#armsandarrows

[benedictsvestcollection]

arms-and-arrows replied to your post “Yo Kastle fam....”

Every post-Punisher fic I’ve read has Frank waiting months to contact Karen but I want one where he goes to her like, the very day he is told he can live freely as Pete Castiglione. None of this “Karen has to stalk Micro and everyone at the FBI to find out where Frank is” business.

LMAO. I can write this tomorrow! I have a couple other prompts in my inbox! 

[arms-and-arrows]

If you make Black Widow fan art, I would like to be tagged, please and thank! Happy to boost your art! (And I run a Clint/Natasha fan art collective, too!)

Since tumblr is wonky, I track my url with dashes, without dashes, with spaces, and all that. See this post’s tags.

[oceanichymns]

You sit and wait ‘til I climb into the web you made.

[benedictsvestcollection]

arms-and-arrows replied to your post “I swear to god, if the DD writers have Karen tell Matt her story & NOT...”

Foggy must be the recipient of the backstory. Ellison already knows.

Honestly, at this point.... I don’t even want Foggy to know. He abandoned Karen post TD apparently (according to Debs herself while doing press for TP) for his hot shot new job. 

Why should she tell him when he ditched her? 

[intosnarkness]

arms-and-arrows replied to your post:there is something amazing and gratifying about...

Come between November and April or don’t come at all. It’s too hot for human existence here during any other part of the year. Also, get pepper spray. ~sincerely, a Louisiana lifelong resident

i’d say christmas, but SIL celebrates, so we’ll have to see. maybe her parents will come, too.

(that’s what we did for puerto rico-- we went in december between christmas and new years cause it was not so hot that it murdered us and it was beautiful)

[elizabethstuart]

Thanks so much for that Monde gifset!

No worries at all! I love giffing them hehe

[ibonekoen]

❤

This is set in an AU where Steve Rogers fell from the train, not Bucky, and Bucky took up the shield in his place.

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Metal fingers close tight around Clint’s throat, and he’s starting to see stars. No spangles though, but what the hell is a spangle anyway? He can’t feel the ground beneath his feet, but he’s pretty sure that’s because he’s been lifted into the air by a half-crazed man with a bionic arm.

They call him the Winter Soldier, but to Bucky Barnes, he’s just Steve Rogers. Clint knows the name well; he’s read the files on Project Rebirth and he’s toured the exhibit at the Smithsonian. He knows the guy’s face and has heard Bucky’s stories about the skinny kid from Brooklyn who’d fallen from a train during World War II, but right now, all Clint sees in those dull blue eyes is the Soviet-forged weapon.

His fingers scrabble at the Winter Soldier’s hand in a futile gesture to loosen his grip but the only grip relaxing is his tremulous one on consciousness. “Little help,” he manages to rasp before there’s a blur of red and blue and a metallic clang.

“Let him go!” Bucky bellows, but the guy’s hold isn’t slackening.

Clint has just enough time to think that this isn’t what he meant when he said he liked death metal before he relinquishes his grasp on consciousness and falls into oblivion.

[intosnarkness]

i started writing clint-gets-magical-frostbite fic today.

After they're done with the Gods and Monsters of New York, Natasha takes Clint home. He feels like he could sleep for days, years even. The only sleep he got under Loki's control was in fits and starts, and was haunted by dreams of sinking, of killing, of being made to do things he would never do.

He unlocks the door and ushers Natasha in before him. She stops in the kitchen for something, but Clint stumbles straight to the bedroom, shedding clothes and shoes as he goes, crawling between the cool sheets in his boxers without bothering to do anything like turn on a light.

They're both exhausted, he realizes, as Natasha shucks crawls into bed next to him, her body soft and warm and familiar. She's lost some clothing, too, and he'd really love to do something about the expanse of skin she's pressing against his back, but the exhaustion takes over. So instead he yawns, his jaw popping in the process, and drifts off for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.