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I haven't forgotten!
Cliche Table update: 12/25. It's still Cliche table 1, Kelly 0.
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marvel_bangs will cover relying on the enemy and soulmates and I've started bits and pieces of magical transformation (cat!boy Clint - which might actually be my first true gen story in this fandom, wtf??), time travel, mistaken identity and pretending to be a couple is also underway.
Like an awkwardly large couch and a small doorway, I've written stuff lately that just won't fit in here... argh!
So - in case you were wondering, this is the Clint/Coulsonmarvel_bang idea I'm going with.
--
He stops at Cheng’s on his way, figures he might as well grab a bite to eat since he’s pried himself out of his apartment. Cheng himself is serving, looks surprised to see him. “Hey, been a while,” Phil greets, sitting at the street counter and getting a steaming bowl pushed at him without having to order.
“I thought you died,” Cheng says blandly, like he’s not really fussed one way or the other, which he probably isn’t.
“Me too,” Phil says after a moment and Cheng snorts, before turning to yell something unintelligible at the girl on the other end of the counter.
“Thought you got out of the business,” Cheng notes in a milder tone when he turns his attention back to Phil. He eyes the suit.
“I freelance,”Phil says.
“That’s a fancy word for unemployed,” Cheng says, tossing a dish cloth over his shoulder.
“I guess you could look at it that way,” Phil says.
“That looks like yours,” Cheng says, inclining his head to Phil’s left and he looks behind him, sees a large black vehicle idling over the flooded curb, looking ominous.
“They wouldn’t send a hov, I’m not that important,” Phil says, would dismiss the thought completely but he can feel the itch between his shoulder blades that means he’s being watched, making him want to turn around again. He doesn’t and eventually someone slides onto the stool next to him, obviously grown impatient. It’s no one Phil knows but the tactical gear stands out in Skint Town, probably about as much as his suit does. The only reason he didn’t get knocked over for his credit chip on the way to Cheng’s was because people know his face around here, know he doesn’t have two chits to rub together.
“Director Fury says you’ve become a dawdler in your retirement,” the man says. Phil gives him a sideways glance. He’s got a sharp profile, everything about the guy precise. Phil used to be like that.
“Retirement, that’s a good one,” Phil huffs. “And Director Fury can kiss my ass.”
Current Cliche table status:
Cliche Table update: 12/25. It's still Cliche table 1, Kelly 0.
My
marvel_bangs will cover relying on the enemy and soulmates and I've started bits and pieces of magical transformation (cat!boy Clint - which might actually be my first true gen story in this fandom, wtf??), time travel, mistaken identity and pretending to be a couple is also underway.Like an awkwardly large couch and a small doorway, I've written stuff lately that just won't fit in here... argh!
So - in case you were wondering, this is the Clint/Coulson
marvel_bang idea I'm going with.--
He stops at Cheng’s on his way, figures he might as well grab a bite to eat since he’s pried himself out of his apartment. Cheng himself is serving, looks surprised to see him. “Hey, been a while,” Phil greets, sitting at the street counter and getting a steaming bowl pushed at him without having to order.
“I thought you died,” Cheng says blandly, like he’s not really fussed one way or the other, which he probably isn’t.
“Me too,” Phil says after a moment and Cheng snorts, before turning to yell something unintelligible at the girl on the other end of the counter.
“Thought you got out of the business,” Cheng notes in a milder tone when he turns his attention back to Phil. He eyes the suit.
“I freelance,”Phil says.
“That’s a fancy word for unemployed,” Cheng says, tossing a dish cloth over his shoulder.
“I guess you could look at it that way,” Phil says.
“That looks like yours,” Cheng says, inclining his head to Phil’s left and he looks behind him, sees a large black vehicle idling over the flooded curb, looking ominous.
“They wouldn’t send a hov, I’m not that important,” Phil says, would dismiss the thought completely but he can feel the itch between his shoulder blades that means he’s being watched, making him want to turn around again. He doesn’t and eventually someone slides onto the stool next to him, obviously grown impatient. It’s no one Phil knows but the tactical gear stands out in Skint Town, probably about as much as his suit does. The only reason he didn’t get knocked over for his credit chip on the way to Cheng’s was because people know his face around here, know he doesn’t have two chits to rub together.
“Director Fury says you’ve become a dawdler in your retirement,” the man says. Phil gives him a sideways glance. He’s got a sharp profile, everything about the guy precise. Phil used to be like that.
“Retirement, that’s a good one,” Phil huffs. “And Director Fury can kiss my ass.”
Current Cliche table status:
| pretending to be a couple | woke up married | magical transformation | inebriated confessions | "It was a dark and stormy night..." |
| forced bonding | coitus interruptus | "...and they lived happily ever after." | woke up on the wrong side of the bed | undercover operation |
| shopping for curtains | "you had me at hello" | huddling for warmth | amnesia | soulmates |
| kids or babies | fulfilling a prophesy/destiny | just in the nick of time | telepathy | mistaken identity |
| not really dead | phobias | in the future... | time travel | relying on the enemy |
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:)
*twirls you*
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