one tin soldier

anonymous asked:

Opinion on Parker?

the bitsy spider is like… a mildly terrifying combo of steve and tony. he has all of steve’s moral uprightness and willingness to do what he believes is right, regardless of consequences, and all of tony’s i-will-do-science-and-thereby-solve-my-problems method of dealing with life. he’s good people though, despite an unfortunate tendency to eat pizza while sitting on the ceiling and drip hot cheese into my hair. not cool, peterbird.

what makes him kinda terrifying is that he physically looks like steve did pre-superjuice, plus a few inches and a few pounds, but he’s crazy strong. the only avengers who can beat him in sheer strength are hulk and thor. and neither of them really have a calculable upper limit on their strength, so.

but being able to kick both stevie and i across the room doesnt stop him from looking like he needs to be bundled in blankets and tucked in a corner where nobody can bully him. lemmie tell you, it plays merry hell on my nerves when somebody throws a bus at him and he catches it and throws it back

One Tin Soldier
The Original Caste
One Tin Soldier

One Tin Soldier

Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
‘Bout a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.

On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They’d have it for their very own.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they’d kill.

Came an answer from the kingdom,
“With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there.”

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

Now the valley cried with anger,
“Mount your horses! Draw your sword!”
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it…
“Peace on Earth” was all it said.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after….
One tin soldier rides away. 

Listen, children, to a story that was written long ago

Bout a kingdom on a mountain
and the valley-folk below
On the mountain was a treasure,
buried deep beneath the stone
And the valley people swore
they’d have it for their own.

So go ahead and hate your neighbor,
go ahead and cheat a friend
Do it in the name of heaven,
you can justify it in the end
There won’t be any trumpets blowing,
come the judgment day
But on the bloody morning after,
one tin soldier rides away.

So the people from the valley
sent a message up the hill
Asking for the buried treasure,
tons of gold for which they’d kill
Came an answer from the kingdom,
“with our brothers we will share
All the secrets of the mountain,
all the riches buried there.”

Now the valley cried with anger,
“Mount your horses, draw your swords”
And they killed the mountain people,
so they won their just rewards
Now they stood beside the treasure,
on the mountain, dark and red
Turned the stone and looked beneath it,
“Peace on earth” was all it said.

King of Memes

Or, how Tony Found Out About Bucky’s Blog. 


Tony couldn’t seep. Sometimes he managed a few hours if he was tired enough, so usually he went to the gym and worked out until he was exhausted. Tonight, though, he found the gym already occupied: Barnes, with his hair tied up, working steadily at the heavy bag. Normally Tony would make an awkward comment and leave him to it, but instead he just heads for the opposite side of the gym. After setting up at one of the far treadmills, Tony worked his way to a easy run. Barnes was laying his fists rhythmically into the bag, and the quiet thumping was sort of strangely soothing. Between the running and the thumping, Tony slipped into a near-trancelike state.

 And then Barnes let out an ungodly howl, drew back his left fist, and slammed it straight through the heavy bag with a roar of, “DIE A THOUSAND BURNING DEATHS!”

Tony fell off the treadmill, scrambled to his feet, and booked it to the elevator.


kingofmemes posted:

holy shit you guys there was a spider on my punching bag !!! thanks to my many years of combat experience & martial arts training things are okay now

Posted at 4:47 AM, 37294 notes


Keep reading

[ncis:la] from the same cloth (1/2)

Scene Rewrite / Character Swap ficlet – 2x15: Tin Soldiers
(in which “Esme” reads Deeks’ palm instead of Callen’s)
by: asthedayisfading // jessica237

“Time to bait the hook, boys.”

At Sam’s prompt, Callen and Deeks approach the bar. In his head, Deeks is running his lines - a collection of his typical clever, smooth, bar pick-up lines combined with a few well-chosen, incredibly direct, obnoxious remarks guaranteed to ruffle Kensi’s feathers and have her summoning club security and, invariably, getting the attention of Singh.

But before he has the chance to even open his mouth, Callen jumps a step ahead, doing to him what Deeks so very often does to his own partner during investigations - taking what they’d planned and changing it completely around on the spot.

Luckily, Deeks is much better at playing that game than Kensi is.

(He’s just annoyed that he’ll have to find some other opportunity to impress his partner with his clever lines.)

Keep reading

Unexpected Mutant (Steve Rogers x Reader)

Chapter 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9

Word Count (3,614)

Everyone was getting suited up, grabbing what they needed. You were in the combat room with Clint, grabbing throwing knives, daggers, a couple of hand guns, and (what you doubted) enough ammo. You glanced at Clint, who was grabbing a large amount of arrows. You looked across the opposite wall, and went to grab the expandable metal batons Tony had created, and slid them into your combat belt.

The door opened, and both your heads went to look at the intruder, and it was Steve, “It’s time.” He told all of you, and you gave him a short nod. Clint put his arrows and bow on his back, and led the way out, followed by you. As you were passing to go down the hall, he grabbed your arm, your eyes looked from his hand, up to his face, “What are you doing?”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Have you ever gotten in a drinking contest with the others. Aren't you kinda like Thor and Steve (where they once drank that really fermented wine from Asgard and they weren't more than like slightly tipsy)? Is that at thing?

yes, we do have drinking contests but we play in teams as part of an elaborate drinking game called ‘forget your traumas.’ 

right now the teams are “water-related trauma;” which is tony and steve, “brainwashing & assassins;” which his me, nat and clint, and “anger issues” which is thor and dr banner.

 right now the method of play is some kind of freeze tag? and the floor is lava. there are ping pong balls involved. jarvis keeps track of the rules and tells people when they have to drink. we never know who wins though because we cant agree if winning is the most or the least drunk.

nerd-of-the-world  asked:

OKAY FUCKER I WANNA SEE YOU DO KING!STEVE AND MERMAID!BUCKY (bonus points if Steve is the king from Neuschwanstein (I may or may not have gone and fallen in love with it))

[why you gotta give me historical aus when I hate them neerrrrrdddd okay lemme see I got this]

Steve is five years old the first time he sees it. 

He’s playing by the huge, deep natural lake in the castle grounds, lonely in spite of his toys. The only other children he’s allowed to play with are his cousins from England, no one else is of an appropriate station, and they only visit in the summer. His nannies are no fun, they tell him to sit still and mind his fragile bones and don’t let him climb on the furniture. He might be a prince, but he’s a very bored prince. 

He drops one of his tin soldiers into the water by accident, leaning over the polished marble side to try and grab it back before it gets too deep. All he manages to do is soak his sleeve, and his eyes well up as the little soldier falls away from him, down into the deep. 

Then there’s a flash of silver, like one of the fish that live in the water, but bigger. Bigger. And then ghostly pale skin as a hand rises up to the surface, Steve’s soldier clutched tightly in delicate fingers. 

Steve stares at the boy - is it a boy? - in the water, frozen in shock until the thing he’s looking at smiles, a flash of sharp teeth that sends him running screaming for his nanny. 

The boy disappears back into the deep, clutching his stolen prize with a grin. 

*

Over the next few years, Steve starts spending more time at the lake. His father is relieved that he seems to be showing some interest in the outdoors, scoffs when his physicians warn about brittle bones and small lungs and an imbalance of the blood. His son will be King one day, it’s not right that he spends all day cooped up inside with his books. 

Instead, he takes his books outside and rolls up his trousers, dangles his feet in the water, and reads aloud in his crackly little voice. It usually takes a few minutes for him to hear down in the depths, but Bucky inevitably swims up and tickles his toes before he leans on the lakeside, listening to his friend tell stories. He finds books fascinating, doesn’t understand how so many different worlds can fit into such tiny boxes. 

“I have to go away to school.” Steve whispers as the light starts to fall around them, back outside after dinner in the slow heat of the summer evening. “To England. Are there things like you in England?”

“I’ve never met any. I’ve never met anything like me, I’ve always just been here. As long as I can remember.” Bucky leans his chin on Steve’s knee and nuzzles him with his cool, scaly skin. “What’s England?”

“It’s far away, I think.” Steve is ten years old, he can read a map and knows logically that England and boarding school is a long way away, but it’s hard to fathom the distance when he’s spend most of his life right here, in a gilded lake of his own. “I won’t see you for a long time. I can’t write, either, because you can’t read.”

“The paper would get wet.” Bucky nods, solemnly, and flicks up his tail to splash some water at Steve and make him smile. “You’ll come back though, won’t you?”

“I will.” Steve promises, hesitating for a moment before slipping into the water and throwing his arms around Bucky’s neck, trusting him to keep them afloat. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Bucky squeezes Steve tight, the only person who ever does because he’s not scared of hurting his bird bones, and then pushes him back out of the water before he gets cold. 

Steve doesn’t get in trouble for falling in the lake, in spite of his wet clothes, because the staff are soft when they’re going to miss him. He leaves for England the next morning, watching the lake through the carriage window until it’s way out of sight. That night, on the boat across the wide, cold sea, he dreams of water and silver eyes watching over him in the dark. 

Listen children to a story that was written long ago. Of a kingdom on a mountain, and the valley folk below. On the mountain was a treasure buried deep beneath the snow and the valley people swore they’d have it for their very own. So go ahead and hate your neighbor, go ahead and cheat a friend. Do it in the name of heaven, they will justify it in the end. There won’t be any trumpets blowing come the judgement day, on the bloody morning after one tin soldier rides away…
—  One Tin Soldier - Suzanne Vega
One Tin Soldier
Gimp
One Tin Soldier

Listen, children, to a story
That was written long ago,
About a kingdom on a mountain
And the valley-folk below.

On the mountain was a treasure
Buried deep beneath the stone,
And the valley-people swore
They’d have it for their very own.

Go ahead and hate your neighbour,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after…
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people of the valley
Sent a message up the hill,
Asking for the buried treasure,
Tons of gold for which they’d kill.

Came an answer from the kingdom,
“With our brothers we will share
All the secrets of our mountain,
All the riches buried there.”

Go ahead and hate your neighbour,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after…
One tin soldier rides away.

So the people cried with anger,
“Mount your horses! Draw your swords!”
And they killed the mountain-people,
So they won their just reward.

Now they stood beside the treasure,
On the mountain, dark and red.
Turned the stone and looked beneath it…
“Peace on Earth” was all it said.

Go ahead and hate your neighbor,
Go ahead and cheat a friend.
Do it in the name of Heaven,
You can justify it in the end.
There won’t be any trumpets blowing
Come the judgement day,
On the bloody morning after…
One tin soldier rides away.

New Job

@abrooklyndame

Nat’s skill set lent itself to all kinds of jobs, but he was trying to get out of the ones that involved killing people.  A bodyguard for a pop singer seemed like it would be fairly nonviolent - his spy background made it easy to come up with an authentic-sounding resume and a few favours called in gave him references.  Now his first assignment was to keep Anastasia Rogers safe on her way to and from a concert venue.  He waited on a bench behind her trailer for her to appear.