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[mykingdom]

the shipping picture prompt meme
SIMILAR TO THE PICTURE PROMPT MEME & THE SMUT PICTURE PROMPT MEME ONLY FOR SHIPPING.

i. COMMENT WITH CHARACTER
ii. OTHERS LEAVE A PICTURE (OR TWO OR THREE....)
iii. REPLY TO THEM WITH A SETTING BASED ON THE IMAGES.

THIS POST WILL BE IMAGE HEAVY.

Link to an image:   <a href=IMAGEURL>TEXT</a>

Embed an image in your reply:   <img src=IMAGEURL>

You can control width and height of your pictures:   <img src=IMAGEURL width=500> OR <img src=IMAGEURL height=INSERT>

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pнιl coυlѕon | мarvel | oтa

[twentytwenty]

Re: pнιl coυlѕon | мarvel | oтa

[instinctiveshooter]

[twentytwenty]

[ Neither of them like crowds.

He can feel Clint tense beside him, can see the very edges of his straight back out of his peripheral vision and part of him aches. He damn well knows he's doing it too. He categories every human being within their radius as a potential threat. Every person that brushes up against them in their haste to get through makes his fight instinct go into hyper drive. New York has left its scars deep down in the bones of them and there is nothing he can do about it. They will never be normal, never be two average people because everything in the whole wide world is a threat. But this is supposed to be about them. They're supposed to have shrugged the shroud of SHIELD off enough to enjoy themselves.

Because this is a holiday, not a mission.

So Phil tugs his bag up higher over his shoulder and reaches out, brushes the back of Clint's hand with his own to telegraph his intent seconds before he winds their fingers together. ] When we get to the hotel I want the biggest Martini they can give me. And those weird little peanut things.

[ Guiding them both out through the exit to where their car is waiting. ]

[instinctiveshooter]

[Clint knows he isn't relaxed when he catalogs a newspaper as a weapon. The constant hyper vigilance is exhausting. Next time he goes on holiday he's going to pose as a millionaire tourist. Then he won't have to deal with crowds. He can sail around in a limo without giving two fucks.

The fingers are lifeline. Clint is about to approach a mother and pram when the clasp him. He tilts his head towards Coulson.]

I'll raid the bar. They waiters keep the best nuts for themselves.

[Hell he'd stop at nothing to give Phil what he wanted. Phil is still half a ghost to him. He keeps checking to see that he's still there. He flashes him a smirk before he checks the car over and clambers in.]

I want Sex on the Beach. [Terrible he know.]

[twentytwenty]

I didn't think a Slippery Nipple would be your forté.

[ They're in the backseat, cases secure in the trunk and the driver's badge given the once over, when he finally relaxes. He buckles up as they take off and glances once out of the window. ]

No criminality today, or for the rest of the week. We're tourists.

[instinctiveshooter]

I'm full of surprises.

[Clint relaxes into the leather seats. His eyes are sharp though, noting the people who saw their car pull out of the parking slot.]

What if I start a bar fight? That's the type of criminality I can get behind.

[twentytwenty]

I'm not bailing you out.

[ He closes his eyes, lets his head drop back against the seat. ] You get arrested it's on your own initiative. I'm enjoying my holiday.

[instinctiveshooter]

What kinda holiday would you have without me? Don't say relaxing. We know you'd be bored to tears in two minutes.

[Clint slumps lower in the seat and pulls sunglasses out of his pocket. He slides them on for the cool look and so he can disguise the fact he's still looking out the car window.]

[twentytwenty]

Stop.

[ He covers Clint's knee and gives a light squeeze. ] This is a vacation. We're not on the clock.

[accurize]

[twentytwenty]

You're quiet.

[ He frames it as an observation, something small and quiet and unloaded. If there's anything Phil Coulson knows how to do it's work his angle carefully. His hands are curled around the steering wheel and his gaze is on the road and he gives Barton all the space she might need.

He's never really been interested in clipping her wings. A lot of people have. A lot of people have done stints in Siberia with a pistol bruise against the softer parts of their skin but that's besides the point.

She's his responsibility.

She's something else too. ]

[accurize]

[ He frames it as an observation — chances are, Claire doesn't talk in anything but. It's strange, this new-old-thing. It feels inevitable and at the same time fragile, because despite things like workplace policy and their age difference they're still worlds apart — she can't imagine that the things he wants long-term match up with hers, though that's not to say she doesn't want them.

(It's just— Bartons don't do well with failure. Imagined or real.

That's not to say she doesn't love him, either. Bartons are even worse at look before you leap.)

Her forehead is pressed against the pasesenger window, fogging up the glass with each exhale. Claire almost jumps when he talks; she exhales a laugh, self-deprecating, and turns in her seat a little so she can face him. ]

Just— thinking, I guess.

[twentytwenty]

[ He glances over, fleeting enough that she's not pinned under his microscopic gaze, before his eyes go back to the road. ]

You never think that quietly. [ Here is the Agent that talked every chance she got, idle chatter over every frequency because it got under his skin, because he could never resist trading barbs with her back. There are rumours. There's a betting pool. But he'd been professional to a point and he never thought it would be anything else. He was never meant to be her handler this long. He was supposed to pick her out and train her up and then send her off into the big bad world of espionage.

He thinks it was round about the time that she brought in Romanoff that he knew. Both of them bleeding on to his carpet and her cocksure grin and soft sorry, boss. couldn't do it.

He's never shaking either of them. He doesn't want to. ]

Should I be concerned?

[accurize]

[ It's true— she doesn't. Claire's a specialist by rank and a junior agent by experience; it helped, that she'd had two heavyweights backing her up. The truth of it is, there's no-one else she'd rather spend her time with. Natasha and Coulson, they're family, or something that runs deeper-than and maybe that kind of connection should scare her. It doesn't. But sometimes she thinks it ought to.

A beat, then her mouth curves up into a small smile. Her fingers are netted through his and she squeezes lightly, feels something warm snake up her spine and bloom in her chest. ]

Nah. [ Another exhale, tinged with a laugh. ] Well, not yet. Warn me if I start to sulk.

[twentytwenty]

[ He squeezes back and it's firm and solid just like everything else. She'll tell him, if he needs to know. Or Natasha will. He doesn't think it's anything life-threatening so he's okay with letting it drop. ]

I've already had enough of Stark's tantrums this week, Barton. Please don't add to it. I might have to retire.

[accurize]

[ This time she does laugh, a little louder and a little more herself. (It's not about insecurity, exactly; Claire's young and prone to that but she's not an idiot. She's an agent where it counts and the world's best marksman. It just happens to all coincide with this.

She shifts in her seat, her knees pulled up to her chest. It makes her obvious, she knows, but sometimes she can't help watching him — it's weird, this evolution from one thing to another, but she can't imagine a life without it. Without him and the small little smiles, the odd quips back and the occasional excuse to fix his tie.

Abruptly: ]

Do you think about it?

[ Retirement, she means. ]

[bettercallit]

[twentytwenty]

[ He can count on one hand the people he trusts enough to sleep in front of.

Natasha is one. Clint too. Director Fury doesn't make the cut. He thinks that says something about their relationship but he never really had the impetus to examine it. It's not like his job calls for sleeping anyway. This isn't Inception. ( He'd snuck into the cinema for that one - a rare day off and jeans and a t-shirt, buttery popcorn coating his fingers. )

So when the car stops, he doesn't stir. It's the hand on his shoulder that gets him and while his first instinct is to respond to the perceived threat, he knows that particular pressure. ]

How many speeding laws did you break?

[nexttarget]

[twentytwenty]

[ The kiss is slow and tastes a little like the bourbon on Clint's tongue. He isn't startled by it, nor is he surprised. He just lets it happen because he knows. He's been staring it down for weeks now. The way the two of them were orbiting each other, the tone to Clint's voice, the tempo of his own breath on the comm.

So when Clint kisses him, Phil allows himself a moment to feel how right it is, his eyelids fluttering closed, his inhale caught in his throat.

But they're at the front door and sooner or later he's going to be kicking himself for a breach of security so he pulls back and smiles and it's almost almost sweet. ] I owe Agent Hill twenty bucks.

[nexttarget]

What side of the bet where you on boss? [ He asks a happy smile on his face as he leans against the front door to the tower not pulling out his id card to get in yet. The bourbon hadn't been his choice, but he couldn't exactly tell the target he didn't drink. He needed to get that info. ] You wanna come up, got some left over pizza and toddlers in tiaras on the dvr. [ He laughs softly leaning in for another brief kiss. ]

[twentytwenty]

That's classified.

[ His gaze drifts over Clint and it's thoughtful. ] Luring me with reality television after you kiss me seems kind of skewed. Shouldn't it be the other way round?

[ The clock is ticking and his expression shifts, leaning in to pluck Clint's security card free and slide it over the console. ] Don't keep JARVIS waiting.

[nexttarget]

I've never done things how I'm supposed too. [ Shrugs a little moving back into the entry floor taking Phil by the hand and pulling him into the building with him. Heading over to the residential elevator and pressing his palm to the screen, the door sliding open. ]

Hey now come on I've got the clearance. [ He laughs a little. ] You bet against me kissing you? Or what? [ He grins the elevator moving without the press of a button up up up, Clint is almost on the top floor, only 3 floors above him, Thor, Communal and Starks, something about wanting to give him all the lines of site he could want. ]

[twentytwenty]

[ He watches Clint's reflection in the elevator mirror, his own expression thoughtful. ]

I didn't think you would. Hill thought it was only a matter of time. You should have given me fair warning, I could have fixed the books.

[nexttarget]

Next time... and you don't have to tell her. [ He smirks a little as the door dings open and Clint keys them in, Lucky running up to greet them dancing around their legs, Clint sits on the floor in front of the door for a moment of cuddles and licks from the dog. ] I wasn't even gone that long boy. [ He laughs climbing to his feet and moving to the kitchen filling Lucky's bowls.]

What can I get you? I've got root beer, coke, couple juices... pretty sure they're still good. [ He says smelling the orange juice and nodding, before putting it back and grabbing himself a coke. ]