I’ve decided I’m going to do a fic fest tomorrow once I’m home, but today I have the end of conference and a lot of travel and I am a bit walking wounded right now so I am offering a TURNAROUND FEST to give me reading material in the airport.
If you see this, comment or reblog with a tiny short fanfic in the fandom, ship, and/or trope of your choosing. Doodles also welcome.
CREATIVITY! *jazz hands*
first draft excerpt from a longer 616!clint/kate fic for copperbadge
caps are sign language, the rest you can probably work out for yourselves
context: hawkeye #19 was partially in sign language, because clint has been deafened. so this is about deaf clint.
Open the door.
Hawkeye. Shades, arms crossed, looking like the fury that hell hath not.
YOU – ASSHOLE.
“I – futz – Katie, come in, alright?”
Lowers her shades. Glaring. Storms past, throws coat on couch. Dog trots behind.
Bend down. Hug your dog. Your dog. Back. Licks your face – wet - cold nose and jumps up at you. Opens mouth. Barking.
“Hey, Lucky.” More barking. Headbutts your crotch. “Yeah. I get it. Don’t make a scene, buddy.” More barking, probably.
Straighten up. Kate making coffee. Back to you.
Looks at you.
SIGN KNOW YOU?
Blushes. Still angry. Kind of cute.
“You can sign?”
Fuming. Youtube. I needed to yell at you.
Laugh. Pause. She pours a cup and slides the pot over to you. Sits on the counter with her leg dangling, the other, barefooted, tucked up underneath her.
“Real mature there, Hawkeye.”
I’m so mad at you. Hands are tight on the mug. Her little wrists have tan-lines. Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.
It’s a poem. You read it once. With Bobbi, maybe.
You haven’t told Bobbi.
She’s still talking. Zone back in. Hands are flying back and forth across her face.
“Can you move your hands less? I can’t read your lips.”
“Hey. Katie-Kate. It’s okay. Just – chill. Be chill.”
“It’s alright. Go slow.”
Riiiiiiiiiiiiighhhhht. Oooooohhhhkaaaaaaayyyyyy. Liiiiiiiiiikkkkkeeeee thiiiiiiiiisssss -
“Little faster than that.”
Glare. She takes a deep breath in.
I’m mad at you! Like, Clint, I am going to kill you mad at you! You idiot! You – I had to hear from your brother -
“Wasn’t exactly up to phone-calls - ”
You can still text, dumbass, you’ve got hands!
Shut up! Shut up and let me yell at you! God, you’re impossible. She drags her hands through her hair – it’s been cut, up in a ponytail, the way she thinks looks more sensible but actually looks kinda goofy to you. One hand covers her eyes. Pushes her shades up over her bangs.
Eyes look kinda red and puffy -
I should have been here, she says, and you can’t hear the break in the voice but you can see it. She bites her lip. If I hadn’t something? it wouldn’t have happened because I would have been here and you were an ass and you deserved to be left but you didn’t deserve this, and now everything’s ruined and goddamn it Barton you are something rude probably and how did you screw up this bad?
Take her by the shoulders. “I’m okay.”
She punches your arm, yells something that you don’t see because you’re covering your face. You look up. I KNOW YOU’RE OKAY, UNDOUBTEDLY INVENTIVE CURSEWORDS, BUT WHAT IF YOU HADN’T BEEN? WHAT IF -
She hides behind her hands. Big breath. Steeling herself.
Katie Kate. Likes to be in control. Scared of losing. Scared of failing.
Ohhhh. Barton, you dummy.
Oh Fraction. I haven’t read #19 yet but it’s ok, I still understand how not-understanding shit feels because I’ve read the last ten Hawkeyes. :D