i never learned how to miss!

                       All  he  has  to  do  to  aerate  the  milk  is  tilt  the  pitcher.  Or  was  it…not  to  tilt  the  pitcher?  It’s  only  his  first  week  working  at  The  Cat’s  Meow  and  he’s  already  spilled  more  drinks  than  he  can  afford.  Simon  thought  this  would  be  EASY,  but  making  lattes  is  a  lot  harder  than  it  looks.  There’s  all  these  things  you  have  to  keep  in  mind,  like  the  temperature,  the  angles  of  your  pitcher,  the  seconds  it  takes  to  aerate.  All  of  these  things  that  Simon  is  somehow  supposed  to  MEMORIZE  on  the  go.  who  learns  like  this.

                        He  awkwardly  smiles  at  the  customer  waiting  on  the  other  side  of  the  bar.  The  frothing  noise  only  gets  louder  and  that  definitely  doesn’t  sound  right.  Simon  makes  an  attempt  to  pull  the  nozzle  back  up  but  all  that  does  is  cause  the  milk  to  disperse,  and  SPILL  all  over  himself  as  well  as  the  floor…and  the  counter…and  the  waiting  customer.

                        ❝ I’m  so  sorry.  I  didn’t.  I  didn’t  mean  to  do  that.  I’m  NEW.  I’m-  There’s  someone  that  should  be  here  up  front  with  me. ❞ He  gulps  and  reaches  for  a  clean  rag  and  hands  it  over  to  the  customer.  ❝ I’ll  make  it  again.  Or  give  you  a  refund,  if  you’d  like. ❞  / @dualitynews​

//

His primary role at THE CAT’S MEOW is the baker and pastry chef but Clint is capable of helping out the baristas if they were short-staffed or needed anything. He likes to view them all as family which might be the reason behind always showing up early. He genuinely enjoys working here and getting to flex his skills in the kitchen. His arms are carrying a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to put in the display case but came a moment too late it seems. There was a latte spilled all over the counter and the customer waiting.

They’ve all been there.

The blond is carefully, yet quickly putting the muffins out alongside the powdered french vanilla ones that were leftover from the morning. “I’ll put this back in the kitchen and come stay out here with you until one of the other baristas come back. How does that sound?” Clint smiles while leaning against the counter and holding up the rack he carried the baked product out on. He’s heading back to place it in the sink, telling himself that he’ll wash it later. His main focus was helping out Simon. He wipes his hands on his apron and stands next to the boy. “We’ve all been new. It’s okay, I PROMISE.”

✮ ✮ ✮

Bucky doesn’t want to think about his own memories for a million different reasons. He doesn’t want to have to keep reliving these moments again and again until he’s got no room in his head to think about nothing but all his wrong doings. So instead he’ll focus on Clint’s suffering because Bucky isn’t the only person in this relationship. He’s not the only one hurting here Clint is having a hard time coping too and Bucky will throw himself into caring for his husband because that’s what he does best. If Bucky can pride himself on one thing it’s how he cares about his husband, so Bucky will force the thoughts from his mind. He squares his jaw like he’s about to go into battle and maybe he is but not with another person. But the fears that he knows Clint is having. Despite it being the last thing he wants to do with a hand created to kill, Bucky reaches up to wipe tears from Clint’s face. Maybe it’s a good thing to do with a weapon of destruction, use it for something kind and comforting. Spitting in the face of Hydra, using their favorite toy to comfort not to harm.  “And if he is out there somewhere, he won’t lay another finger on you ever again. I won’t let that happen. I’m here now and you never have to face him again.” His own voice is a little more shaky than he’d like. He wasn’t to be stable, and to carry Clint’s burdens because those are something he rather focus on. But the problem is Clint is a good man, he won’t just let the subject drop – and Bucky has gotten lucky in both lives to have somehow convinced this good man to even give him the time of day much less marry him. The warmth from Clint’s body is comforting and grounding. It helps fight that chill that wants to freeze him like it once did, but that warmth fights it. Clint fights it for Bucky even without realizing. “We don’t even have to leave bed.” Which… is mostly true. They’ll have to get up eventually to take Lucky out but that’s worth leaving bed for and well – it’s not like Lucky won’t come right back to bed anyways. So they won’t have to leave their comfort long.

Bucky’s own eyes close feeling those gentle fingers press against his eyes, catching tears that threaten to fall. He tries to focus but flashes behind his eyelids make his eyes shoot open again. Anytime he shuts his eyes something plays like a broken film reel and leaves Bucky in shattered pieces. “I don’t know how I fooled you into thinking I’m a good man.” The words a bit choked around sad laughter. “But either way, I’m lucky you fell for it. I don’t know what I would do without you, especially now.” 

//

There are so many awful experiences to reflect on . . . including the time Kazimierz Kazimierczak came after him due to accepting a contract to apprehend him. Clint must have been good at getting under people’s skin in this other life but that might just be a constant throughout all his lifetimes. Blissful ignorance leading to being thrown into unfortunate circumstances at times. Kazimierz picked up two of his arrows and shoved them into his ears. This would permanently deafen him. Why didn’t he finish the job? Did Kingpin think that this would make him retire? It didn’t. The blond stubborn as they come and overcame any obstacle that came his way. What else could the universe throw at him though? It seems some form of reincarnation is another event to add onto the list. Clint doesn’t even know where to begin organizing all the missions he went on with this government funded team and with his friends. What kind of name is THE AVENGERS, anyway?   The feeling of his husband wiping the tears off of his cheeks is a welcomed distraction. He could focus on this instead of the information overload. Clint doesn’t care what these memories were telling him. He’ll always look at Bucky’s hands and trust them to treat him kindly. “Thank you . . .” It makes him smile a little, feeling better already with the reassurance. “Jacques promised me that he wouldn’t hit me like all my other parental figures before him did. He promised to he different and broke it. He hurt me all the same.” Clint sighs for a moment as it all comes back to him. This isn’t only about him but it feels good to have someone that’s willing to listen. Eventually they’ll have to leave the comfort of their sheets and take Lucky outside. Maybe some fresh air would do them both some good? The food bowls can be filled and then the Barnes family can retreat back to bed. All circumstances considered this is the best way they can spend today. The rest of the world can wait. All that really matters is being right here. “I’d like that . . . we should stay here long as we can until Lucky is trying to drag us outside by pulling the blankets off.” Even with such somber emotions being felt Clint finds a way to chuckle for a couple seconds.

Maybe sleep isn’t going to happen so easily for either of them. There’s a certain fear in reliving more traumatic pieces of his life. He doesn’t want any of it . . . and needed to focus in on anything else. “I’m no fool. I KNOW you’re a good man. I love you and married you to be here with our good days AND the bad ones. We’re in this together. You aren’t alone. I don’t know what I’d do without you either. I don’t understand any of this . . . but I’m glad it seems like we always have each other in every universe.” Clint wouldn’t allow himself to believe anything different.

[ @abductedpocts​ / FOR DANDELION! ]

[ @honeyveins​ / FOR MARINETTE! ]

[ @ofunwrittens​ / FOR LILY! ]

✮ ✮ ✮

Longing. ( Screams. ) Rusted. ( Hopelessness. ) Seventeen. ( Inevitable. ) Daybreak. ( Pain. ) Furnace. ( Struggle. ) Nine. ( Wrath. ) Benign. ( Blank. ) Homecoming. ( Fight. ) One. ( Silence. ) Freight car. ( Ready to comply. )

10 words. 10 words just keep repeating in Bucky’s head over and over again. Each time he hears them new memories resurface. Memories that contain nothing but horror. Atrocities committed by his own hands, stained red – no not stained. Dripping. A metaphorical blood trail follows in his footsteps, just dripping red onto a white marble floor that his not so delicate feet crack. These memories haunt him even in his waking hours, and Bucky is too scared to sleep. He doesn’t want to be immersed in them with no escape, reliving memories he doesn’t want. He doesn’t want to be this man, this winter soldier. He was to be the man from Alucard. The man with the home in a little town. But this man never existed, it was a twisted façade – a cruel one. The only solstice in this is Clint.

Clint is no stranger, never has been. Here, nor in the life that is rushing through his head. He remembers long nights on roof tops where they’d share coffee that Clint brought or stealing Clint’s fries from whatever fast food place he stopped at before. A man with his own horrors – different ones. Ones he’s told Bucky about in stories of thievery and high wires. Bucky sees those horrors as badges of honor, perseverance to survive. Bucky’s are scars, a forcible fate with no escape. No, no escape, only sweat that drips down his spine despite a chill that starts at his feet. Crawling up his legs – and consuming him until he’s nothing but solid ice. Yet he still has a heartbeat. These all consuming thoughts are cut short – a shout from his husband next to him startles Bucky. Eyes wide and vacant as he stares down at the man, usually he’d comfort right away but he feels distant like he’s watching a scene unfold from behind a screen. It takes a moment to shake that feeling. A breath is gasped in like he wasn’t breathing before this moment. “Just a dream honey, he can’t hurt you here.” Bucky makes sure that the hand is taken is his flesh one. While it’s committed crimes, it was not fashioned to be a weapon. No cold metal would harm Clint. “Yeah, yes. I don’t want to go anywhere.” The very idea of going out in public right now distresses him. “Clint…” The name is broken as he stares at his husband, icy eyes welling up. “I don’t want these memories… I can’t..” He doesn’t even know how to finish his sentence.

//

His life hasn’t gone without traumatic events — losing his parents at a young age and then the accident that caused him to lose his hearing were the two main events that shaped his life. Although these new influx of memories were so much more  . . . it doesn’t feel like the life he knew. The Barton family were from Alucard. He knew this to be true . . . that small house they all lived in together growing up had felt cramped at times but it was home. Although they moved into an apartment when the brothers were on their own after the car accident their parents died in. According to the memories from this other life . . . he wasn’t from Alucard at all. How could that be true? He traveled around in a circus his entire life? He became some masked hero which only existed in comic books or any fiction really. What kind of name is Hawkeye? The idea of helping people seems nice . . . that part Clint agrees with. Bucky being a constant in all of his lifetimes brings him peace among the terror being felt. He has so much to work through, so much to come to terms with but it’s all starting with Jacques.

He takes into consideration that Bucky is going through all of this too. They’re both trying to figure out what these new memories mean and how they’re supposed to live with it. He doesn’t know the details but he remembers some of what his husband has been through in this other life. Clint just wants to be here for him, not forcing him to talk about it but wrapping his arms around Bucky to keep him safe. Nobody allowed to come hurt him again and remind him that he’s good. So good. They’re both scarred, plagued by doing horrible things and horrid tragedies but they can come out on the other side, right? The blond feels relief in waking up, familiar surroundings of their home in Alucard. The home renovated to fit their needs and picked out since it has so much space to it. Maybe there’s relief in Bucky knowing what he’s talking about. “He can’t hurt me here but what if he’s out there somewhere? I was falling off the high wire when I woke up . . . but I remember how it ended. I broke my legs but survived the fall . . .” He takes a deep breath while a few tears rolling down his cheeks. Clint squeezes the hand in his, pressing his body up against Bucky to be so close. “I like that idea. . . not going anywhere.” His eyes gazing at Bucky, paying attention to each word. “Baby, I know. I know you don’t want these memories. I don’t want mine either but I’m here for you. You’re good.  I don’t care what you’ve done. You’re a good man and I can’t be convinced of otherwise.” His free hand wiping away the tears welling up in his husbands eyes. “I’ll spend my lifetime reminding you if I have to.”

All the memories of his past life coming back to him all at once had been overwhelming. Some aspects of his two lives are the same — being married to Bucky is one of the things that hasn’t changed. Every lifetime they’re destined to find each other, no matter the circumstances. Which is enough to make him smile among all of the traumatic memories that came pouring in. He tossed and turned for a while until finally falling asleep but Clint didn’t sleep well. He doesn’t know where to begin processing all of this . . . but it all begins with a nightmare about his foster father. They were in the circus together in another lifetime. The blond just a young child when he joined the troupe. Jacques had been kind to him but sometimes looks can be deceiving. He was a criminal and didn’t want Clint telling anyone about his schemes so one day when the boy was up on the high wire . . . a sword was hurled up to cut it. He survived the fall but his nightmare was all about reliving that night. Clint screamed as tears rolled down his cheeks but his body jolted awake before hitting the ground. “JACQUES, NO!” His hands clutching at the sheets . . . something that rarely happens to him but considering everything that happened maybe it would be expected.

His eyes look around the room, realizing where he is and it’s a relief that wasn’t happening again. It was enough to make him relax, looking over at his husband who clearly hasn’t slept. “I’m sorry . . . I was having a bad dream but it was more than that . . . it was a memory of when my foster father cut the high wire from under my feet. Apparently I grew up in the circus for almost twenty years. It explains a few things doesn’t it?” He manages to laugh but reaches over to hold Bucky’s hand, squeezing the palm gently.  “Baby? How about we just stay home today? I don’t want to see anyone else, only you.”

Always too much of a morning person, Clint walked into the Cat’s Meow with a rather bright smile on his face as usual. His fingers pulling the sunglasses off his eyes and resting them over a mess of blond hair. There was a cup of coffee in his other hand that was brewed at home and thrown into his travel mug — which is a vibrant purple design that matches the shade of his hearing aids. Once spotting Marinette his free hand raises to wave while approaching her. They’ve developed a sibling-like dynamic since Clint started working here and looks after her. “Good Morning, Mari! I’m so glad you’re here . . . I was hoping to catch you before we open and have you to try these scones I made. I went a little crazy and baked two different kinds.” He pulls the container out of his bag and sets it on the counter. Marinette is someone that Clint trusts the most when it comes to trying out anything that he tries to make. He doesn’t make scones that often actually so this is different but enjoyed how they came out. “There’s Strawberries and Cream, and also Cranberry Gingerbread.” He pulls the lid off the tupperware to reveal the pastries. He stands back and takes a sip of the coffee while waiting to see if his friend will give them a try.

“You know serious is my middle name, it’s spelt super weird though like l-u-n-a. Werid huh?” She spoke, tilting her chin back slightly as she could. Making a show of waiting until he put his ‘poker face’ on, she nodded along as he answered - mostly to show she was actually listening. “Ohhh. I guess that makes more sense. All the pets is the dream, but you can’t make your current pets upset - that seems like… bad pet parenting.” The words coming out as though it was the most unfathomable thing on earth to not look after your pets, which to her it was. “So when my parents complain about poor life choices after I adopt all the cats, I can blame you?”

Bucky isn’t all that much into PDA, things had been different once. That feels like it was a life time ago, a lifetime which Bucky has wished more than once before that Clint had known him in. A life before his service in the military, but that also poses the question – would Clint have liked the person who was before? Maybe in some twisted way it was all for the best. If even one thing had been different, then maybe he couldn’t be standing here today with hands intertwined and raspberry lingering on his tongue. It could have something to do with the hard day, but Bucky was craving a little more reassurance than usual. It’s a quick glance over his shoulder, the gym is pretty much empty and well – it’s not like their in front of a crowd of people. So seeing that the coast is clear, Bucky moves in. It’s a slow movement, pressing his lips against Clint’s. Now that his hand is free of a pastry, Bucky is able to wrap his arm around Clint’s waist and pulls the man closer to the edge of the desk. Lips move in slow languid motions, like he’s got all the time in the world to kiss his husband – which he does. But the kiss doesn’t last much longer. Instead Bucky pulls back, with a tilt of his head. “What, you wanna hear you taste like sweet like buttercream?” The taunt is easily given and maybe it’s low hanging fruit given Clint’s profession but it’s amusing all the same.

Clint’s profession, in fact, has always been a blessing and a curse. A man who can make a damn good sweet married to a goddamn personal trainer. Bucky knows that there is an irony in there somewhere but he’s not willing to sit here and figure that out. Instead Bucky likes to pretend he’s sneaky and steal cookies from behind Clint’s back. The problem is not the sweet itself, in fact he thinks everyone is allowed a good treat now and again. The problem lies with how Bucky can’t have just one can he? No he’s got to scarf down half a plate because they’re just that damn good. “As long as you’re aware it’s going to get messed up again.” It’s a soft chuckle now that they’re in much closer proximity. Clint’s presence has always helped with any sort of stress he’s feeling, someone who grounds him in an instant. He wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the goddamn world. Though that thought is fleeting as Clint brings up his high school friend, Jeff. Bucky’s met every damn friend Clint has and likes them all but Jeff. He’s had some issues with the man but now it’s much more of a joke between them if anything. Bucky still gives Clint a bit of a pointed look, eyebrow arching a bit in distaste. “Yeah, let’s see how those cookies turn out in that oven from the 60′s. It’s your reputation on the line.” And that’s Bucky’s way of tell Clint to stay, keep cooking at home. There’s soon a sigh that leaves his lips, he much rather keep talking about Jeff than these damn files. He moves to rest his head on Clint’s shoulder, nose pressing against worn fabric for a moment. “No, I don’t think it was color coded. – That’s probably a good idea though..” Bucky doesn’t lift his head at Clint’s next question, instead he presses in closer – warm breath ghosting along Clint’s neck. “I can sign out whenever. I was going to work out but I could be persuaded to forgo that today.” 

//

Sometimes Clint wonders what it would have been like if they met sooner but he also believes that people come into your life when you need them the most. Although he doesn’t feel like his life is terribly interesting . . . most of his younger years were spent adjusting to life after his accident. There was a time when Barney expressed how there was once an interest in joining the army — wanting to enlist and serve their country but then their parents died which changed all of his plans. Maybe this was another resentment toward him that contributed to the drift between them when they got older. No matter, it wasn’t like his older brother came through Alucard often. He knew better by now that his presence wasn’t always welcomed in their house because of how quick they were to get in an argument. Clint doesn’t want to think about that though, not when his day has been a nice one and now he was more focused on his new mission to try convincing his husband to come home with him. He has always respected him not being interested in public displays of affection, never bothering him for a moment since they met. They were alone though it seemed, the gym is quiet which meant they were more free to relax. “Oh!” The blond grins as Bucky pulls him closer to the edge of the desk, playfully spreading his legs a little to make it easier for the other man to close the distance between them. He kisses him back while wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck, fingers pushing through the brunette strands of hair for a brief moment while their lips were pressed together. It doesn’t last long but enough to make him smile as they pulled apart, not moving his arms away just yet. “Maybe . . .” He whispers.

They might be ironic — a pastry chef who could make anything sweet married to someone that takes their health so seriously. He worked hard over the years to perfect his recipes. He can’t deny how happy it makes him that Bucky wants to sneak a plate full of his treats. He might be working on some new recipes that would be healthier . . . just for his husband. He’ll bake ten different versions to try and spread them out to try each one. “I’m more than aware but it’s already messed up again with how close we are right now, huh?” He teases but doesn’t mind since having Bucky right here makes him feel content. He pulls the man in to kiss his cheek a few times. “I wouldn’t want to use an oven that old.” He teases gently while sighing happily as his husband pressed against his neck. “Why don’t you come home with me, James? You’ve worked hard and I can think of a few ways to help you relax.” His words a whisper as he leaned in to the other man’s ear.

closed starter for clint barton @dauntlcss​

“So serious question.” She spoke, trying to sound as serious as possible, which for her usually meant failing epically. Faux serious was never her thing, she only managed true seriousness if someone hurt someone she loved - something she was sure Clint would never do, which usually meant he got stuck dealing with something random. “How do you work near cats and not adopt them all? I want to adopt them all, and I only visit the place. If I had to work there, my place would be overrun with cats in point five seconds, and I wouldn’t even be mad.”

                 kate  held  out  the  cup  of  coffee  when  clint  opened  the  door  with  a  playful  smile.  ‘  wow  ,  no  hi  kate.  how  you  doing?  or  oh  thank  you  for  the  coffee.  ‘  kate  teased  as  she  following  him  to  the  backyard  to  see  lucky.  when  she  stepped  out  onto  the  stairs  and  smiled  at  the  golden  retriever  running  around.  ‘  lucky.  ‘  kate  called  out  only  for  him  to  come  running.  sitting  down  so  she  could  pet  him.  ‘   you  know  running  around  ,  stalking  people  same  old.  ‘  kate  loved  her  job  has  a  pi  ,  it  gave  her  great  joy  to  help  people. 

                        katara  had  always  been  more  intune  with  being  able  to  read  people  ,  its  what  made  her  such  a  good  nurse.  it  used  to  annoy  her  brother  because  she  could  always  tell  when  family  was  coming  down  with  something.  she  also  had  dreams   of  herself  siting  over  people  growing  water  from  her  hand  applied  to  someone  healing  them.  though  it  was  something  she  didnt  like  to  think  about  much  but  they  correlated  with  the  other  dreams  of  her  using  water  as  an  extension  of  herself  sometimes  it  was  fighting  and  other  times  it  just  looked  like  it  was  practicing.  but  it  wasnt  something  she  told  anyone  else  because  she  couldnt  even  explain  it  herself.   at  his  question  katara  gave  him  a  shrug  and  a  slight  smile.  ‘  you  should  say  that.  i  just  got  off  a  double  at  the  hospital  but  i  have  class  in  about  two  hours  so  im  praying  coffee  gets  me  through  it.  ‘  katara  said  with  a  playful  tone.  ‘  no  worries  ,  nice  to  meet  you  clint.  im  katara.  ‘