ada clinton barton

A thought occurs to me:

Please, if you will, picture Assistant District Attorney Clint Barton when he encounters his first case of “distracted driving – playing the pokemon game.”

He squints at the copy of the ticket (a digital scan that perfectly captures the officer’s chicken-scratch handwriting), confused. He tilts his head left and right, not necessarily because he’s not heard of this new Pokemon bullshit (of course he’s heard about it, Wade posts daily Facebook updates about his latest catches, Tony and Miles keep competing to find the rare ones), but because people don’t actually play while driving. Right? ‘Cause he’s not exactly a saint in the driver’s seat, either, but playing a location-based game in traffic’s gotta be the dumbest

He says all this at lunch, of course, and Tony laughs hard enough that he almost hurts himself.  “How else am I supposed to clean out all the Pokestops in the neighborhood?” he demands, raising his hands when Bruce shoots him a dirty look. “Not with the kids in the car. Miles already declared that a party foul.”

“Please tell me that’s not the only reason,” Natasha mutters.

Tony waves her off, and Clint just stares at him. Except gaping over at Tony’s side of the table means noticing the way Bucky and Steve keep avoiding his eyes. He groans. “Not you! You’re supposed to be the voices of reason!”

Steve pinks up immediately. “We’re not proud of it,” he defends. “We just grew up on Pokemon, you know?”

“Gotta catch ‘em all,” Bucky agrees. The way he says it, it sounds like the end of a prayer.

Clint rubs a hand over his face. “It’s like we’re in some fucked-up alternate reality where I’m the only mature adult in the bunch,” he mutters.

Natasha pats his leg. “Don’t worry,” she soothes. “The next season of House of Cards will drop soon. Give you something to watch in the car.”

Everybody’s heads snap up in creepy unison, and Clint sighs.

He hates everything. 

Happy birthday, Kate Bishop!

And did I mention that Monday (December 15) was Kate Bishop’s MPU birthday? No, I did not, because I am the literal worst at everything. But it was, and as is tradition, I must commemorate this day with a (belated) ficlet!

Tommy

Tommy tosses her one of the leftover sodas from the snack table (but only after his guard-slash-babysitter confiscates it right out of his pocket). “Happy birthday,” he says. “Next year, I’ll buy you flowers.”

“He won’t buy you flowers,” the guard assures her.

“You don’t know that,” Tommy returns, and the guard rolls his eyes.

It’s only after she cracks open the Pepsi and helps herself to a swig that she realizes the rest of the group is staring at her. “What?” she asks, wiping her mouth.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Phil/Clint MPU: 24. Orly? (Thank you!)

From the mixed up files of Phil Coulson’s text message archive:

11:37 a.m.
Me: I have to work on something through lunch. I’ll find you after.

11:38 a.m.
Clint Barton: orly?

11:39 a.m.
Me: You do realize I have no idea what that means, right?

11:40 a.m.
Clint Barton: what
Clint Barton: are you actually 100
Clint Barton: it’s official. tony’s right. i’m dating an old man.

11:41 a.m.
Clint Barton: i really should change your name in my cell phone to spinster coulson keeper of cats

11:42 a.m.
Me: I’m ‘rly’ sure Spinster Coulson wouldn’t have given you rug burn this morning, but what do I know?

11:45 a.m.
Darcy Lewis: I don’t know what you did but clint’s sputtering and staring at his phone and making pained noises so I assume it’s a sex thing and am both impressed and super super grossed out. so good work but also ew.

uofmdragon  asked:

MPU Clint/Coulson

send me a ship and I’ll tell you who:

  • shops for groceries

Phil has this thing about both Costco and Target. Like. Clint’s not gonna call it an obsession, because he likes having sex and would like to continue it into the future, but– Yeah. You try going there without Phil and see what happens to the health of your relationship. So Clint’s the one who heads to the grocery store for the actual real grocery store stuff–the produce, mostly–but everything else, Phil buys at either Costco or Target.

And that’s why they have enough paper towel to sop up the Colorado River. Sorry, Phil, but nobody needs that many rolls of paper towel. Nobody.

  • kills the spiders

They’re pretty fifty-fifty on this. The only real probably is that if Natasha stops by and spots one, she frees it. It’ll come back, Nat. It’ll come back, and assault Clint when he’s on the john, and it’ll be your fault.

  • comes home drunk at 3am

Phil always claims that it’s Clint after his weekly night out with Nat and Bruce, but here’s the thing:  once a month, Phil heads out with Jasper, Rhodes, Pepper, Melinda May, and probably a couple other folks, and every time, he appears on the doorstep, grinny and beer-soaked, at like 3:30 in the morning. So you tell Clint who it really is.

  • makes breakfast

Phil’s a pretty good cook, but Clint’s always loved a good hearty breakfast, so it’s usually Clint.

  • remembers to feed the fish

Phil. Until Sandy decides to go fishing one Saturday and ruins a patch of carpet in the living room. Then, Darcy feeds the fish, because they become office fish.

  • decorates the apartment house

They’re pretty good at sharing this. Clint’s not picky or anything, it just– He’s got an okay eye for color, and he likes things comfortable. A lot of their life involves Phil coming up with suggestions and Clint either narrowing them down or vetoing them. Or pulling out the puppy-dog eyes until Phil caves on something.

  • initiates duets

Clint’s pretty notorious for humming (kind of tunelessly) to himself, and Phil usually starts singing on top of it. And suddenly, they’re upsetting their damn cat as they belt out “Bohemian Rhapsody.” And it is always Bohemian Rhapsody. Always.

  • falls asleep first

Whoever had a worse day at work, so usually Phil.

Sunday Six.

Chain of Custody, Chapter 10: “Masks, Smoke, and Mirrors”

Bruce frowns, his lips rolling together. “Meaning?”

“Meaning Fury likes to keep us compartmentalized, everybody divided.” Clint sighs before he glances over, his head shaking slightly. “Nobody knows everything, except maybe him. Keeps us from sticking our fingers where they don’t belong. Phil says I’m supposed to appreciate it.”

Bruce snorts quietly. “That’s one word for it.”

“No fucking kidding.” Clint swings his legs off the arm of the chair and shifts around to perch on the very edge, his elbows on his thighs and his glass dangling between his fingers. “I respect the guy, and I trust him, but I still wonder about what he’s up to nine-tenths of the time—and that’s without having my kids on the line.”

Chain of Custody, Chapter 11: “ [ no working title ] ”

“Stop.”

He’s still staring into the sink as he says it, his own voice sounding foreign and strangled even to his own ears, and Tony abruptly stops talking. Bruce shakes his head as he rinses out his toothbrush and sink, and for a moment, the only sound in the room is the running water and his own, uneven breathing. He splashes his face before he shuts it off and allows the drops to roll off his chin and back into the sink.

When he raises his head, he expects to see a stranger in the mirror—some Mr. Hyde version of himself, maybe, or his father—but instead, he stares at a tired-looking forty-year-old with sad eyes.

MPU Future Interests: “Second”

“I thought you guys already agreed to the whole ‘dinner on Friday’ thing,” Amy says. She’s playing with her straw and half-ignoring her enormous burger. This, Miles thinks, is the fundamental problem with the feeding of teenage girls: they order meals as big as their heads, then mutter to themselves about bathing suits and hardly touch the thing. If he ever has a daughter …

“He probably wants to seal the deal,” Dot says with a shrug.

“Okay, first, I’m married. The deal’s well and truly sealed.” Dot snorts at him as she reaches for her soda, but Amy smiles slyly.

What I Did on My Summer Break: “Pepper and Tony”

“You’re bored,” Pepper observed.

Tony almost dropped his phone as he twisted to stare at her. “Me? Bored? Now?” he asked. When she nodded, he rolled his eyes. “I’m on an enormous ship full of fitness rooms and activity rooms and restaurants and an actual casino with a woman who packed a different skimpy swimsuit for each day of our trip. Nice choice today, by the way. Did I mention that already?”

He traced the cut out that ran along her hip, and she snorted. “You mean besides when you peeled it off me this morning?”

“I don’t remember having that conversation. Must’ve been distracted.”

Sunday Six.

Chain of Custody, Chapter 6: “The Kids are Alright”

Clint rolls his eyes as he reaches for his soda. “Rogers, everything you touch turns into a democracy.” Steve’s face pinches, deepening his frown, and Clint points his soda in the other man’s direction. “Here’s an example: how’d we pick where we grabbed lunch today?”

“Proximity?” Steve suggests.

“Voting. Same as we picked this picnic table, same as we picked the place we went for Bucky’s birthday, same as we pick everything when you’re part of the group.”

MPU One-Shot: “Water of the Womb”

He’s always in Memphis or Jacksonville or Tulsa, but he always asks the lady at the Kroger if he can add a book of stamps to his bag of protein bars and Gatorade. And he always receives a thank you note in Steve’s crisp handwriting.

“You could settle down,” his mom says one Sunday. “Bucky did.”

“You never call him Bucky,” Simon replies.

180 Days and Counting: “ [ no working title ] ”

“You seem like Mama did when Daddy first got hurt.”

Darcy almost dribbled beer down her chin, she choked so hard. “Say what?” she asked, still sputtering a little.

Alva sighed and pillowed her head against Darcy’s shoulder. “Mama was quiet after Daddy got hurt,” she explained. “Like how little animals—like kitties and bunnies—go someplace safe and hide when they’re scared. Only you’re not hiding, you’re right here.”