#libertycaps

[rictorscales]

@libertycaps

It was a good setting. The whole barnyard thing, the aesthetic of it all... It was good. It was nice.  Rictor liked it a lot more than he would have if it were an indoor wedding, though he figured that wouldn’t surprise anyone who knew anything about him. Being outdoors made him more comfortable, made him feel more at home... gave him the chance to sit in the dirt and get his pants all dusty. 

He was leaning against an honest to god haybale with his eyes closed, a drink gripped loosely in his hand. He cracked one eye open as he felt the footsteps approaching, recognizing the heartbeat long before the burly frame came into view. “I’m not dead, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he greeted. “Or passed out drunk. Not here to ruin the festivities or whatever. I just like the dirt.”

[immortalweapon]

[ text ] Sometimes I pretend to be boring so people leave me alone. // @libertycaps

(✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Really? That works? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Do you think I could try it? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): How do you pretend to be boring? (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Stocks! Do you talk about stocks? [...] (✉️ ➡️ Steve R.): Steve, I don’t know anything about stocks :(

[catalystsofchange]

i told you not to sneak up on me. // @libertycaps​

Even before he became a vigilante, Dick’s movements were silent. Acrobats were, by definition, pretty light on their feet, so most of the time? He got from one place to another without a sound. It tended to freak people out, sometimes. He spoke before they realized he was there, they jumped a foot into the air at his sudden presence. It really wasn’t an intentional thing.

So when he came up behind Captain America on a rooftop in New York, fully clad in his Nightwing uniform, he wasn’t trying to be sneaky. Honest. But... It was looking like he’d kind of failed at that.

“I thought you heard me,” he said apologetically, closing the distance to come stand beside Steve on the edge of the roof. His feet itched to take a running jump, to leap from this building to the one next to it and repeat the process until he was on the other side of the city. Not because he didn’t want to be here talking to Steve, but because he wanted to fly. He always had. “When did you get back to the city?”

[firstxman]

[ text ] I have an important question to ask you // @libertycaps

(✉️ ➡️ Captain America): Absolutely not. [...] (✉️ ➡️ Captain America): Fine. But if it isn’t something legitimately important, I /will/ have one of my students show me how to block this number.

[sovietavenger]

[ text ] Wait, would you take a bullet for me?

@libertycaps

(✉️ ➡️ Fossil. ): Logically, I shouldn't. (✉️ ➡️ Fossil. ): But I would, yes. (✉️ ➡️ Fossil. ): I've prevented you from taking a bullet before. (✉️ ➡️ Fossil. ): And you /did/ shield me a few times in battle. (✉️ ➡️ Fossil. ): Don't think too hard on it.

[sharcarters]

@libertycaps

Sharon knew that Steve was in New York, and she figured that he had to know that she was there too. He had to have known that she'd be stopping by to see Tony, to try and talk to him for the first time in five years, and maybe — just maybe get something that resembled her family back. Or maybe it was just dumb (and unfortunate) luck, that he walked up right next to her when the elevator came to the lobby of the tower.

Part of her wanted to tell him to wait for the next elevator, to tell him to stand at least another hundred feet away from her so that she could breathe. But Steve was about as good at listening to her telling him to take a walk as he was about when she told him to leave something alone. (He wasn't. At all. If anything he just dug his heels in further and started making trouble where there had been none moments before.)

It was a short trip to where Tony was, she told herself. She'd let Steve out first, let him talk to Tony first because if it was her, then he'd end up taking the attention anyway. Tony, it felt like, had a one-track mind to verbally battle Steve when he was in the room, and Sharon... she needed to talk to her cousin. Really talk. Five years and she at least owed him that. And Steve? It had been four years and seven months.

She only remembered because he had told her the timeline when he found her in Mandripoor. It was hard to ignore the passage of time when someone had reminded you of it.

But while she was spinning in her own head, the elevator came to an abrupt halt and she cursed under her breath. The second time — but the first had been caused because of the blackout — Avenger Tower was perfectly lit up. (Courtesy of the arc, she assumed. Different power, off the grid.) Which meant something else was happening. And against her better judgment, she shot Steve a look like this was his fault.

"How many times have you been trapped in an elevator?" She asked, moving towards the buttons and slamming on the emergency button, but even FRIDAY wasn't responding. (What the hell was happening?) Sharon looked up at the blank lights above the door, sighing as nothing lit up, no matter how many times she mashed the buttons. "Fantastic," she muttered, stepping away from the door.

"You are a beacon for bullshit, Steve. I hope you know that."

[ghxstwinter]

@libertycaps​

It still felt strange. To be allowed to walk among regular civilians and not have to be playing a game of pretend. To be the asset on a mission, to adapt to the crowd so no one paid you a second glance only for you to strike like a viper, fear painted in the eyes of the next person HYDRA wanted gone. He was given another chance, crimes forgiven despite the amount of blood covering his hands would never be gone. Even with the heavy weight of the small book in the pocket of his jacket, trying to amend for something you couldn’t actually ever truly amend for. Even his best friend still looked at him like he was something worth a second chance, a second beginning at life.

Bucky disagreed. Then again, butting heads with Steve wasn’t ever a rare occasion. That was something he was sure would be, for a lack of better words, interesting living together once more. It had been a very long time since he and Steve shared a place. He never treated Steve like glass, even when everyone else around them wanted to. He could only hope it went both ways. 

Entering the place they called home in this new version of Brooklyn he didn’t fully recognize, doubted he ever really would, Bucky called out, “I got us somethin’ to eat. Since you seem to think we can live on—” a pause as he threw open the fridge, gazing inside, “—pickles, mustard, and half a gallon of milk. What am I supposed to be able to make outta that, Rogers?” He drawled, putting up the various food items he had gathered from a bodega. That was familiar, at least. 

Taking off his gloves he had taken to wearing to hide the metal of his left hand, Bucky tossed the pair onto the counter and eyed his best friend. “So, how long are we gonna do this dance? You always had two left feet, Stevie. Are we avoiding everything or are we gonna actually face this shit head on?” Everything, as in returning to a city where things had changed. Where they were no longer on the run. So many things had changed, but some things seemed to always stay the same. “You used to at least have the barest hints of a half-assed plan before dragging me into a back alley fight with two goons three times your size. I think you can manage this.”  

[sovietavenger]

‘ i didn’t think it was polite to come to a home empty - handed. ’ 

@libertycaps

The term home sat uncomfortably. She had apartments before, she had places she went to — safe houses that were more familiar than others. But Steve said home and Natasha thought that was dangerously close to putting down roots. Even if no one else was pulling the strings anymore, Natasha couldn’t imagine what a solid vision of home would be. (Was it the compound years ago? Was it the people she had been with at the compound? And if so, why did she feel so much more like herself when she was changing locations nightly?) 

“It’s just four walls, Steve.” But she understood that it was sentiment — and and excuse to come over and see the apartment she was moving into. Alex hadn’t moved in her stuff yet (and if she was anything like Natasha, she didn’t have much to move in anyway), so the rooms were still bare. Natasha finally took the box from Steve and looked at it, a slight smirk at the corner of her lips as she let out a small laugh. “This is an ugly lamp.” Her gaze flickered up to him, “This better not be an excuse to break something in my apartment later.” She had already heard about that from a very pressed Sharon. Natasha propped open the door and motioned with her head for him to come in. 

“How’s the security business? Sounds real interesting.”