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#clintasha
quietlyimplode · 2 days
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Clintasha Advent.
Free Day.
“Do you know what cibophobia is?” Tony asks, staring directly at Natasha.
“It’s not that,” she rolls her eyes.
“What?” Clint asks, looking from one to the other.
“Cibophobia is fear of food,” Tony says, somewhat triumphantly.
“What like all food?” Clint frowns, not understanding.
“Certain foods,” Tony starts, “like pineapple.”
Natasha’s eyes narrow, and Clint feels her dangerousness.
“It’s not that,” she insists. “And I need you to let it go before you get hurt.”
Undeterred, Tony still prods.
“I’ll find out one day,” he challenges.
Clint laughs.
“No you won’t.”
Natasha nods, smiling.
“It’s killing you, isn’t it?”
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justsomeclintasha · 2 days
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Day 7- Free Day!!
“You okay up there?”
“Didn’t fall off yet!” Clint shoots her a cheeky grin from his perch on the roof. It’s an unusually warm day in December, great weather for hanging up the decorations. He tucks the strand of lights into the clips, working along the gutters.
“Daddy’s good at that, isn’t he?”
Blue eyes blink up at her in response. Katie is bundled in a blanket, watching Natasha wrap garland around the railing. The ladder creaks as Clint makes his way down. He steps onto the porch.
“She’s probably going to love seeing the lights all lit up. Wait til we decorate inside.”
“I’m still not sure we should put up a tree this year with her being so little.”
“She’s only four months old, Nat. It’s not like she can get at it. Besides, where will we put all her presents if we can’t put them under the tree?”
Natasha shrugs, fluffing out the strand of garland a bit. She steps back to admire her handiwork. They dug the decorations out of the attic that morning. Thankfully the lights still worked, and the garland, though a bit uneven, would do.
“You ready for lunch sweetheart?” She picks Katie up, rocking her gently against her chest. Feeling his eyes on her, she turns and raises an eyebrow. “What?”
Clint holds up his hands in surrender. “Nothing.”
“What are you smiling at?”
“Just you being all cute.”
“I am not being cute.” Natasha rolls her eyes, but she’s fighting back a smile as they head back inside. Clint warms a bottle and they settle on the couch.
She glances at the fireplace. A small purple stocking hangs between theirs. My First Christmas, it reads in silver script.
“Hey Nat?”
“Yeah?”
“I was just thinking.. we have the perfect little family, you know?”
“Yeah,” she murmurs, snuggling a little bit closer. “We really do.”
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notpikaman · 18 hours
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marveldaily · 1 year
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HAWKEYE | So This is Christmas?
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seaquell · 4 months
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Best shot you ever took? The one I didn't take.
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curiosity-cat · 1 year
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the forehead touch™ in the mcu
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charliewrites99 · 10 months
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Me: I hate cliches
Fic description: They were a figure skater and a hockey player. It was the Olympics.
Me: *tearing up from excitement* Oh my god, they were a figure skater and a hockey player. AND it was the Olympics?!!
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katherineebishop · 1 year
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Hawkeye | 1.06 ‘So This Is Christmas?’
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loomontoia · 4 months
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they live together in a little apartment and just sit and do nothing after saving the world :)
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tinyking · 1 year
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tfw when a fandom ships a pairing so hard that non-fans genuinely think the pairing is canon and then you watch the show and it's not
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luke-skywalker · 1 year
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AVENGERS: ENDGAME // HAWKEYE
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deannamb · 1 year
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Happy ugly sweaters time!
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notpikaman · 18 hours
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quietlyimplode · 1 day
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Clintasha Advent.
Home.
The wind is icy cold. Natasha squats, touching grass and grounding herself on the land in which she was born.
She doesn’t want to be here, but work, like life drags her to places she doesn’t want to be.
Standing, she looks around. She knows what the goal is, find the engineer and then get out.
She promised Clint she’d be safe, emotionally, physically, mentally, but the longer she’s here the less likely it is she’ll be able to keep that promise.
Call me, he’d said, if/when it feels too much.
She picks up her phone.
Dialing, she calls home.
.
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Day 8- Home
Natasha has never been a fan of meetings, and the day had been full of them. Her back is aching from sitting in the office, and a headache pulses behind her temples. At least it’s over now.
She sighs, slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder. Snow is falling lightly, dusting her hair and the sidewalk as she walks toward their front door. Christmas lights illuminate the path, and she can see the silhouette of the tree behind the curtains.
She wipes her feet on the mat and kicks off her shoes just inside the door. One of Clint’s purple gloves has fallen off the rack. She picks it back up, smoothing the fabric before putting it with it’s twin.
The smell of chocolate chip cookies wafts through the air, mixed with wood burning in the fireplace. She hangs her bag on the hook and shrugs off her coat.
Her footsteps are quiet as she pads into the living room, taking a moment to admire the tree. It’s decorated in ornaments they’ve acquired over the years. A blanket she’s been knitting is draped over a rocking chair in the corner, the soft green yarn cascading into a basket on the floor.
Laughter floats in towards her and she follows the sound. A fresh tray of cookies is cooling on the counter. Clint is bent over Katie’s high chair, wiping chocolate from her cheeks with a damp towel.
Noticing her presence, Katie reaches towards her mommy with grabby hands. Clint picks her up to meet halfway. He wraps them both in his arms, and Natasha leans into the hug a few moments longer than usual.
“Alright?” he asks as she plucks the baby from his arms, resting her comfortably on her hip. She smooths back the blonde hair, then kisses her forehead, Clint’s arm rubbing gently up and down her back. She smiles.
“Just really happy to be home.”
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prince-strife · 1 year
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scary man who really loves his wife 🥺🥺
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mellifluous-affection · 2 months
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flancito22 · 3 months
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Due to personal reasons I'll be reading a bunch of fanfics of the same fuckers falling in love again and again in two thousands of different ways pretending that romantic love actually exists. If you need to contact me for some reason, please bring a chocolate offering or I won't listen, thank you for your understanding.
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