"The most he'd ever cared about anything remotely related was his uniform, which, beyond the stylistic, was pretty necessary. But now his suit comes from a lab far more advanced than the basement of a Brooklyn antique shop, and the only decision he really gets to make is if his pants are too tight. (They were, but he doesn't really think they changed them. He doesn't know why, but he thinks that might have been on purpose.) That being said, he doesn't know what he's done to deserve the double take Tony gives him as he walks in the room."

"Steve finds the Iron Man plushie on a table in the middle of the city, sitting between a stack of sunglasses and DVD cases. He chuckles when he picks it up, noting the uneven stitches and the red places that ought to be gold. It looks a little like a high school home economics project made by an apathetic student, but it’s still undeniably Iron Man and Steve is tickled."

Terrorists develop a riot-inducing spray that has unexpected effects on America's only Super Soldier.

Steve finds the Iron Man plushie on a table in the middle of the city, sitting between a stack of sunglasses and DVD cases. He chuckles when he picks it up, noting the uneven stitches and the red places that ought to be gold. It looks a little like a high school home economics project made by an apathetic student, but it’s still undeniably Iron Man and Steve is tickled.

Steve Rogers is a capable leader, a kind and cheerful man, a good friend, a strong role model, and a loyal soldier. He's also teetering on the edge of suicide.

Avengers at the State Fair: “What is Thor eating?” James asked. “Walking taco. With … ice cream.” "How many tickets did Coulson give him?” "Too many.”

It started with a box of women's clothing that the last occupants of their apartment had left behind. Bucky remembered picking up a pair of panties and throwing them at Steve and saying, "Go on, Rogers, these look about your size."