MOVED TO @sxrgeant
MCU based
Multi verse/fandom - low/medium activity
CARRD - ASK - STARTERS - PROMPTS - PROMO
Multi Muse(on hiatus): @ncvelty
usfw sideblog (mutuals only): @heysxrge
©
EST. 2/22

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Today's Document
styofa doing anything

⁂
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
sheepfilms
Show & Tell
Keni
Acquired Stardust
Sade Olutola

Product Placement
trying on a metaphor
d e v o n
Peter Solarz

Andulka

blake kathryn
tumblr dot com

shark vs the universe
KIROKAZE

seen from United Kingdom
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany
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seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
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seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia

seen from Japan
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seen from France
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@sxrgeantbarnes
MOVED TO @sxrgeant
MCU based
Multi verse/fandom - low/medium activity
CARRD - ASK - STARTERS - PROMPTS - PROMO
Multi Muse(on hiatus): @ncvelty
usfw sideblog (mutuals only): @heysxrge
©
EST. 2/22
Hey all, it’s time to archive this account! My new account is live and can be followed over at @sxrgeant! If there is a thread or plot we have that you’d really like to continue, please feel free to message me I am completely fine with that! If we’ve built any sort of relationship between our characters, I’ll probably continue along those lines, but if you’d like to start fresh just shoot me a message!
Hey all, it’s time to archive this account! My new account is live and can be followed over at @sxrgeant! If there is a thread or plot we have that you’d really like to continue, please feel free to message me I am completely fine with that! If we’ve built any sort of relationship between our characters, I’ll probably continue along those lines, but if you’d like to start fresh just shoot me a message!
❝ It Means A Part Of Me Is Still There. ❞
Independent & Selective James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes est. 2/22 ◦ revamped 1/25 (previously sxrgeantbarnes) carrd • ask
© ©
Hey all, it’s time to archive this account! My new account is live and can be followed over at @sxrgeant! If there is a thread or plot we have that you’d really like to continue, please feel free to message me I am completely fine with that! If we’ve built any sort of relationship between our characters, I’ll probably continue along those lines, but if you’d like to start fresh just shoot me a message!
/ I’m currently working on revamping to start fresh! I’ll update when the blog is done🫡 thank you to everyone who’s reached out you’re stuck with me<3
ahem.
hello….
I was going to write more today but it’s so beautiful out rn so I’m doing some light reading
--- the sight and sounds of his phone ringing actually surprised dean. he'd just been texting bucky so he didn't really expect a phone call. people hardly called these days anyway and that was just fine by dean. "hey m--" before he could even finish getting the words out he's bulldozed over and dean breaks out into a burst of laughter. that explained it.
"oh what so what you think you and your buddies are the only ones who get to have crazy shit happen to them?" he can't help but laugh again. honestly, it feels kind of good to laugh about it. more often than not talking about his deaths could be hard but dean was trying to process them the best he could.
"it's as insane as it sounds," he admitted as a warning but the humor was still in his voice. "you might of heard of this before, it's a pretty old legend. ever hear of the guy who sold his soul at the cross roads to the devil to play guitar? well they kind of got it wrong. it wasn't the devil it was a demon. i made a deal to save my brother. long story short i took a four month dirt nap and i woke up underground. luckily my brother was good enough to bury me with my lighter so at least i could see, but i still had to bust my way out of a pine box and crawl through the dirt. total zombie style. higher power decided i wasn't done here so he stuffed my soul back in my body and...well here i am."
as crazy as that sounded dean still didn't even go into the craziest parts. about his time spent in hell. about how he was there for 40 years. he figured that was enough for one conversation. he knew bucky's life was crazy and he had his own insane stories to tell but still, dean didn't want to overwhelm the man.
When he stumbled upon the fact that ghosts were real, it was because he stumbled upon Dean fighting one. So maybe it shouldn’t surprise him to hear the man tell him that demons were an actual thing as well. Look, Bucky has met some downright evil people in his life, an evil little man made the version of the serum that’s coursing through his veins right now— but demons?
“Okay.” Obviously an insufficient response. Give him a second, he’s processing.
Dean was dead and then, what, god has actually been real this whole time and decided to just resurrect him? Bucky's catholic upbringing wants to believe it, but he's been around too long to think there's any higher power so calls bull. Not that he doesn’t believe Dean was dead, somehow he just does. However he came back, well it…gives Bucky a headache just to think about. He's felt like he died before, considers the day he fell off that train his death, because everything in him died afterwards. This was different.
He furrows his brow, even if Dean can’t see, stares at the wall in front of him and wonders if it’s worth it to ask more questions. Maybe not over the goddamn phone, he can have a little more respect for Dean’s dearly departed past than that. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re weirdly fascinating?” He deadpans.
thinking about how absolutely obnoxious bucky is when he’s bored. the most annoying and also dangerous person you know is a bored bucky barnes.
@sxrgeantbarnes sent: [ GUEST ]: The sender welcomes the receiver into their home with open arms and two strong mugs of tea. // ( accepting ! )
What a sight for sore eyes he is after the last two weeks she's had. Dangerous, isolating, but worst of all it had been FREEZING. So bone-chilling that even though Jess was now long away from arctic-like temperatures, it's as though she can still feel it stabbing through her.
So, not only is she excited to see Bucky after the time away, but the WARMTH of the beverage he offers is the cherry on top. She frees herself of her gloves, stuffing them into the bag draped across her body. Hands wrap around the mug, greedily absorbing its heat into her palms with a content little exhale.
❝ Aaaaahhhh, ❞ taking a sip, happy eyes close as the tea works to warm her up. Tastes delicious to boot. It's then that she practically falls into his arms, though mindful enough not to spill his or her PRECIOUS CARGO. ❝ You got no idea how much I needed this. ❞ Another few quick and tiny sips. ❝ What have things been like here ? How have you been ? ❞ A hand leaves just long enough to poke Bucky's cheek before returning to the cup.
He worries, he always worries, even when he realistically doesn't have to. He’s worked with her plenty, seen how very capable she is at both getting the job done and returning back with a working pulse. Maybe that's the problem– they’ve been a team too many times that not having eyes on her while she’s on a mission puts him on edge.
It’s probably because of his other thing, too. His too attached thing.
Regardless of the cause of his worry, it’s been there, and he’s mentally and physically relieved to see her eyes again. “I had a bit of an idea.” He smiles, taking a sip from his own cup. Cold following you? He can empathize. She’s warm even if she doesn’t feel it, and he wraps an arm around her to give some of his own body heat.
“Been quiet here, for once. It was nice for a few days. Got a little suspicious after that, but I’m trying to enjoy it while it lasts anyway.” He leans his head on top of hers while he leads them to plop on the couch. Because he can, he missed her– whatever. “Kinda lonely with no one yapping in my ear. Including you.”
All of a sudden he’s radio-peppy, a snipped balloon over the detached big picture. Yeah.
❛Y’gotta eat, Buck.❜
He grates to his own ears.
He doesn’t have it in him to waste even a tenth of the recommended twenty minutes of water, least of all on himself. He elbows it off. The pink’s already old. Whatever way he looks at it, even if he doesn’t want to from a mile off, injuries have come to be about the memory of the sensation.
And how long of a slowdown they manage on him before he hits back.
He tears off the foil all wrong. Sauce whips across the counter. What’s the point of heat-sealing shit you’re going to be eating within a day? --That even safe?
He pops the plate shelf gaping open. With a nasty feeling spreading, he starts serving half and half. One for Bucky, one for himself.
There’s a curling low in his gut that’s locked tight— he doesn’t think he could eat even if he wanted to.
He sees a diversion when it’s in front of him. Look who you’re talking to, he’s a big fan of those. Not so much when they’re used against him, which is what he can only guess Steve is doing— who gives a fuck about the food.
He only assumes, though. Because he doesn’t know Steve like he used to, can’t dig into his brain with all the enthusiasm of some pup jumping up to greet its owner. How was your day? What did you do? Why do you smell like others?
Not gonna eat until you play ball with me.
He could throw the plate against the wall to make a point but he’s afraid Steve will do what he’s been doing this whole time and clean up Bucky’s mess for him. He pushes his portion back towards Steve instead.
“You go ahead. I'll wait.”
okay hello I’m actually here lfg
Fuck you, he almost springs, and knows it’d be read as an overreaction.
But that’s what he’s feeling. The more the issue is pressed, the harder he’ll clam up. Why would Bucky even—
Steve’s chest colds around the can, but he just leaves it.
The microwave bird-trills, a bout of three. The door is browned over, and he feels disgusting for the slobbiness and takes out the insides too soon.
And burns himself.
It doesn’t matter that he does. Still, outta habit, all of which keep him right in the head, he runs the tap to a waterfall and sticks the root of his palm under. He doesn’t look up.
❛You hungry?❜
He can’t tell if his jaw or his gut tightens first but they both go tight enough to ache. It’s not as grounding of a sensation— almost grounding— as the cold can still left in his hand, condensation starting to drip from his fingers. The wetness following the curve of his fingers isn’t warm like blood, he's awake.
He’s so far away from being on the same page as Steve, he’s in a whole different library. You hungry? has lifted him up many a time, pushed him towards Steve, tail wagging.
And yet. “No. Steve. I’m not hungry.”
He eyes the sink, hands even now itching to hold Steve’s wrist— to make sure he doesn’t pull away too soon, to make an excuse to just fucking touch because that’s apparently wired in his bones.
One hand is cold and metal, the other is cold from metal. He thinks if he touches right now they’d make steam.
“I'm really, really not hungry.”
Realistically, she knew talking him out of this was a lost cause. One thing she knows about the people she works with? They're stubborn. They don't go down without a fight. And they won't let go of something once they've set their mind to it. Bucky is no exception to that ideology.
So she planned ahead a little. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? At least then she can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't get himself into too much trouble. As long as he's intending to be true to his word, that is.
She watches him with a careful eye as he leans against the wall. She likes to believe she can see through him to a degree, but even she has difficulty telling when he's lying from time to time.
"Are you gonna wait around long enough for me to grab my stuff?" She does her best to keep her tone void of feeling as her arms cross over her chest and she fixes him with an unimpressed look.
If she were a civilian, he might not feel like he’s playing with a bit of fire here. Blatantly stating that he’s going somewhere, and not-so-subtly hinting at the fact that it’s something he shouldn’t be doing, something she should call in. A civilian wouldn’t know where to start. The police, maybe, but that’d be laughable. He’d be gone before they realized they were out of their depth. She, on the other hand, may be able to stop him herself. Shield agents. Bold and trained. He’s got no idea the weaponry they’ve got, but he doesn’t doubt there’s something crafted specifically to stop any of the team, if needed. Or maybe just him, if he can make an assumption from the ever looming mistrust most seem to harbor.
His own trust in her may be misplaced, he can’t know yet. But he trusts regardless. “‘Course I will.”
He’s already been caught— it’s his best chance out of here without setting off an alarm, if she joins. In the back of his mind, in a place he refuses to venture into, he doesn’t think he’d mind her company. Would have crafted some other plan to get away, if it were anyone else. “Pack for a bit of a road trip. Just a few days.”
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 steve that it isn't a concern for him, and the captain's brows draw together as he notes the edge in other's tone but he doesn't call it out. he's too afraid of what kind of answer might be awaiting him if he were to. as it is, steve's entire being goes into staying focused with such a distracting presence always at his side. he wouldn't have it any other way, and has no one to blame but himself, but it still hurts. he feels distinctly like he's ruining both his and bucky's life with this stubborn pursuit of -- what, exactly ? when steve has tried thinking about it, which doesn't happen often in itself, he finds himself at a loss for exactly what he's trying to achieve at this point. mission is all muddled with emotion and rightly so: steve's given up his best friend in the name of this cause, but is it really what he ought to be doing, what he ought to be pursuing ?
the soldier snaps the captain out of his reverie with his invitation to spar. it only takes a moment of hesitation before decision comes, as certain as he can muster. ❝ of course, soldier. ❞ a welcome physical distraction to the mess inside his mind, steve thinks as he steps into place and readies himself for soldier's approach. gaze hones in on other man, noting his stance and the expression on features as they grow nearer. it happens quickly: one second the room around them is calm, and relatively quiet with the grunts of others training. then the alarm starts to blare over speakers in gym, lights powering down seconds later. they must be under attack somehow, steve thinks as he straightens, cursing under breath at the way they're all in training clothes and not in proper armor. ❝ damn it. soldier, with me. the rest of you -- head to the armory for your weapons, and meet us in the lobby. be careful, ❞ and the others are off as the captain turns back to the soldier. ❝ we need to pay a visit to whoever's doing this. ❞
It’s not a simple invitation— there’s an uncomfortable feeling inside his chest when Steve agrees, warning bells blaring at being deceptive in his objectives, and that is unacceptable. Not that he thinks that the captain realizes. His hidden agenda is just that— hidden. He means to watch, to take note of every reaction. His captain should not be distracted, but will he be— if they actually touch will he lose focus and think of someone who once occupied this body? Who still does, and is the reason he still feels a distant underlying current when sparring with Steve.
He shouldn’t be testing anyone of higher rank. He intends to anyway. Sets his feet and—
His back goes ramrod straight at the sound of the alarm, ready for instruction. Adrenaline rushes through him— a fight is coming. He knows this is not a drill. His eyes dart to the pistol he’d been using for target practice, but the clip is empty, it’s useless. The team he still doesn't trust for backup scrambles away for adequate weaponry, he’s only left with the knife he keeps concealed on his body at all times.
“They’ll be waiting for us.” It may very well be the whole point. At the apex of the entire organization is Steve Rogers, no one would attack unaware of that fact. Senses on high alert, The soldier gives one last look to his captain before turning to lead the way, his own body in front to guard the one behind.
@therebetterbepie | continued from x
Lately, whenever he tells himself he won’t bother asking questions— he does. Character growth, or whatever. It’s a hell of a lot better than his old staunch silence in the name of minding his own business and trying to avoid anyone poking into his in response. At least, he thinks it’s better. Sounds like something his old therapist would like, anyway. Asking questions because he’s curious, not just to interrogate some assumed criminal.
And he was really damn curious about the whole ‘dug myself out of my own grave’ thing. He blinks at the text long enough that his phone screen goes dim, and then blackens completely. With a shake of his head, he unlocks it just to immediately press the call button.
Manners would be nice, but he interrupts the voice on the other end before they can get a greeting in, “The hell does that mean?”