WIP. Long, plotty origin story for Clint, which tracks his progress from the circus to SHIELD, to the movies. Explores his relationship with Coulson and Natasha beautifully. It’s a slow burn to the Clint/Coulson aspect - the latest chapter is the first to makes it clear where their relationship is heading, but it’s worth the wait.
submitted by thestreetballet
Anonymous said: Is there a Clint/Coulson chat around somewhere? I'm sure I've heard of it, but I can't remember where :(
There sure is, anon! You can find access to the Clint/Coulson chat here:
It’s great fun and totally worth a visit, but you do need to have an AIM screen name to join. Give it a shot!
katerprise said: Does anyone know the best place to leave a prompt? I'd love to see a story with a deaged Coulson, (established relationship with Clint before he gets deaged) and the team realising just how much he does for them and Clint freaking out because even as a kid he hated other kids.
Good places to leave prompts include:
You can also try:
… or right here! Would anyone like to have a go at this?
So, it seems that I write silly stuff whenever I’m stressed about either work or more serious types of writing. Work was very stressful. And the Big Bang fic is complicated. Have some silly fic.
Intermission: Rule Eight (3835 words) by Selenay
Fandom: The Avengers (2012)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Characters: Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark
Summary: The making out in supply closets part of Clint’s secret relationship plan was a total disaster. In retrospect, they agreed that Clint probably should have realised that ambushing Phil and trying to pull him into a supply closet would cause a problem.
Explaining to medical why Clint had a black eye and needed two stitches in his eyebrow was not one of Phil’s favourite moments.
The purchase request for new shelving in storage closet IB-188 was just plain embarrassing.
Anonymous said: There were always men in suits, for as long as Clint could remember. There were men in suits the day his parents died; men with solemn faces and solemn eyes and solemn we're-very-sorry's. There were men in suits at the orphanage; men in labels with wives in jewels, looking for children who were smarter, cleaner, more polite than Clint could ever be. There were men in suits at the circus; men with loud voices, angry voices, get-the-hell-out-of-here-or-else voices.