Clint has a theory: shoot to kill. If it doesn’t die, shoot it again.
He’s almost positive that this—coupled with his tendency to go a little harder on the whiskey than is strictly advisable when he’s off duty, his penchant for trying to goad Agent Romanov into a smile by near-missing her in target practice, and his utter refusal to retain the sleeves on his SHIELD-issued uniform—is what drew Agent Coulson’s attention to him to begin with. Coulson’s got a thing for competent, and a whole separate thing for ruthless, and a third, bordering-on-unsettling thing for Clint’s bare arms while they’re occupied with being competently ruthless at people. All things considered, Clint is pretty sure that his theory…life mantra…whatever (“Shoot it to death—no, really, shoot it to death”) is Phil’s favorite thing about him.
Well. He says pretty sure…
“You killed him!” Coulson snaps, rounding on him. “Killed him!”
“It,” Clint corrects, waving the WiiMote again. “It being the combinations of pixels and numbers and StarkTech that you’ve apparently developed some kind of emotional attachment to, and yes, yes I did kill it. I killed it real good. And do you know why? It’s because I own at this. Suck it, Coulson.”
OMG GUYS MY FAVORITE AUTHOR IS WRITING CLINT/COULSON. PLEASE READ.
for those who don’t get the references, it’s a MapCrunch thing.
happy valentine’s day, everyone.
and yes, fuck you, whore.
FUCKING LOOK AT THOR
I DON’T NEED A SHIELD
MY ELBOW WILL REPEL THE BLAST
AND IT FUCKING DOES
THOR HAS NO NEED FOR YOUR PUNY MORTAL WEAPONS