Clint thinks an open comm is an invitation for conversation. It's one of things that Natasha really hates about working missions with him. The day when silence greets her is the day she realizes how much she misses his ramblings. And why isn't he talking?

Oh, love this. This is asking for some sweet hurt/comfort. :)

Long have they pass'd, faces and trenches and fields,
Where through the carnage I moved with a callous composure, or away from the fallen,
Onward I sped at the time--but now of their forms at night,
I dream, I dream, I dream.
-- "Old War Dreams", Walt Whitman

In war time women turn to red
swivel-up scarlet and carmine
not in solidarity with spilt blood
but as a badge of beating hearts.
-- "Lipstick," Maggie Butt

Full poem here (http://war-poetry.livejournal.com/179515.html), warnings for...war? I guess, I'm not sure. Women civilians in war.

They expect her to wear black.

She's Black Widow, after all; they say her epitaph and think assassin, and all assassins must obviously wear black. And it's true, she's killed while wearing black. She's killed while wearing slinky black cocktail dresses and she's killed while wearing plain black suits and, once, she killed while wearing black at a funeral.

Mostly, she wears black because that's the office-wear code. Hell if she knows why, it's not like turning up to work is like going to a funeral (although sometimes she does have to work at funerals, but that's a separate issue).

(She wonders, though, when they're going to notice that her catsuits are never actually black. They are blue, they are grey, they are colours that actually blur into shadow.

Which black does not.)

She's a spy before she's a secret agent, and right now she's a secret agent before she's an assassin. But before all of these she is Natasha, and Natasha is not someone who walks through life wearing the black of death, grief, and nine-to-five. She wears purple heels to the office, she wears turquoise blouses under her fitted jacket (although not at once, not as Natasha); she paints red over her lips not because she intends to seduce, but because she's announcing that she's alive.

Clothes are performative; the Red Room taught her that, and she has always been a good student. She separates her personal clothes from the garments that help create her personae, but both wardrobes are created with the same lessons in mind. Her teachers said, clothes are both reflections and projections. Clothes are made up of codes; even the ones chosen purely for comfort, for that in itself is a message. Clothes are a statement, and frankly wearing all black clothing can code one as a waiter or a sales assistant (which admittedly can be useful).

Into her wardrobe go colourful, artistic shoes, and above them hang a-line skirts and dresses made of both solid colours and solid geometric patterns. She has blouses, cardigans, and jackets arranged like an artist's row of paints, and there is black, of course. Black shoes, black pants, black skirts, black jackets, black blouses; she doesn't avoid the colour, she just prefers to counter it with the rest of the rainbow.

She wears pink to her wedding. It's a childish colour, but sometimes it doesn't hurt to be childish and marry your best friend while giggling, even if Elvis is in attendance. It's a bold colour, because no one who's uncomfortable in their own skin would wear it, and it's such a glorious shade of fuck-off pink that she wears her wedding dress to Monaco for the Stark job.

Have I been a soldier long, sir? - About ninety-two years, or more
I enlisted when just turned three, sir, and now I’m thirty-four
-- "Harry Pleon, "A Soldier's Story."

"What, Clint? Did you want to be the handsome man who saves me from the monsters?"

Natasha confronts Clint about why he spared her life.

Edited 2012-07-14 10:18 pm (UTC)

Oh mannnnn I love this.

He's always wondered, if it really came down to it, spy-vs.-spy-fight-to-the-death style, who would win. Well, now he knows.

I adore smut; don't get me wrong. But perfect sex, all the time, every time? I wish. No, I want nose bumping, nerve pinching, actually awkward sex. It can be their first time, their worst time, any time at all; have at it!

I can write this. There is a 95% chance it will be 5+1 fic but OMFG I hate perfect sex in fics and I love writing awkward sex. *scribbles frantic notes*

Here be a place for requesting icons from me. Because we are an All The Things comm :D

Leave a picture (and a link back to where you got it from, so I can credit), a quote from the characters or someone on be_compromised or a fanfic (again, tell me where it’s from), a lyric, a vague idea, basically anything that you’d like iconned related to Clint and/or Natasha, Jeremy and/or Scarlett, or this comm and corner of fandom. Want your username on it so it’s personalised? Can do. Open to all ideas.

If you want fanart iconned (or graphics) though PLEASE ask the artist’s permission FIRST and let me know that and who they are. Credit is love. Equally, if you see a request for something based on a quote from you or something you've made and you don't want that, just let me know.

No limits as to how many icons people want to request (unless I start drowning, then I’m cutting you off *grins*). I’ll post the whole batch a few days or so before the promptathon finishes, so requesting open until then :)

No interest in icons? No problem. Have some shawarma and enjoy the promptathon party x

Edited 2012-07-15 01:00 am (UTC)

ETA: Okay, honestly, I have a couple images that I think would make great icons:

http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_liz17r29E31qa7w9wo1_1280.jpg

http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6gmqm28nw1qeyukro1_500.jpg

Thanks!

(And I feel like adding an icon request thread was a fantastic icon for this prompt-a-thon.)

Edited 2012-07-15 06:49 pm (UTC)

Something set in Joss Whedon's Dollhouse 'verse would be brilliant. It could have both Clint and Natasha as dolls, or either of them, or neither. It could be the whole team in this world or just those two. It could have the events of the Avengers happening in the context of this world - because what would Loki's 'brainwashing' or whatever the Red Room or whoever did to Natasha mean in the context of a world with Dollhouse technology? An AU, a crossover, anything. I'm just really curious to see a Dollhouse mash up!

*speechless*

*sputters a bit*

*falls down into yet another pool of drool*

One or both of them dealing with sexuality and/or gender issues when their job is one that requires flexible identities, requires being (or at least pretending to be) other people.

For the love of books: Clint and Natasha work for a library. The kind of library where it's necessary to have the skills of a Master Assassin, and that's just dealing with the books never mind the visitors. Finding new volumes or retrieving over due books is challenge beyond belief.

Maybe like Terry Pratchett's L-Space libraries? Maybe like The Pagemaster? Like Dream's library in the Sandman? Maybe just a library that's dangerous because it's used by the X Men, the Fantastic Four, visiting aliens and Marvel or other verse characters?

Or just Clint and Natasha in a library, as part of a job or whatever. Just. Library love! :D

Terry Prachett! <3

(For whatever reason) Clint has to cut Natasha's hair. Maybe he has skills. Maybe at this point in her life he's the only one Natasha will let near her head with scissors. Maybe he makes an absolute mess. ?

I LOVE THIS. Because, you know, there's a story behind her hair being cut, and nobody but Clint knows how and why.

Well 430+ comments later I finally arrive to prompt....IDK if there is anything left ;) YOU ALL ROCK!

"Friendship is constant in all other things
Save in the office and affairs of love:
Therefore all hearts in love use their own tongues;
Let every eye negotiate for itself
And trust no agent."
-William Shakespeare

Modern day "Much Ado About Nothing" set in the MCU. Clint/Natasha as Benedick & Beatrice and the Avengers come together to make them believe they are each in love with the other. Bonus points for Loki as Don Juan ;)

Edited 2012-07-15 03:20 am (UTC)

**TACKLEGLOMPS YOU AND THIS PROMPT**

Edited 2012-07-15 04:58 pm (UTC)

Love is friendship set on fire.

This is beautifully poetic and deserves an equally beautiful fill.

My prompts are all about the cheese and tropes. I love cheese and tropes yo.

Natasha sends Clint an address and it ends up being a country honky tonk bar. He walks in and she's at the bar dressed in tight jeans, cowboy boots and a plaid shirt shooting whiskey. Flirting, slow dancing and a possible bar fight as foreplay are all encouraged. Basically she's making his mid-western boy fantasies come true.

*grins* The only thing better than cheese and tropes is cheese and crackers so you're set! I myself bring a lot of marshmallow fluff wherever I go.

I haven't seen a Dance AU around here or anywhere else (so if you have, let me know!) so here's one:

Natasha is a famous ballet dancer who has been receiving death threats (those dance fans are mean!) and Clint is the bodyguard her agent picks for her. Normally, when she dances, she doesn't care about the audience but suddenly she's irritated that the one person she wants to notice her is busy looking at the audience!

Ohhhh, YES.

Hawkeye and Black Widow? They have reputations, both in the wider shadowy community and in SHIELD. Attached to reputation is rumour.

Rumour tends to get rather outlandish, so what does the SHIELD rumour-mill have to say about our duo?

(And how to Clint and 'Tasha react when they hear?)

Ooooh, I love that!

Serial killer AU.

They meet in the dark on a Tuesday, both their hands drenched in the blood of their enemies, dripping to the ground in a cold Russian rain. He shoots first, one simple fiberglass arrow singing through the sky in her direction; she dodges with a speed he's never seen before and then charges towards him, her red hair whipping behind her like a whirlwind.

That night sets the tone of their entire relationship.

~

They start small, at first. Clint likes to watch for a target for a bit, lazily drift along sight line to sight line until he settles on one that tickles his fancy just right, then lets off a single arrow that dissolves upon completing its mission, no muss no fuss. Clint is neat, Clint is precise, Clint is cold and calculating.

Somewhere around Abidjan, things get a little bigger. Natasha likes to charge in without a plan, her head already swimming in a picture of the kill, her whole body humming with only one purpose, knives at the ready, widow's bite charged. Natasha is not neat, Natasha is not precise, Natasha gets the job done and doesn't care about the mess.

As it happens, they balance each other out just fine.

~

"You want this one?" Clint asks, enunciation muffled by the arrow he's holding in between his teeth, his hands busy holding on to a little girl near the same age Natasha was when she made her first kill.

"Nyet," Natasha responds, using the girl's clothes to wipe blood off her knife.

"She looks like you," he says.

"If you want to kill her, go right ahead. Don't let me stop you from hashing out your deep dark emotional problems, Clint."

He chuckles and wraps a hand around the girl's throat and watches as Natasha's expression slides into neutral, a face he's learned means she's anything but detached from the situation. "Aw, Nat, did I hit a nerve?"

"Fuck you," she growls, lashing out at him with her newly cleaned knife, opening a nice fresh gash on his cheek. Clint responds by first dropping the arrow and dropping the girl, and then trapping Natasha's knife hand with his arm and twisting until he hears a pop.

"You always underestimate you quick I am, don't you, baby?"

Even as he's finishing his sentence she's twisting away, dislocated shoulder but a small price to pay. They twist and fight and dance around each other, a nearly choreographed routine that happens after nearly every kill with little hint of actual malice, adrenaline and training still in high gear, still not quite satisfied; this is their foreplay.

~

"This is not funny. next time I am choosing our covers."

Sword of Truth AU anyone? Where Natasha is Mord'Sith. (and Tony can be the wizard, and Steve can be the Seeker, and everyone else can help them out...) *g*

I might also have this one started on my harddrive, too. ::facepalms:: OMG.

How about something lighthearted... how do a couple of master assassin spies deal with the media/paparazzi/stalkers? Bonus points for any be_compromised cameos ;)

OMG. *faints at the awesome*

Something loosely based on The Vow (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1606389/synopsis), along the lines of Clint helping Natasha recover the memory of who she is (the person she re-built herself once she deflected).

Have you read We Were Emergencies? Because it's similar enough to tide you over 'til writing starts (and, as a bonus, it's effing awesome).

Sparring = foreplay.

Oh hell yes!

Her ledger is finally settled.

Stay at home Dad. (Or domestic fic where either of them get to be bad ass)

Nick Fury loves when he's right, and he's usually always right.

He wasn't too thrilled to find out two of his agents decided to add domestic flavor to their life. It wasn't a thing he really wanted to hear, but he did his math quickly and came to conclusion that maternity could only raise the scary aspect of Natasha Romanoff. And he was damn right about that.

When she walks into the main control room with the kid on her hip, her eyes deadly determination, nobody even dares casting curious glances in her direction. Let alone saying something. It's like they have toddlers around here on daily basis, even in situations of emergency. But, one doesn't tell Black Widow she isn't supposed to do something, especially now.

“Agent Romanoff,” he greets, pretending nothing is out of the ordinary. Amy Barton still looks a lot like her father, but considerably prettier. She's quiet and observant and usually well behaved. Considering the environment she is growing up in, and the fact that she has uncle Tony who does his best to spoil her rotten, it speaks volumes about the way her parents treat her.

“Where are they?” Romanoff asks, her eyes trained on Fury. She's geared up for battle, and if Nick is right (and he usually is), she already has a plan.

“We're working on the exact location. It should be any minute now,” Bruce says, and she turns her eyes to the screen. Fury stands in the back, observing. Really, he almost feels sorry for those bastards who though kidnapping Tony Stark and Clint Barton was somehow a good idea. Messing with Iron Man is generally not advisable, but inflicting harm on Clint Barton? That one is fucking idiotic.

Romanoff puts Amy into Banner's arms and takes over the computer. Nick stands slightly in the back and indulges a moment of observation. The way she unquestionably trusts Bruce Banner with her child, the way he is comfortable with that; it just shows how much things have changed.

Finally, they're able to pull up satellite images and scans on the screen. Both Natasha and Banner study them.

“It's a trap,” Banner says, stroking Amy's curly hair.

“I'm aware of that,” Romanoff's voice is calculated and calm as she glances toward him.

“They expect we'll just walk into their trap,” Banner observes her and a corner of his mouth tilts up in a dangerous way. “And I guess that's exactly what they're going to get. Right, love?” he turns to little girl in his hands who grins up at him.

Natasha leans forward and touches the little girl's face.

“They will get a bit more than they've bargained for,” Romanoff then looks at Fury. “I have a plan, Sir. I'll need Rogers and Thor to help me out, but if everything goes according to the plan, we'll walk out of there without a need for major intervention,” she says.

“I'm all for hearing a plan, Agent,” Nick says.

“What about me?” Banner asks.

“I prefer to save you as my last card to draw. Hopefully that won't be needed. Would you keep an eye on her?”

Banner smiles briefly.

“You know I will.”