This is a threat for any questions, general comments, and general excitement about the one prompt challenge :)

Ooooh! look at Ink getting mean. A THREAT. *G*

🤣

...*sigh*

Threatening you... with a good time!

The good time of getting a WIP done and out in the world!

🤗

Thank You for putting this together! And so quickly, that was Not expected and I can't adore you all enough!!

We like doing pre-promptathon warm ups. Usually we've done a 3 sentence challenge but this sounded like a fun change and people in the chat were up for it, so here it is! Thanks for the suggestion 😊

Oh, it's an 'and' thing not an 'or' thing - both prompts have to be covered by the same fic. Very cool. I like the challenge! :)

It is! The two prompts were tied for first place so we get two :)

OH, WAIT. I only nibbled at the rooftop thing (you may see it if you squint)

hahah! I only nibbled at time travel. It is very much exactly one throw away line.

Phew!! I clearly did not read the instructions and thought it was an "either or" thing... Glad I'm not the only one.

Title: Someday
Summary: Clint has a chance to go back and fix things for Natasha.
Word count: ~1,975
Rating: PG/K+
Warnings: No warnings apply.

(Read at AO3)

💜💜💜

Loved this time travel outcome

Thanks, hon :)

“Absolutely not. This is one of the most powerful objects in the universe and I am not letting you use it to buy your girlfriend a box of chocolates or some lingerie, Barton.”

Dr. Strange stabs his finger at the broken stained-glass window above his head, still cracked from some inter-dimensional misadventure, the details of which Clint has yet to worm out of Wong.

“That is what happens when the Sorcerer Supreme dares to get involved in frivolous nonsense, like helping that Parker kid save his friends’ university admission. And we can’t afford to replace it.”

Clint switches to puppy dog mode.

“Oh, c’mon, Doc. It’s Nat’s first birthday since Vormir, so it’s like a re-birthday and counts twice. Truly special. Plus, I’ll chip in for the window. Help a guy out?”

Strange rolls his eyes.

“I’m not the idiot who forgot to buy his partner a birthday present and is begging for a do-over,” he says. But then he frowns and adds slowly, “Well, no, that’s not strictly correct. I did actually. Forget, I mean. Twice. She’s now an ex and hasn’t spoken to me in eight years, except for once or twice when we had to save the planet.”

Clint gives him his best gotcha look.

“See, I knew you’d understand, Doc. This is a Level Seven emergency. Please?”

Read the rest on AO3




Edited 2024-07-15 08:44 pm (UTC)

💜💜💜

Clint getting one over on Dr. Strange!😆
I am off to go read what hijinks our boy is about to get into...

Title: Distracted
Rating: Teen
Warnings: None
Summary: Clint's first mission as a SHIELD Agent.
Link: Read here on AO3

Autumn in the city was beautiful, especially at dusk, when all the lights flickered on and you could see the sun setting between the buildings in the distance between BedStuy and the Hudson.

Clint liked to take advantage of the rooftop on evenings like these to practice his shooting. And Natasha liked to take advantage of the time to watch him, a thing that boosted Clint's ego more than it needed to be boosted and maybe, just maybe, encouraged him to come up here more often than he otherwise would have.

Tonight, Natasha sat curled up in a deck chair on the roof, wrapped up in one of Clint's hoodies. She'd also tossed a fuzzy blanket over her lap, claiming it was too chilly to be without one.

"You know, if you're cold, you don't have to stay up here with me," he said as he lined up a shot.

"And give up this view? No way," she said with a shake of her head as she burrowed deeper under the blanket.

Read the rest at Ao3

Clint meets Steve on the bench by the lake, two hours before sundown.

“Was it good?” Clint asks, staring out at the water. “Was it worth it?”

Steve is almost completely unrecognisable when he smiles. The years have added wrinkles to his forehead, bleached his hair white, roughened his speaking voice. It’s weird, to say the least, to witness the face of the American way, and more importantly his friend of over a decade, change so drastically overnight.

Well, only overnight to him, Clint supposes.

He’s only still wrapping his head around time travel as a concept, never mind the rules and logistics of it. What he’s about to—try—to pull off… Well, he supposes he’s done it before. But it certainly won’t be easy.

Trippy, on the other hand.

Continued on AO3

The year is 2012. The Ancient One pauses in front of the rooftop entrance to the New York Sanctum. The old pair of doors rattle as someone pulls repeatedly on the handles from the other side, with increasing frustration, until they swing inwards with a jolt and, in the shadows at the top of the stairs, the intruder slips backwards.

She rescues him from potentially a rather nasty fall with a simple hand motion, arresting him in mid-air.

“I told you,” she says serenely, “we just had the floors waxed.”

“Yeah, you might wanna do something about how that door sticks next,” he replies, in a rough voice weighed down by exhaustion.

“Ah.” The Ancient One frowns slightly as she tugs his floating form towards herself, into the light. “You are not who I was expecting.”

Read on AO3


Sneaking in a short fill at the midnight hour!

Edited 2024-07-26 11:39 pm (UTC)

that better be Clint! I'm off to read😁

luv AO's dry humor

💜💜💜

LET ME TRY THIS AGAIN! I had to take down the original posting due to a critical error(thank you to wdanser on tumblr for pointing it out!) sorry it took so long to get back up.


Summary: During house arrest, Clint is visited by a familiar face.


"Hon, how much longer are you going to be?" Laura called from outside of the front porch.

Clint peeked his head over the edge of the roof, sweat dripping off of his nose.

"One more section."

"Good, dinner is almost ready," she walked up the steps, then hollered, "and take a shower before you come to the table!"

"Yeah, yeah." He waved her off and went back to hammering in the new shingles, only three more rows until he reached the top.

Just as he was about to set the next nail, a loud crackle electrified the air. Out of nowhere, a man in a white and red jumpsuit nearly landed on top of him.

Clint swung the hammer at the stranger but they ducked out of the way. He went for a tackle until the intruder unsheathed his helmet (more like it completely disappeared) and the face staring back at him was his own.

The hammer slipped from his grip, both hands clenching into fists.

"Fuck you, Loki."

"I am not Loki, I swear," the slightly older Barton held his hands up and begged, "just listen, there's no time."

"If you think..."

"Nat's going to die."

Clint's eyes narrowed.

"Loki would know to use her against me."

"I know, but I also know the one thing you were able to keep from him and everyone else."

It wasn't possible. Clint looked around, hoping Laura and the kids wouldn't come out.

"A particular hourglass tattoo," the elder Hawkeye continued, tapping his left foot on the side of the chimney, "on the inside of your middle toe."

Clint swayed. No one knew about that, not Laura, not Natasha.

"Believe me now?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Good. We have less than a minute. In the future, you and Nat will be sent on a mission to another planet. When you get there, make sure she doesn't jump."

"Nat and I aren't even talking." Hawkeye shot him a look and Clint shut up.

"You'll be assigned to retrieve some sort of fucking magical stone. When you get there, Do Not Let Her Jump. Shoot her in the leg, pin her with an arrow. Do whatever the fuck you have to do. Understand?"

Clint nodded even though he didn't.

"I've tried everything." His older self became desperate. "This is our last hope."

What did he mean? Clint dreaded who else may be dead.

"Can you tell me if Laura and the kids are ok?"

"They're all fine."

Those words should have brought him comfort, but the haunted misery reflected in his own eyes told Clint what his life would be without Nat.

"I won't fail her."

"You won't like it if you do."

And he was gone.

Clint jumped off the roof and ran to the barn, scrambling under the old tractor for his stash phone. A future mission meant he and Natasha would be together again, a hope he'd lost after the Accords.

He sent a code and waited.

And waited.

Hours went by.

At 3 AM his phone bleeped. Clint quietly got out of bed and took it down to the kitchen.

He'd sent a target symbol to let her know he was okay. She sent a spider to tell him the same.

He responded back with a spiderweb made of arrows, her special design representing their lives forever entwined, created in a small air vent in Budapest.

A few minutes passed. He told himself it would be okay if she didn't reply, her being alive was enough. If she didn't feel the same anymore, it was his fault.

The phone chirped. Clint held his breath.

A lump welled in his throat when he opened the message. Her response was the most beautiful thing he'd seen since her departure...his red and purple infinity sign.

the end


an: apologies, I tried to insert an infinity image but tech hates me

Not talking, but still communicating in way - when they reach out 💜

Love that Clint's first thought on being faced with himself is that it's Loki, yikes.

"Not talking, but still communicating in way"
cause we all know they are so much more than 'I love you's'

🤗🥰🤗 thank you!

Oh, man. That was a gut punch on so many levels... Lovely. (No, I mean it!)

🥰🤗🥰 Thank you!!
and I'm sorry...but I'm not😉
(probably should put Sad warning on mine, but I never think are that sad :)

Ah! there it is! very very nice.

I am so glad you liked it!🥰

Thank you again for checking on me🤗 I really appreciated that

This was lovely! Pulled at my heartstrings in the best way. Thanks for sharing! :)

Edited 2024-07-30 08:05 pm (UTC)

🥰Thank you!🤗

Immediately, Clint knows something is wrong.

You don’t get to hang around the Avengers, fighting crime and supervillains on the daily without developing a serious Shit-is-about-to-go-down-o-meter, and this… Well, maybe shit isn’t going down, not exactly, but something is definitely wrong. The buildings are all off, there aren’t enough flashy, LED shop signs or social media trap cafes. The regular bodegas are around, but the signs all look mysteriously newer. The people around him are decked out in suits and minidresses that he hasn’t seen in vogue since––

Since…

Aww futz!

Or: Clint and Natasha meet on a rooftop in New York City, only, it's 1969 and they're both stuck in time.

Read the rest on AO3

Edited 2024-08-23 02:40 pm (UTC)