I have had a very crappy afternoon that included fucking up a quote and dealing with a customer who wouldn’t stop talking for half an hour after closing time, and if someone would like to write me a tiny wee ficlet where one of the boys has a crappy afternoon and the other one makes it better, I would be very, very grateful. Please and thank you. *puppydog eyes*
"We need to check you over, Agent Barton."
Clint stared at the wall. “We’ve done that,” he said, despite the fact that he hadn’t allowed anyone within even arm’s length of him since they’d gotten back. Everything ached, everything hurt, but he knew the difference between the general pains of a mission gone bad and serious injury. ”We’re done. Sign the form. I’m out of here.”
The doctor sighed, his clipboard hanging at his side in one hand. “You haven’t-“
"Sign the form," Clint snapped.
"That’s enough." Phil was leaning against the wall, a few paces behind the doctor. There was strain on his face, in his voice, and Clint flinched from the almost inaudible note of anger in his words. "Agent Barton, you will-"
"Just leave me the fuck alone," Clint snarled, his gaze locked on his feet. He’d pay for it later, but right now, he just wanted to be alone to lick his wounds. To give himself some distance from Phil’s disapproval, from the inevitable argument. From the inevitable feeling of loss that came with it.
There was a moment of silence, and then, he heard the sound of footsteps. The door opened. The door shut. His shoulders hunched forward, his jaw locked as he struggled against the urge to punch something, to scream or curse, or just break down. His fingers tightened on the edge of the exam table, knuckles straining with the force of his grip.
He squeezed his eyes shut and struggled to breathe.
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Time to put the witch hat on the Inflatable Hulk!
James Rogers and Francis Barton can get it
Not gonna lie, making scifigrl47 ship that is one of my prouder moments in this fandom.
I just like to imagine Natasha going, “I understand, dear, his father and I had a thing for a few years.”
"OH MY GOD MOM."
Get your first look at Paul Rudd as Scott Lang in Marvel’s “Ant-Man,” now in production in San Francisco and in theaters July 17, 2015!
I have never been this unexcited for set pics :-/
Without Janet, why the fuck even bother with this movie?
I… Cannot bring myself to care. At all.
I have seen every Marvel movie multiple times in theaters. Want to know how many times I saw Avengers. Marvel?
Thirteen times. My friends and I had a contest, it was a JOKE. ”How many times have you seen Avengers?” Not ‘if.’ ’How many times?’
We’re all female, Marvel. We’re girls. And we weren’t really psyched by the lack of female characters you gave us, but you know what? We were reassured by the ones you did. We dealt. We tolerated. We waited patiently.
And when you announced Ant-Man, I told myself, at least we’ll get Jan. Jan, who was one of the BEST parts of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Jan, the funny, sassy, fashion obsessed, girly-girl who wanted to be a hero, who didn’t need someone’s death to motivate her, who didn’t need someone to suffer for her to want to do what’s right.
Janet Van Dyne, who gave the Avengers their name. I told myself, it would be worth it. For Jan.
And then you pulled this.
I will not see Ant-Man. I will not blog about your dumb ‘white boy pain’ movie. You fridged one of the most iconic female super heroes in your canon, off-screen, to further manpain.
40+% of your audience for “Guardians of the Galaxy” was women. And girls. Little girls like my nieces, who deserve heroes of their own. How sad that you’re determined not to give them to us.
Boycott Ant-Man. That’s my tag. Boycott Ant-Man. Until we get Carol. And Jennifer. And Heather. And Misty. And Angela. Until we get Monica. And Patsy. And Greer. Until we get Sersi. And Jessica. And Kate. And America.
Until we get females in your movies that aren’t killed to further a man’s path to heroism, because why else would we want to do the right thing?
Until we get Jan.