Or, How Bucky Barnes Nearly Ruined His Tough-Guy Rep
The trail mix was gone.
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.
Posted at 3:29 PM, 24379 notes
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