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Send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

Send me 📏 (ruler) + your muses height and I'll compare them to mine!

Clint. Don't say it. Do not utter the words on your brain. ❝ Y'know, I bet people could mistake us for father and daughter ⸺ ❞ NEVER OPEN YOUR MOUTH AGAIN.

❝ You're like the right age to have been a daughter from one of my one night stands in my twenties. ❞

Clint:

Blanket statement time ⸺ Life sucked. ⸺ Full stop, put a period at the end of that statement. Go no farther, read no more. LIFE SUCKED. At the present moment, there was nothing that would change his mind from that train of thinking. It's the kind of thought that only stopped being had after a collusion (death). To which, he was sure one of these days, sooner or later, his luck won't be able to stop him from dying of an injury. Modern medicine won't save him and a mentally ill witch won't yoke him back into reality.

Clint falls as though he has been tossed through a wood chipper; th familiar feeling of pain seeping back into bone and muscle. It's all manageable, he's already taken the scheduled dose of muscle relaxant, and things will ease. His face still feels like it was burning off, but he's been assured that the antidote is working.

Ninjas with poisoned blades (which last he checked weren't ninjas Daredevil or Iron Fist's problems) had gotten him pretty good this time. One mistake and his position had been compromised; obviously, he was the victor but victory rarely came without blood and bruise. Aches and pains and maybe something to do with being in his forties. There's a very real future where he will die if he can't keep up; where he'll be pressured to retire but he can't stop himself from being the Avenger, just a guy with a bow determined to solve some problems.

Bruce interrupts the melancholy collecting in his mind, with an observant about his current state. For effect, Clint turns his face towards the other man and gives him a smile (at least he has all his teeth this time).

❝ At least they had the big boy band-aids this time. ❞ He has, in fact, been covered in varying degrees of child-friendly band-aids from transformers to hello kitty and anything in between. Clint doesn't bother removing himself from the couch, but he does try to shuffle his body further into the back cushion to make room if Bruce has finally decided to grace him with company. ❝ Besides, it's not like the Avengers ever let me at the adult table anyways. ❞

Reminder that Clint being covered in bandages is not just a funny, haha, aesthetic thing.

That means Clint is actively injured and managing pain, taking painkillers needing to overcompensate and overexerting himself again, because being completely and only human in a world of super-heroics and extremes sucks most of the time; and he constantly is having to recover from this small injury to the next big injury along with pain management, and for him, that'd why he can be in a mood, as well as for this blog canon, his tendency to injure, be in some form of ache or pain, was why he tended to drink daily / at night or for bed because intoxication is one way to numb and disconnect from body, and while it's a good thing, and he'll say as much going sober, he's got to and has a rather strict pain management with himself, certain painkillers at certain times and specific exercises and it's why he cooks so much again, because a healthy diet and food intake helps the body with recovery.