#captainhawk

Scarletvision

Scarlethawk

Scarletshield

Winterhawk

Phlint

Captainhawk

Hawkfamily (Clint and Laura and the kids)

Strike Team Delta (but not as a romantic ship or anything I just love their dynamic)

Basically anything with Clint and Wanda in I love them sm

     (★) ─  “Uh! Wh-What!?” His jaw clenched, shoulder righting as he adapted the safety of a soldier’s pose. “I-I would never! They’re teammates! They’re friends!” The truth was that it would be easy for him to imagine situations with… with any of his teammates.     Nat was… breathtaking, and she knew it; not only was her form gorgeous with all her curves, but she was smart. He did always have a thing for girls who could kick his ass. And Natasha could kick his ass from here to Sunday. She knew exactly how to use her body, her wit to get what she wanted. He’d seen her flirt, seen her use her body both to seduce and to obliterate an opponent. Nat had never made a pass at him, tried to set him up with dates sure, but try herself? Sometimes he thought what that would be like, what she would do to seduce him?      The serum had cured Steve of his partial deafness, but he still remembered sign language. When he found out Clint had a hearing problem, the two of them had almost instantly bonded. In some odd sense, Clint reminded Steve of himself before the serum; there was too much ‘dad’ in him though. And as odd as it sounded, Steve could see how it could happen, some sweet moment in private that lead to more…      Bruce cared deeply for all of them. He was a caregiver, a life saver. When he’d first met the timid doctor he never would have imagined he was possible of turning into, as Tony put it, a giant green rage monster. The Hulk was the only teammate, perhaps aside from Thor, who Steve had seen naked the most. He denied it, refused to acknowledge that he had, in fact, thought about the Hulk’s cock… a couple fleeting thoughts here and there. Thoughts he would NEVER admit in a million years to thinking.     That small dark voice in the very back of his mind often thought of what he’d do to Tony – mostly it was punching the billionaire in the face. Tony liked to run his mouth, open it and let words spew out like a faucet. That little dark voice could think of so many other uses – better uses – for the genius’ mouth.     Then there was Thor. While Steve had grown up Catholic, believed in one God… Thor was a god… and he didn’t always think of the term in the most ‘holy’ way. The blond Adonis was the only other Avenger who could take Steve in a fight. They spared, and sometimes when Thor’s thick body pressed flushed against his, the captain’s thoughts often drifted into dangerous territory. The idea that he could be the weak one again… It was ironic that he’d spent half his life being the scrawny kid people easily pushed over, and now that he wasn’t… the idea of being the weak one, of having someone who could dominate him was… thrilling, and not always in the proper way… if those thoughts could be considered proper, to begin with.     Having someone who had served, who had lost someone important to them as Bucky had been to Steve… He had a friendship with Sam that Steve valued, in a way, more than the others. In a sense, the ‘Falcon’ understood that part of Steve he tried to hide from the world. He felt a connection to Sam that was similar to his bond with Bucky – not the same, but… In the small recesses of his mind, he could imagine it, the two of them seeking comfort in one another, understanding each other’s loss and finding solace in the other’s embrace.       “No.” He shook his head, jaw set and eyes firm. Steve stood with his shoulders squared and chin up. “I wouldn’t–don’t think of them that way.”

July 21 - “Is that… chocolate body paint?” Clint/Steve for "Lisa"

Written by @celiaequus

When he was a kid, Steve never would’ve dreamt of all the art supplies available today.  The different coloured pencils, pens, paints.  Charcoal pencils, watercolour pencils… anything he could imagine, and more.

But it also meant that browsing was a time-consuming process.  Instead, he’d had to settle on his latest project, recreating a scene from their last battle, and he was looking for particular types of forest colours.  Green and brown, mostly, and he could blend what he already had.

“Whatcha doing, Cap?” Clint asked, bouncing onto the sofa beside Steve.

“Looking up supplies,” he said absently, searching for chocolate paint.  He’d done the preliminary sketch; now he needed colour.  Clint looked over his shoulder, and Steve frowned as he paused at one of the results.  “Is that… chocolate body paint?  What the hell do you use that for?”

Clint laughed so hard that he fell off the couch, and just lay there on his back, chortling loudly and helplessly.  Suspicious, Steve looked up what body paint was for.  Was it like face paint for little kids or…?

Oh.  No, it was not for kids.

“Oh my God,” he said, covering his face.  That made Clint laugh even harder.  He was clutching his stomach now, and his face was bright red.  “It’s not funny, Clint!  Ugh, I’ll just have to go to the craft shop myself.”

Clint nodded as Steve stalked away, still howling.

I can play quite a few characters, probably more than I can think of right now, including: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Pietro Maximoff, James/Bucky Barnes, Alex Summers, & Charles Xavier

Ships are available, too, including but not limited to: Hawksilver Phlint Winterhawk Stucky Captainhawk McSummers Cherik and others I can’t think of off the top of my head! Ships are not required!

I can do paragraph style, text style, a mixture of both, or others, all up to what we decide.

I can also do other fandoms, but no guarantees that it’ll be your fandom!

The first two works of Phantasmagoria are being translated in Chinese by lovely @terachiyuu!

Ghosts is here & Illusions is here.

~

"Under the ice, I was awake."

When the words settle in his head, Clint feels dizzy with comprehension. And yeah, there it is, the ripping that slices into his ribcage, sharp and painful, as if trying to erase everything that had touched his chest before. He shudders violently.

"How are you sane," a whisper slips out unabated, voicing Clint's realization.