#cxptnrxgers

[hexboltiings]

Wanda was out, walking around the city, taking time to go buy groceries when she was sure she saw a familiar blond head of hair. So she approached,wrapping her own coat further around herself against the coming winter wind.

“You live in Brooklyn?” she asked with a half smile as she came to a stop in front of the good captain.

{ SAME I’m still not over Arno tbh }

[ofcrimsonenchantresses-archive]

I DON’T EVEN PLAY VIDEO GAMES THOUGH. I JUST WATCH THE YOUTUBE MOVIES. I USED TO SIT IN MY BROTHER’S ROOM AND WATCH HIM PLAY THE FIRST GAME. 

[bloodiedpearls]

cxptnrxgers said: { I was about to make a terrible joke out of this but then I thought against it }

// do I want to hear it kgjbrgkrg

[zimoivolk]

✘ (don't question anything)

Memeing :D ---> Hug

For Jamieboy

Steve Steve Steve. 

His very name a prayer, a promise. A bulwark against every dark thing that writhed inside, that festered beneath James’ flesh and surged near every moment of every single fucking day-.

But Steve. Steve was a castle, a haven, a locked cellar that James could curl up inside and just hide-.

Steve. Beautiful wonderful loyal, so goddamn loyal, strong strident Steve. Sometimes it felt like just his name, just the thought of this man, could fill James up and spread into every dark corner. Even just his grasp, the firm dominion of his arms, James didn’t need anything more. Was sure he never would.

“You gotta let me go if you want dinner,” James finally murmured, breath hitched as he clutched back, trying so bad to play this off, to be normal, even as he tucked his face as far into Steve’s throat as he could, as if he could crawl beneath his flesh and never have to be parted from his warmth.

For Volke :3

Should have stabbed.

Should have struggled and fought.

Should have clawed and let blood with its dagger, should have cut this hostile’s very throat and let him drain on the floor. A message, a warning, against any others that could dare touch T8, that would assume the permission.

But that might have made its father distressed.

That…that was never desired. Never an objective to work towards.

T8 could do nothing but exist in this grasp then, even as apprehension flared the length of its spine. It could not even move, forced again to be within the Shield’s terrible dominion. Terrible and disallowed, no matter how…how warm the Shield was. How lacking in violence and suffocation.

It was not T8′s choice to be here, so maybe it could be…forgiven for going slack in the grasp. For letting fall its head against a broad shoulder. When it returned to the superiors, they would understand. This was not T8′s fault. Not its father’s fault. They wouldn’t be wroth.

They couldn’t be wroth, not when this was not T8′s fault.

[bloodiedpearls]

cxptnrxgers said: { brb, gonna pick up the pieces of my broken heart }

// They go sit in a bar, sobbing about the people that first were their squishies and now come after them aggressively kejbgkgh

[infitixlis-a]

“On a scale of 1 to 10: You’re a 9, and I’m the 1 you need.”

BAD PICK-UP LINE

"I’m sorry sweetheart, I only date 8 or higher.”

[kryptonian-puppy]

{ Bruuuh did you finish the game? Are you sure Quiet and Big Boss are bff? hm? HMmm??? }

no bruh i havent yet??!! omg! noooooooooooooooooo! noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo nonononon this cant be! THEY WERE MY DYSFUCNTIONAL AND MURDEROUS BROTP