#thegreatestmarksman

[weaknessforgallantry-blog]

@thegreatestmarksman

“Obviously the worst thing that can happen is getting kicked off the team.” Clint huffed, running a hand through his hair and sitting down in the nearest chair. He just needed to think about this rationally.

“Or you know, get rejected twice. That would be pretty fucking terrible.” He covered his face with his hands, not believing that they were actually having this conversation.

“Non, you overthinking this,” Remy decrees. He pops another beer open -- he’s practically sprawled across the chair he’s sitting in, most of a six pack sitting next to him. He’d broken in, because he’d never just knocked on Clint’s door in his life and wasn’t going to start now, but per usual he’d brought alcohol. He’s a good friend, alright?

Kind of.

“It’s not like he’ll kill you, so you might as well jus’ do it. You get rejected, I come over wit’ another six pack, everyt’ing is fine. An’ if it goes right, you’ll probably have sex. Worth the risk, mon ami.” Not that Remy’s thought about sex with Tony Stark. N o p e. Not him.

[twogunlawyer]

@thegreatestmarksman

“What brings me back here? Hopin’ you’d share some light on that.” After his wife and daughter’s death, Matthew had wanted to return to the future but it was rather a pipe dream in his lonely days.

[agecfthegeek-blog]

@thegreatestmarksman from x

>> “What’s the safest way to set a car on fire?”

“Why are you asking me? You think I know how to set a car on fire?” Clint paused, glancing around before stepping closer.

“Break the car window open, throw something flammable on the inside and hit it with something to light it. If you want to get really fun, cut open the fuel tank and let some of the gas leak out before doing it.”

He steps back again, shrugging. “Just don’t let me catch you, I technically work for the government but I can’t do anything unless I catch you in the act so.”

Uh, oops, he hadn’t pegged this guy at the bus stop as a government man. Sophie would be so disappointed. Eliot would be both mocking and pissed. Of course, if Eliot were around then Hardison wouldn’t have had to ask this guy anything. At least Hardison was right about the guy knowing how to set a car on fire. He just has -- that look about him. 

A very distinctive look, as Eliot would say.

“Okay, first up, I’ll have you know I am a law abiding citizen, for sure, and I was just askin’ for a... scene in my novel.” Hardison only barely manages to choke out this last phrase. Ugh. Pretending to be a writer. He can never tell anyone about this conversation. “Second, my man, brah, sir, I definitely asked for safe, not fun... although your suggestion is better than my girlfriend’s.”

[sarkisms]

thegreatestmarksman replied to your post: Clint thinks Sarkis is an asshole, but also really...

listen,, when clint slides into being completely infatuated with sarkis (which is coming up real quick ngl because clint goes from 0 to 1000 so quickly) he might poke and prod because he needs to know

WEEPS pls clint poke gently hes a soft old bear and needs to be handled like glass when u start digging but also kdfjgs i cant believe these idiots they started out so casual and now sarkis is full doof and clints just “dont mind me im just gonna slide on in here and now were married” sfdgsdfg

[khakeravdova-archive]

continued from here @thegreatestmarksman​

“I wasn’t really careless. I cared about the people I was saving, just not so much me.” If anything, he was hurt because he cared to much then not enough.

“You deliberately used a different definition of the word to try to invalidate my point,” Faina said sharply, digging through her pack of dwindling medical supplies. For someone who was a known associate of Romanova, he seemed like a liability. 

[captain-james-b-barnes]

@thegreatestmarksman from {x}

“It would be my pleasure, Clint.”  He leans in and presses a tiny kiss to Clint’s lips.  “Maybe I should hold the rest of them over your head until you get better...wouldn’t want you to strain anything, now would I?”

[blueeyestrenchcoat-archive-blog]

Birds and Bees - thegreatestmarksman

@thegreatestmarksman Cas had opened the tattoo shop "Free Wings" four years ago, almost as soon as he had graduated from art school. He was extremely successful, as far as tattoo shops went, and had a group of loyal customers that came exclusively to him and his brother for tattoos. Cas himself was covered in tattoos. He had sleeves on both arms. On his left arm, four birds flew up from his wrist to his shoulder, where they met a pair of black wings that spread across his upper back. His other arm had water climbing up his arm, with waves ending in religious symbols. Around his neck was a tattoo of a rosary, designed so it looked like it was choking him. Today was sort of an anniversary for Cas and Gabe, the last time they had seen their mom. They had taken to celebrating the date to keep from thinking about the truth about it. Cas hadn't gotten a chance to get anything for Gabe yet, so he went to the flowershop down the street. The bell jingled as Cas entered, and he looked around for a moment before spotting the man at the counter. The very nice looking man. He walked over, smiling. "Hi. I need a bouquet that says 'remember how awesome it is that we're on our own?' It's for my brother."

[weaknessforgallantry-blog]

@thegreatestmarksman

They just hook up sometimes, usually because Remy is still hanging around the bar at last call. And, okay, maybe Remy’s kind of... stopped going home with other people... but he and Clint aren’t dating. They just fuck, sometimes. And text. Or, you know, “”””sext””” as the kids are calling it, these days. Clint takes really stupid nudes but makes up for it by being really hot.

But so, anyway: not dating. Possibly not even friends, Remy never assumes that kind of thing. Also, Valentine’s Day is a Tuesday. Clint works Tuesday. (Okay, Clint kind of always works.) So, even if Remy had been inclined to -- what -- sweep the guy off his feet, or something, which he is not -- the timing doesn’t really work out.

So on the Tuesday in question, Remy comes in at his usual time, orders his usual beer, and plops a heart-shaped box of artisan chocolates on the bartop like it’s no big deal. Which it isn’t. Everyone likes chocolates, okay, and they’re really good chocolates, and the place is empty as usual on Tuesdays, so it’s not like he’s going to embarrass himself.

About the chocolates he says, to Clint, “You know they jus’ flat out wouldn’t give them to me in a box shaped differently? Apparently no one wants square boxes in February, jus’ this tacky shit.”