I don't know what to do with this exactly. It's over 2000 words of corset!fic (and, you know me, plot) and the impromptu party tonight wasn't necessarily for fic but this happened because of corsets being corsetty.

And then Seven Devils (F+tM) came on and I couldn't stop.

Title: Seven Devils (or, a bit of the story)
Genre: Old West AU (a sort of what if Lincoln hadn't been shot because Hydra was behind the Civil War and he was actually their puppet idea)
Characters: Clint/Natasha
Word Count: 2614
Rating: PG-13
( ...I'll be dead before the day is done... )

Welcome back to fanwork Fridays! This week we are all about the UST. We're also switching it up a bit and inviting you to bring the following:

(1)  Any and all fic/fanwork recs featuring assassins + UST. It's always much appreciated when you can drop us a line and tell us why you love that particular work. Remember: sharing is caring. :)

(2)  Any comment fic (or new fic linked here via comment) featuring assassins + UST. It's a little bit like incorporating the informal/impromptu kissing!fic meme but with a different topic. So if inspiration strikes, we'd love for you to share.

(3)  Meta/thoughts regarding the aforementioned assassins + UST. Got something to say on this topic? Let us know! Start a discussion with your fellow bar patrons (Said discussions are guaranteed to lead to more thoughts and feels and fic 99.9% of the time. They've done studies.)

#2 and 3 came out of our suggestion post last week, so we're going to experiement with that and see if it works. So go forth! Have fun! And congratulations on making it through another week.  <3

Title: Between Here and There. Or The One Where Clint Already Knew Natasha. You Know, Technically.
Author: andacus
Rating: M (Briefly Explicit, but nothing excessive)
Summary: Clint's life is just one circus after another.
Disclaimer: If I was making money off this I would be much happier. As it is, I'm not, I'm just secretly living in the attic of the house Marvel built.
Notes: Eeep! I'm nervous, guys! This is my first Clint/Natasha fic so bring on the concrit. I'm not terribly present (Damn life!) but I love everyone in this bar. I also, love that this is a saying. Also, mods, if I missed a tag or three, let me know.

Anyway, to the fic: He woke for real, finally rested, finally clear-headed, to a dark room and her elbow in his ribs and a leg thrown over his thigh, and he thought: Well, fuck it... oh no you don't. That's not until the end.