"If anyone asks —"
"I’m telling them you broke it.”
"The really bad thing is they'd believe you because I break shit all the time."

JVL
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
trying on a metaphor
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@cornfedtrouble
"If anyone asks —"
"I’m telling them you broke it.”
"The really bad thing is they'd believe you because I break shit all the time."
"The Earth Sucks, Let’s Move to Mars" as commissioned by quickxsilver
Get up.
"I said, what the fuck are you doing here?”
”Lower your weapon. I was asked to be here. I come in peace, there’s no need to be so hostile.”
"You'll forgive me if I'm a little skeptical after our last meeting." His sarcasm is palpable, and he doesn't lower his weapon even a centimeter. "What do you want? Who asked you to be here?"
Excuse me.
Send me an “Excuse Me” and I’ll tell you my muse’s reaction to being interrupted while…
8. singing
Clint didn’t hear the key in the door; he stood at the stove, his back to the door, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in a pan. “I’m taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line. I’m in a New York state of mind,” he sang, and it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized anybody was even there.
He felt his cheeks heat up as he turned, grabbing a plate off the island counter. “Oh, uh, hey, Bobbi. Want a sammich?”
"I’m not going to use Huntress—" she says with a smile at him. "Maybe my old alias yeah? Mockingbird? Though people might just think I’m trying to be hip and cool with those Hunger Games Movies out, huh?" she asked with a little laugh.
Clint grinned and nodded. "I thought those were Mockingjays, but there's nothing wrong with appearing hip and cool, right?" He would definitely like to work with her again, even if it would be slightly odd. He was certain they could put their romantic history aside, right?
"Yes, sir, it has. Sorry I couldn’t make it to DC. Was working on a solo mission."
"Some mission."
"You alright? How’d it go?"
"You have no idea." The less said about it, the better.
"Aside from coming back to find out I'm out of a job? Yeah, I'm alright. The mission went well. What about you? I heard about the face-off with the Winter Soldier."
After ripping him a new one for not returning her calls, Nat had brought him up to speed on everything that had happened.
Excuse me.
Send me an “Excuse Me” and I’ll tell you my muse’s reaction to being interrupted while…
8. singing
Clint didn’t hear the key in the door; he stood at the stove, his back to the door, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in a pan. “I’m taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line. I’m in a New York state of mind,” he sang, and it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized anybody was even there.
He felt his cheeks heat up as he turned, grabbing a plate off the island counter. “Oh, uh, hey, Bobbi. Want a sammich?”
"You don’t think Nat’s decked a pap or two?" Clint smirks. "They consider it a hazard of the job. It’s a risk they take to get pics. Besides, if the green giant can face it, so can you."
He purposefully avoids answering the ‘miss me’ question, because the answer is yes, sometimes, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that just yet.
"Yeah, but she’s the Black Widow…” Bobbi points out. “I’m… not.” she huffs out. “I’m Agent 19… and for now… I’m okay with that—” she says, looking over and finds an odd little look on Clint’s face. “But I’ll… think about it, yeah?” she intones gently, giving Clint a sweet smile.
"If it's the lack of an animalistic call sign that's throwing you off, I'm sure we could come up with something more catching than 'Agent 19.'"
That sweet smile kills him every time he sees it, but he can't help returning it. "Yeah, okay. I can put in a good word for you with my boss."
"Once. Maybe twice? Don’t stop on my account." ( he wouldn’t say that he’s leering, but… Yeah, that’s a lie. He’s leering. )
« ♚ » ;;
❛ i’m mildly concerned by your implications. ❜
( intrigued might be the proper phrasing, all things considered. )
"Well, at first, I thought I walked through the wrong door, but then I see a hot guy about to take off his pants, and it's like, hey, maybe this is the right door after all."
Clint frowned, his brow furrowing as he watched Tony. When it didn’t look like Tony was going to say anything, Clint lifted his chin, nodding at him. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
It took him a moment to work past his tightened throat that refused to let sound through. Grunting as he cleared it up and with a gruff, uneven tone he mutters. "Nothing."
Clint snorted and shook his head. "Bullshit. Something's got you upset. What is it? Do I need to go find Pepper? 'Cause I think she corralled Nat for some girl time, but I can totally bust in there and break her out if you need her." God knows he wasn't good at talking to people when they were emotionally compromised, but it was pretty obvious that something was bothering Tony.
"Touch me and I will tear you apart."
"Pretty sure if anybody's got the right to be the one pissed off and making threats here, it's me."
"It’s been a while, hasn’t it?"
"Yes, sir, it has. Sorry I couldn't make it to DC. Was working on a solo mission."
open starter;
« ♚ » ;;
❛ hasn’t anyone ever taught you how to knock? i’m a tad busy, if you don’t mind. ❜
( or about to be a tad indecent, rather. )
"Once. Maybe twice? Don't stop on my account." ( he wouldn't say that he's leering, but... Yeah, that's a lie. He's leering. )
Clint frowned, his brow furrowing as he watched Tony. When it didn't look like Tony was going to say anything, Clint lifted his chin, nodding at him. "Hey. What's wrong?"
Excuse me.
Send me an “Excuse Me” and I’ll tell you my muse’s reaction to being interrupted while…
8. singing
Clint didn’t hear the key in the door; he stood at the stove, his back to the door, flipping a grilled cheese sandwich in a pan. “I’m taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River line. I’m in a New York state of mind,” he sang, and it wasn’t until she spoke that he realized anybody was even there.
He felt his cheeks heat up as he turned, grabbing a plate off the island counter. “Oh, uh, hey, Bobbi. Want a sammich?”
"Yeah exactly… you were a circus act Clint - I mean that in the best way possible mind you—” she says flashing him a smile, “You’re camera ready Clint… I am not” she says with a sigh. “With my luck, I’d end up decking a pap my first week on the team…” she snorted out before taking another bite and chewing thoughtfully.
"What you miss me or something Hawkeye?" she then asked after swallowing her bite.
"You don't think Nat's decked a pap or two?" Clint smirks. "They consider it a hazard of the job. It's a risk they take to get pics. Besides, if the green giant can face it, so can you."
He purposefully avoids answering the 'miss me' question, because the answer is yes, sometimes, and he doesn't know how to deal with that just yet.
It’s worked for white people, I figured I might as well give it a shot.
GET THIS GUY TO DISNEY WORLD DAMN IT
I want you to go man!
if this was a white girl this would have had the notes 3 weeks ago
People are sending him racist messages telling him it’s not gonna happen and he doesn’t belong in Disney World over this post. So we’re gonna reblog it even more.
SIGNAL BOOST
I WILL REBLOG THIS EVERY TIME IT SHOWS UP ON MY DASH.
soon, friend. soon
We’re so close to getting this guy to Disney World!!
What kind of aßhats message this guy saying it ain’t gonna happen?! OH it’s gonna happen!! I
"I'm flesh and blood, but not human."
Clint shrugs. “Well, I mean, we’re all flesh and blood, so-” He cuts off, eyes widening slightly as the rest of Logan’s words register. “Wait. What do you mean by ‘not human,’ man?” He takes a wary step back, eyes narrowing now as he looks Logan up and down. “You look pretty human to me, bub.”
Logan extended his claws and gave a slash at the other arm, showing how it healed. “I’m almost two centuries old.”
Clint's eyes widened. He'd honestly thought that he'd seen everything but apparently not everything. "Shit, are you serious? I mean, there have been rumors about people who could do some pretty fantastical shit, but man. That's wicked."