#comeuphard

[a-man-outof-time]

OTP: Steve and Sam

-accidentally falls off the bed in the middle of the night

Honestly, I feel like this could be either of them if they’re, y’know, foolin around and lose track of where they are on the bed :D

-gives the other piggy back rides

Steve will gladly give Sam piggy back rides, but more often than not, it’s Sam who ends up carrying Steve in the field. (Not piggyback style, though, obvs)

-tries to act tough but is really a giant sap

I know I’m being redundant, but -- both ARE tough! Sam is more emotionally available, though, and has no problem expressing what he’s thinking and feeling. Steve can be a little more cloistered, mostly because he thinks he has to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders and doesn’t want to burden anyone else with his problems.

-almost burns down the kitchen trying to bake

Maybe not so dramatic as that, but Steve doesn’t have a penchant for baking. Sam can and does, mostly things like Pillsbury biscuits and crescent rolls that are pretty tough to fuck up anyway, but on special occasions he can whip up a pretty darn tasty pie.

-sings lullabies to their kids

SAM. Sam sings all the time, really -- cooking, driving, during commercials when he’s watching TV, washing dishes -- and he’d definitely croon a lullaby for his kids.

-morning person vs dead until they get their coffee

Both are pretty solid morning people. Sam’s not a big coffee person, and Steve drinks it just because he enjoys it.

-cries during sappy movies

Steve will get misty-eyed. Sam can and does get emotionally invested, but he doesn’t get physically verklempt or anything.

-wears a billion layers because they get cold easily

Neither. Sam will layer up by necessity, but even in the dead of winter he usually ends up in jeans and T-shirt once he’s inside. Steve barely wears more than his leather jacket, a hat, and maybe a scarf in the wintertime (unless they’re looking at blizzard conditions, at which point it’s either full tactical gear or his ass isn’t going outside at all.)

-initiates cuddling

Both! Just. Both. (I dunno, I like to think they have a very warm and open relationship all around, can you tell? :D)

-hogs the covers

Neither; they both like to cuddle in their sleep, so there’s little need to fight for the covers, assuming they’d even need them.

-would fall over their own feet while trying to seduce the other

You know...based on CA:TWS, I think it’s safe to say that Steve’s got game when it comes to flirting with Sam? And Sam definitely has game when it comes to flirting back, so -- I’mma go with neither on this one. Sam’s confidence would boost Steve’s confidence, and they’d end up just sort of falling into place, I think :)

[dr-betty-ross]

Blue Wing || Sam & Betty

Betty hummed as she looked at her hand then back to the others who were sitting around her. She had two pairs but the question was, did she want to risk it? She looked over each face, regretting instantly her choice to challenge these particular people. After all Tom, Ben, and Frank always had the best poker faces. Mabel sat beside her cheering her on as she threw in another piece of candy into the pile. They were betting for sweets and this would only make the pot so much sweeter.

“Alright boys, what’s it going to be?” She laid her cards down flat, grinning like a Cheshire when Tom and Frank swore and dropped out. They were risking folks, but not as risky. Plus they weren’t about to try and take the General’s daughter on. Enough stories about his poker games and enough stories about little Betty beating every soldier had reached their ear to make them not risk it.

“Come on Bets, you really think little o’ you can scare me? I fought besides the Japs, if you want to talk about scary.” Ben grinned at her before switching two of his cards and drawing two more. “Well come on then, play it.” She looked at her hand before returning one card, grinning when she got another of the one she wanted.

“Alright then, lay em out.”

He grinned in triumphant when he laid out three Queens, eyes daring her to do better. “Alright Ben, that ain’t a bad hand. I’ll give you that one but, you lose.” She laid out her three Kings and two fours, laughing wildly as he started raving up a storm. “And the pot goes to the ladies.” She raked the candy towards her, making sure it was in easy reach of the women around her. Many of them never really got into playing poker despite getting to the field. Sometimes it was hard enough to be taken seriously on the field without adding poker into the mix. Most of the times they were simply too busy making sure the boys stayed alive to dabble in such freelances. There were never quiet times for nurses and the ladies who were soldiers were often honey potting. Which left little time for poker.

Betty stood up and hugged everyone, laughing at all the gentle ribs they gave her. This was her second family, truly. She went to go suggest they play another game, perhaps Blackjack when a nursed stopped in, grabbing the attention of the whole room.

“Ladies and Gentleman, we have a new visitor with us today. His name is Sam.” She gestured to the Averaged sized man next to her. “He’s all the way from DC so make sure he feel welcomed!” She watched as the seniors started to approach him, waiting in the back till she could make her way to him.

New people were always exciting.

[thieves--gambit-blog]

5, 10, 15, 20, 25

5.  Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)  

His mind may be a little disorganized and he may get sidetracked pretty easily, but he keeps his living and working spaces pretty clean and organized. He doesn’t have a large amount of personal items. He’s used to needing to just leave so that helps.

10.  Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such? 

Gambit said he doesn’t have any. He’s perfectly stable, thank ya v’ry much.

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

Survive the class he’s teaching. Also, not to kill the students in said class….

20.  Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

It’s not an illness, but his mutant status is often seen as one. He was abandoned by his parents when he was very young. He couldn’t exactly hide that he was a mutant like others could. His eyes are as red as rubies. His abilities have presented and changed over the years, but that could be considered a childhood illness. He doesn’t considering to be one though.

25.How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Remy isn’t one to think too far into the future, he’s honestly lucky he’s survived as long as he has. talk to him in five years, if he’s still alive.

[arrowknocks-blog]

Ace Hit | Kate & Sam | September 4, 2015

Not being assigned to missions for a while kind of sucked, even if that did mean she had more time to take care of Lucky. Kate was a restless soul when she wasn’t exhausted, always wanting to move, always wanting to do something. TV and show binges were good for the evening--so she had this huge gap between current time and that time. What else was there to do? There was the range.

The range was good. 

Kate packed her bow and arrows with her because she knew she’d use them at some point. However, she was really there to shoot with guns. It was a simple process to get a handgun rented with ammo. The place had it cheap for about five hours, and she figured this was going along pretty well. They gave her the weapon, ammo, and a pair of noise cancelling muffs, and she was on her way. 

She eyed the workplace for few moments. It wasn’t so busy, with a few people occupying the booths at one corner. Her gaze immediately caught the empty booth by the other corner. Approaching it, she caught a glimpse of the guy at the booth right next to hers. "Hey,” she greeted him with a small smile and nod. People at the range were chill.

“Hm..” Kate looked down at her weapon when she parked at her booth, looking at her handgun. She ejected the clip and plunged it back in, just feeling it for a bit. “I can work with this,” she told herself, and she cocked it.

[doctorkarlasofen]

“Who are you talking to?”

Karla had been a bit…distracted lately. There had been her fight with the Living Laser where she had decided to help Tony Stark for some godforsaken reason, resulting in her getting thoroughly blasted with a laser and put in the hospital for a few days. Then there had been Rama Tut’s whole…situation, with the fighting and the time travel and the whole “clone and Steve” thing. And then Tony had visited and…

She sighed and leaned back on the bench. She was in the middle of Central Park at 1am. Not exactly a safe place to be but she wasn’t terribly worried about it. She needed to clear her head in a place that didn’t remind her of everything that was going on.

Besides, it was pretty obvious that she could take on just about anyone that might bother her.

I can’t believe you still don’t get it.

And, right on cue, the voice was back. That same stupid voice that had annoyed her after her fight with Living Laser, the one that looked like it came from the old Ms. Marvel Carol Danvers but was instead supposedly her. Clearly she hadn’t fully recovered if this moron was still showing up. Karla groaned and closed her eyes.

Did you think I would just go away?

“One could hope,” Karla muttered under her breath. When she opened her eyes, the woman was standing before her, blue eyes staring at her from behind that ridiculously generic black mask.

“Oh good. So we’ve escalated to full-blown hallucinations.”

You helped save the planet, you idiot. You fought alongside heroes. You helped defend not only Tony Stark, but Steve Rogers and his clone ex and plenty of others.

“I avoided ending up in a time prison by defeating a sociopathic time traveler. There wasn’t really another option.”

Please. You would have normally tried to manipulate your way into ruling the time, too. Play to his narcissism. Offer to rule by his side, support him, whatever bullshit you needed to do to claw to the top.

“Right. Because that sounds fun, being in a uncontrollable future ruled by a crazy person with just the hope that I could handle it and not end up trapped.”

What was the alternative? Hope that you could both defeat him AND somehow get back to your time despite having no knowledge of how to time travel? Did that seem smart to you? Talk about “trapped.” Add in how you took on an energy being for Tony Stark and we’re really shaping up into quite the gung-ho hero there.

“Yet somehow you’re the one with Danvers’s talent for not shutting the hell up.”

“Nice to see you, too.”

Karla turned her head roughly to the side. Sam Wilson. Really?

“Still stalking me, Wilson?”

“Not exactly.” He looked around for a moment before gesturing to the bench. “Though that wouldn’t be your biggest problem. Central Park? At one AM? Really?”

“I needed a place to think.” She looked back to where the figure had been before, but she was gone now. Of course.

“…okay. Who were you talking to?”

There was a pause. Karla broke it with a sigh. “You can sit here, if you want. I still don’t bite.”

He took the seat. Silence.

“So…saw the news coverage on the Living Laser. Did you know there are Moonstone T-shirts now? And some fanclub started up online.”

Karla groaned. “I can suspect who might have started that.” Goddammit, Kamala.

“They say you’re a hero now.”

Her nose wrinkled at the thought. “Fantastic.”

[a-man-outof-time]

Like a Marshmallow // Sam & Steve

There was only one reason Steve would willingly get on a plane anymore, and that was for a mission. Thankfully, the drive to DC was only about 4 hours, and he didn’t mind renting a car for the weekend if it meant not having to try to fib his way through airport security about not being THE Steve Rogers (he’d tried the “it’s a common name” thing once, which got him through check-in and boarding but didn’t work so well on the teenager in an Avengers shirt next to him, and it there was one thing he disliked almost as much as planes, it was excessive attention from strangers). He arrived at the VA a little before one o’clock and headed inside, meandering down the halls so as not to interrupt Sam if he was with a client.

There was something both reassuring and unsettling, sacred yet profane, about being in the VA building, not unlike when he stepped into a church these days. On paper, he had a place here -- he was a veteran, and in many ways he’d suffered for it -- but he was a veteran seventy years removed. The conflict, the politics, even the rules of engagement were all different; he could relate to today’s soldiers in the ways that mattered, but on some level, he was always aware that he came from their grandparents’ time. That was his lot in life now, he supposed: present but not native, fitting in but still a world apart.

He shook off his train of thought easily, though, when he got to Sam’s office, where the door was open and the room void of company. He was here, so he may as well be here one-hundred percent.

“Hey.” Steve smiled and leaned against the doorway, hands in his pockets. “Still on for our lunch date? Your choice, my treat.”

[backwardsandinhighheels1945-blog]

Difficult Memories (Sam & Peggy) 4 September 2015

Whether or not the VA therapy group was strictly speaking the right place for Peggy to go with her problems was water under the bridge.  It had seemed like a good idea when she’d arrived.  She was a veteran who was still struggling with some of the issues she had developed during her time during the war and with what had happened to her while working with SHIELD since.  So much had happened in a short span of time.  Coming home.  Keeping her cover as a telephone operator with her friends who couldn’t know she was an agent.  Finding herself in a new time period where the dead had seemingly come back to life.  The identity crisis that had sent her halfway around the world away from everyone she knew and thought she’d loved.  And now here she was back where she’d started and trying to pull herself back together without support she’d had the first time.  

But the stories the others told were so different from hers.  Whereas her scars had disappeared when Peggy was given a new body these men and women wore their wounds.  She listened intently with the rest as a man recounted the story of losing a portion of his face to a grenade he hadn’t seen.  He looked like he’d had plastic surgery but Peggy had seen what men who served in the first war looked like under their masks.  He’d been through quite an ordeal even with the surgery.  Faces were too hard to get quite right.

When a man spoke about his trouble loving and understanding his children Peggy felt for him.  She knew first hand what it was to come home and see how nothing had changed and just how painful that could be.  While she was home on leave her mother had chided her for how rough her hands had gotten and how muscular her arms were from the heavy lifting in her job.  Her sister had complained that she couldn’t find lipstick or stockings and Peggy hadn’t understood why they thought such things mattered during a war.  

Before she knew it the session was over and she hadn’t said a single word beyond the odd mutter of agreement in the right moments.  Mr. Wilson called the meeting to a close with the reminder that what they were feeling wasn’t unique and that they all understood what the others were going through.  Maybe she ought to have spoken.  It seemed almost a shake to have come so far and only listen.  But what others had said had indeed helped ease her state of mind.  That was half a blessing in and of itself.  Deep in thought she spent a little longer than she maybe ought to have in collecting her purse and keys.