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#preserum
reebmiester · 11 months
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Human rights protest circa 1935
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jbb32557038t41t420 · 2 months
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"Wait - is that supposed to be me?"
Stevie is jack.ad.astra (insta)
Bucky is 32557038t41t420 (insta)
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kayvsdoodles · 8 days
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arcadianstorm · 2 months
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Steve got distracted by his muse ❤️ FULL NSFW-> A03 | Twitter | BlueSky | Pillowfort
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capibuck · 11 months
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Hey kids! Calm down.
Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and batterfield
...
Support me with a Ko fi 🧡☕
►I have commisions open!
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leehanji · 1 year
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😊
Patreon
NSFW
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murkycrush · 8 months
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Skinny Steve & Bucky~ I think I need to make more B&W pictures of them. 🖤 +Support me on Ko-fi | Commissions | Print Shop+
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rillils · 25 days
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There were times, back then, when Steve was sure he wasn’t going to pull through.
When the fever had consumed him for days, and the breath burned thick in the back of his throat, and Steve felt himself slip too close to the dark place that lived behind his eyelids, across the threshold of his consciousness.
Death, he thought: hovering like a loving mother at his side.
He could feel it, like a cold whisper gusting against his skin, chilling him with words of warning. Soon, it said; and Steve was too weak to do anything but lie there and listen.
He tried to tell Bucky once, drifting out of a delirious sleep.
“If… if death came tomorrow...”
“You’d punch him in the face,” Bucky shushed him softly, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. The healthy warmth of his hand felt nearly cool against the fevered heat of Steve’s skin, and Steve leaned blindly into the soothing touch, sighing his relief as Bucky’s knuckles stroked his cheek.
Bucky. The world seemed to be fading at the edges, like a sheet of paper burning from the outside in, curling ash-black and falling away piece by piece; but Bucky was still there.
Bucky was made of gentleness and sound, sweet like the sweet nothings he poured in Steve’s ear when Steve slept fitfully, swept into his feverish haze and lost to the world for hours on end.
Bucky was touch: an anchor. Bucky was color, familiar and dependable, like the blue of the sky, the yellow heart of daisies, the stain-black of charcoal.
Steve glimpsed the downturned corners of his mouth, his lovely lovely mouth, red like ripe apples. Steve had dreamed of kissing it once. Twice. Every other night.
Bucky’s cheeks were so pale. His eyes looked so tired, circled by the bruise-like purple of his skin.
He hadn’t been sleeping, Steve knew. Steve had been sleeping, though – he’d stolen Bucky’s share of it while his body burned up from the inside.
“Buck,” Steve rasped, his voice thin and crusty, like plaster peeling off the wall. “If... if I go...”
Bucky shook his head, one curl coming loose from the once careful sweep of his hair. His pretty lips quirked up, a slip of a smile found so easily like he’d rehearsed it a dozen times before.
“Nah. You’re not going anywhere,” he said, collecting Steve’s hand to cradle it in both of his.
Steve’s head lolled sleepily on his pillow, lured by the sound of Bucky’s trembling voice.
“Buck.”
“Shh. You’re staying right here, where I– where I can keep an eye on ya.”
Silence spilled in the room, just for a moment – the space of a sniffle, of a soft, shivery exhale.
“Gotta make sure you don’t get into trouble, don’t I?”
One of Bucky’s hands left him briefly, and when it enveloped him again, there was a wetness there; one little drop trickling from the bridge of his finger, to land cool on Steve’s skin.
“Just. Just like I promised.”
And Steve knew then.
If Death did come; if it seized his wrist with its bone-thin fingers and bade him to follow, Now, child, it is time, Steve would say: No. He’s not ready.
He would think of the apple-red mouth he had never kissed yet, save for in his dreams; of the love he hadn’t quite begun to shape into words. He’d think of the life he’d only just caught a glimpse of, stretched far on the road ahead of him, twined with Bucky’s own as they reached into the future, together. Simply. Always.
No, Steve would tell Death. He’s not ready.
And neither am I.
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longing
𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘰/𝘰𝘪𝘭 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩
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cinnamoncascadian · 4 months
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Steven "Fight me" Rogers
Posted with @lokewolf82's permission from:
https://x.com/little_wolf82/status/1638607805832626176?s=20
2023-03-22
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steveybucky · 1 month
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I relate to Bucky because I too would fight anyone who dared insult preserum Steve rogers
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reebmiester · 1 year
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Steve and the Barnes family
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jbb32557038t41t420 · 2 months
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Stevie is jack.ad.astra (insta)
Bucky is 32557038t41t420
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Thinking about what might have happened if Steve never got the serum and wasn't in Italy when he heard of Bucky's capture.
In Brooklyn, November 1943, Steve gets a letter saying Bucky is MIA. That's not dead and his heart clings to that faint glimmer of hope. Not dead, just missing. Bucky's a fighter. The army will find him and eventually he'll come home.
But then Steve reads about how the 107th were captured and that the army is refusing to mount a rescue. Steve would never let an injustice like stand, serum or no. Especially not if there's a chance Bucky is still alive.
He starts making a racket, Bucky's friends and coworkers in their neighbourhood support Steve's efforts and the racket gets heard. He gets arrested for it, but a Cop friend of Bucky's (who used to box at Bucky's gym), let's Steve go without charge; he thinks it's an injustice too.
Steve remembers the Stark Expo and Stark's grand technology claims, and somehow gets himself in front of Stark; making enough noise and showing enough tenacity that Stark is impressed (and amused).
Stark is always looking for an excuse to show the army how superior his tech is, so sure he'll help this guy mount a rescue mission, just think of the press if they succeed! And no one ever needs to know he was involved if it fails.
So Steve, 5 foot something, with asthma and a whole host of other ailments, who the army declared 4F on 4 different occasions, drops into Kreischberg. He manages to sneak through the compound unnoticed and liberates the POWs and (most importantly to Steve) rescues Bucky.
Schmidt isn't aware Steve's there, or who he is, so the compound isn't blown up—not until the POWs set it ablaze on their way out and Schmidt has no time to escape. He and Zola are killed by the explosions of their own bombs.
Steve and Bucky make it back to the US camp. Bucky's injuries and the torture he endured give him the excuse he needs to be discharged and returned home.
Steve isn't military in the first place, so he can't be court martialed. Besides, the press is loving the rescue so instead, Steve's role is hushed up and Stark gets the credit, but Steve doesn't care.
He and Bucky slip back to Brooklyn where they both enjoy a hero's welcome from their neighbours and live out their days in peace.
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capibuck · 6 months
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I found my home here, with you.
I have COMMISSIONS OPEN if you're interested 🧡
Support my art on Ko fi ☕
Part 1
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leehanji · 1 year
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This is a weekly occurrence.
Patreon
NSFW
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