#cptsrogers

[shellheadtmark2]

“anon” | If you want to see your dear captain again, I suggest putting your skates on and come to the central place where fellows rock. There's a new star you should really admire *smiley face with horns*

See...The thing is...He hasn’t heard about this Christmas wish of Steve’s.  He hasn’t realized that Loki, apparently, has actually in reality appointed himself Thor’s Little Helper, in whatever...Disastrous thing that may end up as.  What he sees is a ransom-ish note proclaiming a kidnapping no one even knew had happened yet.

And he’s not stupid, he knows exactly who’s done it.  And he almost feels sorry for Loki right now, honestly, because when you kidnap someone beloved by the entire superhuman community, and respected by half the supervillain community - (when you kidnap someone as important as Steve Rogers is to Tony, who is mostly definitely like a dog with his jaws locked around something when this kind of things happens, and won’t stop worrying at it until he gets to you and Steve) - you might as well paint a target on your back.

Even if you brother is the almighty god of thunder.

He’s tempted - oh so tempted - to sent an alert via identicard, because that would raise...Well.  A lot of people.  A lot of people who like punching things.  And a lot of people who wouldn’t mind that thing they punch being Loki.  But first, he’s going to try a little recon...Sans roller skates.  And by recon, he means -

“Knock knock, Avon calling!”  What sounds cheerfully malevolent inside the helmet is delivered flat and robotic, his voice mechanized and warped through the modulator.  He raises both hands, repulsors in his palms blue-white as they’re armed.  “Did Santa’s little helper pick up a side hustle?  So...Pro-tip, that only works if you actually demand something, because I’m pretty sure all you’re getting out of this is a free makeover via fists to the face.”

@benevolentgodloki​ does not make good life decisions don’t worry @cptsrogers​ he’s here to save you and yeah i guess... @araedi​ please come collect your sibling @the dash - look just...don’t worry about it it’s fine it’s cool

[benevolentgodloki]

This his bad choice was slowly getting just that much worse. "Look, Loki, I don't think there's anything for you to do on this one. I was mostly here for support, then Tony put me up to it, and all I asked for was a Christmas with the original Avengers together again, which doesn't seem to be your realm of expertise."

Any dented pride owing to the costume he was enduring was put aside before an awkward and familiar face. What a sentimental thing Steve had asked for and Loki was eager to seize upon it. He smirked and gave an uncomfortable stare.

“Is that so? Setting events into motion that unite all Avengers in one place? No, doesn’t sound like me at all..” There was a glint in his eye that suggested he was already thinking about how to grant this wish, and probably not in the way the Avengers would think they would want.

[oldinformaticn]

@cptsrogers replied to your post “@cptsrogers replied to your post “›   In   conclusion?   How  ...”

steve vc: maybe we can tag team him

nat   voice:   i’m   just   saying   that   would   make   forcing   him   into   better   life   choices   easier

[araedi]

This was not his idea. Very tentatively, he sits on Thor's lap, mentally cursing the heat he feels on his face, knowing that the flush is probably obvious. What would Tony do? Flirt. Yeah, let's not do what Tony would do. "Santa Thors, I know you're probably busy with all your other gift deliveries, but if you're able, I'd like all the original Avengers together for Christmas. It's been a while and I've just missed everyone I guess."

He’s trying to be empathetic - truly he is - but the fact that Steve is blushing is tremendously endearing to the point that he’s struggling not to laugh. He keeps his hands down; resists the urge to throw an arm about the man’s shoulders for some ridiculous photograph and make it all the worse. 

The request Steve makes is, as expected, heartfelt and emotionally driven, with no desire for a tangible object. Typical Rogers; the man never changes. “What you’re asking for may well be a miracle in itself considering schedules,” he chuckles, “but leave it with me. I am rather good with miracles.

“In the meantime, my dear elf companion here might have something extra for you, wherever he’s gone.”

[techdesigned-a]

"Shuri, should I be getting a LiveJournal? I need to keep up with the kids."

“Steve, who has educated you so far?” She whipped her head up from her work, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. In all honesty, the girl hadn’t even heard of LiveJournal, quickly making a mental note to look it up later. 

“They’re doing an awful job. Everybody is on MySpace now, LiveJournal is a thing of the past. We can’t have you using outdated platforms, it’s practically illegal.” 

@cptsrogers // now this is the quality content i signed up for ( always accepting! ) 

[goldauric]

cptsrogers replied to your post: "I’m gonna start only responding to Dr....

excuse me dr. man

            i will hurt what you love most when you’re not looking 

[shellheadtm-a]

@cptsrogers​ #22 bridges - aisha badru

In some ways - the ways he’ll never say aloud - it had been better when it was a thing that had always existed, but something he didn’t talk about, didn’t breathe a word of to anyone; like religion and like politics for fear of starting a fight and discovering something ugly about someone you care about.  It hadn’t been happier, no, but better, in some ways, when it was something he kept under his skin where no one would see.  Where it wasn’t a raw, exposed nerve waiting to be taken advantage of.  When it was his little secret.  It had been safer, never breathing a word.  Something he could hang on to as an unattainable goal that he could strive for, sure, but know he’d never reach; a catalyst, maybe, to be better. Because acknowledging it - having it -  meant opening himself up, being vulnerable.  It means - if he screws this up there probably are no second chances - not anymore, not like just friends - and that’s utterly terrifying.

But then and now are two different organisms and he doesn’t really have any secrets left.  Not anymore, not like the heavy ones he’d been keeping for years.  And oh, he can say he’ll never keep those kinds of secrets again - and he knows he’ll try - but he’s been known to break promises as much as he’s been known to lie, hasn’t he?  But he can try, fight the long-ingrained habit of hiding everything of any substance.  Steve eventually sees right through him, anyway.  Everything he tries to keep in the dark always ends up being dragged into the light, in the worst possible ways.

Because while it had been safer - safer is a more apt description than better - to have hidden that away along with everything else, it’s not this.  It’s not Tony dropping on to the couch and worming his arm under Steve’s until he can link their fingers together, having settled close enough they’re pressed together shoulder to knee.  It certainly hadn’t had the little jolt he feels in the pit of his stomach every time he realizes he can do that now, it’s fine, he’s allowed because Steve knows.  And is apparently masochistic enough to even feel the same way.  Steve’s misfortune, Tony’s good luck.  His amazing luck.  He leans, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder and closes his eyes with a small, soft sigh.  He doesn’t think he’s been this still all day.  Or, rather, several, if he doesn’t count the sleep he’s had, which hasn’t been much.  Sometimes - and only sometimes - he feels like maybe they always should have been like this.  Maybe, if he’d been less of a coward, more afraid of being kicked off the team than anything, if anyone had discovered who he was, and then of the Illuminati being found out, that mess with the Guardsman armor, and-  Maybe, if he’d been more worried about this, the other wouldn’t have happened.  But that’s only sometimes.  Logically he knows some of those things were unavoidable.  And in that case he and Steve would have probably destroyed each other.  They very nearly had anyway.

“Hey, Winghead.”  Instead, they have now.  Tony’ll take it.  After everything it feels like an undeserved gift.  And he’s just selfish enough to want it, to want his cake and to eat it, too.  He doesn’t lift his head, doesn’t open his eyes, but he knows his smile can be heard in his voice.  “What’s a good-looking guy like you doing in a place like this.”

spotify top 100 // accepting

[archived-dcvilcomplex]

@cptsrogers said: don't have more sex. we can't afford funeral prices.

Give Matt unwanted advice! // Accepting!

❝ Get some insurance then! ❞  

[princelies]

@cptsrogers

“what were you captain of anyway- was it captain goody-two-shoes? captain im-better-than-everyone? oh- it was captain look-at-my-arse, right?”

[getwebbed]

@cptsrogers​​ sent  🎯  for a random headcanon

peter can cook. he’s not the best cook in the world, but he has a decent handle of things in the kitchen to make basic meals. he just usually… doesn’t cook because he lacks the time, and also the money, to be able to keep his fridge and cupboards properly stocked. (also he spends so much time being spider-man that he forgets to even use the things he buys, which means things will expire and he’s just wasting more food and money, so…) 

anyway, it’s why he resorts to quick things he can throw together like sandwiches (i won’t even explain how he upgraded his toaster to toast his bread even faster than normal), cereal & milk, and coffee. it also means he drops more money on immediate takeout like pizza, burgers, chinese food, and snacks like energy bars, bc it’s just 10x easier for him when he’s got such a frantic and scattered schedule. additionally, he does have an increased metabolism due to his enhanced powers, so the fact that he’d have to prepare more food than he used to just so he can feel filled for a while was just not plausible in the long run.

(and despite the fact he can cook a bit, he’s terrible when it comes to baking. for a guy so scientific, he’s not so good at baking when it’s like the ‘science’ of cooking.)

i digress. anywho, peter first learned some kitchen work when he was younger. he liked to help may and ben prepare meals from time to time. he certainly wasn’t the best, but he tried and had fun. when he was older, he hated that may was always the one prepping his food (she already did so much for him), so he started to take on more responsibility and pitch in wherever he could. then, once he moved into his own place, he figured he should learn how to cook a little… better for himself, though he rarely gets to use the skill. he’s just lucky he’s not prone to starting kitchen fires that often. it’s definitely happened a few times in the past (usually him burning shit), mostly because he got distracted by news related to leads he was trying to track down, etc., but otherwise, he isn’t completely hopeless in the kitchen.

[shellheadtmark2]

@cptsrogers "Hey, Tony. It's good to see you up and about." It really was, and the smile he had was broad as he pushed off his cowl. Steve propped his shield up against the bed, taking off his gloves as well and running his hands through his hair in a good itch. He'd been told the basics during the phone call over here, but he wanted to hear from Tony himself what was happening in that brain. "We--we need to talk. How much has anyone said? What's the last thing you remember?"

          There was a moment, when Steve walked in, that hundred watt smile in place, the way he'd pushed back his cowl, that Tony had almost believed everything was fine.  That he hadn't been practically banned from anything electronic or to a small, confined area of the building in the short jaunts he was up and making (because he could admit that...maybe his initial taking on Ghost had been a bad idea, so soon out of surgery and taking it easy was, at the moment, the smartest of ideas, as antsy as it had made him).  That he didn't get the feeling something was being hidden from him.  Everything had been just too brittle around edges since he'd woken up - something had happened, and he didn't like what it possibly implied, but no one had been willing to tell him anything at all, only that Steve was coming.  Steve would be there soon.  Steve would explain everything.  That he simply had to be patient (something he was terrible at) and wait to talk to Steve (something he had looked forward to - waking up and finding Steve wasn't there had been...well...).

And now Steve was there.  His best friend was in the room with him finally, he was going to get some answers instead of continually being given the brush off.  He knew he was missing a large amount of time - around a year, he couldn't be exactly, one hundred percent on that, he barely knew what day it was on a regular basis, but that was as near as he could figure.  A lot could happen in a year.  Or nothing at all.

"Hey, Cap."  His own smile was a little lopsided.  Steve looked...Well.  Like Steve.  Like he always did.  That...That was good, right, that he, at least, seemed put together, despite the fact that Tony wouldn't and couldn't deny that...Those questions had plucked at some nerve of anxiety he hadn't even been aware of existing until.  He fell silent for a moment after that, his gaze moving from Steve, to his own hands (which seemed thin, carried a few more scars than he remembered, especially around the knuckles and branching outward - light things, ones that wouldn't be noticed at a glance, but if he didn't know his own hands what did he know at all), and then to Steve once more.  "Your uniform.  It-"  Looked different.  Not dramatically so, no, but Tony had been working with Steve - had been friends with Steve - for so long now there was no way he wouldn't notice even the slightest change.  

He waved it away, physically and metaphorically.  It didn't matter.  A year, right?  A lot could change.  A lot maybe had.  "Ah...Well.  I've been stuck here with Pep and Hill and they've told me..."  Fuck all.  Fuck all was the answer.

"Not a lot.  Said I should wait for you."  And they hadn't exactly been feeling the Tony Stark love, that much had been obvious.  So he could figure that he'd done something stupid there, even if they wouldn't tell him what that was.  "You...We'd just formed the new team.  After the Raft breakout, we'd all bunked up in the tower.  There was that thing with Bob, and the thing with Jess, and-"

He spread his hands, indicating that was all he could remember.  "What I really wanna know..."  The part that had him most uneasy.  "Is why the Director of SHIELD is here playing babysitter.  Cap."  He paused.  Held out a hand.  "Steve.  What the hell's going on."

If the Director of SHIELD was here and he was being shunted off for answers, what the hell had he done?  Because he highly doubted Maria Hill was there out of the goodness of her shriveled black heart in concern for Tony Stark.  Hell would freeze over first.  "The hell's happened."

did someone say stark disassembled should haves?

[benevolentgodloki]

@cptsrogers liked for a vampire Loki vs wolfy Steve 

“Well, well, if it isn’t my old spangly friend. I was going to gloat about my new lot in life, but it seems I’m not the only one. Someone’s been a very unlucky boy.”

Loki swaggered the perimeter of an invisible circle around Steve, closing but wary. He gave a cursory sniff, fingers slowly dancing at his sides in preparation to attack or defend.

“Are you going to be a good boy?”

[betterxvillain]

@cptsrogers

Mystic Falls is a small town, so it was a little noticeable when half of it vanished. Abandoned cars littered the streets, trees were suddenly bare, and there wasn’t a trace of any bodies. For the first week it was total radio silence, until finally a disheveled news reporter appeared on screen with footage from everywhere--New York, London, Tokyo--and an unsettling message: half the world’s population was gone.

Not dead. Just gone.

He didn’t know why, but the vampires didn’t seem to be affected, and for the first time they had the advantage. No more hiding in the shadows, no more fear, no more rules. When the sun went down, it was open season. Humans had a penchant for survival, but there was no way they’d make it out of this one.

Which was why he was here, in New York, with no Damon and about fifteen percent of a plan. Find an Avenger, tell them about vampires, hope they decide to help instead of stake. Easy. Except it seemed there weren’t many left to choose from. A bright yellow flyer caught his eye as he walked down the unnervingly empty sidewalk, and Stefan pulled it off the telephone pole. Support Group lead by Steve Rogers.

He found the building just as a group of people filed out of it, all with heavy shoulders and tired eyes. Inside he found a tall blonde man collecting chairs, and suddenly it was 1943 again. “...Need help with those?”

[oldinformaticn]

@cptsrogers replied to your post “›   In   conclusion?   How   many   of   you   would   think   LESS  ...”

steve calls tony stark

nat   voice:   that’s   not   fair   tony’s   the   only   rich   guy   that   actually   likes   me!

[carterslegacy]

cptsrogers replied to your post “i hate endgame so much because now i have to sit here and make peace w...”

i honestly have the worst time remembering that steve didn't die in endgame bc that's just an easier thing for me to accept

ASPNDJOFKM ME. im like. hmmm. we’re not ALL pretending endgame didnt happen???

[soulbranded]

@cptsrogers --

Who the fuck had ever decided she should be in charge of anything? Rachel was good in a fight, sure, and she could work as part of a team, but this--politicking, standards and procedures, diplomacy--this was so not in her wheelhouse. But when SHIELD had collapsed and taken the Council with it, she’d emerged as one of the few capable of leading. As per freaking usual, her luck was just that bad. 

It wasn’t just that the extra-human world was in chaos without the Council’s oversight. Now there was a power vacuum, and factions were emerging. Witches who had felt the boot of the Council on their necks were coming out of the woodwork, and they were fighting her for control. At times she felt like giving in. Who said she was right, anyway? Isn’t that how this whole thing started--people convinced of their own righteousness? Except that these weren’t just any enhanced humans. They all had agendas, and not all of them could be trusted. She was developing an intelligence network of her own, thanks largely to Reed and Elena--thank God they were still on her side--and she didn’t like what she was hearing. 

Rachel wasn’t stupid. Even with Reed and Elena, she wasn’t strong enough to counter all the factions, especially if they banded together. Especially if HYDRA had burrowed its way into their nests, which she wouldn’t find wholly unbelievable. It was an infestation, and because she was a freaking idiot, she couldn’t just sit back and let it be somebody else’s problem. No, she had to get involved. 

There was one person she trusted on reputation alone. The trouble was finding him. A spy organization didn’t exactly hang out a banner on their HQ. But with a little digging, she managed to come up with an address in New York. Christ, she hated cities, and the Big Apple was so much larger than Denver. There were too many people, too much to watch, too many potential threats. She itched to have her hand on her gun and magic in her veins but she reminded herself that walking down 58th looking like you were about to mug somebody wasn’t a good way to stay low profile. 

When she found the building, it was about what she expected. Stone and nondescript, it blended into the rest around it. Just like the former Council, the new SHIELD operatives were hiding in plain sight. Puffing out her cheeks as she exhaled, she climbed the stairs and banged on the door. What was the worst that could happen? Sure, he could kick the living shit out of her and arrest her. She’d violated more than one law during the Accords business. And before. And after. But she had magic and a gun. That had to give her some points, even against a living legend--right? 

Jesus Christ, this was exactly why she shouldn’t be in charge of anything.