This is how you know they’re actually brothers.
this is my favourite scene in the movie i’m not even kidding
it was time for babbus
and by babbus, i mean au where thor and loki have 2 babbu girlses. i noticed all the women on asgard, down to the mini volstagglings, have this big curly braided hairdo.
I don’t even know…
he gets bored
Why does this not have more notes. Frigging hilarious.
THIS! WINS THE INTERWEBZ!
Aww <3 :”””’)
Phil is one of the few people that Clint Barton has trusted with the knowledge that he can’t read, and he knows it’s a trust not given lightly. He’s helped as best he can, found information about adult reading coaches, dyslexia testing and so on, but Clint likes this - quietly reading to himself in Phil’s office where one of Phil’s filing cabinet drawers is filled with kids books that are locked away at the end of the day. Their secret.
He reads other things too, sounding out the brand names on Phil’s highlighter pens, packages of paper, laboriously making his way through the address labels on Phil’s mail. He’s better than he realises, and a fast learner from what Phil can tell; he’s no expert on learning to read.
Today though, Clint’s brought some Love Hearts with him, and he’s sitting on the edge of Phil’s desk, reading each one aloud slowly and deliberately.
"You-ree g-gou-r. Gour-g. Gour- guss?"
“‘You’re gorgeous’,” Phil corrects patiently. “Soft G.”
Clint pops it into his mouth and crunches, slides another one out.
"Hold me," he reads, and that’s a simple one. He has the quiet look of pride that he gets when he knows he has it exactly right, and Phil aches for him.
"Dat- Date me."
Phil stifles a sound of displeasure, because it’s just Clint doing his thing where he reads everything in the office that’s short and unintimidating, not anything else. Just a food he can read is all.
"Well done," he manages.
"He-art th-rob. Heart throb!"
"That you are." They smile at each other and Phil turns back to his computer. Not that he’ll be able to concentrate when Clint’s thigh is half across his desk and he’s saying what he’s saying, but it doesn’t do to stare.
"Kiss me," he reads, and Clint holds it out, message-first.
Phil takes it gingerly, traitorous heart leaping in his chest. He feels like a little kid on the playground or something. “Thank you?”
There’s a tiny smile on Clint’s lips as he tears the rest of the roll of sweets open and sorts through them. He picks one out and mouths the words to himself silently before placing it down between them, sliding it across the desk.
"I like you," he says.
NB these are the kinds of sweets I mean! IDK if you have exactly these in america/elsewhere.
I love these ones, they’re harder to find in Canada than they used to be.