DON'T TREAD ON ME.

STEVE ROGERS. that little guy from brooklyn too dumb to not run away from fights. hates bullies. has a shield. a private steve rogers rp blog, written by robot for ash. est. 10/2016.

[americanis-blog]

                       ooc. hi guys! i just wanted to pop on here to tell you that it’s not too late. if you’re registered to vote, DO IT!  your vote matters, your voice matters, and you determine the future of our country, so please, GO VOTE.

[americanis-blog]

THE RULES ARE SIMPLE:

post the characters you’re currently playing as, have played as, and would like to play as, then tag people to do the same. ( if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people. ) aside from that, please repost instead of reblogging.

CURRENTLY PLAYING

steve rogers. s’chn t’gai spock.

HAVE PLAYED*

steve burnside. leon s. kennedy. thor odinson. dick grayson. henry townshend. ellis (left 4 dead). connor kenway. bucky barnes.

WOULD LIKE TO PLAY

parker luciani. jareth. worick arcangelo. han solo. oliver thredson. scott lang.

TAGGED BY: @visixnaryx

TAGGING: honestly i don’t know anyone here to tag them yet so !!! if you see this, do it.

* i have way too many to list, so this is a list of my most active muses / the ones i brought to tumblr.  shoot me an ask if you want something more thorough. ; v ;

[visixnaryx-archive]

♦️I’m just a sucker for anything I’ll never see

Increasingly intrigued with i m p o s s i b i l i t i e s♦️

[ rules | ask ]

[americanis-blog]

                                                              you’re my friend !  —-

                                                             written by ash and rob.

                                                           -—  you’re my mission !

[americanis-blog]

BUCKY.

        ❝ —-  ASSHOLES !  ❞ 

     a well aimed rock struck one of the bullies in the back of head; it was a parting gift to the retreating group as they scattered, and left their victim - a short, skinny kid - that bucky vaguely recognized from the school yard.  after the shiner he’d just given the Clarke boy, he doubted he’d be bothering anybody for awhile.  he watched as they disappeared from sight, then turned to Rogers, offering a hand to pick him up off the ground.   

    ❝ ya’ took quite a hit there,  you alright —- ? ❞  frown lines form concern, hand reaching out to steady the other’s shoulder,  in support.   by the looks of him, a stiff wind could blow him over. but he had grit standing his ground like he did, despite being outnumbered and out-muscled.  it took guts. and he admired that.   ❝ i’m bucky, by the way. bucky barnes. don’t worry ‘bout those guys.   —— they’re jerks  &  stupid.    ❞   

steve should’a known he was asking for trouble the moment he opened his mouth.  something of a wallflower, he dedicated most of his time doodling in his sketchpad, and today was no different – until his art was ripped out from under his hands and dangled over his head from his sitting position.  he’s used to getting picked on – steve’s being was basis enough for a beating – but art was personal, it was his, and no matter how much his ma told him to ignore them ( ❝ they’re a bunch of punks, ❞ she said one night as she softly dabbed at the bleeding cut on his brow. ❝ they’re only riling you up because you let ‘em. ❞ ), he just couldn’t let this go.

❝ you drawin’ somethin’, rogers? ❞ the culprit – thomas – said.  tommy clarke was the school hot shot and was always givin’ steve trouble. steve was sure he could breathe and tommy would use it as an excuse to start wailing on him, so he wasn’t surprised to see tommy’s ugly mug making his daily rounds with his cronies.

❝ give it back. ❞  it was three words, but three words were all it took for hell to break loose.  steve couldn’t be bothered to remember who did what because it was always ended the same: he’d get a few good punches in before he’d wind up on the ground, bruised and bloody, too stubborn to back down but too tired to fight back.  he’d take it until they backed off, which is why he’s confused when he hears a loud shout and stops feeling the impact of hands and feet on his sides and face.  it’s why he dazedly takes the hand that reaches for him.

he’s bleeding, he knows that much, and he’s struggling to catch his breath.  leaning forward with his hands on his knees, he peers up at the boy and immediately recognizes him as bucky barnes, and his defenses return, all the comfort that peace brought dissipating as quickly as it came. bucky’s tommy’s friend, right?  so why is he----? this is a trick, isn’t it—

❝ m’fine, ❞ steve mumbles, breathless. ❝ could’a—took care—of it—myself. ❞

he wipes the blood from his nose and stands up straight, looking the taller boy in the eye. ❝ steve rogers--- and if you’re tryin’ -- to trick me, forget it and -- get it over with.  i can do this all day. ❞

[americanis-blog]

      ooc.  working on icons aka kill me lmao rip. i hope to interact with all of you lovely folk once i have a decent amount to work with!

[wandica-archive-deactivated2018]

❤

*cue bump n grind by r kelly* okay but i am so fucking stoked that @americanis aka the love of my life, robin, made a roleplay blog. after literal years of waiting for this weirdo to make a blog and write with me again THEY DID. and i have never been happier. they write steve amazingly well and i love saying random rambly shit in the group chat. i also love sending them bad shippy shit for things we absolutely do not ship. they are the gasoline to my raging wildfire and i couldn’t be happier. bruh fucking, never leave me. 

[americanis-blog]

“i dont know anything about captain america other than that he was the first and only president of america and is strong and likes to play frisbee with people yet his frisbee always hurts and/or kills and therefore has no friends and thinks iron man is dumb” - karli 2k16 // honESTLY I'M UGLY CRYING BYE

[americanis-blog]

WANDA.

His question takes her aback and she tries to quickly recover; to keep any sign of it from showing on her face. Wanda gives him a crooked smile and responds with “I’m fine.” An obvious LIE if he’s looking for it. In all honesty Wanda probably has no reason at all to lie to Steve, but she does it anyway. And even as she does, there’s a pang of GUILT deep in her belly. 

“I’m just… having trouble sleeping,” Wanda adds, hoping that’ll satisfy him. There’s something about Steve that she’s noticed and it’s his unyielding capacity for caring and COMPASSION. His ability to lead is only strengthened by this and perhaps it’s the reason she’s been able to follow him like she has. Wanda thinks now that he might be one of the only people in the world that she could follow with utter certainty. 

And it’s on that same vein that she realizes he might be one of the only people in the world she has left to TRUST. The witch shifts uncomfortably before turning to watch that coffee pot slowly fill with coffee. The air around them is slowly permeated by the delicious smell of exquisite coffee. Even something as simple as fancy coffee makes her feel a little lost. After all, she grew up on whatever they could afford and the quality was always less than fantastic. 

For a brief moment she considers asking Steve something a little deeper, but she lets it wait; instead going for the fridge and pulling out some eggs and butter. From the cupboard she pulls out bread and busies herself with ripping out the middle of it; leaving sizable holes inside.  

“How are you?” Wanda asks, busy with her work and thus able to keep her gaze away from his; shielding herself from making any telling expressions.

❝ me too, ❞ he responds.  lack of sleep is why they’re here in the first place.  it’s the reason they’re even having a conversation.  ❝ kind of hard to sleep when you feel the WEIGHT of the world on your shoulders. ❞

steve’s not used to domestic scenes, hasn’t been since the war.  there’s an INTIMACY involved with them that makes him feel out of place—uncomfortable, even—and he should feel that way here, but he doesn’t. he appreciates the company more than ever and, despite popular belief, he’s far more COMFORTABLE with silence than he lets on.

there’s an undercurrent of something in the air between them.  steve couldn’t place his finger on it, but HESITANCE was the only thing coming to mind.  he takes the time to look at her—really look at her—and through the scrutiny of his gaze, he’s reminded of the day he met her, of when hill gave him the debriefing on the twins.  the PARALLELS between them was like looking into a mirror and it’s because of this connection that he finds that he EMPATHIZES with the maximoffs in a way he couldn’t with the other avengers, not even thor.  looking at her now, he sees that she’s grown so much since then, physically and mentally ( not a child, but a WOMAN who grew up too soon ), but he knows that she’s not to where she could be, that there’s still potential to grow.

everyone claims wanda maximoff is an ODDITY, that she’s hard to figure out, but to steve rogers, she’s not so COMPLICATED—more like an OPEN BOOK, so long as you know where to look.  for instance, he can tell she wants to say something to him, but now it was just a matter of coaxing it out.

❝ but, ❞ he reaches over to hand her some spices for her eggs.  ( he vaguely remembers vision saying something about needing paprika for wanda.  he’s never had it before, so he wasn’t much help. ) ❝ you do what you have to.  one day at a time. ❞

his eyes never leave her despite her attempts to HIDE.  he’s never been good with HIDING…

❝ i’m fine, if not concerned about why the youngest avenger is hiding behind her breakfast. ❞

… nor with TACT.

[myshipperheart]

But I knew him                 You're   S t e v e 

[americanis-blog]

casual reminder that i love @wandica and @sparedparts bye.

[sparedpartsa-blog]

          ❛ i know. ❜  those were different times, it felt like a world apart. INKBLOTS of memory seeping through the cracks of a frail psyche   ( ; moments cut away in the void of dark space engulfing his conscience as flickers of that conversation spill back into his head-space. )    ;; azure irises are distant, buried in old ghosts of the past. tiny pangs of nostalgia burning away at the erosion of regret creeping into the hollows of his bones, a phantom smile looms in the shadows of the tightly wound grimace that seems to hold permanency on his features.

         he’s tired,  & it shows.   the kind of tired that bears on a man’s soul,  a deep-seeded exhaustion unfazed by sleep.  it’s shrapnel, lodged so far into his mind,  that escape feels futile.  drowning beneath the waves of his own subconscious, and he’s not sure if there is even relief to be had. not for him.   for a man whose done too much – for too long – bloodied hands still dangling from invisible strings,   dangerous  (  even if idle ) ;he’s heard it before.   they’ll tell him,  it’s not his fault. that he’s not to blame.  but he is,  the guilt still rests on his shoulders.  

     the paper falls flat,  eyes closing for a minute as a weighted sigh breaks the silence.

        ❛ thing is,  not everybody can be helped.  sometimes, it’s just too late.   ❜  graveled tone, crushed under a wave of regrets. each syllable feels heavy with self-imposed defeat upon leaving his lips, burdening the man beneath the MONSTER.   severed chains littered in the static void of his conscience. 

[americanis-blog]

❛ NO. ❜

the response is sudden, but it’s said with an INTENSITY that translates into the gaze he has PINNED to the man in front of him ( not a ghost, not a monster, but a MAN, his BEST FRIEND ) ; behind walls of steel and wire, through cracks both carefully chiseled and haplessly blown away, steve can see that BUCKY BARNES is there, stubborn and still fighting, and it’s taking everything he has not to lean across and shake the soldier from his resolve, to smack some sort of SENSE into him—never in his life has he met someone REFUSE to help themselves so STUBBORNLY as bucky in this moment.

( he understands now why bucky got so FRUSTRATED with him all those years ago. )

❛ i know you don’t believe that.  if you did, you wouldn’t have tried so hard to REMEMBER.  that journal – you KNEW me.  you knew me through that journal.  you went to the museum – christ, bucky, i can see that you’re trying, but you don’t have anything to PROVE here by doing it ALONE. ❜

a muscle in his cheek jumps with the clenching of his jaw.  he’s leaning towards him across the way of the makeshift table, and it’s with a sigh that he leans back into his seat, a softness returning to him.

❛ look.  i know you don’t want to talk about it.  you don’t have to, ❜ steve begins.  it’s an olive branch—he’s giving bucky an IN.  everything in steve’s being hopes that he takes it, for both of their sakes, and he extends his hand to rest on bucky’s forearm, warm flesh against flesh.  a LIFELINE.  ❛ but you need help, and what kind of BEST FRIEND would i be if i didn’t try to get you any? ❜

[wandica-archive-deactivated2018]

americanis started following you

            ooc.       and here we have the elusive robun ever breaking my heart because they don’t follow me back right away.

[americanis-blog]

            ooc.  i thought i was following you!!! don’t look at mE HISSSSS

[americanis-blog]

WISHLIST.

   here is my rp wishlist as of 10/23/2016 arranged from most sought after to not-so sought after ( but i still want them all the same! ).

A N Y T H I N G involving the 1940s / wwii! this time period is essential to steve’s character and it’s fun delving into the rich history of the united states and the allied powers pre- and peri-war. 

by extension of above : anything involving pre-serum steve, preferably pre-wwii ( but i’m not adverse to some hand wave-y magic depowering plot and/or au ).

steve adjusting to modern life. seriously, give me a silly thread where our characters are just shooting the shit and i’ll love you forever.

threads where character analysis and morality come into question.  we delve into this quite a bit in captain america: civil war, but i’d love to take it a step further.

CHARACTER SPECIFIC.

THOR / BUCKY : an exploration of the comic arc where thor offers his services to restore bucky’s memories through use of the tesseract.  in this case, however, it would be in aid to rid bucky of hydra’s lingering influence.

PEGGY : an au where steve never went under the ice or peggy was frozen as well and adjusting with him, but honestly, any interaction i get with a peggy will be treasured.

BUCKY : pre-wwii, just boys being boys.  post-ice and post-winter soldier, picking up the pieces and building themselves up again.  give me bucky and steve discovering what makes them bucky and steve in this new age.

SHARON : neighbors! neighbors, neighbors, neighbors!!! give me sharon lending an ear for steve and vice versa.  give me late night talks in the laundry room with jokes about bleeding colours and anecdotes about the work place from sharon.  give me sharon treating steve as the man rather than the myth, and i’ll give you steve as a confidant.

[jessicahenwicks-deactivated2018]

You got heart, kid. Where are you from?

[wandica-archive-deactivated2018]

              words seem to die on the tip of her tongue, green eyes flickering from her reflection in the mirror. the countertop seemingly very interesting for NO REASON at all. there’s a discussion she needs to have. and she needs to have it with steve. and though she’s sure this venture is FRUITLESS, she has to TRY. he’s one of the few people in this world who’s tried to understand her. and maybe she just needs counsel at this point. fingers curl in and she notes the black chipped paint adorning her nails, nearly gone at this point. almost as if arguing with thin air wanda shakes her head rather quickly, rubbing her hands down the pale skin of her face. 

              it’s now or NEVER. 

              quickly she leaves the bathroom and heads down the hallway to where she’s sure she’ll find him. steve is hard to miss and in no time she spies the broad expanse of his back from behind a counter. it’s a kitchenette type area and she’s sure he’s putting on some sort of SHOW. wanda can see all the little things he does, trying to remain a pillar of STRENGTH. the great soldier they can all look to for guidance. and unwavering leader with boundless knowledge in which to put their faith. but wanda knows that there’s so much more to him. and she knows the others do, too. but there comes a point where she can’t pretend she doesn’t. ever so quietly the brunette comes up from behind him and pulls the bag of coffee grounds from his hands. 

              ❛ for the coffee to be made, you have to put it in the machine, ❜ wanda says rather bluntly, going through the quick easy steps to start a pot of coffee. a task that it seems steve has been seemingly STARING at for a good five minutes. briefly she wonders what else he planned to do. perhaps make breakfast. something so mundane it seems almost out of place in their new life. for a moment wanda lets the realization seep in, that they’re CRIMINALS and her life will never be the same and people want her dead and–  

               a small shake of her head and she puts the bag up in the cupboard, turns to look at steve with a misplaced expression of amusement. it’s either comical or SCARY, she can’t tell. ❛ what are you doing up so early? ❜ // @americanis

[americanis-blog]

              Steve knew what he was signing up for when he joined the war.  Laying down his life to protect his country was what any GOOD American would do, and when Erskine gave him an in, he couldn’t jump at the bit any faster than he had.  Subsequently, he knew the BURDEN of RESPONSIBILITY would fall onto his shoulders as soon as he accepted the title of Captain America, was aware of the risks should leadership entail, but never in a million years could he have expected this.

              New York, Sokovia, Lagos, Vienna—they’re heavy weight on his mind, war zones he was directly responsible for, and combined with his new status as enemy of the state, it’s safe to say he has TROUBLE sleeping at night.  He’d just lost Peggy and he couldn’t bear losing Bucky, too, not after everything that’s happened, but in the effort to save his friend as STEVE ROGERS, CAPTAIN AMERICA—and the people Captain America was sworn to lead and protect—suffered CONSEQUENCES.

              He’ll forever be THANKFUL to T’Challa and his people for offering Wakanda to him and the rogue Avengers. He had no true obligation to help, but something changed in him after Zemo’s capture—gone was the prince hellbent on vengeance and instead stood a man who’s made peace with his grief.

              ( Steve noted that he seemed happier. )

              But for all the COMFORT safety in refuge inspired, it didn’t erase the GUILT, and that’s why Steve found himself awake as dawn slowly crawled from its slumber.  “Early to bed and early to rise” was a mantra he couldn’t seem to shake from his days of military training, but he was running on fumes at this point, and that was nothing coffee couldn’t fix.

              Guilt and sleep deprivation were a dangerous mix.  His mind couldn’t stop reeling about everything that happened, and Steve hadn’t notice he was staring off into space until those thoughts were interrupted by soft fingers curling around his and a voice ribbing him about the in-joke of his technological illiteracy.  WANDA.

              So he steps to the side and lets her do her thing.  Standing next to her in such a small space makes her seem even SMALLER, if that were possible—or maybe he’s just BIG.  Still, watching her invoked questions that he hadn’t the time to think of, let alone ask: are you okay? What happened in there? What did they do to you?  There was so much strength behind that unsuspecting face that he sometimes forgets how much she’s suffered.

                 ❛ Back where I come from, ❜ Steve starts to reply.  He knows how to use a coffee machine but he chooses to PLAY ALONG for the sake of keeping up APPEARANCES. ❛ Coffee was either boiled in a pot or made instant.  Buck and I wanted one of these machines but they were expensive, and when the war came around, it was the last thing on our mind.  No point in buying one when we wouldn’t be able to use it. ❜

              That’s what Steve said anyway.  Bucky argued that Steve would be there to, but he wouldn’t hear any of it.

              He realizes that he’s about to get lost in the train of his thoughts, so he pauses in his reminiscing to search her face and concludes with a suddenness that he could be honest with her ( not that there was any doubt in the first place ).  He turns to face her, back against the counter and arms folded in front of him as he replies in all seriousness, ❛ I couldn’t sleep.  How are you holding up? ❜

[sparedpartsa-blog]

         THERAPY.  lips press & attention diverts to the newspaper in his hands,  radio silence ringing static in his answer as the topic drops itself into debate, once more. the chaos clamoring in his skull as phantom echoes of bombs, screaming,  & the screech of metal fill his head in the dead of night ;; NIGHTMARES of crimson soaked carnage rising in the lull of sedation to fuel dormant panic.  violent memories flickering to life ; frayed, blackened, resonance coiled in the recesses of his subconscious - spilling awareness, and a surge of paranoia,  back into awakening state.   he hasn’t slept properly in days,   edginess grates his nerves -  shortens his patience.   but ——  the last time he’d been in the presence of a so-called therapist, it hadn’t ended so well.     &  doin’ it again unsettles him, more than he’d like to admit.

       ❛  ——-  i d’unno if talkin’ to some stranger is such a good idea.  after last time.  ❜  

[americanis-blog]

              HE KNOWS the ghosts of war && what they do to good men –  has seen the damage they cause, their ability to bring even the strongest of soldiers to their knees.  he knows because he saw it before, in the haunted faces of his comrades, familiar && unfamiliar, as both the little guy && the big, && he sees it now, contained by dark under eye circles and a grimace hiding behind a wall of printed ink.

            what he doesn’t know is how it feels.  he has an idea ( recalls the times he’s woken up in a sweat dazed by sounds of imagined bombs && bullets, phantoms of a time long-since passed yet recounted as if it were yesterday – which, for him, they were ), but 70 years of a MIND getting TORN APART && a BODY USED AGAINST HIM is lost to him.  there’s no way for him to truly empathize.

            but steve cares && through that caring comes a choice. it’s not like how it was then.   heads weren’t being kept down anymore, silent suffering wasn’t mandatory – there are resources now, things that can help, and while it’s not the cure-all that steve wants, anything beats the present alternative.  there’s only so much to say, only so much advice to give, when your best friend keeps tight-lipped in an effort to save your image of him.

            it’s a debate but it doesn’t have to be.  he understands bucky’s reservations ( holds the same himself ) but bucky can’t continue this way.  neither of them can.

                        ❛ come on, buck.  you were the one who told me i didn’t have to do it alone.                           i’m telling you that you don’t either. ❜