the-steve-bucky-ship:

So, let’s face it, in 9/10 pre-war Steve/Bucky fics winters in the 1930’s meant one thing: Bucky pulling Steve into bed and wrapping himself around him to keep him warm, cuddling him to his chest. 

Even if Steve might have been a stubborn mule and refused to ask for Bucky to hold him through the war (because he didn’t need the heat any more after the serum) he probably missed sleeping in that position a lot. 

After finding Bucky again, I doubt he can keep up the stubborn when it comes to this though ;). 

wintergaydar:

I really need to read or write the canon-divergent story where Steve realizes that the Winter Soldier is a victim before he realizes that the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes. Steve sees an equal — another super-soldier — and understands that he’s never had the choices Steve got; where so many of Steve’s friends think it’s crazy, but Steve decides to save him, anyway. 

(And the Winter Soldier wants to trust this man — this target — who’s offering help, and kindness, even though he has got no idea why).

It’s reckless, and borderline suicidal, but Steve does it — Steve finds a way to offer the Winter Soldier a way out from HYDRA, to give him protection, Steve defends him from everyone who says that he is a monster — without having ever even seen his face. 

Because Steve Rogers sees the best in everyone, and I want the AU where it is that quality that brings him back the person he loves most in the world. The AU where Steve takes the muzzle-mask off the Winter Soldier’s face the first time that the Winter Soldier lets him come close enough, and finds Bucky Barnes.

faun-songs:

dietraumerei:

faun-songs:

some days i just wanna make people sad

“He was a baby once.  He must have been sweet and clean and his mother kissed his little pink toes. Maybe when it thundered at night she came to his crib and fixed his blanket better and whispered that he mustn’t be afraid, that mother was there. Then she picked him up and put her cheek on his head and said that he was her own sweet baby. He might have been a boy like my brother, running in and out of the house and slamming the door. And while his mother scolded him she was thinking that maybe he’ll be president some day. Then he was a young man, strong and happy. When he walked down the street, the girls smiled and turned to watch him. He smiled back and maybe he winked at the prettiest one. […] [T]hey are waiting for him to die. But he don’t want to die. He wants to keep on living even though he’s so old and there’s nothing to be happy about anymore.”

– from A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

is this some form of war declaration??