Added six new doujinshi!

☆ [v i s i t   t h e   S T A G S H O P] ☆

Drinking orange juice from a tonic water bottle
I hate the way I always lose my cool
To be the way I wanted, but half of what I wanted was confused
Something cruel, I kept inside my pocket
I always end up sounding like a fool
End up running through a mess of bad behaviors
I’m lashing out whenever I’m with you

At the Palisades, with the tonic water bottle
The second band is saying that they’re through
So we move, but I wanna keep sippin’
I’ve always been a little bit aloof
Drinking orange juice from a tonic water bottle
You turn to me and ask me if I’m through
And I laugh at you, but I throw away my bottle
We pile up with Henry, Jack and Sue

Not so cool to have trouble saying sorry
Becoming what I never wanted to
Going blue, I’m having trouble breathing
So nervous whenever I talk to you
Drinking orange juice from a tonic water bottle
I brought it here to share the thing with you
And I knew that I was being careless, so sorry if I wasn’t very cool

Worst Superhero Ever

Word Count: 1631  

Warnings: Swearing?? None??

alright, this is the first thing i’ve written in FOREVER, so please be kind. and also, @glyndwrr asked me to tag them, you’re an angel, i hope you enjoy! 

(if it’s really bad please just pretend like it didnt even happen)

“You are the worst fucking superhero in the entire world, Snow.” Basilton Pitch shouted as Simon Snow was punted through three walls, a window and landed flat on his back five stories below. There was a little girl sitting on the cracked pavement. She had been crying and she wiped her fist and arm up to the inside of her elbow under her nose as he thumped down next to her. The name Serena was tattooed across her forehead in big, purple block letters. He thought it was a nice name.

“Oh, hello darling. Don’t cry.” Tears were still tracked down her cheeks, but she nodded quickly. He felt like he had shattered into a million pieces and after a fall like that, Simon wonders how long it would take to heal this time. “Where are your parents, love?” She stuck a short, chubby toddler arm out and towards the burning building a block away. It had once been an expensive apartment building.

Wow, what a dick.

“Wow.” Simon was just glad he got everyone out before Pitch decided to torch it. “Alright, well, I have to get you somewhere.” He stood, feeling a pain shoot up his left leg. It was broken right at the knee; he knew he felt it bend the wrong way when he smashed through the window.

Maybe it would take 5 minutes to heal.

He stood, wincing at every ache and pull and held the little girl tightly to his chest. She starts crying again almost immediately. “Fu–no, you don’t have to cry,” He was never good with children.

“You’re not good with children.” Pitch was standing on the edge of the shattered window 5 stories up that Simon had just been pushed out of.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” His muscles were starting to loosen enough for him to focus all his power on rising a few feet. Pitch had a string of fire weaving through his fingers and dancing in his palm. “Now, do you have any idea where I put her parents?”

“No?” He was sneering, Simon was sure of it. “I’m sure they’re exactly where you left them when you pulled them from a burning building.” Now he was sarcastic and Simon didn’t appreciate it. “Just go drop her off at a police station? I don’t have time for this.”

“What Pitch? Do you have another superhero to fight after this? A doctors appointment? Give me 10 minutes.” Pitch rolls his eyes. Simon’s knee had finally knit itself back together and he pulls a few more feet in the air and heads towards the burning building.

It was getting ready to crumble. Pitch had been so angry, the pillar of fire he shot at Simon quickly turned into an inferno, ruining the buildings supports and melting any window that wasn’t already broken by them beating the shit out of each other. Pitch followed him, looking at the building like he was partially impressed.

“They probably went over to the evac base.” He nods in the general direction of the closest military base. The government decided to plant one right along the edge of the city because Simon and Pitch went at it so often. The western section of the city had been reduced to rubble last Spring.

Simon still felt bad about that.

“How could you just leave your kid all alone while a superhero and a supervillain decide to destroy the city?” The little girl clings to Simon, burying her little fists in his jumpsuit and cape, giggling and looking up at the stars.

“I wouldn’t say you’re a supervillain, Snow.” Simon turns and throws a sharp look at Pitch.

“I wasn’t claiming to be a villain. You’re the one who torched this poor girl’s apartment building.” The little girl peeks her face over Simon’s shoulder and Pitch is finally able to see the name tattooed across her forehead. The name over his heart itches and he rubs at it absentmindedly.

He stopped wondering about the name–Simon–a long time ago. Being an ‘evil mastermind’ (as Snow liked to call him) didn’t leave much space for a soulmate. Besides, he doesn’t think he could feel anything quite as strong for anyone else as whatever he felt for Snow.

Baz was 50% sure it was hatred.

“You lit my house on fire?” The name wrinkles as the little girl frowns at him. He feels himself starting to blush. “That was not very nice!” She frowns ever harder and the tears start to well up in her eyes again. He wonders where 'Serena’ is and hopes that she wasn’t in the city. Even if he doesn’t care about his own, he would hate to take someone else’s soulmate away.

“And you say I’m bad with kids.” Smartass…

The evac base was overflowing with people, some crying, some huddled into little groups as the military shuffle around them, all armed. Simon lands roughly on the grass outside, squinting towards the fence. “Ok, now do you see your parents?” Men with rifles aimed at Simon and Pitch start shouting commands that they both ignore. A woman emerges from the crowd, sprinting towards the fence and nearly climbing it before a man pulls her down.

“VERONICA! BABY, VERONICA!” She cries, clawing at the fence, the name 'David’ wrapped around her wrist, Veronica tattooed across the other. The little girl started wiggling in Simon’s arms, reaching towards her mother and when he sets her down on the grass, she runs as fast as her little legs can carry her towards the fence.

The gate slid open to let the little girl in, but Simon misses it when Pitch knots his hand in his cape and yanks him back towards the city. “Alright, now that that’s taken care of…”

“Could you be any more heartless?” Simon asks, shaking his hand off his head and flying next to him. “I didn’t even get to see the reunion.” Snow snarls and Baz rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t peg you as the emotional type, Snow.” Simon sneers and Baz backs up a few feet, glaring back. Snow rolls out his shoulder and Baz can hear it snap back into place from where he is.

“You don’t know anything about me.” He lunges across the open space, pummeling his shoulder into Baz’s stomach and letting them drop to the ground. Simon lands on top of Pitch but the cement doesn’t crumble under them, even though Simon had hoped it might; if he was going to get the shit beaten out of him, he at least hoped it would look cool.

“I know plenty about you.” Baz hisses through his teeth, kicking up and sending Simon through the air again, watching as he knocks a telephone pole sideways and skids to a stop in the middle of the street. He stands, balling his hands together, feeling the familiar twinge pain in his shoulder and aiming towards Simon. A column of fire shoots out between his fingers, spilling into the street and wrapping around Snow, twisting and circling before diving onto him and exploding, shattering all the windows on the street. A charred car screeches as it slides away, smoking and black, knocking another pole over.

In the middle of the blackened concrete, a globe of water swirls around Simon, looking like a whirl pool. With a snap of his fingers, it evaporates back into the air, returning to the clouds he stole it from. His hair is singed and smoking, face smudged with charcol, holes burnt into his shirt, looking very, very angry. “You actually tried to kill me.”

“Yes?” Baz says more as a question, almost like he can’t quite believe it either. “No. Perhaps.”

“You asshole.”

“Is that not what we’ve been doing for the past hour? Actively trying to kill each other?”

“Well, yeah, but not really.”

“'Not really,’ what the hell does that mean?” Baz shoves him, hard, sending him staggering a few feet. “We’re mortal enemies, Snow. You do know what that means, right?”

“Yes I know what it means, you git.” Simon shoves him back and Baz lunges forward this time, bringing them both to the ground. “But you actually tried to kill me!” They both punch, missing each time and rolling around, shouting obscene things.

“I don’t know!” Baz grunts, rolling over and sitting on Simon’s hips, keeping him under him. “I don’t know, alright!” Simon looks up, just as confused. His suit has a hole burnt right through over his heart and the end of a name peaks out around the crisp, blackened edges. Baz’s heart nearly stops, grabbing for it and ripping the shirt right down the middle, from hem to hem.

This time, his heart really does stop and he wonders how he couldn’t have seen this sooner. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

'Tyrannus Basilton’


“What the fuck are you looking at?” Simon actually punches him this time, right on the chin, so hard that it snaps his jaw shut, hurting his teeth. Baz barely feels it, watching in stunned silence as Simon scrambles away, pulling the scraps of his shirt closed over his chest, the name–his name–still sticking out in curly writing. His writing.


“I…” Baz needs to find the words to leave, retreat back home to his room and never speak about this. “I…” He stands, finding his feet wobbly and backs up, inching across the smoldering concrete. “What the fuck?” Nothing is ever easy, is it?

“Where are you going?” Simon runs his thumb over the tattoo of his name and Baz feels his heart break. Stupid, stupid, stupid. “What?” Snow–Simon–demands and moves towards him, looking concerned despite himself. Baz can’t even say he’s surprised, so he turns and runs back into the city, toward towards home.

i think one of my all-time favorite tropes is characters in a time period without phones or cars that are making a long journey/on the run from something and one of them gets hurt, minorly. a cut on the leg or something that hampers them, but isn’t too concerning. 

and then they suddenly begin to feel worse and worse. overnight they develop a bad fever and soon they’re all but incapacitated. their companion(s) find that the wound has gotten infected and now they’re gravely ill and nobody knows what to do. they can’t continue their journey but they can’t stop for too long either, and they end up finding some shady doctor to help their friend. this usually involves having to pay off said doctor to keep their presence a secret until the sick character is healed and they can move on. 

You know what I love? This new thing: “Oh we’ll just call hybrids half-human from now on”, completely erasing the half of their identities that is actually more important to the plot and narrative.

Arima would refer to himself as a “half-human”, because we can infer (from Furuta’s words and behavior as well) that the Garden children were raised as human. Perhaps he wished to be human, or didn’t want to consider the possibility there might not be a “them” (it’s easier to kill “them” than “us”). Or that’s what he was raised to believe and Arima is nothing if not mind-whammied.

But the denominator that actually affects those children’s quality of life is “ghoul”. It doesn’t matter how human they are, because it’s not human that’s oppressed, and it’s not human whose continued existence is entirely reliant on their ability to pass. Ergo, in the eyes of the world they are “half-ghoul”. Not to mention ghouls are pretty dehumanized already, even sometimes in fandom (have you seen the rhetoric “Kaneki hasn’t killed anyone”, just because he’s only ever killed ghouls? I have), and therefore I think that erasing them completely from someone’s identity is detrimental to the narrative.


I should preempt everything here in saying that, to date, Bellows’ new album Fist & Palm is my favorite of this year. It’s a fantastic record that takes me through the gamut of emotion. From grandiose soaring pop highs to introspective sullen lows, the album’s eleven tracks are ambitious in scope, sonic palette and execution. Fist & Palm is at once familiar but constantly expanding ever slightly into new territory creating something fresh that — for me, personally — invokes the excitement I recall feeling when discovering K acts like Mirah or The Blow paired with the euphoria of M83’s Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming. It’s an exciting combination we’re truly proud to be involved with in any capacity.

We’ll be releasing Fist & Palm September 30, 2016 as part of our monthly cassette subscription series (Double Double Whammy are handling digital, vinyl & CD). You can pre-order an individual cassette copy of the album or pick up our entire subscription now.

NPR’s All Songs Considered released “Thick Skin” earlier this summer saying at the heart of the song “is the message that one of the most freeing parts of life is the search for satisfaction, not the arrival of satisfaction itself” and that it has an “absolutely lovely, intimate quality.” Yesterday The Fader shared album standout “Orange Juice”.

Bellows are also embarking on a US tour with PWR BTTM and Lisa Prank this summer. All dates below.

  • 10/22 - Portsmouth, NH @ 3S Artspace ^
  • 10/24 - Toronto, ON @ Silver Dollar Room ^
  • 10/25 - Lakewood, OH @ Mahall’s ^
  • 10/26 - Chicago, IL @ Beat Kitchen ^
  • 10/27 - Minneapolis, MN @ 7th Street Entry ^
  • 10/28 - Omaha, NE @ Milk Run ^
  • 10/30 - Denver, CO @ Lost Lake Lounge ^
  • 11/1 - Salt Lake City, UT @ Kilby Court ^
  • 11/2 - Boise, ID @ Neurolux ^
  • 11/3 - Walla Walla, WA @ Billsville West ^
  • 11/4 - Vancouver, BC @ 333 Clark ^
  • 11/5 - Seattle, WA @ The Vera Project ^
  • 11/6 - Portland, OR @ Mississippi Studios #
  • 11/7 - Eugene, OR @ The Boreal ^
  • 11/9 - San Francisco, CA @ Rickshaw Stop ^
  • 11/11 - Los Angeles, CA @ Bootleg Theater ^
  • 11/12 - Phoenix, AZ @ Rebel Lounge ^
  • 11/14 - Austin, TX @ The Mohawk ^
  • 11/15 - Dallas, TX @ Club Dada ^
  • 11/16 - Jackson, MS @ Big Sleepy’s ^
  • 11/17 - Nashville, TN @ The End ^
  • 11/18 - Atlanta, GA @ The Masquerade ^
  • 11/20 - Durham, NC @ The Pinhook ^
  • 11/21 - Washington, DC @ DC9 ^
  • 11/22 - Philadelphia, PA @ PhilaMOCA ^
  • 11/23 - Somerville, MA @ ONCE Somerville ^

^ w/ PWR BTTM & Lisa Prank

Sting Like A Bee

Pairing/s: Bumbleby, Arkos & Nuts and Dolts

Words: 2100+

(A/N: Triple whammy! I guess a week without internet does a lot in terms of writing ^^’ Will probably make this a chapter fic if you guys want, so let me know!)


Most people would be excited at the prospect of a new job. Especially fresh out of school, getting a decently paying full time job isn’t the easiest thing to do. But when it turns out someone you had a past with is associated with it, things automatically get a little more difficult.

So after finding out her former lover was a regular at Remnant Fight Club, which had just offered her a job, Blake was understandably apprehensive. But, a job paid the bills and put food on the table. Plus, with her over-looming loans from medical school which would quickly sink into debt, Blake didn’t exactly have a choice.

Thanks for whatever is in the heavens, Adam wasn’t there on her first night. At least that was one good thing about the fight schedules was she knew when to be prepared for a possible encounter. Blake felt a little more at ease knowing this; it would at least give her a chance to meet her co-workers when she was somewhat comfortable. Walking through the doors, she was met with the smell of sweat, an arena surrounded by seating and a receptionist that looked way too young to be working there. 

Sighing deeply, she nervously walked up to the counter, nervously fidgeting with the ring on her right thumb. She concentrated on keeping her feline ears still under her bow, not wanting to reveal the fact she was a Faunus just yet. It came all too soon, Blake thought, soon approaching a girl with short, red tipped hair sitting behind the desk, tongue stuck out as she concentrated on a video game. Blake couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the sight, something which seemed to catch the attention of the young girl. Embarrassed she had been caught, the redhead slid the game away before turning her attention to Blake

“Hiya! How can I help?”

Blake smiled lightly, noticing a spark in those silver eyes that she couldn’t help but admire.

“Well, I’ve just gotten a job here, and it’s my first night,” the raven haired girl began to explain.

“Oh! You must be the new medic!” the girl exclaimed, heading out from behind the desk and walking around to Blake.

“I’m Ruby! Nice to meet you,” she greeted, holding out her hand to the taller girl. Blake smiled, taking the extended hand and shaking it.

“It’s a pleasure Ruby; I’m Blake.”
Ruby offered a beaming smile, tucking her hands into the pockets of a red hoodie and swaying on her heels.

“C'mon. I’ll introduce you to the others.”

With that, she then began walking towards the other side of the arena, causing Blake to follow.

“Pardon me for asking,” Blake started a little hesitantly. “But aren’t you a little young to be working here? I always thought there was an age requirement to work in a place like this.”

“Technically,” Ruby admitted. “But I’m still in school so I only work part time and I’m always gone before it gets to the really bad fights. Plus, my sister fights here and she tends to draw a crowd, so that helps.”

The raven haired girl nodded a little, understanding the situation a little more. Before Blake could ask anything else, Ruby pushed open a door.

“Hey guys!” the young girl proclaimed. “You’ve got another pair of hands to help you out!”

“We know Ruby, the two of us found out before anyone else,” a voice claimed, walking through a doorway. It belonged to a tall boy, seemingly of Asian descent, a pink streak standing out against the rest of onyx hair. His eyes scanned over Blake, lips twitching up in a smile that was barely there.

“Ren. It’s a pleasure.”

She returned the small smile, nodding a little. “Blake. I’m guessing you’re here to show me the ropes?”

He nodded a little before a lanky boy with blonde, messy hair and blue eyes stood beside him. As he put two and two together, he held out his hand to Blake with a warm smile.

“I’m Jaune, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

She shook his hand and introduced herself once again, seeming to catch his contagious smile. After the handshake parted, Ruby perked up before any awkwardness set in.

“How you guys feeling about tonight? We’ve got a couple regulars on~” Ruby joked with a light laugh.

“Ruby, it’s always entertaining when your sister is fighting,” Ren mused. “She may be one of the top fighters, but she’s never left a fight unscathed.”
Blake’s ears perked up again at the mention of Ruby’s sister. Why did everyone keep talking about her?

“Ren’s right. It’s gotten to the point that he and I place bets on what injury she’ll come in with,” Jaune explained to Blake. “Speaking of which, who is she against tonight?”

“Some guy from across town. His style seems more orientated on kicking so Yang’s gonna have a little more trouble,” Ruby mused.

“Jeez, hopefully she doesn’t dislocate anything again,” Jaune mumbled.

Ren turned to the newest member of the medics. “You haven’t met the fighters yet, have you Blake?" 

She shook her head, nervously twiddling with her thumb ring once again.
"Though if what you guys say is true, I’ll at least meet Ruby’s sister tonight.”

“Don’t worry too much,” Ruby perked up. “They may look pretty threatening when they’re fighting, but most of them are really nice! Except for Adam, but he’s a butt; no one likes him anyway.”

Blake couldn’t help but stiffen a little at the mention of Adam, but smiled slightly to hide it. She wasn’t going to let him get in the way of her new job.
The first fight of the night passed rather quickly, with Blake quickly being shown the order of how things went. The fighters were checked over to see if they could be treated there or needed a hospital, before the three of them set to work.  At the end of the first fight, a ginger with a lopsided pink bow sat in the ward, a smile on her face despite her bruised cheek and busted lip. As Jaune and Ren waited by the ring for the next fight, Blake was left to take care of the small injuries. Blake gave the girl some ice to hold on her cheek, as she gently dabbed on the girl’s lip, cleaning the split of any excess blood. 

“You seem oddly happy to have lost a fight,” the amber eyed girl mused.

“I don’t find it odd!” the girl appropriately named Penny beamed. “It was an honour to finally meet the Goddess!”

Speaking of the devil, she appeared. It was no wonder she was called the Goddess. Long red hair, emerald eyes and a smile that could stop your heart, Pyrrha Nikos could easily knock you to the ground and make it look easy, but still give the warmest hugs known to man. Or so Jaune had told her.

“Hello again!” she chimed, walking into the ward and heading over to stand beside Penny. “You fought really well tonight. But you took a bit of a tumble in that last round and I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I am a-OK Miss Nikos!” Penny proclaimed, shooting her an enthusiastic thumbs up as Blake moved away to clear the equipment.

“That’s good to hear. Oops, how rude of me; you must be Blake,” she claimed, causing Blake to turn around to see a smiling Pyrrha. Blake returned it with a light smile of her own, holding out her hand which Pyrrha shook immediately.

“That would be me. It’s nice to meet you Pyrrha; Jaune’s told me a lot about you.”
The taller red head rolled her eyes, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I suspect he would have,” she mused. “Anyway, is there any chance you could strap my wrist up?”

“Of course,” Blake replied before turning to Penny. “You’re free to go. Just make sure to keep the ice on your bruise so it stops the swelling.”

Penny gave an enthusiastic nod, hopping off the ‘hospital’ bed.
“Thank you miss Blake!” the young ginger thanked, waving goodbye to the medic and the Goddess. The Faunus smiled at the young fighter, patting the empty spot on the bed which Pyrrha soon filled, holding out her sore wrist.
Returning the redhead’s small smile, Blake set to work. Carefully, she removed the strapping tape on Pyrrha’s wrist, noting it wasn’t as tight as it should have been.

“Your strapping was a little loose,” she informed the taller girl, looking up to briefly meet an emerald gaze.

“Yeah, I had to run a quick errand for a friend before I came here so I was in a bit of a rush,” she explained with a light chuckle.

“Well, if you’re ever in a rush, you can always come here and we can strap them up for you,” Blake offered, removing the last of the strapping tape. Gently, her hands checked for any sign of a break or fracture. Now knowing that her wrist wasn’t injured, Blake took hold of the medical tape and began strapping Pyrrha’s wrist.

“Hey there Goddess!” a sunny voice chimed, nearly causing Blake to turn around. “You were awesome out there tonight!”

“Oh hello again! When are you scheduled in?”

“Not tonight I’m afraid. It’s time for me to play the big sister and take Ruby home. I figured she might be in here with you guys.”

Blake put two and two together just as she finished strapping Pyrrha’s wrist. Securing it, Blake then finally dared to turn around. Standing in the doorway, with one strong arm braced against the frame and the other clutching a set of keys, stood a girl who looked almost nothing like Ruby. Even so, she must have boys and girls fawn over her beauty on a daily basis. A pair of aviators sat upon a wild golden mane, lilac eyes staring into her own. Her breath seemed to hitch a little, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable under her gaze. Her stomach felt odd, as if thousands of winged creatures had suddenly taken flight. However, the moment was broken by Pyrrha clearing her throat.

“Yang, I don’t think you’ve met our new medic,” she started, hopping off the bed, and gesturing for the blonde to come in.

“Yang, this is our new medic Blake. Blake, this is our resident 'firecracker’ Yang.”

'Yang’ flashed a grin worthy of a movie star, holding out her hand. Blake, almost tentatively, took the blonde’s hand, shaking it. Her hand was warm and calloused, much larger than her own. Wait, why am I even thinking this? the amber eyed girl thought to herself. She mentally shook the thought away, their hands parting before it got too awkward and shooting the blonde a shy smile.#

Holy shit, she’s gorgeous! was the only thing that ran through Yang’s mind. I wonder if she’s single. Wait on, I hope she’s gay at least! C'mon Yang, don’t tell me your gaydar is chasing after a straight girl, no matter how gorgeous she is. Alrighty Firecracker; say something smooth!

“Well, I’m certainly glad someone as pretty as you will be able to help me feel better~” she chuckled, sending the raven haired beauty a joking wink. Blake’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but was disturbed before she could think of a witty comeback.


Not a moment later, Ruby had flung herself onto Yang’s back, legs wrapping around her waist. Yang only stumbled a little, before she shot her a wide smile as Ruby climbed down.

“Heya Rubes! Ready for the off?” Ruby nodded enthusiastically, turning and smiling at Blake.

“See ya tomorrow Blake!” she cried, waving gleefully at the taller girl. Blake was oddly touched, even by something so simple as a goodbye. Lips twitching up in a smile that was gone as soon as it came, Blake nodded at Ruby.
And with that, Ruby and Yang walked out of the ward, but not without the blonde shooting the bow wearing girl another smile.

Even after Yang left, the weird feeling in Blake’s stomach stayed. Pyrrha smiled almost knowingly, bidding the slightly flustered medic a promise to see her next fight, before a voice was heard outside the arena.


“Looked like what? I told you she was pretty, didn’t I?”


Putting two and two together, Blake had to stop herself from letting her jaw drop.

“You’re blushing,” Pyrrha chuckled before heading out of the ward.

Sure enough, Blake’s cheeks were as pink as the streak in Ren’s hair. And that feeling in her stomach didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon.

anonymous asked:

Ooooh not just the lip bites. I think we need to have a master post to pass around for all the shipper blogs that include - all the tongue action between these two best buds forever during S2, nose bumps, lovey love eyeballs, caressing body parts, secret smiles and anything else I missed. Who would have this info? Jess? This is a project I wouldn't mind working on. Let's add our favorites! Mine is Commando Love or Smurf Bewb Love. heehee

Haha!  I think we should just have a day of everyone posting all the lovely-dovey Jamie and Claire bits - fill our dashes with such pretties :D

I will NEVER be over the kiss and bow double whammy before Prestonpans.  Seriously, the bow is even sexier than the kiss to me, is that weird??  It’s the gallantry, I think.  Imagine having a guy bow to you in real life like that…I would die.

darkly-stark  asked:

Could i request something where for some reason or another Tony's been mind whammied / brain washed / magicked into working for the bad guy, and T'Challa manages to break it with the POWER OF LOVE (trademark)

A/N: This got a little long, so this is only part one of three (whoops). Warnings for kidnapping and some light violence/torture.

You can also follow along on Ao3.

Tony’s not taken during a battle. He’s not taken during in the middle of the night, after a gala, on some lonely New York street. He’s not taken after yet another UN session, or after another shout out with Ross, or on one of his many flights to and from Wakanda.

He’s taken after a two-day binge in the lab, when the combined efforts of Friday and Rhodey force him up into the world of the living. He’s taken in sweats and a pair of sunglasses, a hat pulled low over his face as he visits the best coffee shop in all of New York. He’s taken surprised and unprepared by a squad of heavily armed and nondescript soldiers on a bright city street. He’s taken with a fight, with a flail of fists and feet, but he is taken.

Half a world away, T’Challa hears the news and the plastic phone cracks in his white-knuckled grip.

Keep reading

Steve Rogers is giving Kowalski The Look.

Bucky’s familiar with That Look.  Since he’s been on the receiving end of The Look exactly 7,677 and a half times over the years of their friendship and not even HYDRA mind whammys could have completely erased that fact from his Swiss Cheese brain.

Also, he’s figured that it’s time to duck and cover.  Oh, hello, Steve’s shield.  You’ll do just fine.

“Stanley Raymond Kowalski – ”

Oh boy, the full name treatment.  Where’s the popcorn when you need it?

“ – if you seriously think that Constable Benton Fraser – ”

Kowalski was beginning to appreciate the Enormity of what he’d just done.

“ – has any intention to get his hands on my ass – ”

“That Ass happens to have Property of Bucky Barnes stamped on it,” Bucky supplies helpfully.   He cringes when Steve directs The Look at him but Steve plows on.

“ – you are a complete and utter eejit, a moron, a fucking dumbass, a numbskull and I thought you were supposed to be a hotshot detective, huh – ”

Kowalski has the grace to actually cringe at this point. 

Whoops, there goes his Irish firecracker and he’s in fine voice too.  Also, even at the temporary height of five foot and change, Steve hasn’t lost the battlefield command in his voice. 


“Um, what, soldier?!”


Steve facepalms.   “Ray Ray Ray.”

“Please don’t do that, you sound exactly like Fraser when you do that – ” Kowalski babbles.

“This big lug right here is my fella.  Has been since 1939. Will love him ‘till my dying day." 

"Stevie."  And at that, Bucky gets an actual Steve smile.  It’s pure sunshine. 

"There’s a certain very fine looking fella out there in red serge who’s probably feeling very confused and very hurt right now, Detective.  Think you ought to let him know where he stands?”

Kowalski hangs his head.  “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not a 'fucking idiot,’ Ray."  They all turn to see said fine looking fella at the door.  Heh.  Who knew the Mountie actually had a mouth on him?

Also, Bucky’s quite familiar with that specific Look on the Mountie’s face.  Grief.  Loss.  Despair waging war with hope.  Hope’s gaining an upper hand for the last few moments.

Bucky should know - he’s worn that same Look a time or two.  Usually in relation to his tiny, adored bit of sunshine. 

"I’m your fucking idiot, to be honest.” Kowalski actually has a brain in his skull.  He’s taking an actual step forward.

“Ray Ray Ray — mmmph!”

Well, those were some smooth moves from Kowalski.

Bucky feels Steve lean against him and since he’s not an idiot, he pulls in HIS fella for a snuggle.  Also, they’re both hungry and Buck Frobisher’s caribou stew was smelling mighty good right now. 

The two of them leave the Mountie and the Detective to their kissing.

—  THIS IS ALL TYGERMAMA’S FAULT - Darth Stitch’s Official Story and She’s Sticking to It