Winter Soldier raises Tony Stark (AU)
When Bucky Barnes is sent to kill the Starks, he does so easily until he sees their baby son in the back seat. Unable to kill him, he escapes with the child.
Living a life on the run, Bucky slowly breaks out of his Hydra conditioning and raises the boy as his own. As Tony grows, their bond only grows stronger, even as Bucky stops ageing.
@words-writ-in-starlight !!!!! This would be an excellent au
kaleenjackson asked: I just wanted to say thank you for your fantastic posts. Every day I look forward to what crazy shit you have to say. Do you think you could tell us any stories about meeting any of the Howling Commandos for the first time?
well, dumdum dougan threw a nazi at me. that’s how we met. it was mid-fight, and i was a little pissed, because i wasnt expecting an angry german to come flying at my face at that particular moment. but we were a little busy trying to stay alive at that point, so mostly i just swore at dumdum and kept fighting.
the rest of them i met in the prison camp. dumdum, gabe, and morita were all technically members of the 107th, but i didn’t really talk to them at all until we were locked up together. falsworth was part of a british parachute brigade who wound up in the same camp as we did, and dernier was part of the french resistance as a spy and explosives expert. we all got tossed in the same cell together because we were the troublemakers of the captured troops. we kept inciting chaos.
which really backfired on them. because by putting all the crazies together, they just made it easier for us to conspire.
so we stole some supplies and blew up a hydra colonel.
they did not like that.
after that we became pretty close. there’s nothing like detonating nazis to bring friends together.
War veterans group shot
#lol i love it#steve rogers and diana would be the bestest of buds#think of all the times she’d be like DIANA YES and he’d be like STEVE YES and then#they’d give each other a little nod of mutual respect#also think about diana pulling bucky out of his ptsd like she did for charlie#not with anything overt but just simple acknowledgement and sympathy#also imagine her and logan killing time by sparring for funsies#or even she’d show him some super extra amazon moves#and he’d be like I DON’T GOT THAT KINDA FLEXIBILITY LADY#and then they’d be doing stretches at dawn#and btw throughout steve trevor would be behind her with a sign that says I’M WITH HER (via @ifeelbetterer)
(via ifeelbetterer)
everyone acts like bucky was the troublemaker in the steve/bucky relationship but steve picked fights with everything that moved and bucky went to a science convention for fun
#i still have no idea how people even draw that conclusion#practically every time we see them interact in catfa#it’s steve trying to fight someone too big for him#and bucky going oh god not again and pulling him out:#that dude in the alley#military enlistment requirements#the entire german army#the red skull#bucky just keeps saving his dumb ass#the moment steve tries to do something too big for him without bucky there#he crash lands a plane into the fucking arctic and DIES
(via cthulhu-with-a-fez)
Anonymous asked: I would love more howling commando hijinks!
oh, how to pick just one…
well, here’s a story about a plane. one steve did not actually jump out of.
a rare tale indeed.
if youve ever been in the military–any branch, really–you’d know that everyone in every branch thinks their branch is best. this is not a new thing, and it was certainly going strong during wwii. mostly it just meant that if a bunch of marines wandered into an army bar there would be a fight, but honestly it was all in good fun, just a way to blow off steam.
so of course there was a friendly rivalry between us howlies and the pilots we hung around with. most of the pilots and crews we knew were transport guys, not bombers, but we got around more than most units and wound up spending a few weeks stationed near the 97th bombardment group. the 97th was made of b-17s, these huge bomber planes called flying fortresses–and they earned the name, those birds were basically the tanks of the sky. they ran a 10 man crew, and we got friendly with the spectacular idiots of the Pistol Packin Mama. as you can tell from the name of their plane, the were exactly the kind of guys who would get along with a group of people called the Howling Commandoes.
but rivalries being what they were, pranks happened.
the pistol packers fired the opening salvo. merrifield, Mama’s copilot, was probably the mastermind behind it; he was a good tempered guy who never passed on a pun. which was why for the first prank, the pistol packers stole all our underwear. haha, commandoes.
such an affront could not stand. we put shoe polish on the rims of their headsets, and they came off mission with black rings on the sides of their faces. they hid dead fish in our barracks. we salted their coffees.
the usual nonsense.
but then we came back one night to discover that every one of our footlockers had been painted with ‘EAT IT.’
and that, my friends, sparked a whole new wave of stupidity.
morita was the genius behind our retaliation. during wwii, VD was a major concern, and condoms were widely available for any soldier who wanted or needed them. each of us went separately and got as many as we could get our hands on. steve’s face was red enough he couldve been used to flag down a plane. the quartermasters probably thought us howlies were about to host the biggest orgy camp had ever seen, but by the time each of us had contributed to the stash, we had some 300-odd condoms.
so that night we went and broke into the airfield. we were highly skilled troops, it wasnt that hard. gabe mumbled something about using our skills for evil, but soon enough we had found the Pistol Packin Mama, all glorious 104 feet of her.
she’d taken a few hits on their last run, and was awaiting maintenance before she went up again. luckily for us, the repair crews were a little swamped, and it would be a few days before they got to her. so we climbed aboard and set to work.
anything we could fit a condom over got wrapped. joysticks, armrests, controls–all of it got covered in latex. the remaining 250 condoms we inflated. theres nothing more manly than a bunch of soldiers sitting around in a bomber blowing up condoms. and after about four hours of macho dick balloon making, we were near ready pass out from lack of oxygen. but we’d also managed to about half-fill the Mama with condom balloons.
our work done, we sneaked back to the barracks and fell asleep.
as i understand it, merrifeld realized he’d forgotten a lucky picture of his girl inside the Mama, and went back to pick it up. he opened the hatch and a rain of condoms descended on him, which attracted attention from pretty much everyone else nearby. the pistol packers got crap about it from everyone for weeks. eventually, they came to us and declared truce. as a gesture of good faith, steve offered to do some nose art for them.
so steve painted the Pistol Packin Mama. and how a man who cant ask for condoms without his face turning the color of a stoplight can paint a larger than life half naked lady on a plane calm as you like, i will never understand.
sentient-teapot asked: "Accidentally capture the wrong base"? .....tell us more? Please?
this was before we got agent agent back as our handler, and part of the reason why he finally turned up for work again.
so the thing about clint is that hes 1. not a good listener and 2. hes deaf. mostly. these are separate issues because being mostly deaf doesnt stop him from understanding what people are saying most of the time, it just means that you have to be sure he knows youre trying to communicate with him before you say something. (and also that you should make sure your mask doesnt cover your mouth so he can lipread, but whatever.)
we had this agent—incredibly boring guy in the worst sort of way–who’d requested clint, nat, and i for an op. nat and i were supposed to hit two of the leaders of a crime syndicate while clint got the third. easy peasy, kill some guys, free some hostages, small country liberated, total cakewalk. but the agent running the op and the briefing took FOREVER. he was talking us through like none of us had ever overthrown a country before, explaining every minute detail. nat and i could just kinda zone out and let things wash over us, picking up the pertinent details, but clint cant really do that. his hearing aids help but they weren’t perfect, so he also had to be kinda lipreading just to keep up. which takes a lot of focus for incredibly boring info. naturally he zoned out too.
which was how he missed the fact that his guy was not actually staying in his incredibly fortified base-slash-villa. his hostages were, but he wasn’t.
luckily, they covered this in the briefing packet we were each provided with, which was a mere 362 pages.
so obviously none of us actually read it.
we poked through, got blueprints, guard schedules, alarm systems and so on, but didnt bother with most of the rest of it.
they dropped us in the air over each of our respective targets, clint last. i had the cliffside resort, nat had the downtown headquarters, and clint had the base-villa. nat and i handled ours like pros, of course, corpses everywhere, and clint did too–mowed right through the security, got the hostages, and then called in that his syndicate leader wasnt there, what the hell, who gave me this bad intel.
which was when he was informed that the big bad wasnt IN the villa, he was on the ISLAND ACROSS from the villa, and that hed been supposed to covertly infiltrate the beach house there and quietly capture him. ideally without ever setting foot in the villa; he was just supposed to steal a boat from the villa docks and not get spotted by security.
unfortunately, clint had blown up all the watercraft at the villa’s docks to keep syndicate members from escaping. which meant he still had to get to the island and capture this guy, but now there were no motorboats left. and if this syndicate jerkoff got away, fury was gonna have his hide.
and thats how clint wound up launching a one-man amphibious assault on an international crime syndicate from a paddleboat.
and also why clint reads his briefings now.
King of Memes
Or, how Tony Found Out About Bucky’s Blog.
Tony couldn’t seep. Sometimes he managed a few hours if he was tired enough, so usually he went to the gym and worked out until he was exhausted. Tonight, though, he found the gym already occupied: Barnes, with his hair tied up, working steadily at the heavy bag. Normally Tony would make an awkward comment and leave him to it, but instead he just heads for the opposite side of the gym. After setting up at one of the far treadmills, Tony worked his way to a easy run. Barnes was laying his fists rhythmically into the bag, and the quiet thumping was sort of strangely soothing. Between the running and the thumping, Tony slipped into a near-trancelike state.
And then Barnes let out an ungodly howl, drew back his left fist, and slammed it straight through the heavy bag with a roar of, “DIE A THOUSAND BURNING DEATHS!”
Tony fell off the treadmill, scrambled to his feet, and booked it to the elevator.
kingofmemes posted:
holy shit you guys there was a spider on my punching bag !!! thanks to my many years of combat experience & martial arts training things are okay now
Posted at 4:47 AM, 37294 notes
