Thanks to kastle I’m just laying in bed and staring at my ceiling and thinking about them and their stupid fucking faces and their obvious feelings for each other and their strong and complex personalities and how they just FIT and how they both deserve good things and each other and Frank’s soft soft soft face in the elevator and Karen’s little nervous smile when she said “be careful” and now I want to write 100000 fics and make 100000 sad playlists about them.
The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone.
Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning.
All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free.
And it was gone.
Clint was gonna shoot somebody.
Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.
yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend.
Which. What the fuck. Assuming we’re looking at physics equations here and that W = work and P = power, the formula should look like this: P = W/t. Simple. The angle is throwing me for a loop, if W & P stand for what they usually stand for it doesn’t matter.
As for the sketch at the end, I’m not even sure what it’s supposed to show…