(no subject)

[fistmele]

Y'know, it'd be nice to have some consistency. Not just when you feel like it.

—In case you're feeling up to listening to requests, which I doubt, but I figure I'll take my chances while you're still around and tuning in.

Comments

[fe_male]

What sort of consistency are we talking here? Slightly mealy? Until soft peaks form? Flour still around the edges of the bowl?

[fistmele]

[ Face. ]

What?

[fe_male]

Consistency. You asked for it, I think. I can replay the message if you're having some sort of celerituisian amnesia.

[fistmele]

[ Shellhead, you are a weird fucking dude. ]

Wasn't really expecting the follow-up to be about, uh. Baked goods.

[fe_male]

Food is the universal solvent.

[fistmele]

Donuts and beer, [ he agrees sagely.





What. It's true. ]

[fe_male]

[ No it's totally true. ]

Is that an agreement or a request?

[fistmele]

Can't it be both?

[ Because that sounds much more definitive than 'I'm not bothered as long as it's on your dime'. ]

[fe_male]

I guess one would imply the other. One's an independant though. Sprinkles?

[fistmele]

Nah. Glazed's good.

[fe_male]

You on your floor?

[fistmele]

Do I gotta tip for delivery?

[fe_male]

Only if you want something special.

[fistmele]

I don't think I'm ever gonna trust your definition of special.

[ There's some reference to strippers and cake that should probably be applied. ]

I'm good without the extra.

[fe_male]

[ probably safer that way ]

Glazed, no special add-ons, and beer it is.

[fistmele]

Cheers.

action?

[fe_male]

[ With entering the Hawkeye level of the tower with said peace and consistency offering? ]

why the fuck not!

[fistmele]

[ Clint barely glances up from where he's lying on the couch, thumbing away at his phone because like, whatever, he's not gonna get up for Stark. Sorry (not sorry). ]

Hey.

FUCK YEAH

[fe_male]

[ Tony slides in next to him, stepping over the back of the couch and falling into place on the cushions, doughnuts and beer between them. ] We watching anything?

[fistmele]

I watched all the Oprah. [ Because that's what Clint does when he's trying to relax and he's not gonna apologize for it. Why would you apologize for Oprah, he's not fucking heartless.

Kind of ends up repocketing the phone and sitting up though, if only because beeeeeeer. Popping it open on the edge of the table: ] Depends what else is left.

[fe_male]

Oh, good, I can't stand the Ophrah. 'And you get a car, and you get a car,' whatever. Everybody gets cars. Is it all talk shows and reality tv?

[fistmele]

Shellhead, don't ruin it by dissing Oprah. We just got started.

[ Flipping through with the remote though. Fuckin' Stark. ] You like monster trucks?

[fe_male]

[ x kuze u ok ]

I like monster trucks. [ He too, pops open a beer, popping a doughnut in his mouth beforehand and taking it back out to take up the first foamy sip of it and everything that foamed over the top. ] I build monster trucks sometimes.

[fistmele]

[ ur xcused xoxo

Clint kind of gives him a half-amused half-impressed look, but it's more approving than awe-filled because come on, they're not talking about trick arrows they're talking about monster trucks. ]

Man without an appreciation for monster trucks is a man without a soul.

[fe_male]

Exactly. Monster trucks - they speak to a primal aspect. Shouldn't be ignored. [ Finishing the doughnut. More beer. Settling into the couch. ] This one, or... The green one?