#inauritus

[partsofthemachine]

@inauritus

“What’s the fun in playing in safe?” Maybe fun was the wrong word. Most people wouldn’t call this fun by any stretch. Sitting on the bathroom counter of some cheap diner halfway to Clint’s apartment, skirt hiked up so that Clint could stitch up her leg where the bullet had grazed her. Technically, the mission had been successful, but not without a small firefight. And it wasn’t like she was dying. Just bleeding all over the place.

“Fine,” she drew the word out between her teeth. She poked the top of his head so he’d look up at her. ‘I’ll get back up next time. Stop making that face.’

[worldknowshername]

@inauritus​ cont’d

“Jesus, Clint.” He could at least let her say her piece before he started with the I’m fine bullshit. “That’s not what this is about. I mean... there’s bullshit ninja zombies running around trying to earthquake the city or what the fuck ever. Who gives a shit if any of are fine?” She tried to keep eye contact with him, tried to make it easier for him to hear her. But she had to flinch away for the next part. Looked down. There was a hole in the knee of his jeans and she couldn’t help but pick at the frayed edged. Focus on that to center herself.

“I just... I need you to do this for me. Please.” So soft she could barely hear herself. And that seemed particularly cruel to do to him but she couldn’t speak any louder. “I need someone I can trust looking out for... Malcolm’s already been on the front lines of this shit too many times. And you know Trish will drag him back out there. She’s not going to just sit it out and... I can’t let anything happen to them. If I don’t... If I don’t make it I need you to look after them, okay?”

[partsofthemachine]

@inauritus

“Come on, Barton. You’re like, my favorite ex-husband.” A beat. “Okay, second favorite. But if you get a cheesecake recipe as good as Mack’s, I could be persuaded to change the rankings.” She wasn’t sure how well that joke was going to go over. Clint’s moody bullshit was always hard to judge. “You can talk to me, you know. With actual human words and everything.”

[partsofthemachine]

@inauritus cont’d

[sms: barton] I pumped and dumped. Which is the opposite of a hangover cure, honestly. [sms: barton] But no drunk baby. I’m acing this motherhood thing. [sms: barton] Shit. All I’ve got is strained pears and rice porridge. [sms: barton] Baby food, hangover cure? N/n?

[partsofthemachine]

@inauritus cont’d

[sms: clint 😎] okay is relative [sms: clint 😎] i mean i’m high in a mcdonald’s and spent all my cash on mcnuggets and a milkshake [sms: clint 😎] but that’s better than living with supervillains right? [sms: clint 😎] also i’m pretty sure i got kicked out of college [sms: clint 😎] the bio department was bullshit [sms: clint 😎] my adviser didn’t even *believe* in aliens [sms: clint 😎] you’re not going to kick me out right? [sms: clint 😎] i don’t have rent money [sms: clint 😎] and i kinda don’t know how to get back rn

[chocolochino]

@inauritus continued from here

[sms: sam wilson]    hey! it was never my intention to share your dick pick. [sms: sam wilson]    i didn’t know he was reading over my shoulder until he took my phone. [sms: sam wilson]   i mean… i shouldn’t have opened it in the kitchen…. [sms: sam wilson]   but it wasn’t my fault.

[text: clint] you weren’t supposed to open it where anyone else could see. [text: clint] I mean, not everyone is supposed to see my junk. [text: clint] you’re lucky I don’t actually blame you. [text: clint]  just don’t show anyone else, yeah?

[wanderingguest]

+ @inauritus​ ( x )

[Barton, C.]  The sheer number of questions I have currently is staggering. [Barton, C.]  You are an enigma, Barton. [Barton, C.]  Why was the bartender chasing you?

[tclckinetic]

⌚ how long do they need to decide what to wear in the morning?

Surprisingly, not long at all! Brent likes to keep his stuff neat and ready to go. In his own house, the closet was organised by color, starting by favorite color all the way to least favorite. In college he can’t afford being so tidy, so he just separates what he’s going to wear next morning before heading to bed.