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#I like the howlies more
vivelarevolution13 · 2 months
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the way I would kill for an M-rated howling commandos oneshot. she could’ve saved the mcu and this is 100% the hill I will die on
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imperialstark · 2 years
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since i'm sharing my mcu thoughts tonight, i always wished ca:tfa was more stylized. like, can you imagine if it had been shot in black and white? or shot like a documentary with different characters narrating steve's life? the black and white giving way to color the second steve realizes he's in 2011.
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luna-rainbow · 1 year
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I do think about this whole sequence more frequently than what's good for me.
After the adrenaline has faded from trying to run from a burning factory, inevitably Bucky would learn of three facts:
Steve is the entirety of the rescue party
Steve disobeyed orders to rescue them
Steve isn't ready to leave the war
If Bucky (and the Howlies) weren't yet burned out by the war, I wonder if that was the moment Bucky became completely disillusioned and also deeply conflicted. In the bowels of the Hydra facility, no doubt one of the things that's kept prisoners going was the hope that their allies would come rescue them. That's part of the reason why Bucky was still doggedly repeating his number after days of torture.
But their allies had no plans to rescue them. They were meaningless numbers lost in the service of their country. The one person who did come was the person Bucky never wanted to see in the midst of war, and - while he wasn't surprised Steve chose to come - they had refused to give Steve any help for the mission. There were many ways Steve could have died on the way to Bucky's cell. There were many ways Steve could have had a fate worse than death, and Bucky already knows of fates worse than death.
Was Bucky angry or indignant? You can see the way he's tensing as Steve gets ready to face Phillips, and the steadying pat Steve has to give Bucky.
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In that context, Bucky's shout isn't just a spur of the moment cheer. It legitimises Steve and his role as Captain America in a single moment. Steve, who the soldiers had mocked and Phillips had dismissed, had proven his worth with the prisoners he led back, and Bucky uses that moment to cement that change in opinion.
Steve is big and tough now, and his fights are bigger and tougher, and Bucky can no longer win Steve's battles for him. All Bucky can do is to ensure that Steve's words won't be ignored again by the likes of Phillips by making all the soldiers acknowledge him, that Steve would always have a trustworthy team behind him for his next mission by helping to recruit the Howlies, and that...as much as he tired of the war, he would be there for Steve. He'd lead the cheer for Captain America, but the one he's following is always Steve.
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beenoeila · 24 days
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A list of underrated fics I adore.
▪️this don’t feel anything like sinking by
@dontcallmebree
A little over six weeks and his knee heals only for his breathing to act up. It may have been a handful of decades—coming up on a century, even—but he never did forget how it felt to wheeze through the night.
Steve sees it coming when Dr. Youssef tells him his lungs are taking a turn.
The year 2032 brings about the Summer Olympics, the coldest winter of the decade, and an end to Project Rebirth.
🔹 Learning to want by @luna-rainbow
Bucky is still trying to piece together his memories, but at least he now had Steve with him.
When Steve asks him if he wanted to meet with his sister, Becca, his response was, "I don't know about wants...I'll start with the shoulds."
Steve and Bucky goes for lunch with Becca. Steve and Bucky dealing with memory loss. Steve and Bucky being mutually pining idiots.
▪️better to speak or die by emilywithoutY (@between-a-ship-and-a-hard-place)
Summers in C. are as endless and hazy as when they were kids. All James wants is to play his part well enough that his mother stops looking at him with that twist of regret in her smile.
The only thing to break the sun-soaked monotony is the arrival of the new summer intern. While the rest of the household—and half the village—fawn over Steve Roger’s movie star looks and understated charm, James finds him aloof and his polite interest near unbearable.
But as they collide in vulnerable moments, the sparks of frustration ignite something neither has the power to stop.
Do you think Jonathan understood what happened that day David first stepped into his father’s court?
🔹The weapon remembers by pushdragon
The Winter Soldier finds old fantasies of Steve in his memory, and takes them for reality.
He's got two days to sort out all his mixed-up history, before he puts himself back in cryo freeze. Harder still, he's got to convince Steve to let him do it.
▪️Preberseeschießen by Ginny_Potter (@hipsterdiva)
Bucky takes his time, ignoring his comrades’ cheering and Gaiswinkler and Mariandl’s teasing. From his position, Steve only has an oblique view of Bucky’s face, which is mostly in the dark anyway – the strong line of his jaw, a smudge of grease on his cheekbone, a sweaty lock of hair curling on his forehead, his mouth pouting in concentration. Steve itches to draw him, to take out his battered sketchbook and reproduce that instant of perfect imperfection. Steve itches to touch him, push back his unruly curls, wipe away the smudge on his cheekbone, cup his face in his hands and…
Bucky breathes out and shoots. The bullet hits water… and there it is, the zapping sound of paper tearing.
The light turns on and off three times. Third circle. Just a lick out of bullseye.
The Howlies explode in cheers.
Or, the Howling Commandos play a shooting game with the Austrian Resistance and Steve has lots of unresolved feelings about himself, his new body, and his changing relationship with Bucky. In other words, comrades are comrades, angst looms, and Steve feels.
🔹Till there were no more wolves in the West
by @dharmasharks
“I’m afraid of a lot of things, Steve,” Bucky says softly.
“But this thing sticking in my heart—the part of me that’s yours? It is the best part of me. Maybe the only good part.” His rueful smile wavers. He makes a pained expression.
“What if it’s the only good part?” he asks.
Two Brooklyn boys find themselves aboard an orphan train headed west in 1854. Across farmland, war, and the lawless frontier, a childhood promise helps them find each other again.
(A Western SteveBucky retelling.)
▪️Hiraeth by ixalit
Hiraeth
noun /ˈhɪraɨ̯θ/
[Welsh] A homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that never was.
🔹Undone by justanotherStonyfan
You’d think, given everything, that if one of them were going to regress, that if one of them were going to break down, it would be Bucky.
(Set mostly after Endgame - canon deaths remain but Steve doesn't leave)
▪️But You Can Hold Me (Only 'Cause It's a Cold Night in Brooklyn) by Voylitscope_speed (@voylitscope)
This should just be two friends getting off after the burlesque show. This should just be two pals both thinking about the girl. That would probably be okay, Bucky thinks.
But then he ruins it all when he says,
"Come here," and puts a hand out to tug on Steve's shoulder.
(Or: Sometimes, Bucky and Steve lend each other a hand, literally. Bucky tries not to be weird about it, but he's always been bad at controlling his thoughts about Steve.)
🔹Midlife Crisis by profoundalpacakitten
Steve isn’t expecting much of anything from life, he’s content to coast by, letting life flow past. Get up, get dressed, get to work, get home, get to sleep, rinse and repeat.
▪️ The Magic Touch by @broodybuck
The soldier is finally free but he has one big problem, he can't finish. Until he meets a man called Steve who apparently has the magic touch.
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booksandabeer · 2 months
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Steve-Centric Stucky Fics: 5 Recs + 1 TBR
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As promised, here is the rec list for Steve/Bucky fics with a focus on Steve-centric stories—all of them not EG-compliant, as requested. It's not quite as long as my usual rec lists for two reasons:
(1) I'm still sick and I can barely sit up straight, so please forgive the brevity of the list, and
(2) I deliberately wanted to include exclusively fics that were written in 2022 and 2023 to shine a spotlight on a few of the many wonderful writers and artists who are still creating absolutely fantastic works for the Stucky ship and who deserve to be read just as widely and passionately as older works in the fandom. Recency bias, but make it positive!
So without further ado, here are five Steve-centric Stucky recs and one more fic that I can't wait to get to:
1. say it soft and it's almost like praying by Somanywords | 41K, M
Author's summary: Natasha says, “Look, whatever the truth is about you, we have no way of really knowing the Winter Soldier's intentions. He’s not all there, he’s not who you remember. He’s a hot mess, Steve.”
“Why does everyone think that?” Steve says, and he’s nearly yelling, but not quite, because he doesn’t need to, not when they’re so close. “Why does everyone keep saying he’s a mess—have you seen me?" 
Post-CA:TWS canon divergent. I literally finished this fic about 15 minutes ago, so I haven't even left a comment yet. I'm still processing, you could say. The author tagged this with "just another post catws fic (but by me)"—and yes, that's what you get. All the usual ingredients are here, but the joy of TWS canon divergence is of course in the endless possibilities of how these well-known ingredients are used, re-arranged, and re-imagined as something new, exciting, and often much more satisfying than in canon. This fic excels at all three and is an absolute joy from start to finish.
2. Daybreak by BonkyBornes, art by PottersPink | 9K, NR
Author's summary: They called it project Rebirth because the person was supposed to be reborn, like a phoenix from the ashes. Steve was supposed to be the phoenix. He was supposed to rise from the ashes of his old body, he was supposed to leave behind his deafness and his limp and the scoliosis that bent his entire body to the left. He was supposed to leave behind everything that held him back.
In the end, the only thing that left was the only thing that mattered.
Shrinkyclinks canon-divergent AU. What if Project Rebirth didn't go right...but it didn't go entirely wrong either? A story about ghosts but not a ghost story. Or maybe something else entirely? Steve fights his body and time and the memories that keep haunting him. Beautifully written, with gorgeous art by PottersPink that perfectly complements the story.
3. Exhale by seapigeon, art by dudewhereismypie | 15K, M
Author's summary: After the Chitauri invasion, Steve parts ways with SHIELD, unsure if he can trust an agency that tried to deceive him and built weapons from the Tesseract.
He finds himself alone in an unfamiliar future, penniless, not even legally alive. Fortunately, he knows how to survive. Steve Rogers is used to getting by on his own.
The thing is, he doesn't have to.
Shrunkyclunks. Post-Avengers canon divergent. A fic that asks the question: What if, after the battle of New York, Steve had told SHIELD a polite but firm 'No'? Follow him as he strikes out on his own, finds an apartment, a job, and friends, figures out life in the 21st century...and of course falls in love!
4. Preberseeschießen by Ginny_Potter | 6K, T
Author's summary: Bucky breathes out and shoots. The bullet hits water… and there it is, the zapping sound of paper tearing.
The light turns on and off three times. Third circle. Just a lick out of bullseye. The Howlies explode in cheers.
Or, the Howling Commandos play a shooting game with the Austrian Resistance and Steve has lots of unresolved feelings about himself, his new body, and his changing relationship with Bucky. In other words, comrades are comrades, angst looms, and Steve feels.
Wartime fic. Would you like to read some excellent gay angst full of yearning and unresolved tension, peppered with interesting and wonderfully specific historical details and Howlies camaraderie? Would you like to get your heart crushed a little? Yes? Here you go. And if this makes you feel too sad by the end of it and you crave a bit of a happier resolution, just jump straight into a fistfull of dollars (5K, E) by the same author, which is not intended as a companion piece or even set in the same universe, but it works just as if it were. (Look at me sneaking in extra recs.)
5. Not In The Answer But The Question by aimmyarrowshigh, art by PottersPink | 27K, T
Author's summary: It rankles that his drink was made before he even got a chance to order it. What if he wanted a change? What if he were adventurous and bold? What if he tried something new?
---
Or, Steve Rogers shakes up his gray daily routine in 2014 by going back home to Vinegar Hill. To his surprise, the Jewish deli he used to frequent with Arnie is still standing.
And Steve's whole life changes again.
Shrunkyclunks. Post-Avengers canon divergent. A lost and lonely Steve tries to figure out who he was, is and most importantly, wants to be in this new century he's found himself in that is both terrifying and full of possibilities. Told in vignettes (I did not count, but I believe all of them are exactly 100 word drabbles) that perfectly illustrate the fragmented mind and life of its protagonist and his experience of constantly shifting and adjusting between past and present. A story about identity, memory, self-acceptance, and finding the courage to love and let yourself be loved. And food. So much amazing food!
+ 1 TBR: Operation: Gros Michel by SquadOfCats | 358K, E
Author's summary: “It starts with bananas. Of course, it's not really about the bananas. Just like a camel isn't bothered by one single straw, just like a dam doesn't break because of one extra drop. Obviously, Steve's mental breakdown isn't about bananas.”
Steve is overwhelmed and hanging by a thread, doing his best to take care of Bucky while still deeply traumatized himself. He finally has a breakdown over the stupidest of things: bananas. So Bucky takes care of him.
In which Steve learns to surf, Bucky becomes a gardener, and they both begin to heal.
Post-CA:TWS canon divergent. No, I did not make a mistake, the word count for this story really does come in at an impressive (or intimidating, you decide) 358,225 words! Which is the only reason why I haven't read it yet. I do want to make time for this asap because the snippets I've read so far were very intriguing and everything I've heard about it from people who have finished it, sounds absolutely amazing. So, this is the wild card pick!
Happy reading! <3
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weneverfreeze · 2 months
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every battle-earned bruise
Elbows deep in sudsy water, scrubbing plates with his eyes kept safe on the sponge in his hand, Bucky too close to his shoulder and all the farther for it. Steve hands him a plate. Their fingers don’t touch. 
There’s a dance to this. Something careful, measured; he feels Bucky’s eyes resting directly on the corner of his jaw, then slip to his neck, then drop down his forearms. If Steve looked back he’d probably see Bucky staring at the corner like he hadn’t been watching. 
His gaze flits around the room quick as anything these days. There was a time when he’d spend hours looking at the clouds from the fire escape. Now he’s looking, always looking, always assessing threats and risks and exit plans. Steve still isn’t sure which category these particular examinations fall under. 
In the space between them, Steve asks, “You remember that time in the alley, after Peterson punched my lights out?” His voice is quiet, quiet. There is a fragility to this rhythm that could break as easily as a dropped plate. 
Bucky shifts his weight. “I remember.”
A shouting match, a sharp, radiating pain that just wouldn’t quit, not for days and days after. Bucky’s soft swear and flitting hands. Steve hands him a glass and asks, “How much of that do you remember?”
Steve risks a glance up and in their reflection in the window, Bucky meets his eyes. And back then Bucky had cursed him up and down with a damn you, damn you, why do you do this and his fingers on Steve’s jaw and Steve had spat blood out of his mouth and said, far more pathetic than he’d wanted, Steve had wiped his chin and said, I like your hands on me like that. 
They hadn’t talked about it afterwards. The draft and the war and the Howlies, the serums in both of their veins running counter to one another back then and even still now, history weighing so heavy on both their shoulders, eyes that once focused on clouds trained to focus through sniper scopes. Memory is a fraught thing. They haven’t yet cleared all the landmines stretching between them. 
Bucky sets the glass down. Steve holds his breath, stays still as Bucky’s fingertip outlines the memory of a scar on his jaw. Then Bucky’s thumb dips, resting on Steve’s bottom lip as he frowns in concentration. His memory face, Sam calls it. He slightly tilts Steve’s face from left to right and back again like he’s remembering the blood and the bruises before leaning in and kissing him. 
Oh. It’s a breath of a kiss more than anything and he wasn’t — he’s too slow, he wasn’t expecting it; Steve kisses him back a second after Bucky pulls away, still studying him with that searching expression on his face. He catches a glimpse of his own wide eyes in the window and oh, he wasn’t expecting that. Oh, oh. 
“Is that right?” Bucky asks, thumb still on Steve’s lip. “Did I do that then? In the alley?”
Steve shakes his head. “No,” he says, and Bucky’s hand falls away. He clears his throat. “No, you never — never did that.”
Bucky shrugs. Picks up the dish towel. “Must’ve just wanted to then. It’s hard spotting the difference between memories and wishes.”
He’s far away again. Farther, because he was so close just a second ago. It’s like lowering your mouth to a mirror and breathing on it to see the condensation, that’s what that kiss was. Bucky was testing him out to see what’s left between before it faded. Wasn’t he?
“Bucky,” Steve says. 
And — Bucky catches his eyes in the window, looks away, turns and leans so he’s facing him. “We really never did that before?”
“I didn’t know you wanted to.”
“But you wanted to?” he asks. 
And Steve says, “Yes.” And he says, “I would’ve kissed you back then, if you’d kissed me first.”
Bucky’s gaze dips, finds the door, the empty space at Steve’s hip where he usually wears a gun, skim past his thigh before flicking back to Steve’s. Threats, risks, exit plans. “And now?”
“Now—” Steve’s breath catches. He dries his hands on the towel Bucky’s holding and says, “Yeah, Buck. I’d kiss you now.”
He leans in this time. This time, he brushes Bucky’s hair behind his ear, threads his fingers through to cradle the nape of his neck, leaves some space between their bodies in case Bucky wants it there. Slow movements. Steve isn’t sure which one of them he’s afraid of spooking off. He exhales as Bucky eases him closer by his belt loops and when they kiss, it’s gentle. It’s a dance he half-remembers the steps to, a routine learned in dreams in a Brooklyn apartment years ago. 
Bucky’s lips are soft. He wasn’t expecting that. He thinks a lot of things would’ve been different if he’d known this back then. 
Bucky moves away first. Steve is struck again by the normalcy of him here in his kitchen, standing next to counters Steve installed and drying dishes Steve picked out at random. He doesn’t look out of place anymore. He looks — pleased. Like he got away with something he thought he’d get nailed on for sure. And Steve knows. 
“You remembered, didn’t you?” he asks. He laughs a little; Bucky smiles a little. “You knew we hadn’t—”
“I’ve been wanting to,” Bucky says. “I know you’ve noticed me looking at you. Seemed like you’ve been wanting to, too. Do you still like it when I touch you like that?”
He thumbs Steve’s bottom lip as he asks it and Steve — well. Steve’s pinned by his touch. Something like anticipation whispers its way up his spine. 
“Yes,” he says. Bucky doesn’t move his hand; Steve says, “If we finish the dishes first, will you kiss me again?”
And oh, there — that ghost of a laugh. Those eyebrows pulled in for a challenge and those eyes bright with amusement, teasing the way they used to decades ago. Shoulders broader and his smile heavier too. Bucky Barnes in his kitchen. He’d do it all over again if this is where they ended up. Every battle-earned bruise brought him back to Bucky Barnes in his kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder, waiting to finish the dishes so they can kiss again, closing the loop on a circle a hundred years in the making. Steve’s so in love he almost can’t bear it.
“Okay,” Bucky says simply, eyes alight, and their fingers brush as Steve hands him a plate. 
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cable-knit-sweater · 3 days
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Before The First Light
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Rating: T Word count: 884 words Tags: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, nightmares, minor injuries, Steve Rogers needs a hug, (light?) angst
Written for @catws-anniversary || March 26 prompts: on your left, PTSD, endurance
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He’s running. 
Steve’s running so fast that even with the serum coursing through his veins, his lungs are starting to burn with the strain of exertion. He barely pays any attention to the bullets whistling past him, dodging and weaving to avoid them, almost just on instinct. It is on instinct. There isn’t much time to think about anything but getting out.
The place is a fucking maze though, so it’s taking longer than he’d planned.  So much for that damn song, he thinks, almost laughing at the irony. So much for being the man with a plan.
He presses on, through endless corridors twisting and turning, Hydra soldiers hot on his heels. Steve thinks that maybe they’ve finally figured it out, judging from the screaming and cursing. That he’s just a diversion so the other Howlies could go to work. 
By now, they’ve definitely set the place to blow.  By now, Steve should’ve made his way out. 
A bullet grazes his shoulder, but he tries to ignore the searing pain as he pushes himself harder, his heart hammering in his chest. 
Suddenly, he’s outside, the building exploding behind him. He’s hit with a blast of air, pressure, heat, but it just propels him forward faster. There’s still no time to think. 
There’s more cursing and shouting. This time it’s not in German though.
 It’s in a heavy Brooklyn accent, his favorite in all the fucking world. 
“Are you fuckin kidding me? Are you tryin’ to get blown to pieces? For fuck’s sake Rogers!!”
“Just brushing up on my German,” he yells back as he gets closer and closer to the source of the cursing and shouting. “You know, they’d call you an Arsch-”
“Don’t you even think ab- fuck, Stevie, watch out! Three at your 9 o’clock!” 
Steve twists and turns to the right, still running towards the treeline that Bucky is shouting at him from.  He doesn’t slow down or turn back - he’s made that mistake before and gotten an earful - as Bucky takes out the Hydra goons with his rifle.
He doesn’t slow down or turn back until he gets to Bucky’s position. That’s where he draws the line. Steve’s not ever going anywhere without him. 
By the time he comes to a stop, Bucky has taken care of the last stragglers, and Steve collapses against a tree. 
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, you can say that again,” Bucky grumbles as he drops down from a tree branch. “What the fuck?”
They start running again, side by side, Bucky on his left like always. There’s no benefit in sticking around. There might be more Hydra soldiers out there, and the other Howlies will definitely give them shit if they take much longer catching up to the group. 
“Hmm.”
“I was this close to coming in and dragging your ass out. Did we not have a plan?” 
“I was fine. I am fine, stop bitching, Buck.”
Bucky pushes his shoulder against Steve’s, and he winces. Of course, Bucky notices. “Fine, huh? I’m thinkin I should just tie myself to you so you don’t go runnin’ off making stupid ass decisions.”
“What makes you think I won’t do that with you tied to me?”
“Good point,” Bucky huffs. “You’d probably enjoy it, and then you’d just drag me int-”
The rest of his sentence gets cut off by a blood curdling scream. Steve’s heart stops. It’s Bucky. 
****
Steve jolts awake. 
He’s drenched in sweat, his senses still reeling. A little disoriented, he scans his dimly lit room, heart hammering against his ribcage, the image of Bucky lying motionless on the ground, blood staining the fabric of his uniform, still seared freshly into his mind.
It’s hard to ground himself. It seemed so real for a moment, like it was yesterday. But he’s not waking up in a tent in the French countryside, or on his cot back at SSR headquarters in London. He’s not waking up with-
He wakes up alone, in his DC apartment, and it’s never felt more suffocatingly small.  
With a heavy sigh, Steve swings his legs over the edge of his bed.  His muscles are protesting with the weight of exhaustion that still clings to him, but there’s no point in staying in bed. It’s not like he’s gonna get much more sleep now. He knows what images he’ll see if he closes his eyes.
Instead, he forces himself out of bed, switches out of his sweat-drenched clothes and into his running gear, and makes his way out of the apartment as quickly as he can. 
Running - ironically, given tonight’s dream - will help. Just to have a moment, an hour (or two) to not have to think, that’s all he needs. It doesn’t matter that it’s barely light out. He’ll be at it for a while. 
Maybe he'll try a different route today. Make his way south towards the Potomac, run a couple laps around the Mall before it’s run over with tourists.
Yeah, that’s what he’ll do. The sunrise over the Mall will make a pretty sight. Not enough to dislodge the dream still haunting him, but he doesn’t think anything ever will be. 
He doesn’t take much time to warm up, even if he knows he should. Soon enough, he’s running full speed.
He’s running. 
Steve’s running fast, but his lungs don’t burn. His heart, though. His heart aches.
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rookthorne · 10 months
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐁𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲'𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭
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The first step was always the hardest one to make, even if it was only a baby step, it was forward. And forward was the direction you were determined to go. 
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ❥ Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ❥ 1.9k
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ❥ Fluff, angst (body image issues), comfort ჻჻჻ TROPES: Meet Cute
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ❥ I am gonna admit that I teared up writing this. ❥ I wrote it with a Plus Size!F!Reader in mind, but it is not descriptive.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ❥ Would That I by Hozier
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჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 ❥ @buckybarnesevents Into an Alternate Juneiverse 𝗖𝟮 — Personal Trainer AU — Masterlist
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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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It was a simple step, in retrospect. A simple phone call, and then an appointment, and then you were part of it – it was meant to be easy, a smooth transition. 
So, you had to ask yourself: why in the hell was now the time to hesitate? Just outside the double glass doors of the Howlie’s Gym, tote bag over your shoulder, and clothes that were certainly not made for athleticism – if the other women in the gym were anything to go by. 
“You can do this,” you muttered to yourself, looking down at your fit – simple leggings and an extremely oversized shirt, the perfect size to not cling to the curves and plains of your body. You preferred it that way. “Baby steps.”
Steeling your resolve, you reached for the door handle, and paused. The cold metal of the handle was freezing against the heat of your clammy palm. You were slightly early for your second appointment – more accurately described as an ‘orientation’ – but you figured being early was better than being late. Good first impressions, after all. 
The door swung open, and the sounds and sights and smells of the well kept gym slammed your senses. It was clean, and if you had to put a few words to it, it was homey, welcoming, and spacious – people were smiling and laughing at one another, trainers were praising and encouraging patrons to complete their sets and reps. 
“Hey there,” a voice said next to you, and you looked over to find a tall blond, his smile wide and eyes bright. “I’m Steve, you must be–?”
“Oh, hello,” you greeted, taking his offered hand and offering your name. 
“Ah, yes, you came in to see Sam the other day, right?” 
You recounted back, and nodded. Sam had been the receptionist slash lead trainer that day of your appointment to sort your membership. “Yeah, he booked me in and did all the paperwork.” As you spoke, the sounds of clanging metal weights and grunts of effort bled into the background – Steve’s presence was comforting and soothing, even when he looked like he could bench press you, and more. 
“Perfect, that means less work for me,” he said happily, reaching for a clipboard on a shelf next to him, and he looked down the list. “Looks like you’re paired up with Barnes. When that’s done, he’ll walk you through the gym, and if you’re comfortable, he’ll begin planning your regime.”
“Okay, cool.” You smiled, the line wavering nervously. 
Steve pointed at a long row of cubby holes. “Put your bag wherever a free space is, and then I’ll introduce you to Bucky–Barnes,” he offered, seeing your sudden confusion. 
Slowly, you walked over to a free space, depositing your bag with a sigh. The atmosphere was charged with competitiveness, and you weren’t sure you could keep up – having joined purely to better yourself, and build your strength, not to mention stop the huffing and puffing from climbing flights of stairs. 
Biting the bullet, you turned back around and found Steve glancing at the clipboard, his gaze focused. “Baby steps,” you reminded yourself quietly, and you walked over to be in his eyeline. 
“Ready?” Steve asked, and you nodded. “Alright, come with me.”
The walk through the gym was surprisingly easy – people smiled at Steve, greeting him with handshakes and then grinning and nodding at you, welcoming you into the community like you belonged there. “Everyone is so nice,” you whispered, suddenly unsure.
“‘Course they are, darling,” Steve piped up. His smile tampered the nerves down to a low simmer, and you couldn’t help but blink at him. “We take pride in being welcoming, you’ll not find any assholes here–promise.”
“I dunno about that, Stevie,” a different voice replied. You searched for the source, and it was all you could do to not gasp quietly at the sight of the man before you – tall and handsome as hell, athletic shorts covering his hips and upper thighs, and muscle tank exposing his toned flanks. It was like being in the presence of a God, but more… Charming. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
“Shut up, punk,” Steve groused, shaking his head. “This here is your new client.” He offered your name, and you only just got it together in time to shake Bucky’s outstretched hand. “Alright, love,” Steve said, looking at you. “I will leave you in Buck’s capable hands.”
That should not have been as much of an innuendo as you hoped, you hastily thought, watching Steve’s retreating back with mounting trepidation. 
“So,” Bucky said softly, and you whipped your focus back to him to see him smiling warmly – his posture open and inviting, as though he was making his stature smaller to be less intimidating. “Why don’t we move this to the office, and you can tell me a bit more about what you’re after?”
“Sounds good,” you answered quietly, your hands fidgeting. Willing your heart to slow the pounding against your ribs, you reminded yourself that it was an appointment – it was Bucky’s job, he was meant to get to know you and your goals, hell, you were paying the membership for this. Taking a deep breath, you stepped to the side a little. “Lead the way.”
Walking behind Bucky, however, wasn’t a clever idea in hindsight. Seeing up close how his muscles shifted as he strode towards an open door by the entrance of the gym did no favours for your imagination – and his ass in those shorts… You couldn’t be blamed for the furtive glances sent towards it, or his thighs. Fuck, pull it together, you scolded yourself. 
“Here we are,” Bucky said suddenly, and you stumbled as you came to a halt in the open doorway. It didn’t look like an office at all – one wall had a two-seater couch, a coffee table in front of it, and then two recliners on the other side. A water tower sat in the corner by a bunch of towering potted plants, and the room was cosy with warm lighting. 
If you didn’t know any better, you would have said this was someone’s living room. 
“You okay, doll?” 
“Oh, sorry, I was just- Uh, taken aback,” you rushed, stepping into the comfortable space. The urge to fidget disappeared suddenly, a sense of calm sweeping your being in the peaceful room. 
Bucky closed the door with a soft click and gestured to the two-seater couch. “S’alright, a lotta people are shocked when they see our ‘meeting’ room–I don’t blame ‘em, to be honest,” he admitted, a hint of laughter in his words. “After all, it’s not often your local gym takes comfort into consideration.”
“You can say that again.” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, and your jaw snapped shut. “Sorry–”
“Hey, no, you’re fine,” Bucky soothed, grabbing a pad of paper from a shelf next to the door. “It’s the truth–I know that much, doll.”
The recliner huffed as Bucky plopped heavily down onto the cushion, and his demeanour shifted to someone with insatiable curiosity. “What we’re gonna do today is just mainly talking, and if we have time at the end, I’ll walk you through the gym and get a feel for where you’re at, and start on making your regime.” He stopped when he caught the widening of your eyes, and he held a hand up. “You’re not expected to do anything strenuous today, doll. You can take a breath of relief.”
Such heartfelt reassurance made the traitorous thundering of your heart to slow a fraction, enough to not be incessantly beating against your ribs with enough enthusiasm to leap free. You took another deep breath, and looked around the room once more while Bucky fiddled with a pen and his phone. 
“It’s nice here.” Bucky looked up, eyes searching, so you continued, “I-I mean, I’ve been to many gyms, and this one is just… nice.”
“I’m glad.” Bucky grinned, and put his phone back in his pocket. “Let’s begin with why you’re here, at Howlie’s–what’s got you through the doors?”
“Um…” 
Bucky smiled that soft smile again, and nodded encouragingly. “Take your time, doll. This appointment is a long one.”
“Well,” you began, fighting down the urge to bolt from the room. “I, um- Well, I haven’t always been the most fit.” The faltering flow of your story only served to make you more nervous, but Bucky seemed nonplussed, pen poised and moving as he began to take notes. “And I guess, I just want to be stronger. I’m tired of, y’know-” You gestured to the whole of your body. “Being the way I am.”
“Alright, I’m gonna stop you right there, sweetheart,” Bucky cut in, and you met his fierce, but fond stare with wide eyes. “This… journey will help you to learn to love the way you are. Sure, your strength and endurance will get better with my help, and the right exercises, but, doll,” he sighed, his brows furrowing in thought. “I know it’s not my place, or maybe it’s not appropriate, but I think you’re beautiful just the way you are. And it is my job–and passion,” he emphasised, “to get you to be the best you can be–and that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“Oh, boy,” you breathed, your throat tight. “I don’t know what to say–”
“That’s fine. You don’t need to say nothin’, doll. Let’s continue, yeah–not dwell on it?” Bucky offered, writing something down on the pad of paper. 
With yet another deep, wavering breath, you plunged on – explaining how you wanted to be fitter, stronger in your body and confidence, even going as far as to say you wanted a ‘bikini ready body’, while trying to ignore the raised brow from the man across from you, as though he wanted to protest. “And that’s it,” you concluded, more exhausted than you thought you’d be. 
Bucky smiled, nodded once, and looked up at you from the paper that he finished writing on. “That’s a really good start. I want to begin with your strength–the rest will come naturally as we progress.”
“That sounds like a plan.” You rose from your seat as Bucky did. “So, what do we do now?”
“Now I take you on a ‘tour’, and see where you’re at with the equipment.” Bucky smirked, and opened the door. “Ladies first.”
“Such a gentleman,” you simpered, and Bucky barked a laugh, his nose scrunching. 
It was unusually easy falling into antics with Bucky – his easy nature and kind words making it hard to not feel at ease and comfortable in his presence, and you admitted privately to yourself that he wasn’t bad to look at, either. 
The two of you walked around the equipment, Bucky stopping every now and then to help a patron to adjust a set of weights, or correct a posture, but he never strayed too far. 
Each and every piece of equipment that you tried (and sometimes failed at), he was right there, helpful advice and encouraging words aplenty. 
“Thank you, Bucky,” you said finally, out of breath and standing at your cubby hole. “I appreciate the kindness and sincerity–”
“People haven’t been kind to you about this, have they?” Bucky asked quietly – not unkindly, like he was scared you’d spook. But it made no difference. The burn of tears started before you could stop them. Bucky clicked his tongue, and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “That’s alright, you’re here now–and I will take a’you. You’re safe here, okay?”
For once, in a place that you had felt like you stuck out – didn’t fit in, or were welcome to be in the past, you felt safe. And you smiled for it, because, beneath all that fear, you believed him. You believed Bucky. 
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⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
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I love the Howling Commandos so much, they’re so underrated if you ask me, especially the awesome dynamic they 100% had. I imagine all of them in very specific ways, some things are based off of fics I’ve read, some of it is just me.
Steve Rogers: Steve is the youngest of them all, he’s also the least experienced one and he hasn’t been part of the group nearly as long as the others considering he came into the picture after Kreischberg. He’s really fun to talk to and he’s as much of a little shit as the others are, being the leader of their group he’s in charge of tacking care of talking to superiors and shit, and he often ignores direct orders to do what he thinks is a better option, he also lets his team get away with things regular soldiers wouldn’t be allowed to do and they love him for it. He often gets yelled at by Bucky after doing stupid shit, the other Howlies often jokingly refer to him as “Dad” when it’s just them.
Bucky Barnes: Bucky has the others’ immense respect from the start, because he’s protective and caring as much as he hates to admit it. He is the only one who has negative amount of problems yelling at Steve after he did some stupid shit, he was the most scarred by Kreischberg but never lets it show. He loves music and always has a song stuck in his head and has fun pissing the others off by butchering the songs when it’s safe to be loud. He trusts Steve more than he probably should and goes with his plans, though he often forces him to modify them and cut down the crap. His protectiveness and strictness when Steve’s being a dumbass gets the others to nickname him “Mom” when they’re in private. He ‘hates’ it.
Dum Dum Dugan: Dum Dum was Bucky’s closest friend after Steve, he has a stupid sense of humor and says way too many dad jokes than is good for his teammates’ mental health. He’s always the first to jump at the opportunity to get his hands on some alcohol (no one complains about that) and he and Jim are the primary clowns of the group. He loves to tease the others, especially “Mom” and “Dad”.
Jim Morita: Jim is the one in charge of their immediate medical problems and small tech involved stuff, like Dugan, he has a shit sense of humor and they often get into battles of who can out dad-joke the other.
Gabe Jones: like Dum Dum, Gabe has known Bucky since before Azzano, and is the one in charge of languages, he speaks French and German more fluently than the others do and in the beginning he was usually in charge of dealing with Jacques’ bullshit.
Monty Falsworth: Monty is the only official member of the Howlies who isn’t broke (he is often teased about it). He could be considered the most sane of the Howlies (though not by far) he is the most experienced of the group to talk about strategy and often helps Steve and helps Bucky knock some reason into the little shit. They like to tease him for living up to every British stereotype and is often asked to ‘translate’ what Peggy says. He has a sister named Jaqueline who is a spy for the SOE.
Jacques Dernier: Jacques was a member of the French resistance, he’s from Marseille and is fully fluent in English but refuses to speak it. He understands everything the others tell him but speaks to them in French and lets them deal with it, after over a year of dealing with him all of the Howlies are more or less fluent in French. They call him a fucking pyromaniac because of his love of explosives and his talent with them. He also has a shit sense of humor that rivals with Dum Dum and Jim and is probably the most batshit crazy member of the team (though the others are pretty close behind him).
Howard Stark is considered an honorary member of the Howlies idc about any contradiction: rule n°1 when it comes to Howard Stark; don’t leave him alone with Jacques Dernier. They will set something on fire or worse. He and Monty are often laughed at for having money and they tease back by talking about rich people problems in front of the others. He is called a lot of names by the Howlies such as things like “Gadget”, “Engineer”, “Civilian”, “Civy” and things among those lines making fun of him not technically being a part of the military. He is involved in a lot of the Howlies’ inside jokes including the “Mom” and “Dad” thing.
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kaunis-sielu · 4 months
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Dangerous Places: 7
You don’t know why she’d do that, she’s going to be in so much trouble later and all for you.
“Okay, just us girls now.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.” You whisper, the horror evident in your voice.
“Why?”
“He’s going to be so mad.”
“Did he look mad to you?”
“But,”
“Things are different here. Once you have his loyalty it takes losing your loyalty to lose his.” She says, “Here,” she grabs the pizza box, “you should eat.”
“Which pizza is it?”
“He got two cheese, which was weird because that man likes his pizza loaded, but now it makes sense.” She puts the pizza on the coffee table, “You want a plate?”
“Um, yes please.” You watch as she crosses to the kitchen and pulls out a plate, she hands it to you over the back of the couch. She plops down on the coffee table next to the pizza box and watches you with soft eyes. You open the box and grab a slice of pizza, not the most effective way to get your blood sugar up but it’ll do while you wait for your apple juice.
“So, how are you doing?” She asks as you slowly start to eat.
“Fine.”
“No, you’re not fine. You don’t have to guard yourself around me, you can tell me what’s really going on.”
“You won’t tell him?”
“No, not unless it’s something I have to. Self harm or something.” She clarifies and you nod.
“I’m fucking terrified. He kidnapped me and grilled me and threatened me but now he’s being all nice.” It’s like what Crossbones did, he fooled you, treated you like a princess then destroyed your life. “I just feel like it’s whiplash.”
“I’m sorry, he kidnapped you? Why?”
“Winter saw my brand.” When she looks confused you show her the side of your wrist and she pales.
“Oh my god. Why did he take you?”
“Wanted to be sure I wasn’t a threat.”
“If you’re Crossbones you’re a threat!”
“I’m not his.” You say fiercely, “I will never belong to a man again.”
“But-“
“I ran away.” You admit and she looks impressed, “and I’d rather die than go back.” Someone knocks on the door but doesn’t wait for the call to enter.
“Bunny, I’ve got that juice for you.” Steve says entering the little house again. Nat’s eyebrows go up as he brings you a full container of juice. “Do you want a glass?”
“Yes please.” He grabs one for you then pours some juice into the glass, “is that too much?”
“No, thank you.” You say as you take the glass from him. This and the pizza should be more than enough to get your sugar up. He leans against the counter after putting the juice in the fridge.
“You can go.” Nat says glancing over at him.
“She eats at least two full pieces.” He tells Nat as he pops off of the counter and heads for the door.
“Any reason I’m force feeding her?”
“Bunny, if you don’t wanna tell her I’ll leave that up to you.”
“I’m diabetic.” You tell her after he closes the door, “you’re really not going to be in trouble with him for telling him to leave?”
“Not at all.”
“It wasn’t like that with Crossbones.”
“I can imagine. Do you want to talk about it?” You stop chewing, the pizza in your mouth is suddenly like cement, “you don’t have to.” You stand and limp your way to the garbage can and spit out the pizza, thinking about how bad things got with him, the daily abuse, the assaults, it’s too hard to even think about most days. Now you’re back in, you’re trapped all over. He’s going to find you, there’s no way he doesn’t, no matter how careful Steve is. They pay too much attention to The Howlies to not notice.
“Whoa, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Come back over here. Sit down.” She says standing and offering you her hand but you shrink away.
“No, no I can’t. I’m, I can’t.”
“That bad?”
“He, he did things that I buried a long time ago. Being back in,” you stomach churns and you dry heave into the garbage.
“Cap!” Nat yells and you try to shush her but you can’t, you’re shaking too much. Gentle arms scoop you up and carry you back to the couch.
“Bunny?”
“I’m fine.” You tell him but he looks like he doesn’t believe you. You expect him to set you down on the couch but instead he sits down, you on his lap.
“Nat, juice.” She passes you the juice and you take a shaky sip. His arms are tight around you, almost too tight,
“Can you let me go?”
“As soon as you’re done shakin’ like a leaf.” He says gently, “if you pass out I don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”
“Oh.”
“Drink more juice Bunny.” Steve reminds you and you take another shaky sip. You’re probably going to be stuck on his lap for at least fifteen minutes if not longer.
Your shaking stops and the second it does he helps ease you off of him. Nat has been watching the whole interaction with interest and that alone makes you nervous.
You keep your eyes on your cup as the two of them talk. You’re grateful that the attention is off of you now and you’re able to drink your juice in peace.
“How are you feeling Bunny?”
“Fine.”
“Would you tell me anything different?” He challenges and you don’t say anything. There isn’t a right answer here, either you lie and say that you won’t lie to him or you admit that you were just lying. Either way he’s not going to be happy.
“You can be honest with him,” Nat says and you look skeptically over at her earning yourself another chuckle from Steve.
“I’m not worried about it Nat.” He gives you a little smile, “eventually I’ll win her over.” Good luck.
He waits for you to eat another slice of pizza, chatting with Nat and occasionally trying to get you into the conversation. You don’t say much but you appreciate them not completely ignoring you.
“Alright Bunny,” Steve says after you’ve eaten your fill of pizza and tested your blood sugar again. “I’m gonna get going, do you want me to bring you back to the bedroom again?”
“No thank you.”
“Okay, I’ll try to come back in a couple days but I’ll have some of the girls come over so you’re not alone all the time. They can get you whatever you need. Make a list for food okay? We don’t normally need to shop for dietary restrictions.”
“Okay.” You agree and he gives you a soft smile then heads out. Nat doesn’t stay much longer. You don’t blame her. You wouldn’t want to hang out with you either. You limp your way to the bedroom and go to sleep.
Tag list:
@andahugaroundtheneck @connie326 @also-fangirlinsweden @lumar014 @loving-life-my-way @pagina16ps @emdying @dumblani @valsworldofcreativity @blackwidownat2814 @vicmc624 @abschaffer2 @patzammit @inkedaztec @sophham
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stevetonyweekly · 3 months
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SteveTony Weekly - The Best of 2023
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We made it to the end of the year!! I read…a lot. A lot. According to my records, I read: 
1300 fic 
15million words 
98% of that was SteveTony and narrowing that down to my favorite 10 was…a mission. Here you go--And I’d LOVE to hear what your favorite reads of the year was. 
~
Trust Fall by Sineala
Tony needs someone who cares about him, bandages, a jacket, ibuprofen, dinner, a lasting romantic relationship, a nice time in bed, and assistance committing federal crimes. He gets them. In that order.
Gather Ye Rosebuds by lazywriter7
It isn’t like that, for many people. For them, love is the point: the axis around which everything else revolves, the destination at the end of a long, tumultuous journey. Realisation, confession, resolution. Happy ending. That’s how it goes. And love was a point in Tony Stark’s journey, except it came towards the beginning, rather than the end. The issue, instead of the solution.
He hasn’t been alone on the trip, of course. Steve’s been there: sometimes three steps behind, sometimes waiting up ahead by the turn of the road. They’ve sprinted and stumbled, sometimes stood still and refused to move on ahead, sometimes thought of turning away altogether.
Steve and Tony’s story began after they fell in love, and this is about how they fell in everything else.
a rose by any other name by meidui
“Just Steve,” he says quickly, softly, and his voice is music to Tony’s ears. “Please call me Steve.”
Tony can’t help but stare as it occurs to him that he should have prepared a proper greeting. What on earth is someone so young and pretty doing in an engagement like this?
-
There are a lot of things about Steve that make this arrangement easier than Tony thought it would be, but then there are a lot of things about him that complicate it, too.
Second Chance Lives by raeldaza 
Tony's gonna die of palladium poisoning anyway, why not join a pointless expedition to recover Captain America’s body? And after, well, why not dedicate his last few months to making sure an American hero settles into his new life? What else is he going to do, get drunk at parties?
My Known Unknown by shetlandowl
That True Lies AU nobody asked for, set in a world where Stane Inc is the world's foremost weapons manufacturer, and Tony's employer.
I could lie tangent to your curves by RurouniHime
Steve is bodyguard to a prominent young socialite with too much genius on his hands... and who has taken an unfortunate shine to him.
Not a Breakup by Annie D (scaramouche)
Tony knew it was a bad idea to start sleeping with Steve. It could mess up team dynamics, make things even more awkward between them in the future, or just plain get in the way of their trying to save the world. Tony foresaw all of the above but not the advent of feelings, and at the most inopportune moment.
now I worship a celestial sun by haemodye
The thing that gets Tony the most is how long it takes him to notice.
Not Steve, or even the other Avengers, but Tony himself. It takes Tony almost two whole weeks to figure out that he’s unable to disobey a direct order from Steve, which just- what the hell is that? What happened to the days when he flew off the handle, unable to play well with others, a notorious wild card?
“God, don’t tell me I’m getting old and predictable,” he says, rubbing a hand over his forehead. And then, “Fuck.”
A mostly-comedic farce involving: 1 obedience spell, 2 pining Avengers, 1 long-suffering Sorcerer Supreme, and 1 single, extravagant Saint Patrick's Day float.
Can't Write One Song (That's Not About You) by FestiveFerret 
Ten years ago, Tony fell in love with his roommate: funny, handsome, kind, smart Steve Rogers, who also happened to be the lead singer and guitarist of a band, The Howlies.
Then The Howlies made it big, Steve moved away, and Tony vowed to avoid any mention of the band, their songs, and the man he missed his chance with.
But chance has a way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don't know it yet...
[Podfic of] When The Lights Go On Again by Dr_Fumbles_McStupid, kalakirya, KD reads (KDHeart), lattice_frames, lavenderfrost, miss_marina95, Opalsong, paraka, Superstitiousme, vassalady
Aliens have invaded earth, and the Avengers are scattered. While Steve leads the resistance, Tony once again finds himself playing captive scientist. In the midst of a violent alien regime, separated by seemingly insurmountable boundaries, Steve and Tony have nothing to keep themselves going but each other.
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ishipallthings · 8 months
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Cap-IM Rec Week 2023 (Tues)
It's About the Yearning Tuesday, July 18 for @cap-ironman Rec Week!
Today I'm reccing fics based on my favorite trope of all time - pining 💜
Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!
take my heart clean apart by mistymountainking @stovetuna
Tony comes home exhausted after an SI event. Steve acts as welcoming committee. It's an old, careworn routine they've perfected over the years, but tonight ends up going in a very different direction.
Take A Number by 51stCenturyFox
So what if Tony Stark is sleeping with everybody else (except him)? Why would Steve care? He doesn’t even like Tony, and certainly not like that...
for you I’ll pretend (to fake it) by AvengersNewB @avengersnewb, Lacerta
Steve doesn't think twice when he agrees to help Tony out, even if it kills him inside to attend a gala as Tony's fake date. Tony doesn't know if he can keep up the pretense on this evening out as friends but it's as close as he can get to an actual date, so he takes it. Things don't go as planned though, with all the pining, the pent-up feelings, and bumping into Tony's horrible, obnoxious ex, Ty Stone.
Can't Write One Song (That's Not About You) by FestiveFerret @festiveferret
Ten years ago, Tony fell in love with his roommate: funny, handsome, kind, smart Steve Rogers, who also happened to be the lead singer and guitarist of a band, The Howlies. Then The Howlies made it big, Steve moved away, and Tony vowed to avoid any mention of the band, their songs, and the man he missed his chance with. But chance has a way of giving you exactly what you need, even if you don't know it yet...
you'll be mine and i'll be yours by complicationstoo @ifmywishescametrue
Five words ruin Tony's life. “He doesn't love me back,” Steve says, and Tony feels his world crumble to pieces at his feet. Steve loves someone, and Tony knows it isn't him.
in my head by brucewaynery
Tony tells Steve about solipsism, the theory that everything is merely a figment of your own imagination, and Steve lets something slip.
ignorance is (not) bliss by earliebirb @earliebirb
One of Tony’s hands shoots up to grab his wrist, gripping it tightly. Slowly, Tony opens his eyes. Steve’s blood freezes in his veins. His heart sinks with dread.  “Tony?” Steve hopes that this is just some weird bout of sleepwalking, but Tony doesn’t sleepwalk, and from the thoughtful way Tony regards him, Steve knows that Tony is somehow very much awake, which means— Tony swallows, his eyes wide and alert in a way Steve didn’t think they were capable of being twenty minutes ago.  “Steve,” he says, the single word carrying too much weight.
now I worship a celestial sun by haemodye (616)
A mostly-comedic farce involving: 1 obedience spell, 2 pining Avengers, 1 long-suffering Sorcerer Supreme, and 1 single, extravagant Saint Patrick's Day float.
Not a Perfect Man by Neverever @captainneverever (616)
Steve and Tony are back on track as friends and spending a lot of time together as they form a new Avengers team. But Steve is again in a rocky relationship with Sharon and Tony is dating a new woman. Steve struggles as his long-dormant crush on Tony comes back with a vengeance because he's supposed to be a good man and he doesn't want to lose Tony as a friend. What is he supposed to do as a friend when Tony's new girlfriend turns out to be not good for Tony?
The Culling of the Stars by dirigibleplumbing @dirigibleplumbing (616)
Tony dies saving Steve's life on the courthouse steps. Now Steve is left with the fallout of their Civil War, expected to take charge and preserve Tony's legacy. He doesn't know how he can do it alone—not when he can't stop thinking about Tony, or keep track of the days, or even feel.
What Was It You Wanted by sheron @sheronm
"C'mon, a kiss from Captain America is not so terrible." According to the alien custom, Steve had to kiss each teammate on the mouth, and some kisses come with more aftermath than others.
Down in Lonesome Town by resurrectedhippo
“Why do I always find my way back to you?” Maybe Tony didn’t necessarily return to Steve, but fate is a funny little thing, and after living a life of loss, Steve wants something that’s his to keep. After the universe is restored, Steve is lost without any direction. Retiring from the Avengers, he moves across the country and ends up building a house by a misty blue lake. Across the bridge is Tony Stark’s new workshop.
Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)
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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 months
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Hey, so, I've been contemplating this idea for a while, and I'm aware other people thought of this. But Bucky in a USO Chorus Girl outfit.
I imagine he'd be in the middle of a card game with Steve and their other comrades. Bucky's winning, he's getting cocky, so he makes a bet.
"If I lose, I have to wear one of them pretty outfits the showgirls wear."
Lo and behold, he loses. He's pissed about it. But he goes through with the bet.
And Steve?
Steve can't take his eyes off of Bucky for the life of him. But Bucky's being so whiny and pouty about it, acting like a brat.
So, Steve takes it upon himself to "fix" Bucky's attitude.
I was wondering if you have any thoughts on this? Or have you answered an ask similar to this before?
Oh my God, I love this idea. I've heard lots of ideas bouncing around in the stucky fandom after She Hulk, but never one exactly like this thought!
The thought of it being a lost bet is *chef's kiss*
I'm not currently taking prompts, but... what the hell, I only have a few days before I go back to college, I might as well spend my last little bit of this break by thinking of Bucky in a skirt...
Immediately, when you sent this prompt in, I was imagining Bucky with his arms crossed and a stormy look on his face. His lips are set in a straight line, and his brows furrowed; he's not pissed about being made to dress up in the skimpy outfit meant for one of the dancing dames that Steve twinkled over to this side of the war front with, he's fucking pissed that he lost. He was winning! And he woulda fuckin' won if Monty hadn't--
"You gonna give us a twirl, lady spangles?" Jim howls at him, grinning like a madman.
The wolf whistles of the other Howlies quickly join his words, overpowering them. Monty even sticks his fingers into his mouth to whistle extra loud--being, as usual, extra obnoxious. Just because he can.
"No," Bucky huffs, "that's not gonna happen," shifting where he stands, crossing his arms tighter and only letting his lip curl up slightly. He can feel the gauzy tulle fluffing the skirt swishing against his skin. Vaguely itchy and ticklish. He didn't put on the stockings to complete the outfit, but he kind of wishes that he did now. The sensation would be less distracting with another layer, at least. Probably. He's never worn stockings. Maybe they’d be even more distracting. Yet... he'd also be warmer with tights. Warmer if he hadn't fuckin’ lost and weren't wearing this sleeveless, low plunging, flag-blue top, revealing his decolletage and more. He's so cold his nipples are poking through the thin fabric. And the high waist joining the top and skirt is tight, pressing into him every time he takes a (hopefully) slow, calming breath. He feels not only cold but exposed, too.
Small mercies, at least, his hands were too big for any of the white, shiny gloves to be wearable. He can't get them over his fists. The same goes for the shoes. None of the dangers have the same size feet as Bucky does. Saves him some of his dignity. Just some. He won't fall flat on his face in any tiny, shiny heels tonight.
"Aw, c'mon, girlie," they laugh, a fuckin’ peanut gallery, all of ‘em.
"Fuck you," Bucky rolls his eyes hugely.
Bucky would like to go back to approximately twenty minutes ago when they were congregated around a flipped over apple box on the dirty, dusty floor of Steve's private Captain's tent with flickering lamp light and hazy cigarette smoke hanging over them, laid back as much as they could when on the front. Now, standing alone and just barely inside the shut tent entrance makes Bucky feel like he's the game. He might not be as competitive as Steve fucking is, but he doesn't like this outcome. Not at all. He grumbles to himself some more.
"Aw, don't say that." Someone teases.
“Yeah, don't beat yourself up, honey!” Another of the guys piles on.
“Mm-hm. You're so pretty. There's no need to be embarrassed."
"Shake it, baby!"
A few other sarcastic replies and catcalls meet his blunt unenjoyment of this lost bet. Bucky feels himself slowly turning red. His Ma taught him better than to ogle at ladies. Apparently, none of these animals got that message, though. That, or, they don't care about ogling about a man in a lady's things.
"How long do I have to stand here and be drooled over? You fuckers miss your gals that much?" Bucky uncrosses his arms, fisting the hem of the skirt, pulling it down. Does this really cover any of Steve's dancers? He had to roll his skivvies up so they didn't hang out from under the skirt. "Am I done?"
"Just a little longer, twinkles. You haven't paid your dues just yet."
“Yeah, and you won't ‘til you give us a twirl!”
Laughter bounces among them.
Bucky flips them off. But, he does stand there until they get bored of him. The only thing he hates more than losing is not holding to his word. He made a bet. It wasn't a smart bet--even if he's pretty sure Monty cheated just to pull his leg (probably conspiring with the others)--but whatever.
Bucky doesn't realize until the Howlies are shuffling out of the tent, slapping Bucky on the shoulder or ass as they leave, saluting him and drawling, “goodnight, ma’am,” “night, dolly,” and “you come here often, how come I’ve not seen you here before, baby,” among other things before disappearing into the darkness that's swallowed the camp whole... Steve hasn't said anything. But it hits him over the back of the head, the realization, once they're alone in his oversized tent. Steve is a little shit. He never has enough self-control to resist piling on, ragging Bucky harder than anyone else can get away with. Yet...
He hasn't done anything.
And come to think of it, as Bucky ties the canvas tent flaps shut, their men all gone, he can feel Steve's eyes on him. They're intense. Normally, Bucky gets a sense for if his gaze is hungry and burning or worried or whatever. He's not sure what this is. But he knows he's looking.
What can Bucky do but turn around?
Bucky catches his blue eyes ripping up, ashamed, from the bottom hem of his ruffled skirt.
And... they're eye to eye now, a scant few feet separating them. Silent, for the moment. Though, it never takes long for Steve to open his big mouth.
Steve licks his lips, “you--” he clears his throat, a false start, “you sure you don't wanna give it just one twirl?”
Bucky groans, rolling his eyes so hard that he just might pull something. “No,” he grinds his right heel into the gritty floor, “I wanna get outta this fuckin’ thing. I'm done.” And he is. So done. He lost, he made a bet, he got his, he doesn't need more.
He’s so done that he reaches up behind his shoulder, grasping blindly for the zip at the nap of his neck, feeling for the cold metal. He brushes over it a few times but can't quite get a solid hold on it. Wiggling, Bucky tries his best to get it. He can't.
He huffs, dramatic but feeling very deserved, “Steeve.”
“Hmm?” Steve is looking right at him, but he sounds the same way he always does when he's distracted by something else. As if he's stuck in a drawing, and Bucky is pestering him by asking him to do the dishes or launder their sheets.
Bucky’s jaw clenches, “unzip me.”
“Y-yeah,” Steve licks his lips again.
Damn, he's gonna give himself chapped lips. Actually, can he even get chapped lips now? With the serum? Shaking his head, not staying stuck on the thought, Bucky steps forward, turning around when he's in front of Steve and waiting for him to--
Suddenly, Steve's big hands are on his waist, causing him to jump--spooked 'cause he was expecting to feel him at the nape of his neck, slowly taking the zipper of his dress down, leaving him even more exposed to the chill of the night air. His hands are fucking huge. Dinner-plate-sized paws, he swears it. Feeling them around his waist catches Bucky off-guard. They're warm, too. He burns like a furnace now. That's just as unfamiliar.
“Steve--” Bucky starts to complain, the edge of an exasperated whine in his voice.
“Buck,” Steve's thumbs are drawing back and forth over the thin, silky material of his waistband. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. The heat from his big, huge fucking mitts and his thick, broad chest as he steps in closer bleed into Bucky. They're not even touching yet, but he's not cold anymore. The gauzy tulle squishes up against the back of his legs. Itchy.
“Get me out of this thing, I swear, Steve I'll--” Bucky is cut off, gasping, when Steve digs his fingers into his hips and tugs him back against him at the same time. His strength is literally breathtaking.
His lips, hot, are against the shell of his ear, the rasp of his stubble--already coming in even though he cleaned up this afternoon, shaving by the river out back from camp--against his hair, catching, make Bucky's blood turn thicker, “you really hate this that much, Buck?” His voice is low, barely a whisper. Bucky can still hear it. He can feel it. Breathed hot and humid against him.
“Yes,” the word is out of his mouth before he can think twice.
“Hmm, that's a shame,” Steve husks, “I think you should keep it. It suits you.”
That night from the bar flashes through Bucky, scoffing, he struggles fruitlessly against Steve's hold on his hip, “is this just payback for what I said, you can’t keep me lik--”
It turns out Steve can still hold him in place with just one hand. An arm around his waist, the thick, hard muscle pressing into his body. His other hand is busy covering his mouth.
Oh.
“Who’d’a thought all it'd take to put some fight in you is putting you in a little skirt, huh?” Steve chuckles, “coulda done that back home an’ maybe you woulda won more at Y.” He pats Bucky's face, his hand still over his mouth, unmoving like the fucker he is. Too strong for his own good.
Still, Bucky struggles more. Grumbling and debating if it’s worth it to bite his hand, he doubts licking it would make a difference. Struggling if not to get away and punch Steve in his shoulder for being a dick than just to feel him flex--his forearm, bicep, and his chest, so close. Pressed up against him.
Steve, ever an asshole, just laughs more. He doesn’t go anyway, smiling into his hair, “aw, c'mon, don’t be sore at me, the guys were tellin’ the truth, you don't look bad at all, Buck. It suits you.”
“Mmm-mnh!” Bucky complains against his hand, muffled.
“It really suits you…” Steve murmurs, repeating himself as his other hand releases his waist and smooths up his bare thigh, moving up under the skirt. His eyes, oppositely, drag down his body. His gaze boring right into him.
Bucky can't speak because of Steve's hand, but he still trips over his own tongue, choking and feeling heat rise high on his cheeks. It climbs to his ears. Steve is groping him. Squeezing his thighs. Ruffling the tulle. It swishes around his body, rubbing up on him just as much as Steve is.
“You gonna quit bitchin’ if I let you go?”
Bucky thinks about shaking his head, he still wants out of this damn thing, but the gesture turns into a nod without his permission and when Steve, true to his word, stops cupping his wide palm over his mouth, not a sound comes out of him until--
“Ohh,” the moan spills out of Bucky's buzzing lips, dripping in shock and heat all because one of Steve's big hands is on his waist again, touching the soft, silky fabric--petting him almost--and the other has flipped up his skirt and dived under his skivvies to get a whole, huge handful of his ass. Squeezing him filthily. Grabbing him like he wants to take a chunk out of him.
Also with the poofy skirt pushed up and out of the way, Bucky can feel the hot line of Steve's cock against him.
Jesus.
He likes it. He really likes it. He really likes him in this tiny, little getup. They've only just gotten alone, and he immediately had to jump him, and--
“Good boy,” Steve's voice is just a hot and just as close as his dick, pressed into his neck. Humid, dripping with arousal.
His voice is enough of a reward for Bucky, but Steve is generous. He adds to it. Letting his hand travel from his waist up his front, heavily dragging over his hip and stomach and chest until he gets to his nipple. They're still hard. Aching points on his chest. Needing to be touched.
“Nnngh,” another unintentional sound comes out of him when Steve thumbs his left nipple, sending a skittering spark down to his dick and pushing the shirt up.
Steve coos at him, the low hum rumbling through his chest and into Bucky, and Bucky… Bucky is washed away with another wave of heat, flushed heat to toe, and melting back onto Steve's chest. He doesn't budge. A fuckin’ brick wall. All muscle. God.
“That's it,” Steve encourages him, two thick fingers grazing his tight hole between his cheeks, making him shiver bonelessly, “see? That wasn't so hard. Just be good. Lemme look at you.”
Bucky’s so distracted that he doesn't even snip at Steve for doing much more than looking at him. He quivers, head to toe, without a single coherent thought in his head. "Steve," he pleads.
"Jus' lemme look," he reiterates, his voice a delicious purr and his hands dangerous paws, hitting him exactly where it counts.
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luna-rainbow · 10 months
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Amygdala and the super soldier serum
I read this interesting meta about Steve's brain changes post-serum, specifically this bit:
Steve’s brain is smarter and faster, the neurons have a longer life span, the hippocampus — that’s your memory storage — is nice and healthy; whatever. But then they said that the part of Steve’s brain that increased the most in mass and synaptogenesis was the amygdala.
So I had to be a nerd and crack open a Neuroanatomy textbook. Accordingly, the amygdala forms part of the limbic system (which I've briefly talked about in another meta), one of the key parts of the brain that governs memory, emotions, and by extension, behaviour. It serves a role not only in creating and regulating emotions, but also in recognising facial and verbal cues for emotions.
Onward for super soldier angst!(?)
Neuroanatomy is still an evolving field so our understanding of amygdala function is still immature. There are multiple areas to the amygdala, but the main ones are:
Basolateral: this is the largest part of the amygdala and receives information from higher-order sensory cortical areas and the association cortex. In plain English, this area links sensory input (e.g. music, objects, etc) with particular emotions. I think this is what the original meta was describing -- a simple stimulus could be so much more intense for Steve (and presumably for other super soldiers too) because it would bring on an emotional response. The pure joy of a tasting vanilla, the melancholy of the smell of rain, the nostalgia of old music, the grief of seeing the Howlies' pictures. And because this area draws from the association cortex as well, I would presume the more he has a particular emotional response to a stimulus, the more it becomes reinforced -- so going to the museum to see Bucky and the Howlies again and again reinforces the sense of grief he associates with them...and that's what stopped him in his tracks when he saw Bucky with his mask off.
Central: this area is key in mediating an emotional response, and both receives and sends information to the autonomic system, which controls things like heart rate/blood pressure/breathing rate/"gut feelings". It plays a key role in fear conditioning. It forms a central part of the rewards pathway, meaning it often serves a role in addiction and (on the flip side) depression. It also forms part of the pain regulation pathways. This may mean Steve has a strong physiological response to stimuli he associates with threats, regardless of whether or not he can control his own emotional response, i.e. even though he is used to explosions and gunshots and he knows, rationally, he can deal with them, this area might still kicks his heart rate and blood pressure up and make him feel dread. This makes me wonder whether the same amygdala development applies to the other super soldiers. For example, the Siberian Winter Soldiers had a very heightened fight-or-flight response, and similarly with Walker. It also begs the question of whether the heightened fear and reward pathways were used for Bucky's conditioning. E.g. Bucky's look of terror when he was trapped under the beam on the Helicarrier, but after Steve freed him, he was still intent on finishing the mission, because he was conditioned to think not finishing the mission was worse than dying. A lot of headcanons also involve Bucky being given drugs of addiction by Hydra -- and while I think the neuroanatomy of addiction is still not well understood, this could mean that quitting those drugs are more difficult for super soldiers once they became dependent on them. (Also, my headcanon is that the other super soldiers get a kick out of hurting people and post-serum, that reward pathway goes into overdrive and it becomes an addictive action for them.) And also, another area that is still developing, the pain regulation pathway being affected could also mean either more or less chronic pain issues, and likely a different emotional response to pain.
Basomedial nucleus: I thought I'd throw this in here because even though it wasn't mentioned in the neuroanatomy book, it is mentioned in this article. This area is thought to have a role in motivational behaviours under the influence of sex hormones, and in combination with the olfactory (sense of smell) processing being part of the amygdala structure and this apparently being a big factor in animal sexual behaviours...make of that what you will, A/B/O fic writers!
I think most places where I've read about the amygdala points to it being a primal center for emotions, i.e. the emotions that are key to our survival, and fear being a major part of it, triggering the fight-or-flight response. I think this means -- and I think it's fairly well-backed by canon -- that super soldiers innately have a heightened response to threatening stimuli, and because most of them are skilled, enhanced and trained, they respond to threat with aggression.
What's key here is that emotional regulation is done by higher centers outside the amygdala (frontal cortex). What that means is that the person has to make a conscious, cognitive effort to override their instincts for aggression. I think it says a lot about Steve and Bucky that they do keep a handle on their emotions, despite the over-development of their amygdala -- I think it also is in keeping with headcanons about Steve secretly having a huge anxiety problem under his stoic demeanour. We never see Steve lashing out, and the only time we see Bucky lashing out was when he got flashbacks to his arm being amputated. In a way...it's even more amazing that Bucky is as placid as he is, because despite having his memories wiped and therefore being only able to depend on primal emotions to guide him, he still has enough cognitive control to control his fears.
I also wanted to briefly address the "bleeding heart" part of the original meta (which was kinda what prompted this dive down the rabbit hole). As mentioned above, amygdala deals with primal emotions like joy and fear and anger, while some of the other "emotions" listed in the meta - sympathy and guilt and sense of duty and altruism - they are high level cognitions. I am inclined to think that Steve's empathy didn't change after the serum -- he just remained the same empathetic person he always was (although he might feel the emotions more keenly), which helped him be a better super soldier than the Winter Soldiers and Walker, and probably helped him keep a handle on the instinctive aggression.
Lastly, I just wanted to touch on grief. The neuroanatomy of grief is complex, and involves many different networks of emotions, autonomic responses, memory, and sensory processing. This study is interesting in that it identifies that increased functional connections in the amygdala is associated with a more protracted grief response and development of depressive symptoms. So yes...it is quite possible that Steve's more developed amygdala (and Bucky's too, but we shan't talk about The Movie that Does Not Exist) means he feels sadness more intensely, for longer, and the abnormal reward pathways might send him down a depressive or self-destructive spiral where his perceived reward is by doing something self-sacrificing.
One last thing (I promise this is final) the amygdala is also involved in REM sleep, aka dreaming. Theories are varied, but there is thought that being the fear/stress centre, the amygdala likely has a major role in generating nightmares.
Now put that together with two super soldiers living with PTSD and one canonically waking up from a nightmare...
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barbwritesstuff · 3 months
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Barb! Did you know that the first full moon of the year is called a wolf moon by some? Apparently it's because wolves are more howly in the wintertime 🐺🌕
Yes! All the full moons have names. I personally like the pink moon and the worm moon because they sound so weird. 💙
I'll probably make a special post about my werewolf stuff on the wolf moon. That might be fun.
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bedlamsbard · 4 months
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I rotate my hyperfixations like seasons and it's Steve Time so is there a thing in home that you expected more ppl to notice and have been waiting to talk about?
Nobody in the SSR believes Steve.
It's not that most people still believe he's lying to them, either maliciously or because he was brainwashed, but the frozen in ice/time travel story is so wild that no one can actually get their heads around it. Even Howard doesn't believe him subconsciously, back in his lizard hindbrain and his gut, as much as he believes him otherwise.
Everyone knows that something really awful happened to Steve, but the thing is -- it's the worst war in human history, all of the Howling Commandos were POWs in a Hydra slave labor camp, there are atrocities being committed on a daily basis, the SSR and the 107th have been on the front lines of the Western Front of the European theatre for years now and the Howlies often operated behind enemy lines. "Something really awful" is not exactly exceptional in any way, and from their perspective Steve was only missing for a month. He's different from how he was the last time they saw him, but not in any way that can only be explained away by "he was frozen in ice for sixty-seen years and then got slapped back in time by an alien." Subconsciously it's very explicable with "his best friend died in front of him, less than a week later he deliberately crashed a plane laden with bombs while thinking he was going to die, and then he made his way back to Allied territory through occupied Europe. met a girl along the way and married her on pretty short notice."
And the thing is...that happened all the time in WWII. Literally all the time! All parts of it! There's nothing weird about it; everyone in the SSR probably knows a couple of people who experienced most or all of that, if not experienced parts of it themselves, and consciously or subconsciously making that assumption about Captain America is extremely believable and even relatable. There's a reason it's the cover story for Steve's return.
The problem is, of course, that that's not what actually happened to Steve.
Back up in the twenty-first century, no one who's actually met Steve thinks he's lying about what happened to him (though it's a feature in various conspiracy theories), but that's because by 2012 everyone had had sixty-seven years to get used to the idea of Tragically Lost Captain America. Especially back in 2012, you met Steve and you knew that something was just ever so slightly off about him, because he just didn't have the body language or other cues that someone born in 1984 rather than 1918 would have. (In MCU canon Steve and Natasha are the same age with a five month difference once you subtract the icebox years, if you go with a 2012 defrosting date.) In 1945 he has 2018 body language, mostly, but otherwise he hasn't visibly changed. He doesn't look six years older and the body language and other cues can be explained away with "his best friend died, he crash-landed an airplane, and he had to make his way back through occupied territory." Because, again, this happened all the time.
It's a point of extreme stress for Steve that no one in the SSR -- including Peggy, the Howlies, Howard, and Phillips -- believes him. Steve is not the kind of person people often disbelieve, and he's really not used to being disbelieved by these specific people. Going into the ice and waking up sixty-seven years later is the single defining experience of Steve's life, and having most of the people he loves more than anything else in the world not believe him is absolutely awful for him. It's almost worse that they're not doubting him openly anymore, but he can tell that they don't really believe him. As he tells Natasha in Chapter 7, "You can know something and not believe it." The people in the SSR who are in on the secret might know it -- but not one of them really, down in their guts, believes it.
(Peggy actually does think he's lying, but she can't figure out about what or if it's malicious or brainwashing. That's also extremely stressful for Steve, because it's Peggy. And the thing is -- he is lying! There are actually a host of things he's either lying about or concealing and two of them are very, very personal both to him and to the SSR. So that doesn't help either.)
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