gcldenarcher-blog

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                                         –  benny hill theme –

[gcldenarcher-blog]

                                         –  benny hill theme –

[gcldenarcher-blog]

                                         –  benny hill theme –

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‘how do i interact with you’

write me a starter. send me an ask. punch me in the fucking face i don’t care just write with me

[gcldenarcher-blog]

SEND ME 👑 + A CHARACTER NAME OF A CHARACTER YOU THINK I SHOULD WRITE ! 

I’LL REPLY WITH 

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO 

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

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                                        AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!                        AS IN YOUR ASSES UP AND LETS GO!

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👑 + Rocket :L

lemme try new muses !!  accepting

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

duffle bag’s heavy enough for him to drag the flarken thing behind himself already. almost twice his size too, reading US ARMY or whatever, who cares anyways. it also clinks suspiciously, but hey, who’s askin’. exactly, nobody. ‘cause nobody’s left to ask. ears flattened does he rummage through various drawers and cabinets of the kitchen at the Compound, pocketing everything that seems semi-useful. no clue what a ninja blender does but it looks FUNNY at least.

“well, we got plenty o’ that stuff, ‘n a little o’ that, whatever that is, and I don’t know about this but I’m sure I’m gonna need it more than they will, so              ”

‘it’s a spatula.’

he pauses, ears pricked, whiskers fanned, and the fur down his neck stands immediately. bodyless voice. man, he HATES those. “‘n you are?“

‘FRIDAY. I am an AI invented by Mr Stark.’

who? ah, right, rich guy who went to space and never came back. well, happens to the best of’em.

“aren’t you like                three days early? I mean I don’t know if Mr Stark’s been, ya know, a lil’ cuckoo before shootin’ his ass up in the Milky Way but today’s Tuesday. I feel like should be talkin’ to Tuesday.”

‘it is a book reference.’

“right.”

definitely cuckoo. Rockets shoves the spatula into the duffle bag. ‘if you mean to steal these and leave with them, I would very much advise you not to do that.’

“oh yeah? or what, I get zapped and locked up? listen lady, I’ve escaped a couple of intergalatic SUPERMAX kinda jails, I ain’t scared of no compound bedroom guarded by Captain Cry-Me-A-River sulkin’ in his office.” truth is, nobody would notice if he left. or those that might don’t matter to him at least. no ones does anymore, so what’s the point, right?

‘no. but you might miss out on all the advanced technology Mr Stark has kept in his workroom.’

Rocket freezes mid-movement. Lone Ranger sure sounds good’n all. definitely the road he wants to take in the future. y’know, been there, done that, got some science junk embedded in his spine, but advanced technology? now that don’t sound HALF BAD if you wanna be out alone on a planet you’ve never been to before, right? “advanced, huh?” head tilted, does he look almost cute with the poofy cheeks.

what Rocket doesn’t know is that he’ll take a couple days to crack the security for Stark’s lab. and by the time he does? he CARES too much to leave, goddamnit.

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👑 + scott lang

lemme try new muses !!  accepting

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

he feels like Rick Grimes. season one, chiselled, still semi-sane, not-yet-murderous, clean shaven Rick Grimes, driving through the deserted remains of his once grand nation, while zombies occasionally flank the entirely empty highways. no future, no hope, no destination              well, no, that’s a lie. he’s got a destination. somewhat of a destination, someplace he HOPES he can go because frankly, he’s all out of ideas and people to call. and Scott has tried calling everybody. and their mother. Peggy’s literal mother. never done that voluntarily or fully sober before and nobody, thank god, had answered.

truth is, he IS sitting in the van, driving. truth is also that the streets are entirely deserted like they are in any post-apocalyptic scenario, truth is he has a bit of a stubble, truth is he has no idea what’s going on, truth is he has the same dark lucious semi-curly hair that Rick Grimes had before he went mountainman, not truth is that there are hordes of zombies. there’s NOBODY. not a single soul. and he’s somewhere in upstate New York and figures that you can’t feed directions to the GPS without knowing an address.

“uhm          uhm! excuse me!” why, Scott. talk to the closed window.

the van comes to a halt right before two gentlemen selling gasoline under a parasol while sitting on camp-chairs. guess that kinda thing is legal now that half the police force is gone. or something. Scott rolls down the window. yes. ROLLS. “hey. hey, excuse me I’m a little lost? around here I think, y’know how streets just look confusing without any traffic? weird, right?”

crickets chirp.

“I’m uhm               I gotta go to Avengers           well, Avengers. what do you call that? Avengers Lair? Avengers HQ? what         ”cricket chirping intensifies.

“I mean I’ve been there before! once. I               we know each other. actually. me and the Avengers, we’re basically,” he crosses his fingers in a way fingers shouldn’t be crossed. “like that, uhm, but the thing is last time I went there it was kinda strange and I also didn’t have to DRIVE, so now I’m not so sure anymore where to               just point in a general direction, that’d be great.”

‘Compound.’

crickets stop! and Scott blinks like an owl. owl-man. wait, no a guy like that exists already in the same movie as the big blue alien thing without any clothes on. “sorry?”

‘Avengers Compound. ‘n it’s a couple miles still up that road ‘n then to the left. big military like area, can’t miss it unless you’re a total idiot.’ the look on the man’s face tells Scott that he must be a total idiot then. and he offers a thin-lipped SMILE in return. “right. I remember that. good luck with your entirely illegal distribution of one of the most valuable resources of our doomed planet, while I go save the world now. with the Avengers.” there’s those damned crickets again. “well            bye.”

the van continues down the road, stops, gets into reverse, and once again halts before the shady two gentlemen. “actually, how much for a canister of that?”

[gcldenarcher-blog]

SEND ME 👑 + A CHARACTER NAME OF A CHARACTER YOU THINK I SHOULD WRITE ! 

I’LL REPLY WITH 

WOULD I: YES / MAYBE / NO

HAVE I EVER BEFORE: YES / NO 

ICON & WRITING SAMPLE (IF YES TO EITHER PREV. QUESTION):

[gcldenarcher-blog]

– Rupi Kaur | insp. requested by pleasantfanandstudent

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bestdefender replied to your post: threesome with tony and steve

okay but…….which one is mom

“you of course                     ”

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jessica jones and carol danvers

suggest threesome fun to the birb !!  accepting

“I wouldn’t survive that, would I? yeah, no I’m pretty sure I’d DIE. actual death by Snu-Snu                          I’m in!”

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feels ctd with @rationalunreason because it’s love

he hears the comm, too. in his own way. vibrations hammering sound right into his ear that comes slurred and sounds like it’s packed in cotton, but he can decipher the words. Stark calls it a WORK OF ART, Clint doesn’t disagree, but it’s still uncomfortable. everyone sounds the same. and if they don’t amp the frequency soon, folks like Thor and Rogers won’t be audible at all for much longer, with the low bass of voice that usually sounds like the grown ups in the Peanuts having a conversation.

“guys, stand down. we’re good.” ‘Barton          ’ oh, he knows THAT frequency. “I said we’re good!”

he’s not sure if they are. even with the hammer now hurled a nonchalant couple yards, which is cool, y’know, all cool, Hulk doesn’t need any weapons to inflict serious damage to Clint. such as death, for instance. so keep those hands visible, weapons on the back, mask off his face. Clint’s not a THREAT. never has been.

“buddy, I think they’re all pretty aware that we’d have been screwed today if it weren’t for you, so               trust me you’re not replaceable.” not as much as others. himself for instance.

thing is, Clint isn’t asking for Banner. he’s not even attempting any kind of lullaby or anything like it. just a talk with Hulk. a calm Big Guy is all he needs, not asking for anything else. and some calm is what the fella DESERVES, too. if anyone’s earned their peace for the day, it’s Hulk after all.

“wanna know somethin’?” he’s in chitchat mode. settling down on the ground opposite the Jolly Green Giant, legs tucked under his body, he’s sure to keep Hulk’s face in sight. not because he doesn’t trust the guy, but because he cannot hear his voice AT ALL. too deep.

“if that ever happens, it happens. nothin’ I can do about that, is there? que sera or however that song goes.” a nonchalant shrug. “but I’m not gonna worry about that now. call it a fault, I know Stark does, but I’m not gonna sit here’n grind my brain over stuff that MIGHT happen at some point in the future. so for now I’m                  just not scared of you. tough luck, Big Guy.”

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Nat and Bruce.

suggest threesome fun to the birb !!  accepting

“huh                y’know what that doesn’t sound half bad. yeah. yeah, no I can see THAT happenin’, that would be fun. let’s do that.”

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Steve and Bucky

suggest threesome fun to the birb !!  accepting

“depends                   would Barnes be freshly showered? trust me, that GREATLY influences my answer to this one. devil’s in the details ‘n all that, y’know.”

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threesome with tony and steve

suggest threesome fun to the birb !!  accepting

“is it bad that I’d feel like a HOME WRECKER if I got in between all those heart-eyes and snarks of love? ‘cause I would. I mean, not that I’d mind, I’ve done worse, but I can’t be the only one who’d feel a little weird gettin’ into bed with mom and dad, y’know.” a brief pause. “I hope. I’m not THAT southern.”