime still needs to work on getting woke. But I guess we shouldn’t expect too much from the platform that snapped up Jeremy Clarkson.

The Night Manager, available on Amazon Prime

[mell-bell]

you are everything I want (but more than I deserve) - Part 1

Darcy Lewis x Bucky Barnes

AO3

Words: 1724                       

Series Summary: The first time Darcy met her soulmate she shot him. A relationship could only go up from there, right? Not when you pair together an ex-Hydra assassin and a woman with a penchant for trouble that could rival even his best friends

Chapter: 1/10

Author’s notes: I have 18 million other stories and I'm going into my senior year of college at the end of the month so why not start another story?! My updating schedule is gonna be slow but I will finish this (and my other stories!) Hope you enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy took a deep breath and planted her feet solidly on the ground before raising the gun. Her hands were steady; her breathing even, yet her finger itched hesitantly around the trigger.

She was just about to pull the trigger when she heard Natasha step up beside her, “No, малютка. Since you cannot see your target, taking too long will make you doubt yourself. Without sight, you must rely on muscle memory and your other senses. Soon it will become a second nature to you.”

Darcy nodded her head and she felt Natasha push her arms back down.

“Now. Again.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy moved into Avengers tower on a Saturday.

She lugged all her belongings with her, aka one suitcase, a guitar she couldn’t even play, her replica Captain America shield, and her stuffed kitten, Logan, 15 blocks to the tower.

She had been bribed into moving into the tower. She hadn’t wanted to move. She liked her own little apartment even though Jane often called it a death trap. But now she was moving. All because of Tony fucking Stark. That man would be the death of her.

Stark had hired Jane a month ago, much to her excitement. And when Darcy met him, she had immediately threatened to tase him as she had done Thor, if he took just one step out of line. He just replied with a smile and soon they were thick as thieves.

Within an hour of meeting they had already conspired to break into Fury’s office.

And when he found out that she was living in a 2 by 4 apartment, he had demanded that she move into his tower. After refusing for a month, Stark told her that if she moved he would pay off all of her student loans. She immediately refused but not a day later she received a notice that her bills had been paid. And so now she was moving into a tower. With superheroes.

When she arrived at the tower, she was quickly stopped at security. She argued with the guard for over a half hour before he received a text message, from Tony Stark himself, claiming that she was legit. The guard apologized before pointing her in the direction of the stairway and with an exasperated sigh Darcy began her trek up to the 16th floor. It wasn’t until she reached the fourth floor that a voice from the ceiling informed her that an elevator was located to her right. Without a second thought, Darcy praised the ceiling before clambering into the elevator.

The next hour was blurry. She remembered vaguely finding a door with her name on it, but she quickly fell asleep thereafter. It wasn’t until after her nap that she realized the ceiling had talked to her. Darcy cautiously asked who it was and Jarvis introduced himself.

To say that from that moment Jarvis and Darcy became best friends would be a vast understatement.

None of the Avengers were present in the tower and wouldn’t be back for a few more days. So with no one other than Jarvis to keep her company, they quickly bonded and Darcy spent most of the day conspiring with him. Stark had trained him well.

When not creating pranks with Jarvis, she spent the rest of her time decorating her new apartment room and hung up a whiteboard on the front of her door. Her room was on a floor with four other apartments. One was for Jane and Thor. Another was for somebody named Legolas, who she assumed was Hawkeye and not the character from Lord of the Rings. One just had an obvious spider sticker on it. And the last one was blank.

Since no other Avengers were present in the tower, not even Jane or Pepper, Darcy made herself at home. She took over the entertainment room and downloaded all of her favorite video games. She connected her Netflix to the huge theater TV screen. And she took over the kitchen. After asking Jarvis if any of the Avengers cooked, and receiving an almost amused “no” from the AI, Darcy decided to bake for everyone.

She made 5x the amount of food she normally would and left it in the freezer. Jarvis assured her that he would inform the Avengers of the food she made for them.

As the night grew closer, Darcy finished binge-watching her new obsession and she retired to her new bedroom and had one of the best nights sleep of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy didn’t think she would meet any of the Avengers for a few more days. But boy was she wrong.

That night, while she was sleeping, Natasha broke into her room and settled herself onto Darcy’s couch.

The next morning, Darcy clad in her Hulk pajamas, stopped short when she found the redheaded assassin sitting on her couch drinking her coffee.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you drinking my coffee?”

The woman in question put the mug down, before standing up and taking in the young woman in front of her.

“If I were Hydra you would have been dead 12 hours ago.”

“Well, at least I would’ve gone out happy. I had a dream I was getting some love from Captain America himself. Man his tongue…”

The woman’s face remained impassive, but Darcy swore she saw a little glint of amusement in her eyes, “I will train you.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow before nodding her head. The woman scrutinized her for a second longer before nodding and leaving the room.

“Hey, j-man.”

“Yes, Miss Darcy?”

“Who was that?”

“That was Miss Natasha Romanoff. Better known as the Black Widow.”

Well, that explains a lot.

Natasha’s idea of training was running 5 miles at 4 am and then retiring to the gym where they would weight train and fire guns until 8 am. Every morning, Darcy’s alarm would go off and she would drag herself out of bed, hair crazy and still half asleep. She would somehow make it down to the gym, where Natasha would promptly knock her on her ass.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Darcy met the rest of the Avengers one by one.

Clint shot her with a nerf gun. Multiple times. And when she complained to Natasha, she just told her that if she paid better attention during her training she would be able to avoid getting shot.

As the days passed, he kept shooting her. She never actually saw him. He was a ghost. According to Natasha, he only traveled by way of the air vents.

One day she was talking to a cute Agent in the hall and just as she was about to get to the date asking, a nerf dart shot out and whacked her right between the eyes.

“Clint!”

A chuckle echoed from the vents and Darcy swore in that moment that she would get her revenge.

After two weeks of torture, she was at her wit's end. So with the help of Jarvis, she locked all of the vents instead of one. The one that led to Stark’s private bathroom.

She knew the plan had come to compilation when Jarvis informed her that Mr. Barton had entered Mr. Stark’s suite bathroom while he was in the shower.

An hour later, a pale-faced Clint arrived at her door.

“Touché.”

Bruce met Darcy on a Tuesday.

She walked into Jane’s lab finding a scruffy man bent over a microscope.

“You’re scruffy and sexy and I want to adopt you.”

The man’s head snapped up his eyes wide as he took in the smiling woman in front of him.

And adopt him she did. Every few days she would drag him out for lunch and when they got back even though he would refuse to admit it, he always felt happier.

Captain American had been on a mission for Darcy’s whole first year in the tower. He was out looking for his best friend turned Hydra assassin.

Little did Darcy know one year into living in the tower, she would finally meet them both.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Focus, малютка.”

Darcy shook her head and quickly raised the gun again. This time instead of hesitating, her finger went straight to the trigger. But as she began to pull the trigger, the door to the gym slammed open and a loud shout caused her hand to jerk, igniting the gun.

Another loud shout rocked the room and Darcy ripped off her blindfold to see a gorgeous man standing in front of her, blood rolling down his arm.

The man glanced down at his bleeding arm before looking back up in disbelief at the woman in front of him.

“You shot me!”

Darcy’s mouth was wide open as her gaze swung from the man to Natasha, the words stuck in her throat. Her arms dropped down, her one hand gripping tight to the smoking gun, her other hand running over the top of her thigh. Those words….those words had been ingrained in her mind all her life. She hadn’t thought she would actually shoot somebody, she had figured it would’ve been a nerf dart or laser tag. That's why Clint had put her so on edge. It wasn't just the fact that he wouldn't stop shooting her but for the first few weeks, she swore he was her soulmate. But that was quickly forgotten when she shot him in the ass and he yelled at her saying that only he was allowed to shoot people in the ass because he was Cupid.

“What are the odds of you hitting his real arm instead of the one made of metal?” Natasha snorted.

Darcy turned pointing an accusing finger at Natasha, “I told you I wasn’t ready!”

Another man stepped into the room and immediately went right over to the bleeding man, “What happened?”

The man raised an eyebrow before gesturing to Darcy with an amused expression, “She shot me!”

The other man turned to face the blushing Darcy, whose eyes grew wide as she recognized the man. Captain America. She shot Captain America’s friend. Friend. She had shot Captain America’s Best Friend aka Hydra’s Best Assassin, who was also her soulmate. Just kill her now.

The Captain opened his mouth, but before he could speak Darcy ran up to him, ignoring the man beside him, not wanting to deal with that now, “It’s her fault! I am so so sorry. I knew I would hurt someone. But someone,” she threw a glare at Natasha, “said I needed to be taught.”

“If it helps, I didn’t think you’d actually shoot anybody,” Natasha said with a smirk.

Without warning, a laughing Clint dropped down from a nearby vent, “Oh, I can’t wait for Stark to see this footage.”

“He already has,” Stark said sauntering in the room with a smirk. He walked by the bleeding man, whacking him on the back, “You’re even worse with women than Capsicle is.”

The Captain rolled his eyes and turned to say something but was once again cut off when Stark turned to Darcy, “Spawn! Thank you for doing what I wish I had done weeks ago!”

Darcy glared at Stark, “Tony, shooting people isn’t nice. We’ve already had this conversation.”

The bleeding man scoffed, “Says the girl that shot me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No you didn’t- wait.” His eyes widened as his hand flew to his ribs, Darcy’s eyes following, knowing that her words were there. But before he could say another word, she was already halfway out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PART 2

[winterhawkbigbang]

Winterhawk Mini Bang

Here it is folks all the works from the minibang! All the fics have art accompanying them. Take a look through these works and give the authors and artists some love. Please remember to check the archive warnings and be sure to read all the tags before you start reading.

Standby (T) Words: 2,387 by @mollynoble

Tags: AU - Modern Setting, Veteran Bucky, Veteran Clint, brief mention - anxitey

Clint and Bucky meet when they become trapped in an elevator. Clint is an idiot, but Bucky likes him anyways.

[Art] by @torii-storii

birdboy and grumpycat17 (T) Words: 2,020 by @varilia

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Interplanetary Travel, "The Space Between Us" AU

Clint was born on Mars. Only, like, two people on Earth know that, and his best-- only-- friend, James, is not one of them. When given the opportunity to visit Earth, and therefore James, Clint is eager to tell James the truth: about where he's from, and the fluttery feelings that he gets whenever talking to James.

[Art] by @sian1359

Americana is for Lovers (M) Words: 8,232 by @ccbytheseashore

Tags: road trips, americana, sexual content, developing relationships, getting together

Please tell me you are still alive, read Steve's text. In Virginia, Bucky replied. The hell are you doing in Virginia? Would you believe me if I said trying to find a foam sculpture of Stonehenge? Tony said to make sure his car comes back in once piece. Please don't shoot each other.

Clint and Bucky set off on an adventure to find an infamous work of Americana history, but find literally everything else (including love, and a Magic Fingers) instead.

[Art] by @bvckyboy

My Depths for You (M) Words: 7,287 by @shellsxo

Tags: Domestic Fluff; Domestic!Bucky; Domestic!Clint; Anniversary

Somewhere down the line, Bucky Barnes had become the sun, and Clint's life had begun revolving around him. Neither had expected their feelings to become so strong, to grow in strength or in depth. But it had.

Lilac Alstroemeria Aster (T) Words: 7,303 by @jenjo93

Tags: No powers AU. Bucky works at a flower shop; Clint is a human disaster by day, vigilante by night

On the surface, Clint Barton shares nothing with Bucky Grant, the cute florist he helped save from thieves. Bucky has a business, owns more than one outfit, and looks to have a stable life. Worlds away from Clint's drama-filled past. Bucky being kidnapped reminds Clint why he doesn't put his heart on the line anymore.

[Art] by PlaidHunters

Edge of our Hope (T) Words: 5,956 by @punxbarton

Tags: Pacific Rim AU, mention of past character death, mention of past loss of limb

Nobody wonders whether Clint and Bucky are drift compatible. They clearly are. Which is the problem, since Clint already has a drift partner, and Bucky can't ever pilot again. Well, it's the problem for some people. Not for them. Never for them.

[Art] by @bizrreer

Still Breathing (T) Words: 8,241 by @victorianbreaker

Tags: Canon-typical Violence, vague Mentions of suicidal thoughts, blood

Clint just wanted to get away. He didn't want to hurt any one. But he keeps seeing blue...I dodged a bullet and I walked across a landmine / Oh, I'm still alive / Am I bleeding am I bleeding from the storm? / Just shine a light into the wreckage, so far away, away...'Cause I'm still breathing / 'Cause I'm still breathing on my own / My head's above the rain and roses / Making my way away / My way to you

[Art] by @theassassinhawk

Not Such a Risk (M) Words: 3,311 by @aw-hawkeye-no

Tags: Dom/Sub, Bondage, dom!Clint, sub!Steve, Sub!Bucky

"Buck, I gotta ask -- are you here of your own free will, or did Clint kidnap you and force you to watch Dog Cops?” Steve smirked as he glanced from Bucky to Clint.“Hey!” Clint objected just as Bucky said, “Bit of column A, bit of column B.”Clint huffed indignantly. “As I remember it, I was minding my own business when you barged in here and started questioning my eating habits.”

Or, Clint has been acting as Steve's and Bucky's dom for weeks now, but the three of them have never done a scene together.

[Art](nsfw)by @xbittenx

Save Me. (T) Words: 4,867 by @hodginsismylife

Tags:  Not Captain America: The Winter Soldier Compliant, Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence.

Clint Barton just wanted an easy recovery after being braiwashed, he didn't want to be kidnaped by HYDRA, he didn't ask for any of this.

[Art] by @marvel-4-life

How to Mate Your Cyborg (G) Words: 2,092 by @nightshadezombie

Bucky and Hagrid spend every Tuesday and Thursday morning at the Midnight Roast, studying and sampling Wade's questionable baked goods. And maybe pining over Wade's Other Favorite Cyborg. BTW, Wade totally ships it, guys.

[Art] by fitzz106

 The deals you  made (T) Words: 6,321 by @aijja

Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, AU-Canon Divergence, Fae & Mythical Beings

Bucky is ten when he meets a boy who helps him win a prize for Steve. There's handshake to agree to a contract, due sometime in the future. They never meet again. Or at least, Bucky doesn't remember it.

AKA. Don't make deals with people who appear from thin air.

[Art] by @sian1359

Through the Streets of Long Gone Dreams (T) Words: 10,937 by @rivulet027

Tags: Nightmares, PTSD, Recovering Memories

Bucky’s having trouble sleeping until Lucky decides to adopt him. Now Bucky isn’t sure if he’s sleeping better because of a dog or the archer that comes with the dog.

[Art] by @placna

This Is Where We Start Again (G) Words: 3,377 by @jeminamoonnight

Tags: Kidfic, Accidental baby acquisition, body dysphoria, deaf!Clint

When Clint brings home a baby and wants to keep her, Bucky must confront his  lingering body issues and whether or not he’s ready for the challenges of parenthood. 

[Art] by @fee-does-band-art

Empyrean (T) Words: 2,694 by @icantseemtomiss

Tags: Minor violence, mentions of past abuse. Alternate Universe- Greek,Mythology.

There’s plenty of things you get taught how to handle; like your pet hamster dying, or your girlfriend breaking up with you. But no-one ever teaches you how to handle the Greek god, Apollo, attaching himself to your soul.

[Art] by @pathulu

I Slept With An Assassin and Now I Have Feelings (T) Words: 3,911 by @useless-empty-brain

Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, mentions of brainwashing, getting together.

Years ago Clint and the Winter Soldier are given the same target and meet. Instead of eliminating the competition, the Soldier is intrigued by the disaster who beat him to the target. Through years of mind wipes disjointed images of blond and arrows keep coming back. When he breaks the mind control permanently, he wants to find Steve and the guy who kept sneaking around Hydra's mind wipes.

[Art] by @mariana-oconnor

Like That Counting Crows Song (T) Words: 4,643 by @madetobeworthy

Tags: No Warnings, fluff, mutual healing, slow burn but it forgot to be slow

Clint's life is a series of unfortunate events that somehow peaked at his apartment getting blown up. Bucky doesn't really want to get caught up in his mess, but it's hard to avoid the homeless guy sleeping on your couch when all you want to do is watch Netflix.

[Art] by @girlouttaplace

Springfield (T) Words: 1,779 by @precise-desolation

Tags: Slow build, Service dogs, PTSD

There was a man who walked  his dog every morning in the park where Clint went for his run.  Of course, Clint knew that was perfectly normal.  It was the dog's service animal vest that caught his attention.  He had the guy figured for ex-military, he just hadn't figured him for the Winter Soldier, the ghost sniper.  Or, well, former Winter Soldier.  It was a spur of the moment decision to buy the guy a coffee from the stand they both frequented.  He had wanted to ask about the dog.  He didn't expect that it would become anything more.

[Art] by @mollynoble

Words Left Unsaid (M) Words: 2,067 by @i-will-always-kneel-for-smut

Tags: Swearing, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant

Clint agreed to an afternoon sparring session with Natasha. Little did he know that by the end of the day he'd be responsible for a former Hydra agent...and one of Steve Rogers oldest friends.

[Art] by @meesedraw

The Barton-Barnes shelter of abandoned animals (G) Words: 1,960 by @asamandra

Tags: barton farm, clint and his strays

For once it's not Clint who brings in another stray... and Clint is not amused when he finds out what kind of stray it is.

[Art] by @aw-hawkeye-no

As Lucky Would Have It. (T) Words: 6,698 by @dapperanachronism

Tags: Fluff, Angst, Get-Together, Anxiety, Lucky is the best dog,

He tells himself a lot of things. Things like he's not a burden, things like he's getting better, things like he's awake in the middle of the night by choice, just because he enjoys prowling around the tower at night when it's quiet. It's the truth, if not the whole truth. What is also the truth is how much he enjoys finding Clint curled up on the living room floor next to a scruffy dog that Bucky knows doesn't live in the tower with them.

[Art] by @placna

Just a Fool (Whose Luck Has Turned) (E) Words: 4,965 by @words-aremy-weapons

Tags:  Second-hand embarrassment

Clint makes a fool of himself over the comms during a mission, going into vivid detail of everything he feels for Barnes. Embarrassment makes him hide away, until Barnes forces him to come clean about everything.

[Art] by  PlaidHunters

Strike at the Heart of (T) Words: 20,528 by @captn-sara-holmes

Tags: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Clint Barton Feels, Everyone Has Issues, unhealthy platonic relationships, Trust Issues, Emotional Manipulation, Angst and Humor, BAMF Clint Barton, Mind Games. Mind Control, Yasha, STRIKE!Clint, Clint is actually fine, psychological evaluations are not for everyone

The Avengers think he's traumatized, Fury thinks he needs a break, Natasha wants him to recover. Well, screw those guys. Clint is going to go and make some new friends that appreciate how badass and competent and not-messed-up-after-Loki he is. It goes great, until it doesn't.

[Art] by @cratercreator

The Broken and The Brave (T) Words: 5,892 by @somnambulist-x

Clint Barton is acquitted after killing the Hulk.No, after killing Bruce Banner.After killing his friend.And Bucky could understand Barton’s next move and as the archer left the city and drove west in his disastrous Dodge Challenger, Bucky grabbed his backpack, hopped on his bike and followed him.He wasn’t going to stop Barton, he wasn’t going to catch him and bring him back…He was simply going with.

[Art] by @mollynoble

5 Times an archer walked into a bar (And one time the bar came to him) (T) Words: 1,553 by @adamsgirl42

Twist on the film "He's just not that into you"

[Art] by @bizrreer

Dog Cops, Pickpockets, and Love, Oh my! (E) Words:3,634 by PlaidHunter

Tags: sex, blow jobs, rimming, cute dog cops, star wars

“I stole your wallet because I was desperate for money a few years ago and I’ve finally gotten my life under control but the guilt hasn’t left me because you looked like a really sweet person so I went to the address on your driver’s license to return it and apologize but when you answered the door you took one look at me and shouted, “YOU!” and punched me in the face!"

[Art] by @fadesealcat

Five dates Bucky didn't realize he went on, and the one he planned himself (T) Words: 11,750 by @redsector-a

Tags: Oblivious Bucky, Slow Build Romance, Bucky Feels, Clint is a good boyfriend (even when Bucky doesn't know he's his boyfriend), Steve Rogers is a Good Bro, Fluff

To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it. Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.

[eurusholmmes]

Where My Heart Used To Be// Sherlock Holmes

This prompt is super sad, and I used to be so good at angst but I’m not sure if this’ll justify my previous talents. I hope you all enjoy! Anything in Italics is the mother (which is also you) and in the flashback with the child birth, Mary and John are not married yet. 

Requested by @foureyedsiopao: Being Sherlock Holmes daughter is one of the most tragic parts of your story. You never knew what happened to your mother but be it as it were, Mary and John Watson have adopted you as their own daughter. But every night you woke up having the same dream... A dream that includes the man who left you behind. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

  “Sherlock, take a look at me and use your deduction skills. What do you see?” 

Sherlock looked up from his laptop to his wife standing in the kitchen, wearing one of his dress shirts and low hanging sweat pants. Her face was clear of makeup and her fingers were wrapped around the rim of her favorite tea cup. “I see that you’re breath taking.” He said lowly, wrapping his fingers around your hips. “And you’re not drinking your normal coffee. Your clothes are baggy and low hanging-” 

A soft smile spread across your face as you set your cup down on the table in the center of the room, cupping his cheek in your small hands. Hands that had memorized his body through the darkest hours of the night, hands that had held him as he cried over the uncertainty of his their future. “You’re getting warmer, Detective.” You whispered. “Lower your hands.” 

His hands fell to your stomach, and in that moment, it seemed to click all at once. “You-Are you pregnant?” Sherlock murmured in disbelief, his smile widening as you nodded eagerly. “We’re going to be parents.” 

  “You’re going to be a father, Sherlock Holmes!” 

You woke up in a cold sweat, your y/h/c plastered to your cheeks as you slowly began to control your frantic breathing. The air in your room was chilled from the open window, the only source of light coming from the hallway where Mary normally left the light on at night. “Y/n, sweetheart? Are you alright?” 

Mary Watson stepped into your bedroom dressed in her nightgown, tying her red robe around her body. You lifted your head from in between your knees and tilted your head, studying her up and down. It was quite obvious you weren’t her biological child, but she and John had passed you off to be their own and it was exactly what you needed. 

  “I keep having this dream about the same man and woman. I’m not sure why..” You rested your hand over your heart and sighed deeply. “It’s like they’re engraved into my heart, and they simply won’t leave.” 

Sherlock redistributed his weight between his knees as John watched him pace the length of the waiting room. He’d caused enough ruckus in the delivery room that they had kicked him out just as you had begun to push. “I’m sure she’s alright, Sherlock. It’s normal for women to scream during birth. Take it from a doctor who knows.” 

He opened his mouth to respond when the screaming suddenly ceased and was replaced with the cries of an infant. Both men lifted their heads to the door where the nurse stood. “Mr Holmes? Would you like to meet your daughter?” 

It was the first time Sherlock cried in front of John. And it was also the first time John Watson witnessed Sherlock fall head over heels in love in just a second when his daughters fingers wrapped around his own. 

You had always been good at observing, but the older you got, the better you were. It wasn’t until your three year anniversary of being in the Watsons care that you finally began to question just who the man and woman constantly haunting your dreams were. 

  “What aren’t you telling me dad?” You cried, drawing Johns attention away from Mary and to you standing in the doorway. “Why do I keep having these dreams?! I know I’m obviously not your child judging from the observation that I obviously don’t look like you or Mum. The man and woman in my dreams.. I look exactly like them.” Tears ran down your face as you pounded at your chest and slowly sank to your knees. “Why do these people keep hurting me?” 

  “Oh y/n, you truly do have the mind of a Holmes.” 

Sherlock had the nagging fear of imminent loss in the back of his mind for months, but he had never expected it to come this far. You were forced on your knees in front of him, a gun pressed to the back of your head. The cool metal was taunting against your clammy skin, but you could never take your eyes off your husband. He would save you. He always did. 

  “You didn’t follow the rules of the game Sherlock.” Jim taunted, dancing around your hunched over form as your fingers dug into the dirt. “I’ve been thinking about how to punish you for months, and then it came to me!” He clucked his tongue and you let out a whimper as he slid the slide back on his handgun. “Why not use your gorgeous, clever wife? It’s sure to break you more then me taking your perfect daughter. But how to do it?” 

You weren’t afraid of dying. Dying was the easy part; it was the life Sherlock would have to live with your daughter once you were gone that terrified you. Your daughter was nearly ten years old now, but you had made sure she was unaware of the level of crimes that Sherlock often found himself involved in. She called him her superhero. 

  “I vote we just take one for the team!” Moriarty taunted. “You have any final words to rectify your mistake Sherlock? I mean, it’s not like you’re going to see your wife again.” 

Sherlock lifted his head and locked eyes with you, his cupids bow lips pressed against together as he thought of what to say. “Tick tock, tick tock Sherlock Holmes!” 

  “Y/n... I love you.” 

The last memory of you that would be engraved into his brain was your fingers stretched out towards him as the bullet pierced your skull, your once bright y/e/c eyes staring blankly into space. 

You hadn’t even gotten to say your goodbye. But your hands.. those hands he loved, they had reached for him. Because he was supposed to save you, and he didn’t.

You curled up in Johns arms, your legs stretched out over Marys lap as John explained your dreams to you. “The man you keep seeing in your dream, do you look like him?” He murmured softly, running his fingers through your hair. You closed your eyes and in a moment, your mind palace was in front of your eyes. 

A younger version of yourself was standing in a scruffy flat, most of the furniture spread out over an area rug that occupied most of the room. There was a weathered skull on top of endless amounts of papers on the mantle piece. There was a homely smell in the flat that made your insides warm. 

The flat made you happy. It reminded you of something you never thought you’d have- your own home. 

An older man with raven curls stood by the window, an violin poised in his hands as he composed a somber sounding piece. His blue eyes nearly mirrored your own- haunted and broken but resilient and daring. You walked circles around him, studying his tall form and chiseled features.

  “Yes. The man looks like like me. Everything about him looks like me.” 

John inhaled sharply as he suddenly realized what you were actually doing, going through your mind palace. Unlike Sherlock, your mind palace happened to be one of the places that meant the most to you. 221B. “Your father is a dangerous man who has interacted with equally dangerous people in the past. There was one man above all who was criminally insane, and the man who murdered your mother. Your father... He couldn’t deal with the loss of your mother, so he entrusted you to us and we took you in as our daughter. You were old enough to retain memories, but we didn’t talk about your family and you were soon under the impression that we were actually your parents. But we can’t keep a Holmes mind asleep for long. Seems you figured it out.”

You screwed your eyes tightly shut as you struggled to comprehend the fact that the man who had literally helped to create you was the same man who had willingly given you up. “I want to meet him. I want him to know that you and Mum fill the space where my heart used to be. He deserves to know the pain he caused.” 

(AN: this is now about his daughter)

One of the most painful things Sherlock Holmes ever had to do was give you up. His blood daughter, his princess, the one person who still had some inkling of faith left in him. 

Sherlock knelt down in front of you and gripped your tiny hands in his own, kissing the back of your knuckles as John and Mary left the living room to gather your things. “Y/n my love, you’re going to go away for a little while. But I want you to know that everything is going to be okay, alright?”

Your lips quivered as tears ran down your face, your arms wrapped around his neck as he stood to his feet. “When is Mummy coming home?” You cried, burying your face as deep in his neck as you could. Sherlock repressed the urge to sob at the mention of his passed wife, whose funeral he had deliberately scheduled for tomorrow after you left. “I don’t want to go Daddy! I’m supposed to be your sidekick!” 

  “Every sidekick has to have a day off, just like a superhero.” Sherlock kissed your cheek and managed a strong smile despite the pain rocketing through his soul, his heart, his very being. “I love you y/n. Can you be a good girl for me?” 

You nodded weakly and glanced behind you where Mary and John were waiting. “I’ll be back soon, okay? Don’t fight crime without me Daddy!” 

You had been so naive, so clueless, and so horribly wrong. Despite the abiding pain in his heart, Sherlock Holmes was a man who needed his daughter to come home. 

Sherlock had been getting ready to leave the flat to go to Scotland Yard when he came face to face with John and Mary right outside Speedys Cafe. They had given no warning that they were coming, but the moment the two of them parted, he felt his heart stop. “John? What are you doing here?” 

John glanced at Mary through his peripheral vision and slowly exhaled, parting the wall to reveal your form standing behind them. You’d matured so much in the few years they’d kept Sherlock away from you. “I kept wondering who the man and woman in my dreams were. They looked so happy and so in love that it was almost painful to watch. There was screaming, so much screaming and so much pain that I could feel your despair. Your suffering.” Sherlocks eyes never left yours as you now stood inches away from him, your hand stretched outward to rest on top of his heart. “It took me a while, but I put it together.” Tears filled his eyes as you lifted your head (he was still so much taller then you) and smiled widely. “Hello Daddy. Did you miss me?”

Sherlock gasped so loudly as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck as the two of you stumbled on the sidewalk together. It had been a long time since he’d felt whole. “I did miss you love.” He murmured, burying his face in your neck as you mussed with his hair. “You look so much like your mum.. It’s remarkable.” 

He set you down on the sidewalk and followed your gaze up to the main window in 221B. “Can we go back to fighting crime now?” You puffed out your chest and gripped your hips, just like the superheroes did in all the movies. 

Sherlock grinned widely as he hopped up onto the stoop and threw open the door. “After you, my dear!” 

Dear Daddy,

No matter where I go or who I love, you will always be the man who holds my heart. And I will always be the one who helps carry your cape. Fighting crimes to the ends of the Earth forever.

Always yours, y/n Holmes 

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