//so guess who finally remembered their login for this account!?? is anyone still around??? come at meeeeee with angsty shit or memes or w/e! <3
YOU ARE THE REASON

Janaina Medeiros

@theartofmadeline
Today's Document
KIROKAZE
tumblr dot com

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styofa doing anything
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
NASA
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Cosmic Funnies
Monterey Bay Aquarium
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Sade Olutola
Claire Keane

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seen from United Kingdom

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@brokenxsoldier
//so guess who finally remembered their login for this account!?? is anyone still around??? come at meeeeee with angsty shit or memes or w/e! <3
NO MO NO NO NO NO FUCJ FUCK WHO DID TGIS NO MUY HEART IM DYING IM FUCK FUCJ FUJVK MY HEART HURTS NO SATAN WHYD YOU DO THID YO ME
//so guess who finally remembered their login for this account!?? is anyone still around??? come at meeeeee with angsty shit or memes or w/e! <3
Drizzly Streets
captain-outoftime
Steve reaches forward to run his fingers along the silver palm. He can hear the hum of gears moving under it, torn between fascination and horror. It’s better than Bucky coming home without an arm at all, by a lot. He’s got to think of it that way instead. It’s a shock. But it’s good. Steve decides it’s a gift, that even though he lost an arm, Bucky still has two. “It’s…wow,” he murmurs.
“Who’s they?” he asks. “Who took it? The- snow? Bucky, what happened?” He feels bad for bombarding him with all these questions, but he’s just got his best friend back from the dead, it’s all a lot to take in and it’s the middle of the night and he’s still fighting off a little cold and he’s confused.
What do you mean you know this place, this is our home. This is where we live, this is where you left me when you went to war. He can see that Bucky’s distressed by all the chunks of memory he’s missing, but it’s hard for Steve to get around the fact that Bucky forgot him. Didn’t die, not physically. Just forgot…everything.
Including his best friend. Steve can’t put words to the fresh pain in his heart. He ought to be so thankful, and all he can feel is pain.
Steve forces himself to swallow past the tightness in his throat. “You look so different,” he mumbles, the words falling out of his mouth. He stands quietly for a few minutes, hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of his overlarge shirt. Is that blood? Is it yours or…not? What have they been doing to you? Why don’t you know me, why don’t you know me?
“When’s the last time you ate somethin’?” he asks instead of the questions that come to mind.
Despite his initial instinct to pull away, the Soldier allows Steve to run a hand along his metal one. The touch, although somewhat dulled through the artificial sensors, is warm and gentle, caring, almost fond. Steve’s quiet remark causes a shadow of a smile to tug at the corner of the Asset’s lips — Steve’s impressed. It’s a pleasant feeling, being looked upon with amazement, as opposed to abject horror.
The Soldier’s eyes narrow slightly at the flurry of questions that follow — the small blonde seems to know so much about him, yet simultaneously so little. Taking a breath, a momentary pause, the Asset begins explaining, “HYDRA. I fell — I think — I can’t remember what happened, but I ended up in the snow, looking up at the sky. Something must have happened to my arm on the way down — it was bleeding, half of it missing, before they found me. They took what was left. I don’t know why. Cleaner that way, perhaps.” The Soldier pauses, jaw tightens a touch, “They — They saved me…” It’s spoken as though its been drilled into him, taught.
The Asset observes closely as Steve’s eyes rake over his countenance — it makes him feel a little conscious, being stared at. It ignites an anxiety placed there by close observation at HYDRA, aggressive commands spat into his face, the sharp slaps that would follow when he didn’t fulfil their criteria. Eyes drop, and an uncomfortable heat crawls up his neck, until Steve speaks again, poses another question.
“I — don’t know.” He can’t remember. Eating was something he frequently forgot to partake in, unless commanded by his superiors. He hazards a guess, cold eyes refocusing on Steve. “A few days ago.”
“For the two of us, home isn’t a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.” – Stephanie Perkins
Coulson’s got competition.
Here’s the Original Comic, redrawn with permission.
Please do not repost or delete this caption.
“…Steve?”
(comic speed paint)
(please do not use or repost without my permission)
2015. graphite, watercolor, acrylic, ink, colored pencil & white gel pen on 9x12″ hot press watercolor paper.
steve wants his bucky (steves thoughts pt 1)
“Cap rescues Bucky” by Jessie Lucid
something in b e t w e e n
Winter Soldier AU: The Commander and The Winter Soldier
After finding Bucky Barnes, HYDRA tracks down Captain America through a locator hidden on the aircraft. Both are wiped and utilized as assets. It is soon discovered that if the two are in the company of each other, they do not fight to remember their pasts. The Winter Soldier and the Commander work together. There is a natural comradeship between them, though neither know why. Together, they are unstoppable. However, the serum adapts. The Commander and the Winter Soldier are sent out to complete a simple contract: Kill Tony Stark. But the mission’s face is so similar to a shadow of the past. They fail the objective. The Commander and the Winter Soldier are haunted by the memories of another life, still brothers in arms, always, but fighting for a different side. HYDRA is not what it claims to be. The Commander begs his comrade to escape with him and inexplicably says, “I’ll be with you, ‘til the end of the line.” He does not know what it means, but he knows it means something. But the Winter Soldier refuses, and tries to ignore the nausea that thrums through his veins as he watches the man he has followed through infinite lifetimes disappear into the darkness of the night without him. A new contract arrives. The Commander has been compromised. And the Winter Soldier must take him out.
Happy Valentines Day, everyone! (๑♡3♡๑)
Please allow me to share with you the fluffy Stucky feels I am currently drowning in (づ ̄ ³ ̄)づ
fluff for you @tinzelda
another one from the stream.Sad Bucky for @onemagpie and all others who wanted to see him.
Two Soldiers. A Homecoming. A Promise.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Drizzly Streets
captain-outoftime
Steve nods. He scrapes his sleeve roughly across his face to clear the wetness off his cheeks. “They sent me a letter. The Army. They-” he swallows, reddened eyes searching Bucky’s for even a scrap of recognition, a sliver of remembrance. “They told me you died in action, and they- they couldn’t get your body back, we buried an empty- we had a funeral, Bucky.”
Bucky’s eyes are tortured but distant. As he gasps, Steve jumps a little. “Buck?” When his eyes find Steve’s again, they’re almost angry. Steve can’t help but be a little intimidated, but not scared. This is Bucky, here. Bucky, miraculously returned from the dead. Steve shouldn’t be standing here in shock, he ought to be jumping for joy.
Well. Not quite. Bucky’s body had come back. Bucky’s mind seemed to be left somewhere on a battlefield, along with his left arm. “What happened to your arm?” he asked, one hand reaching out to touch it. Steve stopped short and pulled his arm back, hesitant.
I don’t remember anything.
“Your name is James Buchanan Barnes. You’re my best friend,” he said quietly. “My name is Steve Rogers. You’ve known me since we were kids,” Steve said, practically begging to pull those memories back. “You…you always used to slick your hair back. And you- you made me go on the Cyclone at Coney Island. You live here with me. It’s shitty but, I mean- it’s ours. It was.”
He flicks a light on and tries not to gasp. Bucky looks worse than he’d been thinking. He’s weathered and worn, filthy, and covered in either dirt or blood. His hair hangs long and haggard around his cheeks.
At Steve’s question, the Soldier’s eyes fall to the metal appendage at his left side.
“I—“
He remembers. He remembers the pain, the ruptured nerve endings left behind as white-coated men cut back flesh and bone. He remembers fluttering in and out of consciousness as they affixed crude prosthetics one after the other, testing and maintaining. He remembers the sudden and remarkable strength, how easy it felt to crush the throats of the men around him… And he remembers how he’d spent the next 24 hours desperately attempting to tear it off.
“— They took it…” The Asset can still recall the crippling cold, the thick snow settling over his body, the blood pooling out around him, “What was left of it — after — after I was in the snow, the cold — they cut it back, gave me… this.” He extends the arm a little, flexing his fingers. It hums gently.
There it is again. Steve, recalling handfuls of memories that the Soldier has no knowledge of — it makes his gut twist and lurch uncomfortably, the feeling of forgetting something he’s not supposed to.
“I don’t remember — I just…” But he trails off as Steve finally illuminates the apartment.
Shabby walls, old furniture, things patched up a hundred times over. Creaky floorboards, small rooms, it’s — familiar. It takes the breath out of him, forces his brow into a tight frown.
“I know this place — —“
When his eyes wander back to Steve, theres an undoubtable look of shock on the small blonde’s face. Following his eyes, his expression, the Asset turns a fraction, as if anticipating an incoming threat, “What is it—?” He hadn’t considered that Steve’s reaction, was to him.