metal on wheels

dunno wtf day of xmas it is but...

here’s nine soldiers strutting.

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes

Originally posted by anarchy-aim

Originally posted by loricameback

Originally posted by zaydoi

Originally posted by lovelysebastianbarnes

Originally posted by love-buckybarnes

Originally posted by bucky-here

Originally posted by irishkhaleesi26

Originally posted by peterparkher

ok but imagine
  • Steve has a fever so Bucky lays next to him as he sleeps with his metal arm on Steve’s forehead because it’s colder than ice and won’t melt.
  • The elevator doors are about to close but nope because Bucky sticks his arm between the doors making everyone freak out as he ushers Steve in
  • Steve stops to help a little old lady cross the street but Bucky doesn’t have time for this so he picks the lady up and runs her across. The lady won’t stop gushing about what a nice young man he is.
  • Sam’s in the middle of a car chase and he thinks he’s going to lose track of the criminals so he screams “METAL-ARMED JESUS TAKE THE WHEEL” and Bucky descends from fucking nowhere and rips the steering wheel out of the rival car.
  • Steve reads about the incident in the paper over breakfast the next day and spits his coffee out because “Not again, Buck!!” but Bucky just shrugs “I got them, right?”
  • One time while he was out, a little girl came up to Bucky with a magnet and asked if she could put it on his arm. Now his arm is full of magnets from children who look up to the Winter Soldier.
  • Sometimes they bring matching magnets so Steve can put one on his shield as well.
  • The media loves Bucky’s hair and all of a sudden the “Bucky bun” is the newest summer fashion craze.
  • Thor asks Bucky for help styling his own bun.
  • People start getting full arm tattoos that mimic Bucky’s and Sam asks for people to tweet pics of them so he can show them to Buck when he’s feeling down.
  • Public approval of Bucky is at an all time high thanks to his lawyer, Matt Murdock. The people love him.
  • But no one loves him as much as Steve.
SpockFact #44

Spock has never ridden a bicycle. Two-wheeled, self-propelled vehicles were never invented on Vulcan, as the sand is difficult to maneuver through without feet or treads. This fact is revealed when they must conduct an away mission on a planet which primarily uses bicycles for transportation. He finds the humans’ nostalgia over the little wheeled-metal-things to be quite interesting, if illogical. He expects his Vulcan poise, strength, and agility will allow him to easily master bicycle riding–but he is very mistaken. He skins both his knees before the rest of the away team realizes he’s never done this before. They instruct him on what to do, and manage to find one training wheel for him, and Captain Kirk runs alongside him pushing the bike to help him get going. Spock finds the wind in his hair to be surprisingly exhilarating, and when he turns to share this with the Captain he finds Kirk is no longer running beside him. He’s biking all on his own.

(Submitted by @adenil-umano)

latessitrice  asked:

New fake fic title: Permafrost

This title is like Robert Service level bleak.
On bleak…
Bleak af…

I started crying as I brainstormed responses to this. I mean, sobbing inconsolably into a box of fried chicken with snot bubbles and everything. Not a hot look. Each idea just seemed to get sadder and sadder until I really felt like I didn’t even want to do this anymore but by then it was too late and the ideas just kept coming anyway. It was like a friggin’ nightmare.

Originally posted by thatherohair

I stood up and stretched and tried to stop the rush of thoughts about an eternity of coldness and loneliness and that horrible layer of ice crystals that ruins perfectly good ice cream and that burning sensation you get in your hands after you’ve been out under dressed for too long in the cold.

I put on some cheerful music and forced myself to smile and jumped up and down a little but all I could think about was the outline of a motionless body, against a seemingly endless stark white horizon, being buried by softly falling snow so slowly that it was hardly noticeable with the full knowledge that it would keep up long enough to eventually bury them alive.

Originally posted by winter-capricorn

It got me thinking about Bucky in cryostasis. What if the Wakandan scientists made a miscalculation and inside the cryo chamber Bucky was motionless but fully awake with an induced version of Locked-In Syndrome?! Now there’s a fun thought!!

Originally posted by thekaskproject-art

Oh, there’s more!! The only thing that keeps Bucky going is the brief visit Steve makes each day just to show his solidarity and be with him for a while. He stands and stares at Bucky with those big, sad puppy dog eyes while Bucky screams inside begging for him to notice that something isn’t right.

After everything they’ve been through together, Bucky can’t help questioning why Steve can’t tell that he’s awake. He oughta fucking know… Is he awake?! Bucky wonders if he’s dreaming. He asked to be put on ice because he couldn’t trust his own mind. Nothing’s really changed at all. He’s just colder now.

Originally posted by collisionofdcandmarvel

And then there’s the creeping panic that slowly consumes him as he tries to judge after each visit whether Steve is turning up just a little later or leaving minutes earlier each time…

Bucky aches to hear his trigger words, clinging to the hope that maybe the monster inside of him can break him out of his cage and free him from the ceaseless boredom, the cold that bites all the way down to his bones and the painful loneliness that seems to slowly hollow him out, leaving him a little less hopeful each day.

Originally posted by elves-n-angels

Sometimes, he has flashes of memory so intense that it’s like he’s living it all over again. Blood-soaked carnage, tears, begging, the smell of gunpowder, the stench of death. Thoughts he’d never imagined would offer a welcome respite from the deafening silence of the chamber. Other times, he remembers Natasha. The two of them together in another time and place. Flashes of scarlet. The smell of her hair. His fingers lacing through hers.

Eventually, it’s silent again and he stands waiting for rescue as days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months and he struggles to find a way out.

2

The next couple of weeks were a strange kind of dance. It reminded Connor of the videos he’d used to watch in elementry school when his science teacher was off sick. The substitute would roll in a big old box television on a metal stand, wheels creaking under the weight, and the kids would all sit around it and watch documentaries about exotic Amazoniam birds. Connor remembered watching the brightly-plumed males dance and flutter and flaunt around their prospective mates, amazed and a little unnerved; now he felt the same as those birds. Knowing that Elijah obviously wasn’t completely opposed to his affections, Connor began to flaunt and show off. Elijah would watch from afar, sometimes appreciatively, but whenever Connor took a step forwards, Elijah took a step backwards again.

It was moments like those when Connor remembered what India said. You’ve just gotta tell him. He can’t read nonverbal cues to the point where it’s ridiculous. You have to tell him.

They’d recently invested in a small, portable television set. It helped alleviate Connor’s stress after his longer shifts, and gave Elijah something to do when he wasn’t busy kicking the knees out from beneath some corrupt pseudo-charity online. Sometimes, though, they’d end up flopped on the ratty old sofa together, knees unconsciously knocking together every now and again, hands lying side-by-side. If Connor was lucky and Elijah was feeling particularly touchy-feely, Connor would find a blond mop of hair on his shoulder or a heavy weight across his lap.

This was one of those afternoons. Elijah, his feet up on the coffee table, leaned almost his entire weight against Connor’s side.

“Uh,” Connor began when Elijah got distracted and begun to fidget with his shirt. “Can I ask you somthin’?”

“Yes.”

Connor licked his lips. “See… you know I like you. Do you like me too? I mean in that way. A more-than-friends way.” This was making him… incredibly uncomfortable. But when Elijah turned those big green eyes up towards him he was reminded just why he was suffering that discomfort.

“Well…” Elijah sighed, scratching behind his ear. “I dunno. I suppose so. I mean… I don’t not like you. I enjoy talking to you and I like it when you touch me.” His palm pressed against Connor’s chest, making his organs shift inside him. “I don’t… um. Could I show you, maybe?”

little known fact about me: I used to be really fucking good at the german wheel. what is that you ask? it’s a giant metal wheel that you get inside and roll around and do circus tricks in. wild I know. anyway from like ages 8-11 I was really fucking into that and I got really good at it and I was super flexible and in shape from it and I even performed in the pre game show at a bulls game. again, wild I know. but as I got older I started to get less interested and eventually quit, which would have been fine but I didn’t pick up anything else to replace it. it’s so weird to think about now because it was such a huge part of my life and I was really skilled at it, but most days I forget it even happened. I think that was the last time I was like really good at something and it bugs me a lot. I really want to have a talent again, l miss being really good at shit, nowadays it feels like I’m mediocre at everything. honestly the funniest part about this whole thing is that I used to be really in shape, like man, glad to know I peaked physically at 11 years old. I dunno man, I’m just rambling, maybe I should take up german wheel again

Prologue || Four-Wheeled Metal Coffin || Part 1

What had started as perhaps the longest wait any of the Hope’s Peak Charity Workers have ever experienced would finally come through to an end as a mechanical sound filled the air. It was a rather powerful and somewhat overwhelming mechanical noise, almost that of gears grinding against each other, which led to some of the students to cover their ears in futile efforts to keep the grating noise from penetrating their ear lobes while others turned their heads towards the source of the noise.

As everyone turned to face the academy’s rather large vehicle entrance gates, a collective sigh of relief escapes most of them as they finally understand what’s going on– after an absurdly long wait which felt like weeks to some, most of who decided to spend it by learning more about their new classmate and fellow charity workers and some even by spending their time playing video games, discussing the effectiveness of caffeinated drinks and some even… Hugging trees! It was a long wait, but as the rather large, luxurious-looking vehicle cruises through the entrance gates, you can’t help but notice just how… Over-the-top the rather large vehicle looks like– it looks like something only Norio himself would arrive in to the academy, had he the chance to acquire one of those machines.

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