cast:captain america

Marvel made this shit (note how most of the fans in it are brown). Marvel saw that people didn’t like “Captain is a n*zi” but reacted in that way. 


submitted by anon


thanks anon! So for those that don’t get it they’re being clearly racist and anti semitic in their depiction of the people that didn’t like Hydra!Cap.

mod m

So anyway Steve Rogers is a little shit who uses dry humour and wit to the point where you aren’t even aware you’ve been completely and utterly undermined until three hours later when the conversation is replayed in your head and makes you contemplate your Entire Existence because you realise you just got Utterly Fucked Over by Captain America and didn’t even know about it.


Thor and Steve were ready to ask you out as soon as those elevator doors opened and you stepped out. they had been fighting for over an hour on which one was better for you and which would be able to ask you out first, but had ended up just deciding to both do it at once and make you choose.

but when the elevator doors opened, instead of seeing you, they saw something completely unexpected.

you and Bucky pulled away from each other quickly, both fixing your clothes and blushing. Steve’s jaw dropped and Thor choked a little on his beer, case settled.

It weirds me out that people argue about Captain America actually beating Wonder Woman

For a start:

  • She is way out of his weight class
  • Like, way out of his weight class, given how she killed a literal god
  • Steve is a cool character in the movies, but just because a character is a fave doesn’t mean they are powerful.
  • He would probably really admire her and at most they would spar, and she would have to hold back.

The fight I want to see though? Live action Wonder Woman versus Ghost Rider. Mostly for thematic purposes. Ghost Rider in the MCU uses a magic lasso of sorts as well, but while Diana is centered on the divine Robbie is empowered by the infernal. A devil versus a god. They also would have reason to fight - Diana is more optimistic, she will kill if she has to but it is not her first response, while Robbie is vengeful and actively works to slaughter. His targets tend to be pedophiles and white supremacists so Diana would probably be understanding of that, but they could easily clash over more ambiguous cases, or if Diana’s idealism blinded her slightly to how horrible the people Robbie were hunting if they had good publicity. (Until she uses her lasso at least)

Now in a clear fight, Robbie is in trouble. Robbie is in the upper tiers of MCU vigilantes, he can burst through a cell designed to restrain the Hulk with raw strength, and his fire can purge the supernatural and spiritually torture the guilt. But Diana is not guilty so his fire would be limited, and while he is strong she could overpower him and redirect his magical attacks. (In the movie she is like a Goddess of Protection or something) His main advantage is the ability he picked up in the final of AoS Season Four - the ability to open portals to Hell. If he can use this to teleport around, he has a chance to manuver around her, and potentially ambush her or dodge her onslaught. However it seems to take time for him to generate a portal, so he can’t use it as easily as Nightcrawler.

Diana would win, but it would be a fun fight, and I think the battle could end without Robbie being beaten, with him either forced to retreat or them coming to an understanding beforehand. I think he could last the fight, but he would be at a disadvantage the whole time and would probably have to be on the run constantly, and I don’t think he could win even if he lasted till the end.

@majingojira @thefingerfuckingfemalefury @akirakan enjoy me babbling about this crossover I like to think about. It would be such a fun fight to see. Like imagine it.

Only You

Fandom: Marvel
Request: “If your down to write about Bucky being angry jealous I’d love to read that ! Lol I enjoy love triangles and jealousy 💋” - @keepcalm-and-beyou
Word Count: 1068

“Booyah!” You yelled out in victory as you scored the winning shot of beer pong. You were high-fived by countless people as you walked away to the empty balcony. You leaned on the barrier and sighed.

The cool air brushing over your skin felt relaxing. You started to unwind from the intense party.

“Nice win” Sam congratulated you. You jumped from fright.

“Thanks” You chuckled. Sam laughed and entwined his hands with yours, making your heart race. You looked at him and saw him smiling.

“Why don’t we get out of here?” He said slyly. You giggled at his question. The booze was making its way to your head. You considered him a friend and not really more than that. You almost agreed to go with him but something held you back. 

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Media Today

Request: Hey there! I love your imagines and I just love what you’re doing for other POC and making an inclusive place for us where others will not. Do you think you can make an imagine where the media is going crazy over the fact that Captain America is smitten over a black woman, but he doesn’t gaf and has no problem defending your honor? Thanks girl! ✨ @squad-princessxo

You and Steve walked hand in hand down the street. You had plans to go get coffee, well you were getting coffee. Steve had his super soldier energy and he never needed midday coffee or tea or anything. Caffeine probably did nothing for him in the first place.

“Well maybe if you just slept like a normal person,” he suggested with a taunting smile.

“My best ideas come at the dead of night. Let me live my life, Steven,” you playfully snapped. You tried to really sell the gag with a stern glare, but it didn’t work. The moment you looked up at him you smiled.

“Yes, like your idea to write about a man-eating frog.”

“Okay, no I was on pain meds that time. That doesn’t count,” you laughed thinking of the god awful outline you wrote for a new story. At the time you thought you were a regular Stephen King. In the morning it sounded more like a tumblr cryptid. It amused you so much that you showed Steve and he hasn’t let you live it down

“Whatever you say, doll,” he smirked, pulling you closer to him. You heard the tell-tale shutter of a camera and turned towards where you heard the sound. As you turned you heard the sound again and your eyes easily found the man holding the camera who was taking pictures of you and your boyfriend.

“People are taking pictures,” you informed casually, looking up at Steve to gauge his reaction. He frowned a little and looked over his shoulder.

“That’s the problem with the 21st century, no privacy,” he grumbled.

“I thought it was that we relied too heavily on technology,” you reminded him of an earlier conversation in which he had gone on a rant about  how addicted to technology the youth was. It was one of his “old man rants” or so you called them. They never failed to make you laugh a little.

“If people weren’t so addicted to their technology there’d be no market for candid shots of people like me. Journalists would be forced to talk about real things, photographers would take pictures that meant something.”

“I dunno… I guess media is problematic… but it’s a necessary evil.”

“Is that what you think?”

“I do, because for every shitty smear campaign a trashy reporter pioneers, there’s another reporter who has a platform to talk about the real stuff. It’s a balance.”

“Well I hope you still think that when our story comes up tomorrow. I can see it now. Beautiful dame caught with national hero,” he made a sweeping gesture with his hand as if to mimic the big bold letters that would be used, “Wedding Bells for Captain America? Captain America caught in Manhattan with Beautiful Mystery Woman.”

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, hitting him lightly on the arm, “If those are the stories then I think I can live with it.”

Steve held open the door to the coffee shop, and gestured for you to walk in. The rest of the day was normal. You had coffee, teased Steve about being a celebrity, and he teased you about being so beautiful that of course people had to take pictures of you. It was nice to make light of something that you knew truly annoyed Steve. He hated paparazzi. He didn’t see the point in it. What was the point of following him around for pictures, and making assumptions about what he was doing, or what he was thinking. It seemed sort of trivial. At first, it had made him hesitant to go out, to explore the new adventures this modern world proposed, and then he met you. You were something out of this world. Eccentric was the world he used to describe you if anyone asked what you were doing and why you were doing it. She’s… eccentric, he’d say with a fond smile as he watched you live like you knew tomorrow wouldn’t arrive. He liked to take pictures of you, when you were making silly faces, or just staring up at him, listening to him when he spoke because his words were important to you. He often wished he could have a picture of the two of you when you’re lying in bed and you insisted upon being the big spoon because you said he needs to be held more often. He walked you up to your apartment door after the day was over, gave you a chaste kiss, then left as you were safely inside your home.

    That morning you woke up to an endless wave of text messages from friends and family. You hadn’t told anyone who you were dating. You didn’t want to have to constantly tell people no they can’t come meet Captain America. No, you can’t convince Captain America to come to their kid’s birthday party. It was much more drama than you felt like dealing with. However your messages were full of people asking why you hadn’t told them. You reeled wondering how they figured it out… and then there was a picture of a magazine that your best friend sent you and a corresponding screenshot from Twitter. Part of you felt surprised by the overwhelming hateful messages towards you, but that part was small and naive. You weren’t surprised, as you read it you kind of nodded because honestly it was about what you had expected. It was easier to look through and shrug off the hate from nonblack people. It didn’t hurt as much because they knew nothing about you, and it was easy to decide you had very little in common, but then there were tweets from people who looked like you. Black men and women berating you for being in a relationship with Steve. Those hurt a bit more, because they should know better. Either way, you stopped reading, assured yourself that they didn’t know you at all, and that they barely knew Steve, so none of it was real none of it meant anything. Nevertheless, you stayed in bed, deciding not to venture out of your home, afraid of the attention you might receive.

Shortly before noon, there was a knock on your door. You got up lazily to go to the door and then look through the peephole. It was Steve, so you opened the door without any further thoughts. You closed the door after him and tried to think of something to say in the few seconds before you turned around. You wondered if he knew, if he saw the things people were saying, and if they’d made him ashamed of you, if he was here to break up with you. You couldn’t bring yourself to come right out and say it, to just ask him why he had come.

“Hi,” you greeted as you turned around. You tried to lean against the door casually. The corner of his mouth quirked up a little at that.

“Hi,” he looked at you the same way he always did, then he opened his arms to you. You accepted his embrace gratefully. He crushed you gently against his chest. His hugs were always firm, they were grounding. His hand cradled the back of your head.

“Have you seen?” you asked quietly, voice muffled by his chest.

“Yeah,” he sighed. You were quiet again, processing that. He had seen, did that mean he’d seen everything, all of the hate and the ignorance and what did he think of it? Did he think anything of it at all? No of course he thought something about it, Steve had an opinion on just about everything.

“What now,” you asked.

He breathed in slowly, his chest rising and taking you up with him. He smelled so good, and you drank in his scent as if it was the last time you were ever going to smell it. His hands brushed your hips, skimmed across your waist as they came up to hold your outer arm. You looked up at him as he clearly wanted you to do.

“Now,” he began, “we continue as we were.”

He didn’t say it like he expected you to find it easy to do as he said. He spoke to you as if he was imparting you with a burdensome task, because he was.

“I’m gonna talk to a few people,” he assured, cradling your head again, and pulling you close to him once more.

“When you say talk to people, you do mean talk right?” you asked now that you could breathe easier.

“…As long as they say what I want to hear.”

“And what do you want to hear, Steve,” you looked up at him again, chin resting on his chest.

“I want to hear an apology.”

You smiled at that, thinking of some skeevy reporter getting their ass handed to them by Captain America. He bent and picked you up by the back of your thighs, making your wrap your legs around his waist. You felt like a koala as he carried you to the couch to sit with him.

“For today though, how about a movie, we’ll order in, and just enjoy each other’s company.”

“Ooo talk dirty to me, Steven,” you laughed.

Within the next few days you and Steve were back to normal. You hadn’t forgotten about the harsh words but it was easy to disregard them, to go about your life. It was a couple weeks of normality, save a few photographers who tailed you to your publisher’s office a few times. One day as you were getting your afternoon caffeine boost, you heard Steve’s voice. You looked around trying to figure out where it was coming from. Your eyes landed on a little TV in the corner. He was in casual clothes leaving some shop.

“So tell us about the girl, Steve. Don’t you think after your last girlfriend, I mean Sharon was beautiful-”

“Son, I get the feeling you’re trying to call one woman more beautiful than the other.”

“Well come on, she was-”

“Y/N is a beautiful woman, and more important than that she’s a good person.”

“I’m not saying she’s not-”

“I wasn’t asking your opinion on her,” Steve smiled cockily, “see what people like you fail to realize is, your opinion doesn’t matter. I don’t care. You don’t have to like her, you don’t have to approve of her, you can continue to be bigoted, hateful people and Y/N and I will be fine, because I want her and she wants me and it’s as simple as that. Have a good day,” he waved and walked away. You smiled at that, at his blunt dismissal of the man. You knew you’d be with him forever.

Lost Souls

Summary: You’ve been able to see them for as long as you could remember. Ghosts. Spirits. Souls. It didn’t matter what you called them, they plagued you day and night. Reapers couldn’t always convince them to pass on to the other side, which meant you saw them all the time. You’d stopped trying to help after a vengeful spirit had tried to kill you ten years ago. 

That all changes when you see a handsome ghost protect someone from… other ghosts?

AU where Bucky dies in 1945 and never becomes the Winter Soldier.

Pairing: Ghost!Bucky x Reader, Steve x Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Language (as always), mentions of death/violence

Word Count: ~4,419 (why am I like this)

A/N: Third one shot in the monster series. One more left (four total for my 400 follower celebration).

This makes me sad to write just on principle… But stick with it, folks, and I promise an incubus Bucky for the last part.

Masterlist // The Monster Series Collection

Originally posted by buckwildbarnes

You didn’t look at them. The ghosts. In fact, you avoided eye contact with almost everyone. If people died in recent years it was almost impossible to tell them apart from the living. Sometimes it was obvious; people wore clothing from two hundred years ago, or used slang you didn’t understand.

The wicked scar that stretched from your left shoulder to the left side of your stomach was enough of a reminder of why you avoided them.

You’d tried to help them, once. The dead, that is. You’d tried to help them finish whatever business they had and get them to move on, but when a vengeful spirit took its anger out on you and nearly killed you, you’d promised yourself you wouldn’t interfere with their world again.

You’d gotten pretty good at spotting ghosts without them spotting you over the years; you’d had to. Though you still flinched a little every time you walked through one, trying to blend in with the people around you.

You were walking home, sipping your coffee on a chilly October afternoon when you spotted him for the first time.

He was following a tall, muscular blond man closely. Even from far away you could see his steel blue eyes scanning his surroundings carefully, his posture tense. If you had to guess by the clothing and rifle strapped to his back, you’d guess he’d died in the 1940′s; you’d seen enough World War II ghosts to recognize their weapons by now. His dark brown hair was also in a style indicative of the late 30′s and early 40′s.

What surprised you, though, was the fact that he wasn’t wearing a uniform. It was also surprising that he was sticking so closely to the blond man, but didn’t seem to be trying to talk to him. Usually when ghosts fixated on a person they were yelling bloody murder trying to get the person’s attention (not that it ever did them any good).

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Shoulder to Lean On

Author: RuckyStarnes

Summary: Steve finds out some devastating news about Reader and goes to console her

Warnings:  just a bit of sadness

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 845

A/N: I have no idea about this. I was rather sad and upset when I wrote this, and I share even the crappiest things I write.

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

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Captain Amerikids

When Steve and Sharon decide to start trying for children, Steve goes in to see a doctor. He’s unique, after all, and so they both agree: he needs to get checked out. Will the super-soldier serum harm the child? Will the child inherit Steve’s abilities? Or worse, his pre-serum health problems?

It’s the first option that scares Steve the most, but he has to admit that the third one weighs greatly on his mind as well.

Neither one of them considered a fourth option, and both of them are shocked when the doctor returns and informs them that Steve Rogers was forcibly sterilized without his knowledge during a doctor’s visit in 1932. Because some group of eugenicists decided that the world would be better off if Steven Grant Rogers was not allowed to reproduce.

The procedure is unreversable. Captain America will never have children.

Though they are, of course, unaccountably furious, secretly, he and Sharon are both a little bit relieved. The anger can’t root anywhere in particular, because everyone who was responsible for the decision is long dead. But - though they’d have loved whatever child they’d borne - there was no denying that raising a superpowered kid would be difficult.

Tony flips out, retreats to his lab, starts working on a genetic recombination machine that will allow Steve and Sharon to actually have kids. Bucky brings up sperm donation - he’s been doing a lot of weird research lately, to catch up on the modern world (Clint should never have introduced him to Wikipedia) - and offers the names of a few places that might be good sources of donors. Natasha only offers her sympathies; she knows what it’s like to have that kind of decision stripped away from you, to have your autonomy violated and be stripped of a chance to make a legacy.

It’s Sam who provides the solution. It’s Sam who takes Steve and Sharon aside and quietly mentions a child he knows who needs a family.

Steve and Sharon Rogers quickly come to terms with the fact that there will never be a James Samuel Rogers or a Margaret Natasha Rogers. But they decide almost as quickly that Cameron and Melody are more than enough. Captain America adopts a young black girl and a Korean boy, and treats them no differently than he would his own. Because they’re family. His risk taking dies down, because his death wish is gone. With children to look after, he finally has something to live for.

As time goes on and the children grow, Melody becomes interested in Uncle Stephen’s magic, and her skill with sorcery grows as rapidly as Strange’s did in his early days. Cameron practices with his father’s shield and his uncle Clint’s bow day and night, and soon, both of them are called upon to join the Avengers.

Steve retires and becomes an art teacher at NYU, though Sharon remains in the field - spycraft is in her bones, and she can’t quite let it go. She drops in on her children from time to time, reminding them that they are loved, that they have family, no matter how far across space and time they may roam.

And the man who once became Captain America, the man who didn’t expect to live past 25, the man who enlisted because he wanted his death to be worth something - gets something he never imagined possible. He gets a legacy.

Captain America dies of old age, surrounded by a new generation of heroes: the grandchildren that the government once tried to deny him.

Originally posted by blackpipecleaner

Originally posted by iwillfindyouhook

The wedding had been beautiful; there wasn’t a dry eye in the church as you and Steve said your handwritten vows to each other. You had looked over at Bucky several times during the ceremony and each time he looked like he would burst from happiness. Everyone in attendance was overjoyed that you and Steve were finally tying the knot. When you two were pronounced as man and wife and shared your first kiss, the entire crowd cheered and whistled.

Everything had gone off so perfectly you could hardly believe it and now you and Steve were on the way to the happiest place on Earth. It had been Steve’s idea, seeing as how he had come to love Disney movies so much.

“I want us to spend our first days as a married couple in some place that’s filled with magic, cause baby you put the magic in my life,” he said sweetly.

After that how could you say no? So, with bags packed and tickets sorted, you two set out for the airport to board your flight to Florida.

The excitement pouring off Steve was palpable and you couldn’t help get excited yourself. You could have gone anywhere really as long as you were with him. Looking down at your hand that was clasped in his, you gazed at your wedding band.

You wondered if he knew that truly the happiest place on Earth was right here next to him. He looked over at you and smiled before pulling you into a kiss.

“We are going to have so much fun,” he said as you two broke apart.