Handler Handbook Rule #33


While specialists are not, in fact, pets and you are not encouraged to think of them as such, it is not a bad idea to carry treats in your pocket.

So THAT’S why Coulson and you always have those cream savors I love so much. I was wondering.

Cities rise and spaceships fall || lecalaree

Leaning against the open gym doors, Clint smirked, watching Ronon beat the ever loving crap out of Shepard in the name of ‘training’. “Ya know, if ya maybe dodged him, you wouldn’t get hit so many times. Or leared how ta use a sword. Either one’d work.”

The Setidean leveled a glare at him, grunting. “‘F ya think it’s so ruttin easy, why don’t I have a go at you next?”

"Works for me." Clint grinned,

shieldshawk said:
be my king  




Send “Be my King/Queen” for my character’s reaction.

"That’s an odd request." Phil’s lips quirked up in a smile. "What exactly would that entail?"

"Tash told me ta say it, I ain’t got any idea what the hell it means m’ren you do." He smiled, leaning against Phil.

Phil shook his head. Romanoff would… Crazy Russian. A rush of fondness for the both of them filled him and he squeezed Barton tighter. “Then I guess it means what ever we want it to.”

"I like the sound’a that." He smiled, nuzzeling Phil’s neck, letting his eyes close, curling up next to him.

Anonymous said:


Send me the URL of a muse you ship me with and I’ll go kiss them


"Huh, I- okay, fine."

"Um…Sir? What’re you doin?"



Clint grinned, ruffeling Neal’s hair. “I think that could be done, Kiddo. Hey, ya wanna see the really cool super secret way that only I know bout for how ta get down?” It wasn’t super secret, both Phil and Natasha knew about it, but Clint was the only one to use it.


"A secret way?" Neal was intrigued. He loved secrets, secret hidey-holes, places to hide and things that nobody else knew. "Show me, show me!" He bounced on his toes, smiling, his face flushing lightly. He could still feel Clint’s hand ruffling his hair. "I want to know!"

"Follow me, kiddo." He smiled, glad he’d made Neal happy. Crawling through the air vents, army style, Clint nodded down to a side vent, a little wider then the others, with a purple chevron drawn on top. "In case I get lost. It glows in the dark." The side track lead down to a drop ceiling above Phil’s office.



"Isn’t that last one the one with the lady bits?" He frowned, raising an eyebrow. "Doc, I don’t think ya could be a what’ver the hell ya call it if someone gave ya ten million dollars."

He rolled his eyes. Yes, this was definitely a conversation he had before. “We’re not going to make fun of gynecology, and we’re not going to undermine the fact that I chose my speciality.”

Clint smirked. “Less making fun of it, an more you blush like crazy around women. And I just dun think ya’d be allowed ta do that anyway, ain’t they all girls?” He didn’t know shit about doctoring, medical school, or anything of the like. Give him a field med kit, he’d be fine. Fancy pants tools? Not so much.

-excitedly sees i have an ask-

-opens ask-


oh boy. anon hate.

and just when this night couldn’t get any better.

Returning || handlertoheroes


"—Knew you cared," Phil teased, trying to ignore the ache in his heart at the thought of what he had only imagined happened between them while waiting for their extraction to save them. The archer’s move to make himself as small as possible confused him though. Why should he be embarrassed about worrying for him while he was injured? There wasn’t anything unusual or humiliating about that.

"No, it’s okay," Phil shook his head. "But—" he hesitated for a moment. "Stay," he asked hopefully.

"I practically live here, you think I’d leave?" Clint smirked, still holding Phil’s hand. "You want some real food, or anythin? You’ve been out for about a week an some change." Hell, he could use some real food, the protein bars were starting to catch up to him, sitting like leaden weights in his stomach.