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"I've always believed that all you need is one man to make a difference.

To stand up when others are told to sit down.

To speak loudly for those who have no voice.

And to fight the good fight."

Selective ✪ Multiverse ✪ 21+ ✪ Multiship ✪ Independent

promos and banners by @/RPSchtuff

CHARACTER OUTLINE

FLAWS.

moody | short - tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | liar | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgemental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | Insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | manipulative | gullible

STRENGTHS.

honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendy | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny

SKILLS AND HOBBIES.

art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather - working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting | reading | collecting | shopping | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing

Sun had moved to mid-morning when two sweat drenched veterans entered the coffee shop, the brunette mid quiet argument with the blond.

“Your head’s not on straight….” Brunette shook his head, stemming the flood of forehead grease with a formerly cool bandanna, “You consider that a run?”

“Was that too slow?” Blond’s Army shirt was in better shape, a leather bag tossed over his shoulder. Straight-faced, one could see the smile poking out the side of his mouth.

“Too --” Scoff hissed, the brunette raised his hands, the metal one concealed by a flesh appearing cover, to the ceiling, “There’s no helping you. Buy me my breakfast.”

Both straighten up when they get to the counter. Blond examined the berry themed treats. They order, take quick trips to the washroom, and emerge for their victory meal.

What kind of tragedy are you?

written in the stars

"it had to end this way. we all know it. only you were unaware. you had hope. hope, of course, only makes it hurt all the more. we all knew you would look back, oh love, there’s no other version of the story. and yet, alongside you, we still had hope. we believed in you, even though we knew you couldn’t win. and you believed in yourself till the last moment. it isn’t fair, is it? you didn’t know you were doomed."

Muse's Handwriting

Go here and pick out the font which resembles your muse's handwriting the closest.

Festigan

tagged by @aigisthosia

Character headcanon generator- repost don’t reblog

nearly drowned in a river as a child. / Ironically, no.

has not showered in two and a half weeks. / No. This is not the War.

is afraid of doing anything without other peoples permission. / No. He's gonna do the thing he believes is right, with or without permission.

can play the kazoo. / Probably.

Happy birthday, Steve!

— Bucky

Independence Day was a complicated day.

Steve remembered his eighth birthday – the Sesquicentennial, his parents and uncle crowded over a small sunflower cake in the railroad tenement apartment. A miracle he had made it to eight. A miracle his parents’ adopted country had saved him via a sideshow incubation warmer – at no cost!

Most years in the 21st century, Steve would turn down the spangled and firework events, eschewing the crowds and well-wishes. This year was a milestone.

Sail 250 was a morning event for both Caps. Sam, heart forever in Harlem, joined the Blue Angels’ aerial show instead of the DC celebration. Through luck or ‘providence,’ the remainder of the events the Caps were to appear at were canceled. Semiquincentennial’s triple digit heat made Steve more reflective than usual. A country with so much promise and damning, boasting all men were created equal in one breath and three fifths of all other Persons in another. Who could vote, who could be allowed into the country, who did not have to stop showing up at work or school for fear of being snatched up.

In the afternoon, friends were invited to Steve’s and Sharon’s home – the same unit Steve had grown up in. The Red Hook building was still owned by him, still used as a base. About a year ago, he had noticed the unit 415 up for rent, toured for a song and saw the entire place was in disrepair. Nobody knew he grew up here. Thank God. It would have broken his heart to see it become a museum. Back pay benefiting himself for once, he purchased the building outright, making the repairs himself, at no cost to the residents.

“Bucky!” smiling like the birthday boy he should be – he always had a jump in his heart when she showed up, Steve welcomed his oldest friend and sister inside. Sharon and Sam waved and cheered in greeting in the living room behind Steve. Neighborhood kids ducked out to the fire escape. “Glad you’re here.”

Head pointed towards the inner wall and hallway. “Isn’t it quieter?” Bucky would get it. Compared to the overcrowded, suffocating, apartment heat they grew up in, families sleeping on the fire escape or park, the air condition and insulation muffled the city outside and walls.

Shields and uniforms were locked in the bedroom in Sharon's security measures. No red, white, or blue in sight. Picture of Mom and Steve, the Barnes' family, the Howling Comm. andos, and the Aven. gers sat on the mantle. Console radio bought by Steve's uncle, remained when Steve was orphaned and evicted, played swing on new speakers.

Someone in the past decades had broken the wall separating the living room from the kitchen and dining area. Their model never had a bathtub kitchen. “Relatively, I mean. I didn’t expect the difference when I replaced the windows and HVAC.” Modern company set the thermostat cooler than usual.

Too hot to grill on the roof, Steve and Sharon had prepped and refrigerated tuna salad, Cobb salad, and beer. Kosher deli sandwich fixings and Dr. Browns were delivered yesterday. Room for the box was made near salted caramel apple and blueberry rhubarb crumble pies. “I got Cel-Ray in the fridge.”

Throat closed as he opened the box. Cake shaped in a paint palate, fondant brushes and paint tubes completing the design. Tears sweating his eyes, he enveloped her in a hug. "Thank you."

They fixed their plates. “I think the last time I felt this hot – besides the War – was just after my 18th birthday.” Record heats in the Midwest and other parts of the country, triple digits hitting Brooklyn almost a week later. “Took the girls to the parade.” During those days, he’d always downplay his birthday, not wanting everyone to rub their coins together to make a big deal. Not much had changed. Scale, maybe. “Can’t remember much of that night.” Blush sunburned his face, he looked at the vaulted ceiling. “Arnie dragged me. Let the college pals know.” Art school had more to debate about a few weeks later. Spain’s civil war and the Summer Olympics in Berlin were also 1936.