#pizzadogssidekick

send your muse’s starbucks order, and mine will tell them what they think that says about them. -------------------------------------

( @pizzadogssidekick )

🚔 (☣) - @pizzadogssidekick​​ 

Maggie has gone all out for Thanksgiving. It's her first one with her new family. She's been basically living in the kitchen for the past few days as she prepared the dishes and snacks for the day.

“I figured you would have at least some leftover pizza.” It was obvious Karen was grumpy; hanger had hit about halfway to Bedstuy and Clint’s apartment complex, and all she could do was glare at the obviously useless refrigerator before looking to Clint when he offered up the counteroffer to her eating everything in his current possession.

“Pizza, please.” Because that asshole date she’d gone on had tried to dictate what she would eat because ladies don’t eat pasta or steak, silly, you need a salad! “Supreme. And make it the biggest one you can get. Because I have a feeling I’m going to eat half of it myself, if not the entire thing.”

The sunlight streamed down towards the circus ring, golden tendrils illuminating spots and drawing patterns of light into the sand. She was working the wire, about eight meters in the air, no safety net attached. She didn't need it. Natasha had come to the circus about two month ago in the middle of their summer tour as a stage hand but they soon discovered that the girl had incredible controle over her body and impeccable balance. Soon she was practicing and actually performing on the tightrope. The redhead could feel sharp, watchful eyes on her back. Now it was late August and the days started to slowly turn gold, even though it was still warm. Natasha had a target, someone she needed to find and wipe from the surface of the earth. Traveling with a circus helped her cover and while she prefered to be alone she'd come to like a few of her colleagues. She twirled over the the wire, jumped and let herself fall,hooking her legs around it and hanging upside down, all of a sudden, meeting a fellow performers eyes. "How long have you been standing down there?" She asked, a small smile on her face. "You know, it's rude to stare." Her feet found safe ground,effortlessly walked back towards the podium and slid down the ladder, meeting the archer on the ground. "I hope you came to invite me to scout the fair grounds. I'm pretty sure I will die of boredome if we don't find something to do." Over the last two months they had become sort of friends. Clint didn't press her for information or stories on her past life and was scarily persistend in not leaving her alone. Natasha listened to everything he liked to talk about when others had long given up. They made a pretty good team and over time a comradery had emerged between them, but when he stepped towards her and the light struck just right she had to swallow and couldn't help but smile. Clint had this irritating habit of making her smile all the tiime.

"So what do you say?"