#rhodestoruin

[thestarkstillstanding]

I must look better in the rear view || Stank & Platypus

There was a part of him that was happy Cap was settling down, was finding some of that elusive happiness. He knew that he’d embraced his downtime, the retired life and family thing. It suited him more than he had ever expected. There were certain things he’d never let go of. Primarily a person, though he liked to think it was mutual. Once Cap had left, the first thing he did was dial Rhodey. 

It didn’t matter that it made him feel young again, calling his best friend because he was slightly distressed over an emotion. At least by now, she was used to it. There was just something about having her around that made everything better. Plus, she could tell him whether he was being an idiot or responding accurately. It was kind of something he relied on, not that he actually told her that, but still. 

He had to not mention the Platypus where Morgan could hear if he wanted to keep his hearing intact. His daughter idolized her aunt, for better or worse, and it was a terrifying, beautiful thing... just like Morgan herself. 

@rhodestoruin​

[ironifiicd]

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it (Rhodey @rhodestoruin)

@rhodestoruin

Tony wasn't used to the fussing over his appearance, at least not from others. The last time someone had tried to fix how he looked was his mother before a piano recital, smoothing back is unruly locks and wiping the grease smudge from his face left over from the motor bike he'd been fixing.

Even as an adult it seems his look isn't up to code as Rhodey quickly strides over and stops the mechanic in front of the tall standing mirror and begins fixing his tie, tugging at the knot and readjusting it as the Iron Man shoves his hands in his pockets as he tries to stand still and failing miserably as Tony then starts to rock on the back of his heels. "Is it finally up to your incredibly high standards, Rhodes?" Though the inventor likes to tease him he understands that there is a comfort in having someone care enough to look out for him, he doesn't dare say it out loud but there is a warmth and familiarity in the gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by him.

[murder-popsicle]

@rhodestoruin

Bucky was wrist-deep in dough when Colonel Rhodes wandered into the Tower’s communal kitchen. Natasha was in a funk, and Bucky had hoped that making some pirozhki to have with dinner might help brighten her spirits.

She wasn’t sure what the cause was – fallout from the Avengers’ last mission, the recent high-profile murder of an old colleague from their Soviet years, or maybe just plain bad memories – but Natasha had been tense and moody for a few days now, and so far nothing Bucky had tried had succeeded in lifting her spirits. But that didn’t mean Bucky was ready to give up; maybe comfort food would do the trick.

She gave the colonel a nod of acknowledgement as he passed by. That was about as much as they’d ever exchanged, apart from good morning or, on the nights that had been designated for team dinners, a polite could you pass the potatoes, please?

It wasn’t that she didn’t like colonel; it was just that she didn’t really know him. Bucky was still trying to find her feet here, after spending over a year on her own as a fugitive before finally deciding to seek Steve out, and in a tower full of people who were so clearly a team, a unit, she felt out of place.

Still, just because Bucky didn’t know him well didn’t mean she had any reason to be rude. So she glanced up, shot the man a small smile, and said, “Afternoon, Colonel. How’s things?”

[brooklynislandgirl]

@rhodestoruin {{xx}}

So is hers, she doesn't point out. Of course as beautiful and gentrified, as homey as Bay Ridge could be, it still doesn't hold a candle to Manhattan and is vibrancy. She also has the decency to have fire-escapes all the way up to her roof terrace. None of these things matter in light of the ballet of emotions she watches glide across his face to the music of his own thoughts. But he also…didn't really answer her question, the tease and implication, though if she's being honest, she just enjoys playing with Rhodey. In some ways she is reminded of a more serious Sam, a less overbearing Andy, and yet there is something entirely unique she can't quite put her finger on. One who is completely ignoring the rest of the fresh brewed pot behind him. And the bag on the table that has the best breakfast in all five Burroughs, still steaming hot because of a little judicious use of elemental mana. The tip of her tongue sweeps from between her teeth to dampen her lower lip as she almost smiles full of empathy and warmth. It can't really be this easy, though she's going to lean into it, see how far that goes. "Nevah gonna know, are ya? Is gonna haunt ya, keep you awake at night. How she do it? Scale da wall wi' hand and toe? She bribe da doorman t' let her in? She use key you no remembah givin' her?" Each one slightly more worrisome than the last. Then she shrugs, all innocence and rainbows again."Or mebbe, jus' mebbe national hero War Machine is gonna have a seat an' eat his breakfast while it still hot because a certain someone knows ya haven't been takin' care of yaself like you should. Man can not live in tin can..really really fancy one…alone. Besides, I'm a very determined an' resourceful....nurse."

[izzysarchivedblogs]

setting prompts -> accepting inbox things // 036, a masquerade ball. (Clint + your choice, idk this just sounds like chaos 😅) -> @rhodestoruin you see tony's a menace at these things cause he's good at them; clint is THE OPPOSITE

CLINT LIKED PARTIES. He liked mingling with people that he was familiar with, liked the drinks that he could get mixed up, and there was a part of parties that he liked. Social gatherings of the Avengers, poolside barbecues when the West Coast was still around.

Dog birthday parties for example. Those were the good kinds.

He could even try to pretend to be normal if he was suppose to be working a party, super spy stuff than that was doable although he'd hate it as much as this right now.

A MASQUERADE PARTY, which he thinks is a dumb idea to invite a deaf guy who preferred he could see everyone's lips even if his hearing aids were working. The amount of people with full masks, that covered the face and lips. MADAME MASQUE COULD BE HERE IN PLAIN SIGHT. Call it his paranoia, but he doesn't like not being able to read people as easily either.

On top of that, he finds himself in a suit, with a purple eye mask reminiscent of one of his Hawkeye ones. He wanted out of here; the people in general admittance too stuffy for his taste. The one thing was that the martinis came dry with extra olives and he recognized who he came in with.

He hip checks Rhodey, then groans in complain to him. ❝ What are we doing here again? ❞ CHARITY. ❝ When HE said he had grabbed out suits, I was expecting for mine to be purple and yours to be metal. ❞

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

continued from here {x}

It wasn’t often he was paired up with Rhodes for a mission but Clint didn’t have any intention of complaining. The man was proactive with backup plans, something that had never been the archer’s forte. He was more of a in the moment kind of guy, flying by the seat of his pants every step of the way and somehow always coming out with good results. They were the complete opposite of each other and yet the desire to smother the man with his pillow by the end of the mission was lacking.

“Hm?” Deeply focused on the files spread out across his cheap motel bed, Clint almost hadn’t heard James, head perking up to look around suspiciously before his gaze came to settle on him. A few blinks in confusion and he was brought back into the moment, suddenly realizing just how stiff his neck and back were from leaning over for hours reading. “Might as well. Isn’t like this is going to get any more interesting.” A small nod towards the papers before he climbed off the bed and stretched out his tight muscles with a relieved groan, feeling the satisfying pop along his spine.

“Is there any food left? What about coffee? Don’t know about you but I ain’t gonna make it until morning runnin’ on fumes.”

@rhodestoruin

[brooklynislandgirl]

@rhodestoruin​  {{xx}}

The biggest problem with Beth is that unless she's deliberately engaged in conversation and able to see his mouth, she doesn't always hear things quite the right way. She tries to minimise it in a hundred different little ways, but currently she was engrossed in her own screen, sifting through mountains of compiled data that numb the soul as well as the mind. His breath, his pitch and timber are clear, as much as the motion of his arms out of the corner of her eye but the words themselves are lost and it is clear on her face that she's scrambling to make sense. Woodsy Gulls are light. Dodge Ray's jackal bite. "....Uhm..." She turns her head. Large green-and-honey coloured doe eyes narrow their focus to Rhodey's lips as she twists hers momentarily to the side. "...Sorry, I didn't...quite catch dat." Apologetically she asks him if he could repeat what he said, and maybe this time if she pays excruciating attention she'll better understand the question and be able to answer him in such a way that won't sound like she's coming off a three week bender at O'Shaughnessy's Pub. Her only saving grace is that he knows her from past acquaintances, having worked with her brother who ~much to her chagrin~ has never been shy about pointing out her flaws in the past. He wasn't exactly cut out for SHIELD, even as a liaison, but then, neither was she from the outside looking in. More than once she'd questioned herself as to what Agent Coulson could ever really have seen in her to recruit her in the first place, but here they are. "But if ya askin' if I t'ink we need more coffee, answer is always gonna be yes."