mamabarnes

[mamabarnes]

Muse Stressors Checklist

Bold the stressors that your muse has experienced Italicise the stressors that are verse-dependent

athletic injury | breaking their arm / leg | childhood abuse | child leaving home | conflict in the workplace | death of a child / parent / partner / other close family member / close friend | death threats | dismissal from / loss of job | divorce / breakup | drug / alcohol addiction | earthquake | estrangement from child / parent / partner / other close family member| excessive paperwork | failure to complete school | falling on an icy sidewalk | fire | flood | foreclosure of mortgage or loan | harassment | homelessness | hurricane | imprisonment | job change | long-term unemployment | major / minor violation of the law | marriage | marital reconciliation | military combat | mortgage / other loan | moving house | physically attacked | poor health of a child / parent / partner / other close family member / close friend | pregnancy | retirement | road traffic accident | robbery | severe personal injury / illness | sexual assault | sexual difficulties | significant change in eating habits | significant change in financial state | significant change in living conditions | significant change in sleeping habits | terrorist attack | threatened with physical violence | trouble with in-laws | unplanned pregnancy / abortion | unsafe working conditions | vandalism | workplace stress

Tagged by: no one Tagging: anyone who wants to!

[mamabarnes]

“Is everything okay, baby?”

Winifred tilted her head with a frown, reaching to cup her son’s cheek and study him. Concern was evident in her expression.

@mamabarnes liked for a lyric starter from Bucky

“Where is the real me? I’m lost and it kills me, inside…”

[mamabarnes]

“We’ll give him another few minutes and then we’ll give him a quick call, but I imagine he’s probably on his way home now,” Winnie smiled, pottering about the kitchen and fixing a few last minute things up.

@illbringthechaosmagic liked for a starter

It’s a rare moment of down-time for Winifred Barnes. She’d managed to wangle the shift at the bar off, on account of it being James’ birthday, and he should be home from his own work shift within an hour or so. He’s a good boy, works so hard to help keep them afloat alongside her own earnings, even after his accident, and she only wishes she could have gotten him more for his birthday besides a tiny cake and a few meagre presents.

The doorbell rings, startling her out of her thoughts. It must be some of James’ friends, she tells herself. She’d asked them to come early, as a sort of surprise party for him.

[mamabarnes]

“We’ll manage,” she said, and in truth, she wasn’t sure if she was reassuring him or herself. She’d coped as a single mother when George had been dragged off to war, and she would manage now. Winifred Barnes was tougher than she looked, and though grief had hit her like a hammer, still she would soldier on, “Just...keep an eye out for James. I feel like he’s going to need someone like you to keep him afloat for a little bit Steven.”

@captainrogers-thepatriot liked for a starter

Winifred was still in shock as they returned home. To turn and look at the empty armchair where George had always sat broke her heart, and she had to swallow roughly to bite back the tears. Getting overly emotional wouldn’t do her any good now. George was gone, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had to remain strong for her family, look after them, let them grieve, and begin to figure out how best to feed a family of five without her husband’s wage. James was only sixteen, and Grace, the youngest, only six.

[mamabarnes]

“It ain’t a race, sweetheart,” she soothes. He’s still young, after all, and there will be plenty of time for him to settle down, for Becca too. Winnie had been married at eighteen, and with James born by nineteen, but there was no rush for her children. If they wanted to settle down, they would. Drying his cheeks a little with the sleeve of her cardigan, she reassures, “Of course.”

mamabarnes​:

Leaning over, she presses a kiss to his temple, gently brushing the hair back from his face. She gives his hand another squeeze, a reassuring smile on her face. She knows he wants to have a family himself some day, has spoken about it, and she knows as well that he would be a good father. He’s always been so good with his sisters, with any of the kids that run around their block, “That’s ok, honey, I ain’t planning on goin’ anywhere any time soon.”

                       “Maybe Becca is gonna be quicker than me,” he jokes, though it stings a little. He’s older than her, he doesn’t want her to have kids first. On the other hand, a niece or a nephew would be fantastic, too. Argh, this just fucking sucks. He rubs his eyes briefly, then looks down at the tabletop. “Could you tell dad about it when he’s home from work? I don't… wanna do it.” It’s been hard enough to tell his ma.

[mamabarnes]

His eagerness was sweet, but perhaps, Winnie thought in amusement, they might have to work a little on handling the ingredients with care. Then again, George was an absolute disaster when it came to eggs, and he was a full grown adult, so perhaps it ran in the family. Chuckling, she reached for a cloth to clean his hands and mop up the mess.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, nothing we can’t clear up.”

mamabarnes​:

Winifred smiled fondly, her hand resting on her son’s back as he spooned the excess flour back into the bag with just as much concentration. Once he’d done so, she gave him another hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head with a gentle look. Sliding the bowl of flour away, she grabbed another bowl and the eggs, “You can crack some, okay?”

                       “Yes!” he shouted, excited. His mother had to show him how to crack the eggs – not too much force but also not too gently – and once it was his turn, Bucky took one of the white eggs and whacked it against the edge of the bowl. Nothing really happens except for a small crack in the shell. He frowned, tried it again with more force––and promptly smashed it. Egg white was running over his fingers, mixed with little pieces of shell and yolk. “Oops,” he said.

[mamabarnes]

She was such a sweet little thing, so small and darling, and Winifred looked forward to every moment she got to spend with her, did whatever she could to spoil her, although she couldn’t afford much. Still, she managed what she could, and the sounds of her giggles lightened her heart, “Of course, sweetheart. What would you like to play?”

mamabarnes​:

“Hello there, sweet girl,” Winifred found herself murmuring, a smile on her lips as the little girl touched a hand to her cheek. She placed her own hand lightly over it, turning her head a little to kiss the tiny hand. She remembered when her own children were so tiny, although years have passed since that time, and it’s like a blast from the past to see her.

-

“Hi, Nanna,” she greeted, voice soft but sincere. Her Mum had ensured that when they got home, they connected with her Ada’s family. Out of the three of them, he was the only one that had living relatives left. Margo had grown comfortable around her Grandmother, and her Aunts on the occasions that she saw them too. A light giggle escaped as her Nana kissed her hand. “Nanna play?” 

[mamabarnes]

“I’m right here, baby,” she murmurs, letting her arm slide around his shoulders to tug him to her chest, just as she had always done when he was a child, any time he’d had a nightmare or hurt himself, or just needed her comfort. Of course, he wasn’t so small anymore, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. He’d never be too big for her to coddle.

@wyntered asked: “I’ve been tossed around enough.”

“You deserve a break, baby,” Winnie says softly, and she moves over to her son, one hand reaching out to gently brush the hair back from his face, ducking her head to kiss his hair. He’s not a baby anymore, but he’ll always be her baby, and she’d do anything for him.

[mamabarnes]

[piss off meme] "Mrs. Barnes... I'm so sorry. I could've... should've jumped after Bucky. There's a possibility I could've saved him. But the mission would've helped save thousands more in Europe."

"Don't say that Steven."

The handkerchief is gripped tight in her hand, knuckles white, and there's a lump in her throat that she doesn't think has ever fully gone away since her boy came home with the draft letter and an uncertainty in his gaze that she'd never seen before. And Steven looks so guilty, and part of her wants to be angry. Wants to be angry that he didn't bring her James home with him. But she can't. She can't be angry. Because from the moment James had brought him into her house when they were both small, Winifred had considered him one of her own, and while it might not be by blood, Steven is as much her son as James.

Tears in her eyes, she draws herself up to her full height (It's not much, Steven was taller than her even before he got big and bulky, but there's a presence about her that supercedes her size) and reaches to hold his face between her hands, locking their gazes, "If you'd jumped...we would have lost both of you, Steven. You did what you had to do, my sweet boy."

[mamabarnes]

@therxdeemxr continued from here

“Thank you, sweetheart, that would be lovely,” Winnie smiled tiredly, reaching her free hand out to gently caress her son’s cheek, her other hand keeping the newest and youngest member of their family nestled against her chest, dozing away. It had been far from an easy pregnancy and delivery, and it had really taken it out of her, but it seemed her sweet boy was always willing to help.

[mamabarnes]

The list was quite substantial. After all, as children they’d run all around the streets of Brooklyn, causing mayhem, and Winnie was sure they likely had a story for every street corner. Although of course, she didn’t know everywhere that they’d went.

Escape

@mamabarnes

He wasn’t sure what possessed him to do it. But the first mission they sent him on...he ran. He avoided killing his target and ran, unsure of why or where he was going. He went through the motions until he found himself in Brooklyn...it felt familiar but it was also so alien.

He couldn’t place it in his memories. Not that he had any memories to begin with.

But he let his feet carry him, unknowingly going to an apartment that belonged to a family he once had...one that had buried an empty casket only five years previously. He reached the door and was at a loss for what to do. Should he knock? Or run the other way? His programming was screaming at him to finish the mission or return to Hydra so they could fix him.

But was he really broken?

Maybe he was...because he knocked on the door despite it being the middle of the night.

[mamabarnes]

Starter Call!

[mamabarnes]

send me questions you have about my character!

anything and everything. favorites. thoughts on people, on events. what they would do in a certain situation. how things would be different if something had/hadn’t happened. simple questions, complex questions. have at it!

[mamabarnes]

“The doc reckons I’m about ten weeks along, so that means I’ll be due around March,” Winnie preens, her hands coming to smooth over her stomach again over her blouse. There’s no bump, not yet, but she can’t wait for that, to have the physical proof of the family that they’re starting, “What do you reckon, boy or girl?”

mamabarnes​:

Winnie can’t help the excited squeal that leaves her lips as he swings her around, giggling and looping her arms around his shoulders. They’re going to have their own family, and already she can’t wait, “The doctor confirmed it this morning, but I had a suspicion for a while.”

George places her down and he cannot help but smile, he was so thankful for this chance. “Oh Winnie. This is so exciting. I cannot wait to tell all the boys at work that we are having our own family!”

[mamabarnes]

Winnie can’t help the excited squeal that leaves her lips as he swings her around, giggling and looping her arms around his shoulders. They’re going to have their own family, and already she can’t wait, “The doctor confirmed it this morning, but I had a suspicion for a while.”

mamabarnes​:

@sanguinibus from here

She’s been busting to tell him all day, but she hasn’t had the chance, and now finally, the moment is presenting itself. It feels like nothing can get her down right now, not even the news they hear from day to day of the war waging in Europe. Those thoughts are far from her mind right now, because she’s young, so blissfully in love with her husband, and excitement trips through her at her news. She reaches for him, taking his hands and beaming as she guides them to her belly.

“I’m pregnant.”

“Winnie!” He cheers happily as he all but picks her up swinging her slightly as he places kisses all over her, “Ah! I am so excited Winnie! How long have you known?”

[mamabarnes]

@sanguinibus from here

She’s been busting to tell him all day, but she hasn’t had the chance, and now finally, the moment is presenting itself. It feels like nothing can get her down right now, not even the news they hear from day to day of the war waging in Europe. Those thoughts are far from her mind right now, because she’s young, so blissfully in love with her husband, and excitement trips through her at her news. She reaches for him, taking his hands and beaming as she guides them to her belly.

“I’m pregnant.”

[mamabarnes]

Thread Idea:

There’s an old apartment in Brooklyn. The building, so they say, dates back to the 1900s or thereabouts, and is filled with history. Those in the know might recognise it as the apartment where James Buchanan Barnes, best friend and right hand man of Captain America, grew up. The apartment is still owned by the Barnes family, although the family name itself has changed in the long years since. They’ve never sold it. Some call it sentiment, and maybe it is. But those familiar with the building suggest a second motive. Those who have entered the apartment in the years since the death of the Barnes matriarch have found it...odd. Things seem to move by themselves, voices or footsteps occasionally heard, and once or twice, a passerby has looked up from the street to see a face in the window.

Ghosts aren’t real, they say, but there are those who gaze at the door and wonder if Winifred Barnes is still waiting, even in death, for her son to come home.