clint barton is the kind of guy who can hit a fly from 100m away with a bow and arrow but if you yell think fast and throw something at him he will not catch it and it will hit him in the face
one of my favorite things about the rivals-to-lovers trope is when one of them, at the beginning of their relationship, grumbles about how much they hate the other person’s awful face and i sort of cackle to myself like, oh man. you’re going to have it so bad. it’s going to be so great. you are going to love the CRAP out of that awful face. you’ll be composing delicious, pining, sappy sonnets about it. i love it.