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"Oh hello to you too."

"Is this some kinda joke to ya? That was unnecessary."


"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."

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⏛ Selective Steve Rogers/Commander Rogers RP/Ask 
⏛ Over 2 years on this blog
⏛ 4+ years RP experience
⏛ 3rd person Para, Icon, Askbox, etc.
⏛ MCU/616/AU/UA
⏛ Currently looking for a: Sam Wilson, AoS Characters,          616 Characters, NAMOR
⏛ For plotting: send me a message! :)



do u think God ever gets sad like “what do u mean u don’t love urself i worked so hard on u….”

…why is this so uplifting

Reblog if you're willing to roleplay the following subjects:

Domestic Violence
Mental Issues
Violence in General

Drafts: 7

Starters: 1(?)

Updates: None


I’m pretty happy with the amount of drafts I’ve done so it’s time for me to throw myself further into the pits of homework.

Like for a starter~



He huffs shortly, shaking his head in disbelief.
     I’ll call you Jackson, he states and it’s
      nothing that sounds like it would be 
      arguable. Humans have names and
      names should be used to address
      them. His programming is telling
      him this.

Treading cautiously, he tries how much
weight he can put on his wounded leg 
before the pain becomes to overwhelming
to observe his surroundings properly. It’s
not as much as he likes to have but it’s
enough to get ahead.

     I’ll suture it myself, he snaps 
      immediately when hearing the
      offer. Just show me the way,

He keeps himself from rolling his eyes, and simply nods.
     ”Whatever ya want.” There was no point
      arguing with a man who was armed with
      a knife after all. Not to mention injured
      as well.

Jackson keeps his arms to his sides, just in
case the man fell over to his side or something
of the like. He would have offered his arm
for him to hold onto, but it seems like he wouldn’t  
take it.

       ”Alright, alright. Yeesh. A ‘thank you'
        would have been nice, y’know…” He
        takes a deep breath and gestures for
        the other to follow him. “Let’s get goin’
        then. Don’t want ya bleedin’ to death
        on me.”





*promotes so hard*

Without a word, Alyx stepped into the Hermes' cabin. It was still pretty rowdy seeing as the kids liked to stay up later then they were supposed to. She scanned the cabin for Jackson, eyebrows furrowed slightly.



Seeing how there was no point convincing the younger kids to go to sleep, Jackson had already climbed up to rest in his hammock way up high in the cabin. Despite being in the most crowded cabin in the entire camp, he had managed to find a place of solitude and quiet.

Tilting the book he was reading to the side, he spotted a head of blue hair and immediately knew who it was. :Alyx,” he called out, turning to his side to make himself more visible. “M’up here. I’ll come down in a second, okay?”

"Oh boy. Yeah, just try calling him that. Then I’d be Fish Princess. And I really don’t like that thought at all." She poked at his ribs while smiling. "It will probably take a whole lot more practice and errors for me, though. I really hope you’re right, though. It’s be great to pull something fun on my brother. Something he would find humor in, too, though." Alyx really cherished her brother, he’d been just as welcoming as Jackson when she first arrived at Camp.

"Mm, who knows? But you are the best prankster I know. And you’re good at stealing things. So I’d just go with Hermes and save yourself the speculation." Plus, who wanted to think about a parent that would go so far as to not claim them? "I want to hear more of your prank stories. Those never get old. Or maybe we could watch alive or something. I’m all caught up on Game of Thrones."

"Nah, you’d be a mermaid. At least, one of the nice ones." He encountered a few unkind ones during a quest some time ago, and he still wondered why they didn’t take too much of a liking to him. "Don’t ya worry, you’ll come up with somethin’ awesome someday and everybody will be super jealous of it.” Jackson waved his hand before them, adding a dramatic flair to his words but ended up laughing over it.

The young man simply shrugged and chuckled, “Well… I wouldn’t call it stealin’ really. More like a permanent loan. Depending on what it is.” The only times he has stolen anything was during those days where he was running from the monster that chased after him and if there was a camper that misbehaved. “I’ve been caught up for a while… Maybe we can look for somethin’ new to watch? I could use a fresh new show right now.”


Congrats on your face


   This was not how he wanted this day to go. This is not how he wanted anything to go. Tied tightly to a chair, with a bomb strapped to your chest. It was slowly counting down, every beep causing panic to flow through the Soldier’s veins. He tried to break free, especially with this metal arm of his.

   But these ropes seemed to be tied too tightly. Or maybe they were made of a strong material. Or maybe he was too tired from this mission… With a grunt, the Soldier tried to break free one more time, seeing that he was failing. So the Soldier thought he’d do something he’d never thought he’d ever do in his life.






   Sweat beads dripping down the side of his head, every tick sent fear through him. Hopefully someone was in this building-


   “      Help! Help me!”

      Go get the files, boy.
                         Don’t ask questions, kid.

          Really, he was getting quite tired of being referred to as a child so many times in the office. Sure, he was only nineteen (turning twenty near Christmastime) and his colleagues were a few decades older than him but that was not a reason to belittle him. Jackson grunted as he started to go down the stairs since the elevators were too stuffed up with bastards in too clean of suits and he in his cuffed up Converse and dusty street clothes.

              Hold on. What was that sound?

        His ears picked up the sound of a ticking sound when he reached a particular floor, and frowned. Is that normal? An alarm check? The young man was about to continue on his way when he heard a cry for help, almost missing step out of surprise.

        “Christ! What the—?” Jackson hustled to the door, finding it locked, and banged on the metal. “Hey! Is someone there?” He called out, fishing for his gun on his back holster. The one time he didn’t take anything useful for lock-picking…



he’s awake.  he swea      
no.  no, his head just 
landed on your lap.  
that ‘awake’ was a lie.

thank gods she was able
to get her laptop off before
his head landed on her lap.
she probably would have
murdered him if that happened.

the device was her little baby
cub and she was its mama.

"oi. get up."

TRACK NAME: Centuries/ Miss Jackson Mashup
ARTIST: Fall Out Boy & Panic! At the Disco

p s a that i love when people tag me in random starters!!