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libertycaps · 2 years
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immortalweapon​:
(✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): He’s always been really good with kids. I remember from when I was a kid. (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): You think she recognized you? People recognize me, sometimes. It’s always weird (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Honestly? I barely feel the cold anymore. When I was away, we were in the snow all the time. There weren’t any thick jackets, just thin robes. We were barefoot, half the time. Sometimes, I go out in the winter and forget I need a jacket. I don’t even think about it until someone else mentions it (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): I don’t know if that’s kinder, though. I don’t know if anything is kinder than anything else, with things like this […] (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): I’m sure it’s not that bad. It’s not that bad, is it? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): You’re being harsh! […] (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): He was. He was really good.
(✉ → Danny): Must be pretty great, having a group of people who have known you that long. (✉ → Danny): I don't know. Nat gave me some tips on keeping a low profile, but I think she gave up on teaching pretty quick. (✉ → Danny): Sounds like when I was growing up. Never minded it much back then, either, even if it made Bucky nervous. (✉ → Danny): It shouldn't bother me now, really. I can't even get sick anymore. I don't know why it does. (✉ → Danny): It's a tough one to wrap your head around, right? Least I'm not the only one. [...] (✉ → Danny): It's not that great either. (✉ → Danny): I'm just hoping she actually likes it, you know? I don't want to get her something and find out she was joking about it, or something. (✉ → Danny): Sometimes I don't really get her. [...] (✉ → Danny): You ever hear him in your head, even now?
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
(✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): are you calling me a liar? that’s really hurtful (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): his sugar baby.  (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): google it i promise you’ll love it! :) (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): i feel like you deserve the money more than he does. i’ll be like robin hood. stealing from the rich, giving to the guys in spangly outfits (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): does that mean you wanna come with me to quake his house? […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): yeah, well, nobody forced him into that career (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): it’s all good. i punched him, anyway […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): and i think you’re a sap (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): i’m telling you it is […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): right. sometimes ‘not bad’ is the best you can get […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): god, seriously? you /chose/ to wear that uniform? i can’t believe i put your dick in my mouth. (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): only one way to find out, right? i know an alien. i’ll ask him to invade, for testing purposes. but he’s gonna be weird about it […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): sorry i can’t hear you over my stellar education. putting in application to harvard as we speak […] (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): yeah, i’m pretty hilarious (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): are you sure? because it sounds like you’re about to start an argument with me about how many things you’ll argue about (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): he’s skeptical of everyone’s intentions, so don’t feel too bad about it
(✉ → Joaquin): I'm just questioning how thorough you'd be on this topic, is all. No lying. (✉ → Joaquin): I've heard of 'sugar' but I don't think it's in this context? (✉ → Joaquin): Oh. This concept seems exploitative. (✉ → Joaquin): A bit of money wouldn't be too bad, but not if it comes at the price of theft, Rictor. (✉ → Joaquin): A little property damage though ... [...] (✉ → Joaquin): Very true. He made his choices on all counts. (✉ → Joaquin): I would've done the same thing. [...] (✉ → Joaquin): Does that mean we can't be friends? (✉ → Joaquin): I'm telling you it's not. [...] (✉ → Joaquin): Don't say it like that. :/ (✉ → Joaquin): But yes, I chose it. I was trying to represent something bigger. They altered it a little, when I came out of the ice. Not so fond of that one. (✉ → Joaquin): Maybe we should just wait for those invasions to happen naturally. [...] (✉ → Joaquin): I think Harvard would be lucky to have you. [...] (✉ → Joaquin): I'm not arguing about arguing. That would be insane. (✉ → Joaquin): Including yours, I'm guessing?
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libertycaps · 2 years
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sharcarters​:
(✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): how special? (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): are you telling me that you think i stopped? (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): okay honest abe. just bending the truth? (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): oh. yeah that was right after (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): a lot of shit went down at the same time as the accords. feels kinda muddled (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): easy to cover up those old things too, let everyone pretend it’s the accords that had you messed up (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): [unsent] at least that’s what i did - tony was getting hit from all angles and (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): stevie (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): or stephen (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): or stewart just to really fuck with you
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): really? i thought when i pinched that spot on your neck that your mind went completely blank… note to self to pinch harder next time (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): :)
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): he’s close to tony. (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): i know that sounds stupid i’ve just dealt with this shit a lot in the past. people get close, pretend to be someone they’re not and then they gut tony (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): i told him to leave tony and zee alone and he said he’s tried, that they’re hanging out with him and seeking him out (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): it’s the same shit we did to each other when we were kids. i’d get pissed off and tony would show up with tickets to the zoo or tony would seal himself in the lab and peggy would drop me and danny off (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): we made sure none of us were ever alone (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): it’s got that… same feeling. like he’s family. (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): and i kinda fucking hate it
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): i thought it might be foreplay (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): so i made you better :)
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): i mean it’s not the worst thing (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): i’ve threatened to kill him a few times since we’ve met and he knows i’m good for it so (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): yeah i guess i did
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): [unsent] are you mad at- (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): [unsent] no you’re not mad you’re jealous (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): [unsent] if i moved in with anyone else would you be this- (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): [unsent] you’re a giant baby. a cute baby but a fucking baby still (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): he only has a lawn chair and a mattress on the ground. he literally has nothing to clean up because he doesn’t own anything (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): it’s sad, actually
[…] (✉️ ➡️ national anthem ): seems like it matters a little, otherwise you wouldn’t mention it
(✉ → 13): Depends. How much special am I getting back? (✉ → 13): Never. Just looks like you've kicked it up a gear, is all. (✉ → 13): Shining the light selectively on the truth, maybe. (✉ → 13): That's why I thought Tony was being so touchy, honestly. (✉ → 13): His personal life affects his work more than he'd like to admit. (✉ → 13): Though he still stands by it now and he's happier than he's ever been, so I guess I was off on that one. (✉ → 13): Stewart? Really? I don't look like a Stewart. (✉ → 13): Anymore, at least. [...] (✉ → 13): Completely blank, except for thoughts of you. [...] (✉ → 13): He pisses you off, so you trust him? (✉ → 13): I guess I get that. Sounds like how I used to feel about Bucky. (✉ → 13): I don't have many reference points for family. [...] (✉ → 13): Stop that. You're trying to distract me. (✉ → 13): You /make/ me better. Present tense. [...] (✉ → 13): Threats of violence are more like promises coming from you, that's true. [...] (✉ → 13): You're typing a lot. [...] (✉ → 13): UNSENT I don't own much, either. (✉ → 13): UNSENT I used to. My place in D.C. was nice. Nicer than I've ever had. If you'd taken the offer for coffee I would've (✉ → 13): UNSENT Do you want somewhere nice [...] (✉ → 13): It matters. (✉ → 13): But there's no point talking about how it matters if I don't know /why/ it matters. So it's fine. (✉ → 13): He's annoying but you like him enough to call him family and sleep at his place. It's fine.
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libertycaps · 2 years
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it just felt too easy to leave, like i shouldn’t be able to just leave. || @sharcarters​
Sometimes (most times) Steve got the feeling Sharon had left him in the dust, intellectually speaking. Their conversations were always about one thing but actually meant they were discussing three at a time, and she constantly looked at him as if she knew what he was about to say even if he didn’t. She was good at her job (the best, Fury had said that more than once) and that’s why, before he made any rash decisions surrounding rejoining SHIELD, he wanted to get her opinion on it. She was an agent, a soldier, she knew how SHIELD worked intimately – and there was a part of Steve that thought she deserved to be a part of any major life choice for a different reason, too, a far more personal one.
It started, as it always did, with Steve attempting a relatively simple introduction. I didn’t want to leave SHIELD, he’d said, always finding it easier to talk when he was busying himself with something else – in this case, it was cleaning scraps from dinner off the island counter into a bag for the bin. Despite the sudden change in conversation from what movie they’d go see that night, Sharon moved with remarkable ease (as she always did) and Steve was the one left quietly thinking it over for a long moment before he spoke again.
(She left SHIELD. He was talking about SHIELD, their shared burden, their shared legacy. She left SHIELD because of him, because of the sacrifices she made based on her faith in him, and they were talking about that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about them under that bridge. She’d left then, too. She’d left the CIA and she’d left–)
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“Did you feel that way in Berlin, too?”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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that’s not how god works. || @impulselantern
Protests were nothing new. Steve had to admit that he was somewhat surprised when he arrived in this century only to realise people still took time out of their day to paint messages on plasterboard, stick them to a wooden plank and scream their lungs out in hopes of being heard. The passion that was there when he was a child still rippled through New York, the methods were much the same, and while some might see that as as negative (nothing had changed substantially enough to negate the need for this kind of protest) Steve saw it only as a positive.
Most days.
Today, Steve was standing in front of a protest against something – the message had got lost along the way on account of two separate religious groups choosing instead to argue over their conflicting beliefs. “Ma used to say he worked in mysterious ways,” Steve muttered, “but I think I agree with you.” There was every chance of this going sideways (violence seemed more and more likely to break out the more years that passed) and Steve nudged Simon gently in the side. “You think we should get involved?” he asked. Was that how God worked? Putting the right people in the right place at the right time? Steve wasn’t sure, but it sounded about right.
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libertycaps · 2 years
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i know i’m not who you expected to see this morning. || @roi-des-voleurs
Genosha had become one of Steve’s favourite places to sketch. He sat down in the middle of the park, right where Rictor had sprouted those flowers under his hand as he elaborated on his mutant ability, and he watched as the city came to life around him. It was a beautiful thing, reminiscent of the bustling ports of Brooklyn when he was growing up. He was halfway through his latest drawing when a shadow came over the sketchbook, and he glanced up to see who was blocking the light.
“I bet the feeling’s mutual,” he said, tucking his pencil behind his ear and getting to his feet so he could shake Remy’s hand. “Nice to see you again. The wedding was pretty great, right?” It had been quite some time since Danny and Colleen were wed, and things were going in (remarkably) the right direction. “Your advice worked, by the way,” Steve provided, quite strong at first, though when he spoke again his voice caught. Heat burned at the back of his neck. “I mean, your, uh … About dinner. And the dancing. She seemed to like it.”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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i did my best. || @catalystsofchange
Steve felt it lingering in the air before Nightwing even opened his mouth. Fighting Doc Ock was only the beginning of a very productive partnership, and Steve’s desire to keep moving, keep fighting, keep doing something was matched perfectly by the man sitting beside him on the rooftop. Steve passed half of his sandwich over to the other man, and that was all that was needed to break the dam, to remind him of sitting in the compound beside Wanda talking about how if we stop, maybe no one gets saved.
It seemed an inevitable burden of heroism to wonder about the people you couldn’t save. They’d managed to stop an invasion of killer eels on the streets of NYC, but Nightwing wasn’t focusing on what they’d achieved; he was focusing on the one woman who suffered a broken arm during the chaos. “She’ll get better,” Steve said, knowing immediately what he was referring to. “She has the chance to get better, because of us.” A question occurred to Steve, and he figured if Nightwing could provide him clarity, he might feel a little better in himself. “Is it harder when they talk about you without knowing who you are?” he asked. Was it worse to have his actions criticised and compared to his history, or did he get it easier because people could rationalise why Steve Rogers acted that way? Was anonymity a protector or another knife in Nightwing’s side?
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
(✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): i mean, yeah (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): but i did mean literally (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): thanks, though! now i’m lost AND having a mental breakdown (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): i think i just saw a horse drawn carriage go by. do you think i time traveled? also, can you time travel? i may need a ride (✉️ ➡️ america’s penis): ha. not the fun kind of ride
(✉ → Joaquin): Have you lost yourself? (✉ → Joaquin): How do you lose yourself? (✉ → Joaquin): Can't you just ask grass for directions? (✉ → Joaquin): Rictor. (✉ → Joaquin): Time travel jokes aren't funny, Rictor.
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libertycaps · 2 years
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immortalweapon​:
(✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Yeah, me too I guess (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): He really is nice. You just have to look for it, sometimes (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): I haven’t heard of that one. Is it in the library, you think? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Oh. Yeah, I’m sure it wasn’t (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): I get that. I had a lot of that, too, after the plane crash. I got sick from the cold, and it took a long time to get better (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): [UNSENT] It probably would have taken less, but I had to start training before I was- (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Yeah. They wanted me to let go of the past, where I was. Sometimes, that meant forgetting it (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Okay. […] (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Isn’t that what a musical is? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Oh. One of the kids at the Center told me about that. I thought it was a movie? […] (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Quiet can get frustrating, sometimes. Or scary (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Maybe. He always seemed to have everything together, but… I guess I was too young to really know much (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): [UNSENT] Sometimes I feel like I didn’t know him at all
(✉ → Danny): I've seen the nice, sometimes. (✉ → Danny): He's really good with the kids in the hospital. (✉ → Danny): I tried looking for it last time I was there. The girl seemed to look at me strange. (✉ → Danny): You ever feel sick with the cold even now? (✉ → Danny): I keep thinking I should be used to it, that nothing could be like the plane. Still feel it, sometimes. (✉ → Danny): Forgetting it seems kinder, in some ways. [...] (✉ → Danny): 'Musical' implies a level of artistic integrity, I think. But she seems to like it a lot. (✉ → Danny): A show with music based on a movie, but not a musical. [...] (✉ → Danny): Sounds like he was a pretty good dad, if he gave you that stability.
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
(✉️ ➡️ ALL CONTACTS): this is a mass text. (✉️ ➡️ ALL CONTACTS): does anyone know where i am.
(✉ → Joaquin): In a constant state of existential dread, wondering about your purpose in the world and what the point of /anything/ is if you don't have one? (✉ → Joaquin): Or do you mean literally?
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libertycaps · 2 years
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sharcarters​:
“No,” Sharon said immediately, pushing a dramatic frown to her face as she shook her head. “I think that’s the exact opposite of teamwork, actually. And leadership. I mean — aren’t you supposed to be taking bullets for me? Shielding me from the danger? Not dragging me down with you?” Though, in all fairness, she had landed him in the hospital. It was only fair she suffered a little. No matter how (lightly) she protested against it. “I can imagine it. Mom and dad had a dog, Bullet, very original name, I know. But he’d wake up before any of us. Scrape at the doors and I made the mistake of leaving mine open one night and he snuck and licked me awake — then barked when I told him to get out of my room.” She grinned at him. The strain on her expression was fading with ease. Funny how he had that effect on her. “Might end up in your shampoo too, depending on how badly you piss me off.”
She didn’t push him to keep talking — to open that door that he seemed determined to keep shut, but she nudged him once more, teasing him one last time before dropping it: “Funny when you look so uncomfortable when I look.” Sharon knew why of course, it was just like with her. She had this great desire to be known by someone else, but when someone started looking at the details of her life, when someone started trying? Fight or flight seemed to kick in, and Sharon was expertly trained in both. And Steve had been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of both as well. “Smooth transition, Soldier. Spice into touch?” She looked at him, mischief in her eyes, as if he had just presented a challenge. This wasn’t the time or the place, but Steve needed to stop opening doors like this. “If you want something, Steve, use your words.”
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Teasing turned into flattery and Sharon brought her hand up, twirling her hand in her hair as if this was a prequel to something else. “You wanted me on side? You asked for Agent 13 on your missions?” There was a brief look of surprise that was quickly replaced with amusement. Natasha would have known — she had to. And she said nothing to either of them. “What did he say about why I wouldn’t join you? Too busy? Mission below my skill level? I said it sounded boring? How annoying did he make me?” Being on his team and being able to be Sharon would have been a better mark during that time. But Steve hadn’t been known to trust anyone in SHIELD. Even the most skilled agents. (And he had trusted Kate.) “So you’ve hinted at a few times,” she teased back. This was easy, strangely enough. There was no weight — mostly because neither of them had stepped forward to define this as anything at all. It was just a thing. (A thing that Sharon, if pressed, would argue was purely physical. As if each gentle touch of his hand didn’t leave her wanting for closeness again.)
He said that he wasn’t alone anymore. Turning their hands over like this was what he cherished. Like she was breathing life into this decade for him. But as she watched the motion, another thought slapped her in the back of her mind. He shouldn’t be putting this much emphasis on her, on them, on anyone human. They’d all leave him. And he’d be alone, again. Sharon didn’t act on the sick feeling in her gut, didn’t let it fade the smile on her face or stop her from playfully gripping his wrist. “It’s not worth the risk currently,” Sharon argued. “Circumstances change. The only thing that is certain is that nothing is given.” She stood up from the chair and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “But you’re right. You’re not alone.” Not now. (Not yet.) “Might not be a super soldier myself, but I do know all the sensitive spots.”
///
“I don’t think I exactly fulfil the role of leader, here,” Steve said, a teasing lilt to his voice as he looked at her. He didn’t usually give up his hold on the reins so easily. Tony said it was a control thing. Bucky said there was no one better for the job. He had the distinct impression Sharon would be somewhere in between on that one. “On the culinary playing field, you’re firmly in control.” It went without saying, of course – or at least he hoped it did – that when there was a real fight, when they were watching each other’s backs, all of that would be true. His partners, his teammates, had always been his priority; Sharon fit into the category of most important with even more surprising ease than anyone who had gone before her. (She’d hate that, more than likely.) “He loved you,” Steve said, a grin developing on his face. “You offended him. How would you feel if you went into someone, took all the effort to get up to greet them, and they told you to get out? I’m on Bullet’s side here.”
Was uncomfortable the right term to use in this situation? Sharon said it, so it must’ve been something pretty damn close to the truth. He’d never met someone more perceptive, someone who seemed to pull apart his (albeit predictable) reactions like cotton candy. It certainly challenged him, deviated from the normal he’d grown somewhat used to, but uncomfortable would indicate he wanted it to be over, never to repeat. “Maybe,” he allowed, tentatively, “but I don’t want you to stop.” Another confession, perhaps, but the truth was the only thing Steve found that allowed him to breathe a little, no matter how difficult it was to get out. “I meant–” Steve started, the top of his ears threatening to melt with the blush that rose on them. “Not that. I mean, it could be that. I meant, you know, we…” He waved his hand vaguely, but she wasn’t going to give him the luxury of filling in the gaps. “I like touching you in other ways, too, I mean. But you, uh … You thought it was smooth?”
Fumbling on the final hurdle was something Bucky could’ve predicted, so Steve just counted his blessings that his brother would never have to hear about this. “I asked for you a lot,” Steve said, a smile on his face as he lifted his hand to catch hers twisted in her hair. “Something close to boring, if I was going to narrow it down. He said you had your orders, and I had mine. Never the two to intersect. Argued that a team made up of two valuable assets was too much of a risk.” Better to bank on him and Nat being taken out together instead, since after New York they’d refused to work for long without keeping each other in the loop. He shrugged his shoulder, slightly, smile only growing at her gentle teasing (how many people did she speak like this with? Was it entitled to think that this early on, he might be an exception to the rule, someone who let her relax? He hoped so). “I’m not the best at flirting,” he said, as if it would be news to her, “but I’m learning from the best, so.”
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Currently. She said it like his decision on the matter might be altered in the future by details as of yet undisclosed, and during the war, he would’ve scoffed at the idea. He made choices in the heat of battle and those were the choices that stuck, for better or for worse. There was no going back, even as the world did change. But Sharon was used to a different world, a world where things altered and people moved to meet them. “They haven’t changed much in seventy years, from where I’m standing,” Steve countered. People would always desire more power, but there would always be others there to prevent them from misusing it … or at least that was the hope. Sharon stood up, and Steve’s attention went easily from the conversation at hand to following her with his gaze, leaning his forehead into her kiss. “You might make hospital visits semi bearable,” he said, aiming for a joke but, as always, she’d hit something soft, “but you know you still need to make this up to me. A lot.”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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catalystsofchange​:
“The wrapping was next level. Bows and everything. We tend to go a little over the top in Gotham… which probably doesn’t surprise you.” He grinned as he said it, shrugging his shoulders. Gotham was known for melodrama, so why should its citizens’ gift exchanges be any different? Humming at the question, he shrugged. “Something like that,” he admitted. After a beat, he brought a hand up to tap his right shoulder. “I got shot. Ended up having to ditch my old mantle and take up a new one, and when I designed the new suit… It made sense to add a little more protection to it.” It wasn’t the kind of information Dick handed out freely, but this was Captain America. More than that, this was Steve, who he’d worked with enough times to know he was more than trustworthy. “I can multitask, Captain. I’m very good at it.” He offered Steve a salute, still grinning.
Snorting, Dick tried to imagine a helmet on his head. “I’d have to be careful with the design. If it looked too much like Red Hood’s, he’d throw a fit.” After he was finished mocking Dick for the change, he’d doubtlessly be angry at the idea of the two of them matching, even marginally. Not that it mattered, in the end. This was all talk, all jokes and quips. There was something to be said for protection, but Dick had been doing this for so long without a helmet that adding one would only throw him off balance. His moves were precise, specific. Adding anything he wasn’t used to having offered more of a risk than it was worth. “Man, you guys keep yours in prison? We send ours to Arkham so they can break out in a month or two. Keeps life exciting.”
Science. Dick hummed, considering the foes he fought in Gotham. Crane was a scientist, and so was Poison Ivy. “He doesn’t have a thing for toxins, does he? The science guys back home love their toxins. Getting hit by Scarecrow’s fear gas is kind of a right of passage, but I’d really like to avoid anything like that here. It leaves behind a hell of a hangover.” 
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Dick fell back, watching as Steve baited Ock towards him. He was good, but Dick already knew that. He’d always thought Cap was one of the few New York heroes who might be able to make it in Gotham. Dick fought what little effort Ock was throwing his way on autopilot, most of his attention focusing on Steve’s fight as he waited for his window. He didn’t have to wait long. He saw the tentacle moving towards Steve and grinned, offering the other hero a quick nod. “Bingo,” he muttered.
Leaping up from his position, Dick grabbed hold of the tentacle and used it as a swing bar, launching himself forward and throwing in a theatrical flip before landing on the villain’s back. Once there, he wasted no time. Charging up his escrima sticks, he stabbed them into the power pack on Ock’s back, sending an electrical charge through the pack and into the arms. Sparks flew, and all at once, the tentacles dropped to the ground.
///
“Haven’t been to Gotham in years.” It hadn’t been his scene when he was there, but Steve would never pass judgement on someone’s home, especially not to a person famous for defending that place in particular. Nightwing didn’t shy away from a fight in any state or city, but Gotham had a special protection from the Bat and his associates that implied a certain degree of heart had to be involved. “They don’t go much for heroes. You managed to break through that.” Captain America and the Avengers were greeted with nothing less than scepticism when they walked through the streets of the dark city, but the Bats were trusted. They were almost revered. That wasn’t easy to inspire in such cynical people. “Learning from the past is fifty percent of what we do, right? You still got back on the field. Not many people do, after something like that.”
It brought back memories of Bucky, with every reason in the world to go off on medical leave after his experiments at Zola’s hands, refusing to step away from the war because he had a friend to follow. The correlation between this man and his brother only endeared Steve to him even further, allowing him to laugh at the implication of pissing off Red Hood. “Not sure how secure it is if you’ve got someone on the outside,” Steve said, choosing neither to confirm nor deny the rumours that surrounded the Avengers breaking out with his possible assistance, “but we try our best to keep people secure, if we can. I understand wanting to get people the help they need instead of throwing them in the cage, though.”
Then the time for conversation passed. There was the inclination to watch as Nightwing, with a flourish Hawkeye was sure to revel in, wove his way through Doc Ock’s tentacles, tying him up in a nice little electrical surge instead of a bow, but Steve didn’t give into it. Instead, he focused on the man while Nightwing took out the weapons, and when Octavius hit the ground, Steve was there with a foot on his chest, preventing him from standing up. “Not so big without your toys, huh?” Steve said, a slight smirk on his face as Octavius hopelessly attempted to lift his foot from his chest.
“This is imprisonment!” the doctor yelled.
“You’re right,” Steve said. “It is.” He looked back over at Nightwing. “Do you think we could make an argument this is within GCPD jurisdiction? The NYPD is just a little too …” He looked back down at Doc Ock. “Well. He’s had a few run ins with them already this year. Maybe something different will make him re-evaluate his choices.”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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glxrious-purpose​:
The chaos of this event only got better and better, as far as Loki was concerned. Except for when the talkative decorations and vegetables and animals decided to insult him, of course. But he was more than willing to watch them insult others, and even to do a little insulting himself in the guise of any of the aforementioned things. He had not had to do anything this time, though. 
The man had tripped over the pumpkin of his own volition, and the vegetable had an expectedly amusing response. Hoping to stir the pot further, Loki inquired whether the man was going to take the insult, but then as the mortal regained his feet, he gradually realized how familiar the man was. When he spoke at last, that confirmed his suspicion, but that only made him more curious as to how Captain Rogers had seemingly reverted to the way he looked before he had been made into a super soldier.
“Well I would too if someone chose to trod upon me,” Loki said, moving a little closer, trying to peer at Rogers’ face, “But at the moment, I am much more interested in whatever magic has occurred here. I have seen plenty of talkative vegetables today, but I have yet to see a man out of time who seems to have…gone back in time, somehow.”
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///
Wishful thinking that he wouldn’t be recognised, though his propensity towards the same had been known for long before Loki Laufeyson took a step foward, assessing him for familiar features. “Is that why you’re so determined to be on the other side of the equation, then?” Steve asked. It felt like a question Natasha would ask, one that she would hum thoughtfully to hear passing his lips. Loki always gave off delusions of grandeur, but it came from somewhere; a jealousy towards his brother that Steve could only admit to understanding on his worst nights, and certainly not since he saw Bucky’s face on that bridge.
The best course of action would be to leave. Loki clearly wasn’t intending to repeat the Battle of New York. If he was, his plan was far more long-term, and certainly wouldn’t be squashed by a man who could hardly walk down the street without fear of an asthma attack. He should return to the Tower, report a sighting, ask Tony for surveillance … but then Loki said magic with a certainty that Steve couldn’t just ignore. “What makes you think that’s what this is?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. It seemed like a pretty logical explanation for talking vegetables and animals singing choruses, but it was also possible they were all trapped in a telepath’s thrall. “Is this you?”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
“People honestly liking me?” Rictor snorted, rolling his eyes and hiding a smile. “No. I’m not used to that.” It was something he thought he might not mind getting used to, someday, though the thought alone seemed utterly unrealistic. Steve crossed his heart, and Rictor rolled his eyes again, fond and exasperated. “I didn’t know anyone over the age of twelve still did that,” he murmured, but there was no bite to his tone. And he wondered when Steve fucking Rogers had become the kind of person he could speak to without any hint of cynicism, wondered when a stupid one night stand morphed into whatever this was, wondered why he didn’t mind it. “Seriously? You stalked a mob boss to a One Direction concert? Dude.” He didn’t know whether to be impressed or confused at the concept. Both, maybe. Neither. Steve’s question only caused more conflict, because Rictor didn’t know how to answer it. He didn’t know how to describe his feelings on a country he’d never wanted to come to, but didn’t want to leave, either. “I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “I think it depends on the day. Sometimes, it seems better. Sometimes, it seems worse. And sometimes…” He trailed off, smile bitter as he shook his head. “Sometimes, I can’t even tell the difference.” Dirty cops, different laws depending on what you had in the bank, guns flooding the streets and falling into the hands of children… For all its talk on being the greatest country on Earth, America often didn’t differ much from the nations it looked down on.
He liked to think he was safer here, at least, but even that often felt shaky. After all, Mexico might have been where he watched his father die, might have been where extremists grabbed him off the street, but it was America where he was tortured, America where he was molded into something he’d never wanted to be. Rusty died in America, was buried in its soil. But… It certainly wasn’t all bad. He had friends here, was starting to accept that Steve was one of them, was starting to realize that he was okay with that… even if he wasn’t particularly good at it. Steve’s face fell at Rictor’s words, and Ric knew he probably should have felt guilty for saying them but he didn’t. “I guess,” he replied with a shrug, “but not the big one, right?” He should have let it drop, but god, he was bad at doing what he should. Maybe that was why the number of friends he did have always seemed on a steady decline. “Oh.” He actually felt a little disappointed at the revelation. “How sure are you? Like, a hundred percent?” Maybe he was rooting for the bald option, just a little. “It’s always touch and go with me, man. You gotta know that.”
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Rictor’s smile softened just a little when Steve spoke, because he got it. Not many people really understood Rictor’s relationship with his name — hell, most days, Ric didn’t understand it himself — but Steve got it. He chose a name for himself, and he liked it. Better than the one his stepmother used to call him, the one his father screamed loud enough to shake the walls of their house. “Exactly,” he nodded, still smiling. It was nice, sometimes, to be understood. “Yeah, that was what I figured when I came up with the cover. Guys like that get cornered by so many journalists, they stop questioning it after a while.” The bits of private investigation that he was best at happened to coincide with the overlapping qualities of private detectives and con artists. Madrox said that probably wasn’t a coincidence. Rictor said Madrox was bad at every aspect of private investigation and therefore really shouldn’t get much of a say. “Oh, you should always bet on me. I play dirty. Pretty much guarantees me the win.”
///
“I don’t know any other way to do it.” There had been a misconception in the early days of his SHIELD career that just because Steve was simple, he was stupid; that he lacked the capacity necessary to understand the complexities of the modern world. That was something he discovered quickly when he came out of the ice – the fact that people nowadays thought they were so much more advanced than those from the past. Steve knew different. They had the same struggles, the same intelligence, the same resources. The technology might look different, but the rest? That didn’t change nearly as much as it should have. “Stalked isn’t a word I’d use. I prefer ‘tactical tailing’, but yeah.” It was an information gathering mission, as far as Steve was concerned. When Nat came back covered in blood, that wasn’t something he asked questions about. “Everywhere starts looking the same after a while, right?” Steve asked. Brooklyn, Paris. Wakanda. “You’re still looking through the same eyes. That’s what my ma would blame it on, at least.”
It was why Steve knew running away was never an option. No matter where he went during the war, he was still the same person. The Avengers traversed the entire globe, and they still came back the same dysfunctional team turned family that they always were. Their problems still existed. There was no outrunning it, though Sharon seemed to be giving it the good old college try. “Not the big one,” Steve replied. “Might not be a bad thing. I didn’t like the ending.” It had been included in the welcome pack, sandwiched between Operation Paperclip and the formation of SHIELD, like the blatant destruction of two cities was nothing more than a plot point leading to the future. “Ninety-nine,” he said, more certainty in that statistic than anything else in the conversation. “Pretty sure he would’ve told me if he was. We were pretty close, before he left.” Before he went home – or at least that’s where Steve assumed the God of Thunder had retreated to.
Steve’s level of fame was different to that of Tony. Tony had been followed since he was a child, had cameras on him at every great event in his life, had press ready to jump at his beck and call. Steve was a legend, a hero, a figure from the past and one that drew much public opinion and attention, but he didn’t share the same charisma. The public wasn’t fascinated by him in the same way. He often found it a blessing. “I’m glad it was you approaching him, instead of someone else.” At least Steve could trust that Rictor’s intentions were mischievous instead of malicious. The same couldn’t be said of the other vultures that circled the Tower on a daily basis. Steve huffed a slight laugh, taking another swig of his drink before looking over at him. “So does he,” he said, looking back towards the dancefloor, “when he’s in the mood for it.”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
Rictor smiled faintly, nodding his head. “Everybody deals with it on their own time, I think. In their own way. If anybody’d tried to push me one way or another, I probably would’ve clocked them.” He was pretty sure other people had known before he did, pretty sure the flash in Skids’s eyes when he announced that he and Tabby were together or the grimace on Rusty’s face when, a few months later, he’d told them all that he was terribly in love with Rahne were signs of things that made a lot more sense in hindsight than they had in the moment. But they’d never tried to force it. They’d never tried to make him rush his coming out, and he loved them for that even if Skids hadn’t called him in months and he hadn’t been to Rusty’s grave since the funeral.
He couldn’t help but wonder, by the look on Steve’s face, if things had been different in his time. He couldn’t help but wonder if desperation not to be alone might have driven the other man to apply light pressure to his friend, if being the only one ready to admit what you were was just as lonely as being someone who outright refused to try it on for size. There was no good place to be when a closet door was locked. Ric had known that for a while now. “I don’t know if there are any ‘right people.’” It was a cynical way of looking at things, to be sure, but Rictor was a cynical man. He always had been. “We’ve got politicians in soldiers’ roles, these days. I don’t think that’s much better, either.” The war they’d been fighting for as long as Rictor could remember was an inherently political one, and it wasn’t the only one being fought, either. There were others that were less publicized, ones on the border between this country and the one where he was born, ones that built the reason for the island he’d pulled from the sea. War was everywhere. Ric wondered what a soldier like Steve thought of that. “Maybe I don’t want to sound less degrading.” 
Steve laughed, and it was so loud and boisterous that Rictor couldn’t help but laugh right alongside him. “You gonna do the ‘Disappointed Captain America Eyebrows’ thing? How will I cope?” His expression softened just a little, because he could hear in Steve’s voice just how genuine he was. He actually gave a shit whether Ric got himself in hot water or not. It felt like a foreign concept. “The cops would probably get a kick out of it if Captain America came to bail me out,” he offered. “You think you could show up in the uniform? Give ‘em a stern talking to?”
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There still remained a certain flame of anger in Steve’s chest to think about the idea that their identities were something to deal with, something to get past, something to accept. There were a thousand other soldiers sending letters to their sweethearts from the front, and they didn’t need to dismantle themselves in order to do it. They didn’t need to question, didn’t need to wring their hands, didn’t need to deal with judgement. “You shouldn’t have to deal with it,” Steve said, quietly. “That was always my point.” Arnie called it simplistic. He called Steve naive, said he was looking at the world as he wanted it to be instead of the way it was (“like you always do,” he said, because it became personal very quickly). “I thought if there was acceptance from my end, if I … if there was no hesitation on my part, if I was willing to be out there, then he could be too, that we could be… You know.”
Steve knew if Arnie said yes on that dock his life would’ve been different. Hell, he knew the chances of his life being shortened would’ve gone up exponentially. He never would’ve received the serum, would’ve been kicked from the army the second they found out, would’ve been lost to history like so many in their community. But there was still that part of him that asked what if. “I used to think my friends were the best people that could be at the top,” Steve said. “Howard wasn’t perfect, but he was a good man. Peggy, too. Things got more complicated when I went on ice.” They must have, to explain what happened with Operation Paperclip. Steve kept trying to run through scenarios where the Peggy he knew would’ve accepted working alongside Nazis, allowing them into her organisation. He could never quite get to the answer. “Well,” Steve said, a slight smile coming onto his face as amusement rose, “then you hit the nail on the head.”
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It was still strange when he called him Captain America. The title usually came with an inflection no matter who said it; respect or mockery or disbelief. It wasn’t quite the same here. “Even worse,” he said. “I’d give you the Steve Rogers variant. Nat says it’s more potent.” Steve rolled his eyes, leaning back against the grass, closing his eyes so he could feel the sun on his face. “I’d need to get a new one,” he said. “Left the last one in Wakanda. Just have standard tactical gear, now. Not nearly as impressive.”
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libertycaps · 2 years
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twentyninetynines​:
It was an interesting idea, that individuality was a thing that was important to the human condition. It shouldn’t be such a novel concept. On some level, Miguel knew that. He was a geneticist, after all, was someone who knew that every single person on Earth was built a little differently on a physical level, but… That never extended to mental state, in Nueva York. Alchemax wanted everyone to think the same, wanted all of them to adhere to the Stone way of going about things. You thought the way they told you to think, or you disappeared quietly in the middle of the night. Steve was right — it was closed-minded. It was terrible. It was a shitty way to live and a good way not to die, and it sucked how often those things went hand-in-hand in Miguel’s world. “Stands to reason,” he replied after a beat, realizing he’d been quiet a moment too long. Then, “But I don’t know how many of those… alternative coping mechanisms really work, either.”
Steve looked off, like he was lost in thought, like Miguel had said something that had knocked something else loose in his head, and there was a time when Miguel might have been uneasy at the thought of that. There was a time when he’d been so careful here, when he’d made sure to watch every word he said with the intention of making as few ripples as possible. But that was back when he’d thought he’d be going back home eventually, and he knew better now. He was going to die here. You couldn’t die without making ripples. He knew that. Not looking away from the window, he smiled tightly, shaking his head. “Tony usually likes things that are no good for him,” he pointed out. “Not sure where I fall on that scale yet. Does that worry you?”
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///
“That’s why we have each other, right?” Steve asked. He didn’t mean the two of them, specifically; strangers no matter how easily they seemed to have hit it off. He meant more generally, and it was easier to think about the big picture concept when he was standing in this place. The Tower was never somewhere that he considered home, at least not to the same extent as the other Avengers enjoyed, but it had taught him a lot. It made him open up his heart and his mind, made him rethink prejudices he didn’t even know existed. “No one person needs to understand all of them. You just need to surround yourself with people of a different mind, you know?”
Nine years ago, Steve would’ve agreed with him immediately, instinctively, would’ve called back to the first time he met Tony when the man struck him of arrogance more than anything else, or their first conversation on the Helicarrier that turned into a battle with the slightest provocation. “I don’t know,” Steve muttered, looking back over at the city – certainly his companion wasn’t meeting his gaze any time soon, and Steve wasn’t going to push it. “I think he’s got better about looking for the good in his old age.” There was a slight, teasing smile on his face as he looked back over at the other man. “He’s not the same person he was when we met,” he said. “His judgement has improved, I think. And the way he talks about you … it’s different than what I’ve seen before. More instinctual. He's given me a second chance, and I like to think I'm worth it." It would be pretty hypocritical not to extend that to Mike, too.
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libertycaps · 2 years
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rictorscales​:
At a certain point, when shit like this started to pile up, one of the most important lessons you could learn was how to keep walking. Rictor had a pretty widespread reputation for finding trouble and he knew it, but most of the time? The trouble he found was the simple stuff, the fun stuff. Stuff like bar fights and mostly harmless but still hilarious pranks. The big stuff was the trouble that found him, the shit like serial killers hiring XFI under false pretenses or mutant hunters looking for someone small name to take out in order to pad their reputation. None of that shit was his fault.
Neither was the rat uprising just outside Mutant Town. 
Rictor ducked his head as he walked by, intent on making eye contact with neither the rats crowding the streets nor the poor idiot they seemed to be planning on using as a human sacrifice. If the guy couldn’t manage to escape from rats on his own, he probably deserved whatever they had planned, anyway. It wasn’t Rictor’s fault, nor was it his problem.
At least, not until the guy called out his name.
Freezing on the sidewalk, Rictor groaned and turned back towards the man, ready to pretend not to recognize his own name just to get out of the situation… when he recognized him. He figured he got a free pass for not realizing who it was the first pass, because honestly? Steve was looking pretty different these days. “Dude,” he said, “did these rats turn you back into a twink?”
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There was a moment where Steve wondered if Rictor was going to stop at all, not that he would’ve blamed him if he hadn’t. His voice was much the same (at least to his own ears, which he knew were probably biased – and a lot deafer than they had been twenty-four hours ago) but his body wasn’t. Chances were Rictor would look up briefly, not recognise the person calling him, flip them off, and promptly leave him to his rat induced fate.
His knight in shining armor quickly had Steve letting out a sigh, raising an eyebrow as he looked over towards him. “Not really the main issue here, Rictor,” he said. “If you don’t mind, I–”
“I mind,” another voice interjected – that of the ‘rat in charge,’ for lack of a better term, who crawled on top of a cardboard box to make sure his words were heard. He was a decent public speaker, for a rat. Steve had the privilege of listening to at least four of his speeches today already. “This is a protest,” the rat informed Rictor. “We did not turn this humie into anything. We just suggested that he should watch his mouth when he’s on our street.”
“I live here.”
The rats hummed. “He lives here,” one of them muttered. The other waved a paw dismissively, looking back towards the head honcho.
“Are you going to cause problems for us too?” the head rat asked Rictor. “Because you really don’t want to get on our bad side."
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