Greetings, thou of the Honorable 547...
If your week's been anything like mine, I think we could all use a good old-fashioned picspam. (And if an impromptu dance party breaks out, well, we all knew the risks.) In other news, we are up to 496 official members, and I know it goes without saying but it's not gonna stop me---I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR.
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OMG thank you for including the vest. I normally object to vests on principle, but like so many things when it comes to this man, I'm suddenly feeling it. Just wat. WAT.
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From the B&W in the car, this happened:
He drives until he can't drive anymore - he'd give anything for rain, but the sky, or the baraometer, or fucking God, if he's there - nothing seems to be on Clint's side today. Still, he knows if he goes further, he won't have enough gas to get back anywhere near civilization which, yes, has its appeal, but he doesn't feel like calling Tony for a rescue. His heart is broken, not his brain.
He'd smiled and said he was happy for her, put on his sparkling eyes and toothy grin as she'd shown as much excitement as she ever has ( ... )
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AND IT'S PERRRRFECT FOR THIS PIC. THIS PIC IS NOW GIVING ME ALL THE FEELS. GAH!!! DAMMIT!!!
**keysmash**
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NO TOO MANY FEELS
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THIS SHIP IS NOTHING BUT FEELS. **CUE GLASS CASE OF EMOTION**
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YOU'RE TALKING TO SOMEONE WHO ROUTINELY GETS "YOU MADE ME CRY" REVIEWS ON HER FIC. And who still doesn't know how that's a good thing.
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