#1930s steve rogers

[ssoupernova]

Christmas for Steve and Bucky

(I love the 20s, 30s and 40s so here's some information about what Christmas was like during this time and the things Steve and Bucky wouldn't recognise/be familiar with)

In their childhoods 'A Christmas Carol' was very popular, and decorating trees with handmade items and electric lights was common. Handmade Christmas cards complete with Christmas cookies would have been a very common gift. (Plus I bet Steve would continue to give them out now).

Oranges were an incredibly popular stocking stuffer during the 20s and 30s and represented an affordable luxury for many Americans.

Steve and Bucky would probably be shocked by how early people began decorating for Christmas, or seeing Christmas things in stores early. During their childhood trees were often only decorated on Christmas Eve.

Christmas tree lighting ceremonies were firmly established during their childhood so watching Christmas tree lights turned on in public parks and places would be familiar to them, typically accompanied by Christmas carols and choirs.

The Rockettes were still rather new but performed their Christmas Spectacular for years during Steve and Bucky's youth.

They likely wouldn't be familiar with advent calendars, which only gained popularity in America after World War 2. They also probably wouldn't know about the Nutcracker, which only made its way to the US in 1944. Candy canes also weren't popular until 1950s when they were mass produced so Steve and Bucky likely wouldn't associate them as heavily with Christmas as they are now.

During the 1920s Santa was referred to as both Santa and St Nicholas, so it's likely the two would use the names interchangeably.

Collecting and displaying snow babies was popular and they are adorable! They were a staple in Christmas decor. Crepe paper was very popular, including instructions on making crepe dresses for one time use!

Steve Rogers would never have heard 'Rudoloh the Red Nosed Reindeer ' before. He may have been familiar with the character, but that's unlikely (however infinitely cuter if he knew the character and got to hear the song for the first time).

Rudolph only became a household name after the song, but in 1939 was a part of a department stores promotions. Rudolph was the main character of a small childrens story they published that year. The most likely way for Steve to know about it is through Bucky and him receiving the book when buying gifts for someone else, maybe Bucky's sister.

Steve and Bucky may have been familiar with the radio show of "The Cinnamon Bear" a children's series where twins try find their missing Christmas star with the help of a teddy bear. Very cute, I could imagine they'd find listening to it now very nostalgic.

There's also a fairly solid chance that Steve and Bucky had been to a white elephant party before, as they have been fairly popular since 1901.

I definitely need to read/write some fics about Christmas time for them, and adapting to more modern Christmas's djekskek

[elkleggs]

[brooklyn-sgr]

Prospect Park (c. 1934)

This is one of Cpt. Rogers' earliest rendition of Prospect Park in Brooklyn, New York City. Many of Rogers' sketchbooks feature local scenes, such as this sketch, or even local residents. This particular drawing can be found deep within the sketchbook and is surrounded by numbers and other scribbles. The other half of the page has dark lines as if Rogers was trying to scribble out a drawing. That drawing is still undergoing restoration in our offices. This newly recovered drawing has sustained numerous levels of damage due to poor preservation. Whether the poor preservation is from Rogers himself or thanks to his former neighbor's technique is up for debate. This sketchbook was found at the bottom of the stack with the covers nearly ripped off due to friction. With some examination, some dark stains on the cover, along with various pages, are from blood, as if from a bleeding nose.

[nerds-yearbook]

In September of 1930, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes met and became best friends. (Captain America: First Vengeance, online comic

[frost-queen]

Shameless (Reader x James 'Bucky' Barnes)

Requested by: @vviolynn,Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne

Summary: [Set in the 1930's academy life] Bucky and you have known each other for years but always end up in physical fights with him till your best friend points out that she thinks you like each other, changing your entire perspective. A classic enemies to lovers romance.

Heavy rain clattered on the stone buildings of the academy. Standing under the archway you tried to look if it would rain for any longer. School books clutched to your chest. A girl beside you was tripling impatient. You looked over your shoulder feeling a hand on your shoulder. A boy in uniform gave your shoulder a gentle push to squeeze himself between you and the impatient girl. He didn’t hesitate running into the rain. His friend following him close by.

Water splashed up from the puddles they ran in. Shouting a bit in displeasing to reach across the open courtyard to get to the other building. The academy was a beautiful historical artifact. Several buildings scattered around. Some connecting others not. An open courtyard in between the different entrances. Water droplets falling hard in the fountain.

The impatient girl became more impatient. Tripling in place as if she needed to go desperately to the bathroom. – “Ohh.” – she cried out hesitant if she should use her books to keep her neatly tied hair together. You held your hand out to feel how hard the rain was coming down. From behind you, you heard more footsteps. Rushed as they echoed off the stone walls. Before you knew it, you got pushed. Stumbling into the open rain, getting wet in the matter of seconds. Hearing him laugh loud, you turned round with a sour face.

“James!” – you called out clenching your hand. James ‘Bucky’ Barnes was laughing so hard his back arched a bit. Glaring at him, you stomped firm towards him. He was still laughing when you grabbed him by his tie. Pulling hard at it, he gulped when you nearly choked him. You dragged him into the rain with you. He sighed loud as the rain fell down on him. Opening his arms he looked at his uniform getting wet. – “That is what you get Barnes!” – you scolded as you were soaking wet already.

He clenched his jaw, glaring furious at you. – “You were going to get wet anyways.” – he replied mockingly to downsize you. As a result you slapped his hat off his head. His hat fell in a puddle. – “So were you!” – you responded not backing down. Bucky stared with wide eyes at his hat that was slowly getting wetter by the second he left it untouched. He picked the hat up in anger. You yelped when he grabbed you by the back of your neck, squeezing it. – “You are so going to pay for this!” – he said dragging you across the courtyard in the rain.

“Bucky let me go!” – you called out swaying your arms around. – “Do you have any idea how much this hat costed?” – he said loud, hinting to his formal school wear. One would resemble the uniforms you wore for war attire. Plain colors of brown and a dark forest green. The boys wearing a suit with a hat. The girls a forest green skirt with a white blouse, long socks, and black shiny shoes.

“Bucky let me go!” – you repeated as he still had you in a tight grip, dragging you through the rain. Having enough you stomped on his foot. Bucky immediately let go of you, hopping on one foot in pain. Seeing your chance you took off, but not before scooping up some water from the water fountain near you. Splashing the water in his face. Bucky got surprised, sighing so overly done with you. He started chasing you wanting to get his revenge. This was how it always was with Bucky and you.

For a few years now. The two of you always ended up in a physical fight for whatever reason. Always toying and taunting each other. You screamed loud when Bucky came chasing you. Running around benches and zigzagging to avoid getting caught by him. Someone whistled loud making Bucky stop. – “Buck! Hurry up. Class!” – one of his friends called out waving. Bucky groaned loud. – “This isn’t over Y/n!” – he shouted. You waved flirty at Bucky to tease him just that little bit more. Knowing how much you were toying with him that he couldn’t get you.

Bucky backed away, jogging over to his friend. The two of them ran through the puddles to one of the buildings. You ran to the other side as boys and girls were still separated. It was already a luck boys and girls were allowed to attend the same academy. You spurted inside glad to be out of the rain. You kept running in the hallways knowing you had lost a lot of time arguing and toying with Bucky.

Some girls were running as well trying to make it to class in time. Out of breath you rounded a corner seeing a swarm of girls waiting outside the classroom. Your friend waving you over. You slowed down panting to reach her. She took a tentative eye on you. – “You are soaking wet.” – she commented. – “Didn’t you run?” – she asked further. She was wet as well, but not as drenched as you. – “James.” – you breathed out letting her know enough.

“Are you guys still at it?” – she groaned rolling with her eyes. – “He pushed me in the rain.” – you said to justify your actions. She sighed once more, touching her forehead. – “You two are such children.” – she said lowly with a dismissive shake of her head. – “He’s the bigger child.” – you whispered to her when you heard a pair of heels click loudly against the stone floor. All the girls lined up by pair as the teacher walked past. She opened the door walking in first till you all went in. Ready for class to begin.

You sighed loud seeing it was still raining. – “What a grim day.” – you spoke holding your hand out to let the rain fall between your fingers. – “We still have to face it.” – your friend replied. You nudged her before running into the rain across the courtyard to head to the other building. She followed with a smile, catching up with you. The two of you ran as fast as you could. Water splashing up from the puddles you stepped in. Reaching the other side started both of you to laugh loud.

Brushing some droplets off your uniform, you followed her to the benches underneath the arched-way corridor that connected two buildings. At one of them were some boys sitting. They whistled loud for your attention when you walked past. – “Don’t be desperate John.” – Your friend called out with a smile. The boy grabbed his for his chest. – “Oh Carol you break my heart.” – he responded playfully. She laughed loud as they running over.

John threw his arm over Carol’s shoulder as David did over yours. Carol moved her shoulder, brushing his arm off her. – “Manners John.” – she said teasingly as you did the same. – “Oh Carol give my heart a break.” – he answered stabbing himself in the heart, falling a bit behind. Carol giggled loud. The boys followed Carol and you inside. You rounded the corner coming face to face with Steve. It startled him a bit as you noticed he was holding his hand by the wrist.

Steve smiled sheepishly. – “I’ve cut myself Y/n.” – he said nervously. You took his wrist, moving his cut finger closer to you. – “Do you perhaps have any bandages for me?” – he asked. You nodded pulling him back inside with you by his wrist. The other boys and Carol still following. You entered the dining room. Long tables lined up to have over two hundred students seated for diner. You sat yourself down on one of the long benches, sitting Steve beside you. Carol came sitting on the other side of you. 

John hovering over her as he had set his hands on the table in front of her. His two friends sitting across. – “What would you boys do without us girls.” – you said reaching in the pocket of your skirt. You took out a bandage pulling Steve’s finger closer to you. Beside you was Carol nudging John to give her some more space. John wouldn’t stop hovering over her as you were used by it now. The boys were always hanging around you girls since they knew how tentative you were to them.

Specially with those medical lessons you got. You blew gently on Steve’s cut seeing him get bashful. You then wrapped the bandage around his finger. – “You need a kiss on that Steve?” – Paul outed leaning with his hand against his jaw. Steve shot him a glare, kicking him underneath the table. Paul grunted flinching forwards avoiding a major hit against his knee. – “I’ve cut myself too Carol. I need a kiss as well.” – John said coming to sit beside her. He puckered up his lips as Carol punched him in the armpit.

“Jealous Paul?” -  you commented still holding Steve’s finger. Then out of the blue you got hit across the head with some papers. It made you immediately let go of Steve’s hand. Rubbing the back of your head you looked behind you to see who it was. Bucky was glaring seemingly to Steve when he noticed you staring, he started smirking. – “You still owed that Y/n.” – he answered with a mockingly smile. Bucky forced his way between Steve and you wanting to sit down. You rolled with your eyes as Steve scooted over. Bucky smiled grinningly at Steve before turning his posture to face you.

“My hat is ruined Y/n.” – he said coming to rest his chin on his knuckles. You pouted your lips mockingly. – “Poor Buck.” – you said sarcastically slapping his hand from underneath his chin. Bucky nearly lost his balance as some of the boys snorted loud. He grabbed you firmly by the chin, staring into your eyes with a hard stare. You stared right back at him, not backing down. Carol observed you closely, specially Bucky. – “You owe me a new hat Y/n. I’ll accept whatever payment you give me.” – he said smirking. – “Bite me.” – you responded as Bucky inhaled sharp through his nose.

The tension between your stare shooting through the roof. – “Alright, alright knock it off you two before we need more medical attention.” – John called out breaking it off. Bucky let go of your chin. You turned away from him. Bucky swallowed softly becoming aware of something. Carol kept a close eye on him, seeing the change in his eyes. The soft longing as it made her smile knowingly. – “Where are your manners Buck. Y/n is a girl.” – Paul said. Bucky smiled licking his upper lip briefly. – “She is an exception.” – he answered setting his elbows on the table to lean closer. He then glanced to the side, eying you. You wouldn’t give it any attention knowing how much it would stroke his ego.

Carol nudged you as you got up with her. – “Already leaving ladies?” – John asked. Carol hummed loud. Carol locked her arm with yours with a giggle. You let her pull you with her leaving the boys behind. Not only five seconds later got Bucky up, taking his leave as well. Carol lead you back outside standing under the arched-way ceiling of the corridor that connected this building to the next. – “Why are you smiling?” – you asked her confused.

She pressed her lips together making you even more curious. – “What? Is it about Steve?” – you asked seeing her shake her head. – “James.” – she laughed out. – “Buck? What about him?” – you answered confused. Carol came to a stop coming to stand before you. – “It is so obvious.” – she said making you quirk your brow up. – “What is?” – you replied unable to follow her thought train. Carol smiled sneakily as you demanded answers.

“What is?” – you called out. – “He likes you silly.” – she answered as your eyes widened. – “No he doesn’t.” – you snapped back in defense. Carol hummed loud. – “He so does Y/n you just don’t see it.” – she explained further. – “Why do you think he always taunts you?” – she asked. – “Cause he hates me?” – you answered wary. Carol shook her head. – “Cause he likes you Y/n! If he hated you, you’d be in the infirmary 24/7 but you never are. Sure you two get physical but never till someone is bleeding.”

Furrowing your brows you tried to follow her. – “I just saw the way he looked at you. Y/n I am telling you that man can’t breath without you.” – Carol exposed. – “And you feel the same way.” – she added as you took a step back into the rain. The rain sweetening your face as you were too stunned to even be bothered by it. Carol quirked her eyebrow up. – “Are you getting out of the rain?” – she asked seeing how stiff you stood. Getting soaking wet once more. – “Y/n!” – Carol turned her head seeing Steve rush over. – “Are you trying to catch a cold?” – he said worriedly, grabbing you by the wrist, pulling you back under the arched ceiling.

Carol turned her head seeing Bucky stand still at the end of the corridor. One hand in his pocket, staring at Steve worrying over you. – “three, two one…” – she whispered matching the exact pace Bucky got in motion. Heading your way. He grabbed your wrist pulling your arm upwards. – “I still expect payment for my hat Y/n.” – he said keeping his eyes on you. You slowly turned your head to look at him. You couldn’t even fight back.

Something inside of you had snapped, looking differently at him. Looking back at Carol you saw her nod and motion with her head. You wanted to test her theory out. You looked at Steve with a smile. – “I’ll keep good care of my health.” – you said feeling Bucky pull your arm more back. – “Did you hear me Y/l/n?” – he called out.

“I did James.” -  you answered pulling your arm down as it broke free from his grip. Bucky started to smile tauntingly. – “Good girl.” – he said patting you on the head. It annoyed you making you slap his hand off you. Bucky whistled loud snapping with his finger for Steve to follow him. Steve said goodbye to you before going after Bucky.

You watched them head towards their dorms as Carol came standing beside you. – “Told you. He is smitten with you, so smitten his jealousy became so clear.” – she told you with a smirk. Following Carol back, you couldn’t stop thinking about what she said. It was as if your gut got pulled out, twisted around, and put back. Everything felt out of sorts. You couldn’t even think properly off Bucky without feeling those darn butterflies tickle your insides.

You wanted to scream your lungs out. Everything felt wrong. The more you thought about him, the more your heart started yearning for him. In class you couldn’t keep your focus. Pricking yourself a few times in the finger while sewing. A good quality any lady should posses no matter the use for it. Carol had noticed how unfocused you were trying to get you to focus once more.

The rain had finally stopped when you walked back out after three more classes. You were walking alone as you noticed Bucky leaning against a wall. The moment you walked past he removed himself from against the wall, joining your side. He took you by the wrist, dragging you closer to the wall. Your back hit the wall as he came standing before you. – “You still owe me.” – he said eyeing you. You noticed he was wearing his hat again.

“Your hat seems fine.” – you commented with a teasing smile. Bucky chuckled. – “I still expect payment Y/n. So what will you pay me?” – he asked coming a bit closer. – “This.” – flapped out of your mouth before you even thought properly. Removing yourself from against the wall you stepped up to him. Grabbing him by his uniform, pulling him a bit down. Bucky gulped nervously when you looked at him with those eyes.

You tipped his hat off with a flick of your finger. Bucky glared but before he could do anything else had you kissed him. Bucky’s eyes widened slowly closing as he surrendered to you. His hands lowering on you, pressing gently onto your lower back. You felt him press you deeper against him, intensifying the kiss. He smiled against your lips slowly pulling away. – “How shameful of you Y/n.” – he whispered. – “Shut it Bucky.” – you said back kissing him again.

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[buckybarneswannabe]

Fic for @griminker

Steve and Bucky slow dance and it end up in an argument revealing feelings from

Years past .

—————————————————————————————————————

Are you still listening to the same song?” Bucky asked Steve walking into his room. Hearing the farmiliar hum of frank Sinatra fill the room . Steve chuckled, his gaze remaining fixed on the skyline of Brooklyn through the window.

"You still remember that?" he replied, amusement lacing his voice.

Turning away from the view, he faced Bucky with a nostalgic smile. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

“Why only 40s music though” Bucky asks, “You know more music has been created since then.”

Steve chuckled again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I know, I know," he said, "but there's something about the 40s music...it's like comfort food. Reminds me of home, before all this."

He shrugged with a lopsided grin. "Plus, have you heard some of the modern songs? They're... interesting”

“I think it’s good” Bucky remarks, shrugging.

Steve's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise.

"You do, huh?" he said, leaning against the windowsill. "Bucky Barnes, man out of time, likes modern music. Times have truly changed."

He smirked. "You going to try to get me to listen to some then?"

“If ya want” Bucky said with a smile.

Steve let out a dramatic sigh, feigning reluctance.

"Alright, lay it on me then," he said, gesturing for Bucky to start. He crossed his arms again, a playful challenge in his eyes. "Let's see if you can convert me to the ways of modern music."

“Not converting you just showing you” Bucky says siting next to Steve and opening his phone that stark had given him, he was still figuring out how to use it but Natasha had helped him make his way around Spotify.

Steve watched as Bucky opened his phone, the glow of the screen casting a faint light on his face. He had to admit, he was a bit intrigued. He nodded for Bucky to continue.

"Alright, show me what you've got, Buck," he said, turning his full attention to the phone.

“I’ll start you out easy, you know Lana del Rey?” Buck asks.

Steve shook his head, his expression a mix of curiosity and slight skepticism. "Lana... del Ray?" he repeated, the name foreign on his lips. "Can't say I've heard of her. Go on, play something."

“Okay pic a song, do you want ‘Margret’ or ‘chemtrails over country clubs?” Bucky replies.

"Hmm... Let's go with 'Chemtrails over Country Clubs,'" Steve replied, his curiosity piqued. He leaned back against the wall, ready to listen.

As the music began, Steve's attention fixated on the soft melody that filled the room. It was definitely different from the 40s tunes he was used to but something about the singer reminded him of Sinatra. but there was something captivating about it. The beat was slow, mellow, and almost dreamlike. The lyrics were poetic, and the singer's voice was sultry yet soothing.

“What do you think? I chose her cause she sounds old timey in this song i guess” Bucky says to Steve.

Steve nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Yeah, I can see what you mean," he said. "She's got that old-Hollywood vibe about her. It's different, but it's... nice."

He was genuinely enjoying the music. It felt like a bridge between the past and the present, something familiar yet new. He looked at Bucky, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Alright, maybe you're onto something here."

“It’s slow dance music. You know” Bucky says nudging Steve.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head in playful disbelief. "Slow dance music, huh?"

He considered Bucky's words for a moment before feigning a look of horror. "You're not about to ask me to dance, are you?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

“No..” Bucky says quietly because honestly, he was going to ask. It’s not like it would be a crazy ask they used to dance in the cold air of their old apartment to kitty kaling and Judy garland. For gods sake, Bucky even taught Steve how to dance because he couldn’t get a single girl at the bar to give him a chance.

Steve noticed the way Bucky's voice trailed off, the hint of hesitation. He saw the flicker of something in Bucky's eyes that he recognized all too well.

"You sure?" Steve asked, pushing off the wall to face Bucky. There was a gentle knowing smile on his face, a smile that said he understood more than he was letting on.

"Because I might be persuaded to dance for old times' sake," he added, his tone lighter than it should be for the sudden intimacy in the room.

Bucky stared at Steve for a moment, surprise clear in his eyes. It was like Steve had read his mind. But instead of backing down, Bucky's gaze turned just as determined.

"Yeah," he said, more sure of himself now. "I'm sure."

Steve chuckled at his friend's stubbornness. He pushed off the window sill and extended a hand to Bucky. "Alright, then, old buddy," he said, his voice warm. "Just try not to step on my toes."

Bucky took Steve's hand, and for a moment, they were just frozen like that, the two friends and war veterans, holding each other's hands like teenagers ready to dance. Despite everything they had endured, this moment felt oddly simple and comforting.

Steve gently pulled Bucky closer, guiding him to the empty part of the room. "Remember those old dances we used to do in our apartment?" he asked as he placed a hand on Bucky's waist.

Steve didn’t miss the slight hitch in Bucky’s breath or the way his body went rigid. He could feel the tension in Bucky’s muscles, the way his chest kept still under Steve’s hand.

Steve didn’t say anything, just waited for Bucky to relax into the dance. He began swaying slowly, his movements smooth and controlled, guiding Bucky into the rhythm.

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only Bucky to hear. “It’s just a dance, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know” whispered Bucky in response.

Steve could still feel the tension in Bucky’s body, but he could also feel him trying to relax. They continued dancing in silence for a few moments, letting the music fill the space between them.

“You know, it kind of makes me laugh,” Steve said, pulling back a bit to look into Bucky’s eyes. “Back then, you used to tell me I didn’t know how to dance. Didn’t have any rhythm you used to say.”

“You didn’t have any” Bucky smirked as he replied.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's blunt response. "Well, maybe not then," he admitted. "But I've learned a thing or two since then."

He gave Bucky a sly smile, his grip on Bucky's hips tightening just a bit. “I can at least manage a slow dance without stepping on my partner’s feet.”

“Partner” Bucky murmurs.

Steve chuckled, sensing the jest in Bucky's tone. "Yeah, partner," he said, his gaze holding Bucky's. "Is that such a funny thought to you?"

He continued the slow, steady rhythm of the dance, keeping Bucky close. The conversation was light, casual, but there was something under the surface that Steve couldn't ignore. The tension in the air felt palpable, and he knew Bucky felt it too.

Suddenly ‘One’ by Metallica starts playing ruining the moment.

Steve looked a bit taken aback as the slow song ended abruptly and a heavy metal track blared through the room, shattering the tranquility of the dance. He pulled back a bit from Bucky, turning his head slightly to look in the direction of the phone.

"What in the—" he murmured, looking back at Bucky with a puzzled expression.

Bucky chuckled at Steve's reaction his own amusement clear on his face. "Stark must have put that on my playlist," he said, reaching for his phone and turning down the volume just a bit.

Steve looked at Bucky with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. "You listen to this kind of music now?" he asked, still a bit bewildered by the sudden shift in sound.

“Sometimes” Bucky replied.

Steve chuckled at Bucky's response, his gaze raking over Bucky's body, noticing the way the other man visibly shivered at the sudden absence of his touch.

"You cold?" he asked, his voice gruff with a hint of amusement. He stepped a bit closer, his hands finding their way back to Bucky's waist.

“Stop.” Bucky suddenly.

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky's abrupt response, a slight frown line appearing on his forehead.

"Stop what?" he asked, his hands still resting on Bucky's hips, refusing to let go just yet.

“Don’t do this don’t hold me like that, don’t act like it the same as it was.” Bucky says frantically remembering how dancing before use to always lead to a kiss or something of the sort,and Steve clearly didn’t see Bucky in that way anymore so why go through the pain of false hope.

Steve's grip on Bucky's waist tightened slightly, his expression darkening a shade as he absorbed Bucky's words.

"What are you talking about, Buck...?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Act like what is the same as what was? I'm just dancing with a friend."

“Exactly, you are just dancing with your friend, so let go of me” Bucky says sharply.

The words stung a little, but Steve tried to keep his expression neutral. He held onto Bucky for a moment longer, as if debating with himself, before finally relenting and releasing his grip.

He took a step back, creating a small space between them. "Alright, fine," he said, his voice gruff, but there was a hint of hurt beneath it that he couldn’t completely hide. The distance between them felt cold and sudden, a stark contrast to the warmth and comfort that had been between them moments ago.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, his eyes avoiding Bucky’s for a moment, before he spoke. “You know, Bucky, sometimes I don’t understand you at all.”

Steve watched as Bucky grabbed his phone and started searching for another song. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, the easy camaraderie replaced by a certain tension, a distance that neither of them seemed to know how to bridge.

He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, and waited for the next song to start, his mind still trying to make sense of Bucky’s sudden shift in mood.

As Bucky put the phone down and the new song started playing, Steve listened to the music for a moment. It was a different track, softer than the one before, but there was something melancholic in its lyrics that felt fitting for the mood.

He looked back at Bucky, trying to ignore the pang in his chest at the thought that maybe Bucky was right, maybe it wasn’t the same anymore.

“So, you like this song?” he asked, the words coming out sounding more indifferent than he intended.

“Mhm” Bucky mumbed Steve could tell Bucky wasn't in a talkative mood. The answer had been curt, almost dismissive. It stung, but Steve tried his best to push the feeling aside.

He shifted against the wall, his gaze fixed on Bucky, the dim light from the window casting shadows on his face. “Can I ask you something?” he said after a moment.

“What”

Steve hesitated for a second, not sure if he should ask. But the question was burning in his mind, and he couldn’t hold it back.

“Are we... alright, Buck?" he asked, his voice soft, almost tentative. “Because sometimes I feel like you... like you’re slipping away, somewhere where I can’t reach you. And I... I don’t understand why.”

Steve’s eyes bore into Bucky’s, his gaze intense and earnest. “Do… do you even like having me around anymore?” he asked, his voice surprisingly soft, almost vulnerable.

Bucky was caught off guard by the question. Steve's voice was not its usual firm, confident self but tender and vulnerable in a way Bucky hadn’t heard in ages. He swallowed, feeling his throat constricting suddenly.

A thousand thoughts and feelings raced through his mind, memories of their shared past, the pain and suffering they had endured, the fights, the joy, the sorrow. It all came crashing back, and it suddenly felt like too much to bear.

He looked down, avoiding Steve’s eyes, his voice quiet when he spoke. “Of course I do.”

Steve's shoulders sagged in relief at Bucky’s response, his breath releasing in a shaky exhale, almost like he had been holding it for too long. He took a step closer, his hand almost automatically reaching out to touch Bucky’s arm, but he stopped himself midway.

His eyes searched Bucky’s face, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?” he asked, the question quiet, pleading.

Bucky could feel the sincerity in Steve's tone, the helplessness, desperation. It was like a punch in the gut.

He didn’t know how to answer that question, didn’t want to answer. Because the truth was... He wanted Steve close, always had, always would. But it was hard, so hard, to allow himself that vulnerability, especially because they had never discussed what they were now, they clearly wherent the same.

Bucky swallowed, running a hand through his hair, his voice low and hoarse. “It's just... complicated, Stevie.”

Steve felt his heart clench at Bucky’s words. “Complicated?” he repeated, his voice thick with barely contained emotion. “We fought side by side, Bucky. We’ve been through hell together. And you’re telling me it’s complicated?”

He stepped closer, his gaze fixated on Bucky’s face. “What is so complicated that you can’t even... even let me hold you when we dance?”

“No steve its not, we’re not”

Steve furrowed his brow, confusion and hurt clear in his eyes. “What do you mean, ‘we’re not’?” he asked, his voice low.

He took another step forward, standing just inches away from Bucky now. He could smell the familiar scent of Bucky’s shampoo, could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Buck, I... I miss you,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper. “I miss my best friend. Why can’t we just… be like we were?”

“Because we are so different now” Bucky replies.

Steve let out a shaky exhale, his eyes searching Bucky’s face, trying to find any trace of the man he used to know.

“We’ve changed, sure,” he said, his voice gruff. “I know I’m not the same guy you first met, and neither are you. But… But we’re still us, Buck.”

He took another tentative step forward, his hand twitching with the need to reach out to Bucky, to touch him, to bring him closer. “Aren’t we?”

“No” Bucky replies softly.

Steve’s heart wrenched at the bluntness of Bucky’s response.

“No?” he repeated, his voice hoarse, “How can you say that? After everything we’ve been through?"

His hands clenched into fists by his sides, the knuckles turning white with the effort to hold himself back. He wanted to yell, to shake Bucky, to make him understand. But he managed to keep his voice steady, even if it threatened to crack with every word.

Bucky took in a breath “We aren’t us anymore….you don’t, before when we danced. God - Steve you don’t even look at me the same”

Steve froze, his eyes widening as Bucky’s words sunk in. He could feel a lump forming in his throat, his heart clenching in his chest.

“What… what do you mean?” he managed to croak out, his voice weak. “Of… of course I look at you the same way. I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do this” Bucky pleaded

Steve could see the pain in Bucky’s eyes, hear the plea in his voice, and it broke his heart. But he couldn’t pretend like everything was fine, couldn’t act like he didn’t understand.

He closed the distance between them, so close now he could count the specks in Bucky’s eyes, could feel the heat of his breath on his skin.

“Buck…” he murmured, his voice a low, agonized rumble. “Why does it sound like you’re saying goodbye?”

“Steve” was all Bucky managed in response.

It was just one word, his name, but the way Bucky said it sent a chill down Steve’s spine.

He wanted to close his eyes, to look away, but he couldn’t. He was trapped, caught in Bucky’s gaze like in a whirlpool, spirally down into a dark unknown.

“Buck…” he tried again, his voice pleading this time, “Please… please don’t do this. Don’t push me away, not again.”

You dont love me anymore” Bucky said with a joyless smile.

Steve's heart plummeted at Bucky's words, shock and pain washing over him like a cold wave.

“What?” he breathed, the syllable barely loud enough to qualify as a word. “No, no, Buck, that’s not true. Of course I…”

He stopped mid-sentence, his words catching in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice again, the next words ripping like shards of glass from his mouth. “Why… why would you say that?”

“You know why. Steve you can’t look me in the eye half the time” Bucky replied,his voice breaking

Steve’s heart twisted in his chest, guilt and shame washing over him like a tidal wave. He knew it was true, but having Bucky call him out on it was like a blow to the gut.

He looked into Bucky’s eyes, seeing the pain and disappointment there.

“I…” he began, but the words got stuck in his throat. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes falling to the floor, unable to hold Bucky’s gaze.

Steve felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He wanted to tell Bucky how much he still loved him, wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to never let him go.

But he was frozen to the spot, the words caught in his throat, the guilt and fear and shame of everything that had happened, of everything he had lost weighing heavily on his shoulders.

"I…" he managed to force out, his voice strangled, "I never stopped loving you, Buck. Never. You know that, right?"

Bucky just looked back at him, pain etched into the lines on his face. “Do I?” he asked quietly. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

Steve felt his heart ache at Bucky’s words, the hurt in his voice like a knife stabbing into his chest. He wanted to explain, to tell him everything that was going on in his head, the fears and doubts that haunted him, but the words wouldn’t come.

Silent tears fall from Bucky cheek as he mumbles “sure as hell dont feel like ya love me.”

Steve felt like he was suffocating, his chest tight with pain and helplessness. He watched as the tears rolled down Bucky's face, unable to move, to speak, to stop any of this from happening.

“I do,” he finally managed to force out, his voice thick with emotion. “I do love you, Buck. I always have. I always will.”

The words felt hollow even to his own ears. He knew they weren't enough, but they were all he had. Steve reached out, his hand trembling slightly, and gently brushed away a tear from Bucky's cheek. His fingers lingered on Bucky's skin, feeling the warmth, the softness, his touch desperate and tender at once.

"Please, Buck," he whispered, the plea ripping from his throat, "Just... just don't give up on me. Don't give up on us."

The words hung heavy in the air, filling the small space between them. Steve's heart was racing, his breath shallow, as he waited for Bucky to respond. The silence was unbearable, the seconds stretching into eternities as he watched Bucky's face, searching for any flicker of hope.

Bucky's eyes were still on him, tears still glittering in the corners, his expression a mix of pain and indecision.

“Steve”

Steve swallowed again, his throat dry as sandpaper. He was hanging on by a thread, waiting, hoping, begging internally for Bucky to just say something, anything.

He reached out again, his fingers gently touching Bucky's chin, tilting his face up so he would look at him. "Please," he murmured, his voice ragged, "say something…"

“Tell me that you still love me.” Bucky pleas.

Steve felt a wave of raw emotion wash over him, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I do," he said, his voice firm now, strong, his eyes locking with Bucky's. "I do still love you, Buck. I'll always love you. You're my... my one constant. The best thing that's ever happened to me."

“Kay” Bucky responds.

Steve's brows furrowed slightly in confusion at Bucky's reply. It wasn't the response he had expected. It wasn't a rejection, but it didn't feel like a acceptance either.

He searched Bucky's face, trying to find a hint of what he was thinking or feeling, but his expression was guarded, unreadable. Steve took a step closer, his hand still resting on Bucky's chin, his eyes locked on Bucky's.

“Just ‘kay’?” he asked, a wry note of humor to his voice, masking his insecurity.

Bucky nodded, his gaze not wavering from Steve's. There was a silent tension in the air, an electric current passing between them. Steve's heart was pounding in his chest, his fingers still gently cupping Bucky's chin, his thumb gently caressing the stubble on his cheeks.

“So,” he said after a moment, his voice low, “that’s it, huh? ‘Kay’ is all I get after baring my soul to you?”

“Yeah.”

Steve felt his heart sink at Bucky's nonchalant response. After everything he had confessed, after baring his soul, this was all he got? Just a casual 'yeah'?

He let his hand drop from Bucky's chin, his fingers balling into a fist at his side. He took a step back, putting space between them, a flicker of hurt and anger in his eyes.

“That's it?” he repeated, his voice firmer now, the tone challenging, “That's all you have to say to me?”

“Steve?”

The single word, his name, hung in the air like a curse. Steve felt his frustration boil over, the whirlwind of emotions he had felt since Bucky first started talking to him now threatening to consume him entirely.

He took a step closer, his voice tight, his body tense. “Don't 'Steve' me,” he said, his hands clenched into fists by his sides. “Don't just ‘yeah’ me. I need more than that, Buck. I need... I need you to talk to me, damnit.”

Steve froze, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected that response, and for a moment he just stood there, staring at Bucky in disbelief.

"What?" he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You... you want me to... kiss you...?"

A million thoughts raced through his mind, a mixture of shock, hope, and trepidation. But before he could say anything else, his body seemed to act on its own, his hands reaching out to pull Bucky closer to him.

Their bodies collided, Steve's hands gripping Bucky's hips, pulling him flush against him. Bucky's hands found their place on Steve's shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of Steve's shirt, pulling him closer, closer, until there was no space left between them.

Steve's heart was hammering in his chest, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He looked into Bucky's eyes, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation, but all he saw was a mirrored desperation, a need that matched his own.

Steve leaned in, his lips hovering just above Bucky's, his breath mingling with Bucky's in the small space between them. He could feel the heat radiating off Bucky's body, could feel the racing of Bucky's heart against his own.

He lifted a trembling hand, gently brushing back a strand of Bucky's hair, his touch tender and reverent. And then, slowly, deliberately, he pressed his lips to Bucky's. The kiss was soft at first, gentle, almost tentative. Steve's lips moved against Bucky's slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid he might break, that this might all crumble away if he wasn't careful.

Bucky's hands gripped Steve's shoulders tightly, his fingers digging into the fabric of Steve's shirt, pulling him closer still. He parted his lips under Steve's, a soft, needy sound escaping him, the sound like a dam breaking.

Steve broke the kiss, pulling back just enough so he could look at Bucky, his eyes roaming over Bucky's face, taking in the sight of him, flushed, panting, his lips red and swollen. It was a sight that would be forever etched into his memory.

He leaned in, resting his forehead against Bucky's, his breath hot on Bucky's skin. "This is what you needed?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and ragged.

“I just need you to love me” Bucky whispers back. “ ya wanna dance”

Steve felt his lips twitch into a smile at Bucky's sudden change of topic. “Dance? You’re asking me to dance?” he teased lightly.

He moved, pulling Bucky so he was standing in the middle of the room, a fair distance from any furniture or other hazards.

“Sure,” he said, taking Bucky's hand in his. “I’d love to dance with you, Buck.”

[16woodsequ]

Sunday Steve - Day Eight

Things that would be new or unfamiliar to Steve in the 21st century, either due to the time period he grew up in, or his social-economic status and other such factors.

Day Eight: Shampoo and Conditioner

Shampoo: The origins of the word shampoo comes from an Indian hair and body massage called champooi/champo.

In the late 1800s and early 1900s shampoo was a water soluble, dry shampoo powder that would be dissolved by the teaspoon in a cup of hot water (Link). Shampoo could also come as bars of soap, which could lather or be grated and dissolved into boiling water and left to cool and solidify.

A 1908 New York Times shampoo guide claims "hair is best shampooed at night, following thorough combing and brushing, and singeing split ends. Castile soap is applied with a stiff brush and rinsed four times every month to six weeks." (Link)

Bathing had become more and more common as part of the hygiene routine in the early 1900s, but shampooing was generally recommended every two weeks—or every four to six weeks (preferably using castile soap or tar soap) because shampoo was known for drying out and damaging hair. (Link)

While at-home shampooing was slowly becoming more common, it was more common—for those who could afford it—to get it commercially done. Most shampoo ads were targeted towards women, but men in barbershops "transitioned from using hair tonics to using shampoos to remove the build-up of heavy styling products" (Link).

The liquid shampoo first really started hitting the market in 1927. So by the 30s at-home shampooing became even more common. This is due to a combination of most Americans have in-house plumbing, their own bathrooms, and the shampoo formulas becoming less harsh and drying. The combination of all this meant one could wash their hair every week. (Link) (Every day shampooing began to be marketed in the 70s since oily hairstyles were out of fashion.)

Liquid shampoos were sold in glass bottles, while powdered shampoos came in tins.

Bottles of shampoo and lotions manufactured in the early 20th century by the C.L. Hamilton Co. of Washington, D.C., United States

It wasn't until 1934 that detergent-based (no-soap, modern) shampoos came onto the market (Link).

Sarah Rogers likely wouldn't have been able to afford to get her hair shampooed, but she could have made her own shampoo from castile soap bars (example youtube video) or bought shampoo powders which were then dissolved in water.

She would only wash her hair every few weeks, most likely brushing her hair and keeping it up in styles in-between washes. (Link) Using a clean brush to brush ones hair helped remove and evenly distribute oils.

In 1933 shampoo cost about 25-50 cents. (Link) (Link) I haven't dug deep to know exactly what kind of things Steve and Sarah would be able to afford. But it wouldn't surprise me if there were times they could and couldn't afford hair care products.

As for if Steve would shampoo his hair, he probably just used soap. Shampoo had soap in it until 1933 (which was why it was so drying) (Link). But men could afford to use soap on their hair since they usually had shorter hair and their natural head oils could help mitigate the damage.

I can find less information about men's hair routines if they couldn't afford to go to barbershops, so I'm less certain of what Steve would do. But 20s, 30s, and 40s men's hair styles had a lot of oil or greasy styling products. While these would need to be washed out for re-styling (probably weekly like women) the oil products would help against drying out the hair.

Men also always wore hats. Having stiff or slick-down hair was important so that hair styles wouldn't be ruined by putting on and removing hats. Hair oils would stain hats, chairs and other things heads came in contact with.

Circa 1920 Glostora hair oil and brush ad and Hair Slik ad

Don't be fooled by the ad. This vintage bottle of Glostora is 5 inches or 12.5 cm tall. It would be put on after shampooing, like conditioner.

In the Captain America: The First Avenger movie we can see that Steve's hair isn't slicked back. This could just be a modern day styling choice, but it could also show that Steve did not care about styling his hair.

Cleanliness was was important so he probably washed his hair every few weeks with soap and bathed regularly. But it doesn't look like he put heavy product in his hair. (Unlike Bucky, who probably had more reason to shampoo his hair. It wouldn't surprise me if Bucky went to the barbershop when he could afford it.)

Steve probably couldn't afford to do more to his hair than wash it with soap every few weeks. He likely made his own shampoo with castile or tar soap. This method makes more shampoo than the bottles of liquid shampoo being sold.

Conditioner: Conditioners originated from a product called brilliantine (developed in 1900) which was used to soften beards and moustaches. This product would be put on after styling in barbershops to make the hair shine and soften it. (Glostora and Hair Slik are similar products.) (Link)

"It was oil based, giving off a slimy residue to anything it touched. Homemakers knit lace doilies to cover the backs of high back chairs and couches to protect the furniture from men’s greasy heads" (Link)

Other items used similar to conditioners were hair tonics, or Wildwood Cream.

Conditioner became a necessity because of shampoo, as it is drying to the hair. So it wasn't used much until shampooing became more common (oil has a long history of being used to tame hair, but commercial conditioner products became more common along with shampoo use.) (Link)

Women caught on to these types of commercial products. I've had a hard time finding specific conditioner products from the 30s. Here is a hair care routine for women circa 1930 that mentions brillientine, so it looks like women began using brillientine as well before more specific conditioning products were developed.

There seemed to be more conditioner products developed by the 40s. Here's a conditioning cream from around the 40s, and a different one with a price (about 39¢).

1942 Drene Shampoo Hair Conditioner Vintage Print Ad

(Drene was the first modern synthetic (no soap) shampoo and you can see in the side panel of this ad they say "Don't rob your hair of its glamour by using soap or liquid soap shampoo—which always leave behind a dulling film that dims the natural lustre and color brilliance!")

Wrap up

Modern day hair routines would be recognisable but still somewhat unfamiliar to Steve. This is partially because men's hairstyles have changed drastically from the slick-back styles he is used to. Hats have also gone out of style.

Also, it is common now in America to wash one's hair around three times a week. This shift came about with the change in hair styles. Woman leaving hair down and covering it less necessitates the need to shampoo and condition it more. (Women shampooed their hair once a week in salons up to the 60s).

The products are also slightly different. Liquid shampoo is the dominate form now (I doubt Steve ever bought liquid shampoo) and they come in plastic bottles. The liquid shampoo is likely a much different formula than he's used to. Additionally, conditioning is a very specific step in the process and hair product ingredients have evolved.

There are also combination products like 2-1 shampoo and conditioner which came about in the late 1980s.

Along with the cultural changes, Steve's socioeconomic status would effect his perception of hair-care routines and buying hair products.

With modern (no soap) products, Steve's hair is probably softer and shinier. Steve would have been aware of no soap products, but I don't think he would have bought them. However, he could have had these products used on him during his USO tour. Interacting with the women there probably introduced him to many products he was less familiar with.

Men's hairstyling in the 1920s.

This post kind of got away from me! But I hope you enjoyed my deep dive into 20th century hair care.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

moth to a flame

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, praise, body worship, eye contact, public sex act, dry humping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your friend invites you to a bonfire where you meet a man who knows you better than you think. plus! reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: this is my first of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Natasha is the coolest person you know. Probably the coolest person most people will ever meet; if they have the privilege. So it is that you wonder how she’s your friend. It’s really too good to be true which is why you can’t help but feel a bit enamoured by her. 

It has to be real though. If you’re not friends, she wouldn’t invite you to her annual bonfire. A sacred tradition for her, or so you’ve heard. A gathering of all her closest friends. They are truly elite company. Not just your everyday schmucks, but The Avengers. 

You’re sure you’ll seem a bit lame walking up with your basket of pumpkin muffins home-made cider. Still, you were taught to always bring something with you. Though it does provide an obstacle to getting to the front door smoothly. 

You carry the large glass jug of cider by the metal handle as you hug the basket to your side. You struggle you hit the lock button on your keys and stop short as the cider sloshes around dangerously and throws your balance. As you try to correct yourself, footsteps scuff up behind you. 

“Need help?” The deep voice is like silk. 

You look over your shoulder, nearly tipping over as you do. The stranger manages to scoop up the basket before you tip it and you giggle in embarrassment. You sigh and let him take it from you. 

Oh, he’s not a stranger. Well, you know his name, even if you don’t know him. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. One of Natasha’s many high-profile friends. Again, you ask yourself how you ended up there. 

“Oop, thanks so much,” you say. “I should’ve made two trips.” 

“No problem,” he assures you. “You a friend of Nat’s?” 

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, turning back up the walk as he keeps stride with you. “New friend, I guess.” 

“Friend is a friend. She only keeps me around because I made friends with a string bean back in 1930.” He chuckles. 

“You mean--” You stop yourself and look away. You don't want to come off as a fangirl that quick. “Uh, well, we met at an event. She was teaching self-defense for the woman’s shelter.” 

“Oh, you work there?” He asks. 

You keep your eyes off of him, “I lived there. Not anymore.” 

“Ah, well, that’s good? You’re in a better place?” He asks. 

You nod, “much better.” You swallow and exhale. “I know who you are. You’re Bucky Barnes.” 

“I’m never gonna get used to that,” he scoffs. “Takes the excitement out of meeting new people.” 

“Oh, sorry, I...” you trail off before your nerves can break through.  

You don’t think Natasha would ever have become your friend if she knew you were such a geek about her other friends. Cap and Iron Man and even Thor. They were the real-life heroes that inspired you to be your own. And it was a poster of Steve Rogers himself that sparked the last fight that led to you leaving your ex. 

“It’s fine, so, do I get a name? Unfortunately, I don’t have the whole mind-reading thing going on,” he knocks on the heavy door as you shift the jug in your grip. You give your name as you peek over at him sheepishly. “These smell...” he lifts the basket and takes a whiff, “delicious.” 

“I hope they are. My first time using my apartment stove. It’s gas. I’m used to electric,” you explain. “Uh, pumpkin muffins, if that’s what you were asking. Sorry, I...” you turn to the door and rub your lips together, “if I’m honest, I’m super nervous.” 

“Nervous?” He echoes. “About?” 

“Well, I’m not the greatest with crowds. Especially since the shelter... ugh, I don’t know why I keep bringing that up.” You cringe, “but uh, just... new people. I guess.” 

“Ah,” he nods and teeters on his treads, knocking again, “damn it, Nat, what the hell are ya doin?” He grumbles. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m not really a people person either. The arm... it’s quite the ice breaker.” He sniffs, “I hate talking about the goddamn thing.” 

“Um, yeah, that would be... awkward,” you utter. 

The door opens before he can respond. You’re glad for it. You hadn’t thought about it but now all you can think of is if his arm has a built-in can opener. 

“Oh, he-eyyyy,” Natasha stutters as her eyes flit between you and Bucky, “you’re here. Both of you. At the same time?” 

“Uhhh, yeah,” you peek at Bucky. 

“Ran into each other a few steps back. You’re shit at introducing people, Natty.” 

She rolls her eyes and waves him off. She turns to you. “Wow, and what’s all this?” 

“I brought cider and--” 

“Muffins,” Bucky finishes for you as he lifts the basket higher. “I’m not much of a baker.” 

“Or a guest,” she retorts. “That’s so amazing, thank you.” She reaches to take the basket, “come on, I’ll show you around. Bucky, I think you already know where the litter box is.” 

Bucky tuts and shakes his head, “nice seeing you too.” He follows you in and faces you, “try to enjoy yourself. I know she’s a bit of a party pooper. Even if she is the host.” 

“With guests like you, how can I not be,” Natasha trills and beckons you onward, “don’t worry about your shoes. We’ll most be outside so I’ll do a full sweep and mop tomorrow.” She turns and struts away. 

Your eyes creep down her hour glass figure. You feel like a pervert as you do but you can’t help it. Even in a flannel and jeans, her body is perfect. The cowl neck of your red sweater and your corduroy feels a little less cute. 

“You made these yourself?” She asks as she leads you into a large kitchen.

There’s a square island with a hardwood top and matching counters and cupboards; the tile is burgundy with black iron accents. You marvel as you compare it in your head to your boxy apartment with the peeling laminate and squeaky faucets. 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer as you lift the jug of cider onto the counter. “Apple cider and pumpkin muffins.” 

“You are too sweet. I have to admit, I got catering for tonight. I'm no good in a kitchen,” she chuckles. “Lived off of Hydra rations for so long, I can’t do much more than open a can or vacuum seal.” 

“Oh, right. Nothing fancy,” you shrug. “You know, I just found the recipes online. Got some apples from the farmers’ market... I don’t know if it’s any good.” 

“I’m sure it’s all delicious. Bet the cider would be great with some whiskey,” her voice is smokey as she smirks. “Wanna put that theory to the test?” 

“Um, if you want. I’m okay either way.” 

“I won’t blame you if you need some liquid courage before facing the rest. Work friends can be a bit much,” she chuckles. “Besides, I have a bottle that’s been sitting in my cabinet for too long.” 

“Sure,” you accept, not wanting to be rude. And she’s right. You need something to take the edge off. 

She hums as she leaves the muffins next to the jug and she spins to the cupboard. She takes out two glasses that resemble jars and a dark bottle of liquor. You watch her put it all together with ice and a cinnamon stick to boot. 

“May as well get some before the rest devour it,” she slides a glass toward you and lifts the other, “cheers.” 

You smile and clink her glass. You taste it and your cheeks pinch. The cider is good but you can definitely taste the whiskey. You hold back a cough and cover your mouth. 

“I am just rewarming the hors d’oevres but if you want to wait, I can introduce you to everyone.” 

Heat roils from the oven as it glows from within and there are trays waiting for serving. She’s already put so much in. You don’t want to make her day even more strenuous. After all, she didn’t have to invite you. 

“No, it’s... you’re busy but if you need help.” 

“Don’t be crazy. You’re a guest. Go, enjoy the party. I’ll be out shortly. Everything’s mostly out there already.” 

“Okay, but um, I can take the muffins at least.” 

“Alright,” she agrees. 

You grab the basket and go to the door. You pause as you realise you don’t know where you’re going. Natasha laughs again. 

“Other way, back door is right on the other side of me,” she sweeps around the kitchen swiftly. 

“Right,” you turn back and cross the tile; one arm around the basket, your other hand cradling your glass. You push outside with your shoulder and step out onto the deck.  

There’s a long table of snacks as promised. You go to it and put down the basket as you dare to glance up at the guests speckled around the yard. Pairs and trios stand in the grass and around the already crackling fire. They all seem to know each other and you recognise quite a few of them. 

“Buns?” The question has you lurching in surprise as you face another partygoer. 

“Oh, uh, no, muffins,” you lift the lid to show the contents. “Pumpkin.” 

“Oooh,” the blond grins. The golden hair, the square jaw, broad shoulders; how could you mistake Captain America? “Can I try?” 

“Of course. I brought them for everyone,” you smile and tightly clutch your glass of cider. “You’re... Captain America.” 

“Ha, well, not here. I prefer Steve,” he takes out a muffin and peels away the liner. “And you’re... one of Xavier’s recruits?” 

“Xavier? Who—no. I’m...” you introduce yourself as he sinks his teeth in to the muffin. Your stomach flips. What if it’s bad? “Natasha’s friend. Erm, I guess that’s what we all are but nope, I’m just me. Just a... civilian?” 

He laughs, “just a civilian? Damn good baker. I don’t go for pumpkin often but this is amazing.” 

“Really?” You beam and bounce on your toes. 

“Oh, yeah--” 

“Save some for the rest of us, punk,” Bucky comes up from behind Steve. “Just like him to be chatting up the cutest girl at the party. What line did he use?” 

“Line? I’m just having a muffin,” Steve grimaces. 

“Mm, muffins,” Bucky reaches in front of his friend to claim a treat of his own, “was waiting on these.” 

He eyes your glass of cider and you take a sip. You pull your lips off the brim and gulp, “oh, the rest is inside if you want some.” 

“She made that too,” Bucky points at your cup. “Who knew Natasha had cool friends?” 

You giggle, “no, I’m not... just muffins.” 

“Good muffins,” Bucky says through a mouthful, “mmm.” 

“Might be good to hide them,” Steve remarks as he gives Bucky the side eye. 

“Hey, these two meatheads giving you trouble?” Another figure approaches from the back door. You turn as Tony stark flips up his dark sunglasses. He sports a red velvet jacket with collar popped. 

Bucky’s lips thin and Steve shakes his head, “you’re late,” the latter rebukes. 

“It’s a party, capsicle. Chill. Wait, don’t do that. We might not see you for another seventy years.” 

Steve scowls and takes another bite of his muffin. Bucky picks at his own and looks away. You nervously glance between them all. 

“Tony Stark,” the new arrival offers his hand, “but you already know that, don’t you, sweetheart? So who are you?” 

“Charming,” Steve comments. 

“It’s called getting to the point, Rogers. Some of us aren’t gonna wait around until they’re in the nursing home.” 

Steve growls and Bucky nudges him. The blond nods and looks at you, “I’ll see ya around.” 

“Sure,” you accept. Bucky waves with two fingers and follows Steve’s retreat. You turn back to Tony and shake his hand as you recite your name. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Natasha didn’t say this was a meet-cute,” he winks. 

“Ummm,” you glance around nervously. 

“Teasing ya. You look lost. You want the low-down on the dweebs,” he flicks his index towards the grass. “Now, you see, that kid right there, that’s Parker. His alias is top secret. For his safety. He might blurt it out anyway. And that’s his buddy Miles,” he points at to younger guests. “Someone should really separate them. We don’t need a mess.” 

He snickers and puts his arm around you as he moves you toward the top step of the deck, “and there’s the mighty God of Thunder. We all know the puppy dog, and then there’s his stray cat of a brother. Trust me, I tried to have him ejected into space but apparently, they can survive that.”

He tuts. “And there’s Bruce, good guy. When he’s calms. And Brock. Real question mark, that guy. Maria, Coulson, Sam, Strange; the better Steve if you ask me. And Wanda, her husband; I made him, his name is Vision but I guess Victor is more ‘human’.” 

He runs his hand up your arm as he pulls you closer, “there’s Charles, he prefers Professor, and his group of ragtag individuals. I could tell you their names but I’m already bored. Oh, except that one, the angry one with the swoopy hair. That’s Logan. Leave him alone. He’s even worse than the bozo with the vibranium arm. 

“Now, T’Challa has more important things to do so we don’t got anyone else worth mentioning,” he drags his hand down your sleeve then lets go, “I’m sure you’ll be tired of all of us before the night’s done. I assure you, heroes save people, not the vibe.” 

He clicks his tongue and jumps off the top step. You watch him strut off and you stare after him. There’s a lot more people than you expected. Familiar but still strangers.  

The only good thing is there’s more than enough guests for you to fade into the background. You’re tempted to go back in and offer to help Natasha. You know better than that. She always sees right through you. She’ll know immediately that you’re just hiding from social interaction. 

🔥

The night wears on into darkness. The large pit burns brightly as voices buzz and shadows waver. You stand watching the lick of flames, unnoticed amid the furor. Or so you think. 

“Hey, there’s cider left,” Bucky appears at your side, his sleeve brushing yours. “Got you a top up.” 

“Oh, that’s... nice.” You accept the glass as he holds another for himself. “You didn’t have to.” 

“You look... lonely. I don’t know. Felt bad. You went to all that trouble and you’re wading through this sea of people you don’t know.” He shrugs. “Hate these things myself. I just came ‘cause Nat asked. Well, she tells. You know, you can’t say no to her.” 

“Ha, yeah,” you agree. She isn’t just strong-willed, she’s intimidating. 

“I usually end up just drifting around until everyone’s distracted, then I dip,” he explains. “Or find somewhere quiet.” He quiets to take a sip, “how about it? Everyone’s out here, there’s a sofa up on the deck.” Your teeth chatter as you try to taste the cider, “and A blanket.” 

“Mm, it said it wasn’t supposed to get cold,” you look down embarrassed. You finally get a mouthful. It’s sweeter than before. Maybe because there’s no whiskey. 

“Huh, well, you don’t gotta hang out with a boring old man like me. Just figured I’d offer,” he says. 

“Thanks, that’s nice.” 

“Well, I can be nice when I want to,” he raises his glass slightly and turns away. 

As he marches off, you watch his back. Your eyes wander around. No one else even notices you. They’re all so wrapped up in each other. Even Natasha’s barely stopped to chat. 

“Wait,” you call after Bucky, “I could sit down.” 

He stops and turns as you scurry after him. The fire light flickers and limns the sharp angles of his face. He waits until your right beside him to continue on. 

“So, you already know what I do for work. What about you?” He asks as you climb the steps in tandem. 

“I’m a cashier,” you answer. “I work at a pet store.” 

“Hm, I like animals,” he leads you to the sofa. You can see the glow of the fire but the voices aren’t so raucous from up there. 

“Yeah, we mostly just have birds and hamsters there. Nothing very big. It’s a small place,” you explain. “I... It’s a new job.” You keep yourself from mentioning that the shelter helped you find it. It’s not really what you want to do forever, but it’s something. 

“Still, that’s nice. You get to help people in your own way. Make sure they can spoil their pet,” he leans back as he balances his glass over one knee and you drink deeply from your own. “I got a cat. Demanding. A bit abusive.” He laughs then chokes on it. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.” 

You shake your head, “no, it’s not... really. I’m not upset.” 

“You sure?” He angles towards you. 

“Yeah, really. I can handle it,” you say. 

He nods and hums, “yeah, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse than words.” 

You’re silent as you look down at the cup. You take another sip. He clears his throat as he shifts in the seat. He reaches back to put slide his phone from the back of his jeans. He leans forward to place it on the table. 

“Ugh,” he sits back. “Better.” 

You smile, “well, you don’t just work, do you? When did you get your cat?” 

“Oh, she just made herself at home really. It wasn’t exactly a conscious or willing choice,” he laughs. You fold one arm around your middle and shiver again. “Ah, where’s that blanket--” 

He reaches to the back of the couch and pulls down the blanket. It hits his glass and he loses grip of both. He huffs as he soaks the flannel in cider. 

“Damn,” he stands and holds out the sopping blanket before it can drip onto him or the couch. “Just like me. Hold on. I’ll go get another blanket and clean this up.” 

He untangles the cup from the blanket and sidles past you. You sit back silently as he heads for the back door. You glance over and consider sneaking over to the table to pick at the leftovers. Instead, you huddle down against another evening breeze.  

You finish all but a mouthful of side and reach to place it on the wooden table. His phone lights up and draws your attention. You blink as your eyes instinctively find the screen. You get a glimpse of the wallpaper right before it goes dark again. Huh? 

You shake off what you think you saw and the phone lights up again. You lean over and sink your teeth around the gasp that threatens to spill out. That can’t be. 

You check over your shoulder before you reach for the phone. You tap the side button and gape at your own image staring back at you. There’s a chat bubble floating on the front screen; new messages. You tap and expand the preview. It’s from Nat; ‘you find her?’ 

Your stomach sinks and you nearly drop the phone. The door opens and you quickly set it back down and sit back. You cross your arm and stare out at the other guests. Nothing can happen as long as you don’t leave. 

He comes back and you flinch as he drapes a blanket over you. He drops down onto the couch as he pulls it snug around your front. He drags his grip down the edges before he lets go. “Better?” 

“Mhmm,” you agree and blink. Your eyes feel dry. You reach up to rub them. 

“Really good cider. You’ll have to send me the recipe,” he insists. 

“Sure,” you slur and try to shake it off. “I’ll find the link...” you swallow and cough. You don’t feel right. You need some space to think. “I need to use the bathroom, one sec.” 

You try to stand but don’t even get your ass off of the sofa before you slump over. Your head crashes into Bucky’s shoulder. He opens his arm around you and rubs your back. He hushes you as you babble. 

“You’re okay, baby,” he rubs your back, “I got you.” 

You try to make a noise but you can’t. You can’t whine or whimper or scream. You can just squeak as he pushes you back up so you fall back against the arm. 

“I measured...” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t pass out.” 

You gurgle and lift your arm. It takes so much effort that it drops down like a bag a sand. The cider...

He shifts and stands, moving your leg behind him before he lowers himself back down. His hand rests on your thigh. His thumb presses into your soft flesh. 

“God, you’re so beautiful, doll,” he traces up and down the seam of your pants. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He runs his finger along your pelvis, making a vee back and forth, “soft and... warm.” 

“B--B—B--” you stutter. 

“The moment I saw you, I knew you needed me,” he moves even closer, his hand crawling up your stomach. “Whoever chased you into that place, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve better.” 

He moves carefully, lifting himself and twisting onto his knees. His hand glides back along your thigh as he folds it around him. You twitch but can’t do more than that. He bends and holds himself over you. 

He curls an arm under your head and nuzzles you. Your eyes roll back as you hide behind your eyelids. This can’t be real. What is he doing? How can he have photos of you on his phone? And that text... did Natasha set this up? Why would she do that? She’s your friend. 

“Look at me,” he growls. His voice is scary. Your eyes snap open and you groan. The tip of his nose rolls around yours. “God, you’re beautiful. Doll, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He leans his pelvis against you as he presses down, “I’m going to keep you safe.” 

He tilts his hips until you feel his bulge against you. Your eyes round and you puff out a foggy breath. What is he doing? 

“Don’t look away,” he snarls as he slides his arm back and grips the back of your head. “Mmm, I just... I love the way you look at me. The way you feel beneath me.” He rasps as he rocks his hips steadily, “I can’t wait to have you on me, doll. To feel you on top of me. Around me. Mm, I wanna taste you so bad. 

“Mm, your chest,” he touches your tits, “your stomach, your hips,” his hand explores with his declaration and he hooks his hand under you, “your ass. All mine.” 

His coarse whispers tingle through you. What he says is nasty and wrong and yet it’s thrilling. Terrifying because you can do nothing to stop him. Defeating because all the people only feet away won’t either. 

[ironspidersblog]

Random person in the 1930’s: fuck Steve rogers 😠

Bucky: fuck Steve rogers 👀

Random person in the 2020’s: fuck sam Wilson😠

Bucky: fuck sam Wilson 👀

[whydoesthiskeepappening]

So we’ve all seen the stuff about if the PJO and Marvel universes took place in the world, and I got curious and I did some math. Hazel Levesque was born in December of 1928, and died when she was 13 in 1942. Bianca was born in 1930 and Nico was born in 1932, they’re biologically 12 and 10 when they get out of the Lotus Hotel where they would’ve only aged about a few weeks, meaning that they would’ve had to have been sent to the hotel in about 1942. And while it is interesting that the di Angelo’s were frozen in time the same year Hazel died, that’s not what this post is about. Because I looked it up, and Steve Roger’s became Captain America in 1943, meaning that if the Percy Jackson and Marvel universes were to coexist, Hazel Levesque and Bianca and Nico di Angelo would have no goddamn clue who the hell Captain America is despite all being from the same time period and I just think that there’s so much comedic potential there

[justiceiswater]

and then they live happily ever after and no one goes to war and they get married and have babies!! or i'll cry my eyes out!

headcanon for a pre-serum steve x reader? im not sure if you have written any 1940’s fics but I think you would be really good at it, considering you characterize them so well. ❤️❤️❤️

- Steve is so awkward and unsure around you- You’ve been casual friends for a while- Steve always liked you, especially after watching you turn down Bucky’s advances so many times- You were so immune and unimpressed with Bucky’s flirtations - His attempts practically became a bit. It was like Bucky liked being ripped apart and tormented by you- To Steve, it felt like you were the only dame who had Bucky wrapped around your finger - But that didn’t mean Steve had the confidence to make his own moves - He had seen you at the dance hall with your friends - Bucky had said hello to you before Steve had arrived- “Why don’t you go over there and ask her to dance, punk?” Bucky leaned down to mutter to his best friend. He was very aware of Steve’s infatuation with you - “I don’t want to bother her,” Steve grumbled. “And I can’t dance.”- Bucky rolled his eyes, “I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind teaching ya.” - But Steve can’t be convinced - You were so beautiful and kind and could probably get any guy you wanted - What could Steve offer?- Later in the night, he saw you leaving alone - But Steve jolted into action when he also saw two questionable men elbow each other and stalk after you- Bucky followed, yelling after him in confusion- Steve cursed as he struggled to catch up. You should know better than to walk home alone at this time of night - They get to the men just as they try to grab at you- They’d whistled and tried to get your attention - When you ignored them, they got aggressive and physical- “Hey! Get away from her!” Steve yelled out. He got there before Bucky - They immediately laughed at Steve. - “Oh, is this your girl?” one of them said. “You’re half her size,” the other one mocked - “Let her go!” Steve warned them, hating that one of them still had a rough grip on your upper arm - It immediately turned into a fistfight. Thank god Bucky was there. Otherwise, Steve would’ve been in serious trouble.- After the fools ran away, you helped him off the ground. Your heart broke when you saw his split lip, bloody nose, and his already forming black eye - “You okay?” He asked you softly. The fire from before was now completely gone- “You’re bleeding all over the place, picking fights for me and you’re asking if I’m alright?!” You asked, utterly flabberghasted - “They shouldn’t have harassed you like that…” Steve mumbled. - You take him back to your apartment to fix him up. Bucky refused your aid, seeing it as a perfect opportunity for Steve to make a move - “Christ, Steve, this looks awful.” You said with concerned eyes as you cleaned his cuts, brought him ice, and stopped his nosebleed- “I’m alright, Y/N. Really. I’ve had much worse.” - “Oh, I know you have. Your foolish self has been picking fights since you could raise your fists.” You sighed. “I just wish you didn’t do it on my account.” - “I disagree,” Steve said with more confidence than you had ever heard from him. “There is nothing worth getting in a fight for more than you.” - You smirked. “And here I thought you didn’t even like me.”- “Didn’t like you?!” Steve scoffed, utterly confused. “I’m in love with you!” He blurted out without even thinking. He blamed it on a possible head injury- You’re shocked, but play it off well. “Well… why didn’t you say so, Steven Rogers?”- “You’re too good for me, doll. Didn’t want that embarrassment.”- You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, and you’re so damn sure the feelings aren’t reciprocated?- You wish you could’ve got a picture of Steve’s expression when he figured out what you were trying to say - “The only reason I stuck around that annoying best friend of yours was in hopes that you’d finally ask me out on a date.” You clarified further - Steve finally picked his jaw up from the floor. “Y/N… W-Would you like to - to - ”- “Yes,” You interrupted. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Steve.”- Steve is awkward in the most endearing way - But his good intentions make up for it all - The more dates you go on and the more you spend time together, the surer of himself he gets - Steve is the kindest and sweetest gentleman you’ve ever met- He walks you home every night, even if you don’t have a date. He’ll patiently wait for you to get off work to make sure you get home safe- He’ll drape his jacket over your shoulder whenever you look cold. - Neither of you have a lot of money, so dates are simple (a walk through the park, going to Coney Island)- But Steve always takes you to a diner for special occasions - He gives you his drawings as a gift. But you blush when he tries to give you drawings of yourself - You teach Steve how to dance - He actually gets real good (even with the height difference) - But Steve’s still insecure about how sickly and little he is. But you quickly remedy that, telling him all the things that you love about him- Steve never loses his overprotective temper. That first fight was definitely not the last - Steve could ignore men’s comments about him. But as soon as you became the subject, he lost all self-control - “Why am I always patching you up Steven Grant Rogers?” You’d sigh. - “I’m sorry, doll. I can’t let them think they can talk about you like that and get away with it.”- You take care of him when he gets real sick- Bucky feels less and less needed by Steve the longer the two of you date- It’s both sad and a relief for Bucky - “You deserve a real man, Y/N. Someone who’s strong and healthy and can take care of you.” Steve would say when his health was in danger - “What’s this real man you speak of? Sounds like an urban legend,” You teased. “You know, Steve… there are more ways to be strong man than to have muscles and towering height. No man’s ever looked at me the way you do. No man has ever taken care of me like you do. So screw your ‘real’ man.” - “I’m never going to find another dame like you, am I?” Steve finally answered. - “I sure hope not.”

[heterosexualomegaverse]

Personal top favorite fics on ao3 of all time

- living's just a waste of death by author tothendoftheline

Best Political Animals fanfic out there. I consider it the canon ending. I think all my longest comments ever I posted on ao3 were on this fic. It's a mostly canon compliant detailed exploration of what TJ's life would actually be like. How his (childhood) trauma effected him. His time as a white house kid, his sexuality, his addictions. It starts pre-canon and goes on long after canon has ended. TJ starts working on himself, his relationships with his family change, he gets new friends (kinda). Idk if I'm selling it well but I love it so much.

- Known Associates by author Thingswithwings

Fic that made me ship Steve and Rhodey lol. Though Steve calls him Jim. Was rereading it yesterday and damn its so good. an (I think) realistic depiction of queer life in the 1930's and 1940's then the movie plot happens and Steve is in 2012 and now has to figure out what/ who he is in this century. Also got a plot about kinda being experimented on and turned into super soldiers.

- The Barnes Files by author PaintedDoe

Bucky Barnes' therapy sessions in transcript format. (can you tell I love character studies)

- Flawed Perfection by author Squiggles13

Also part of a series but I haven't read the other parts yet. This one also mostly starts as Bucky going to therapy but then the tfatws plot happens but changed to be way better.

- Teach Me by author stucktogether

Steve/Bucky college au. Steve things he's straight but can't seem to keep his eyes off of Bucky. It's isn't until they've fooled around a half dozen times or so that he things he may just be bisexual. This Bucky's also got some deep lore.

- Treading water by author sparkagrace

SteveBucky olympic swimmers au where they were childhood friends that got separated at 12 but reunited at the olympics, except Bucky's presence brings back a lot of feelings that Steve can't deal with. This one gets real angsty. It has a sequel that is even more angsty.

- (A series) 'Til the End of the Line by author ohstars

SteveBucky with marvel canon except what if they were gay. Until endgame where shit is changed a lot cuz you know the time-travel staying in the past obviously doesn't happen. It does go on after that. They finally come out to the team (cuz they were closeted to whole time with Sam being the only one who knows) They have kids together, get married and then there is some time travel shenanigans and a lot of stuff until they both die of old age.

- The Island Man by author Amber_Skye

What if Steve Rogers was never found in the ice and got rescued by shield, but instead got out himself, but still only in 2012? And no one believes he is actually Steve Rogers Captain America? He ends up homeless doubting his own mind. Maybe he really isn't Steve Rogers? Maybe he really is crazy

anyway idk why I wrote this. I just wanted to list some of my faves. didn't really put a lot of thought into this, it's late and I'm tired.

[16woodsequ]

Sunday Steve - Day Twelve

Things that would be new or unfamiliar to Steve in the 21st century, either due to the time period he grew up in, or his social-economic status and other such factors.

Day Twelve: Soap

One day I was looking at a bottle of dishsoap and I wondered, would Steve have used this? So I looked it up. Liquid soap was patented in 1865 but "despite its popularity throughout the early to middle 1900’s, it wasn’t until 1980 that liquid soap became mass-produced for domestic use." (Link)

From what I've found liquid soap was not that commonly used. There were liquid shampoos in the 20s but many people used shampoo powder or liquified grated soap bars.

It's the same for other soap. Laundry soap and dishsoap came in powders and soap bars. Below you can see a box of soap flakes shown to be used for both laundry and dishes.

Soap flakes sold for 10 cents circa 1929

Here are some more laundry soap options we covered in the laundry post.

Laundry soap options in 1927. They included purchasing flakes, chips, or powder; liquifying your soap ahead of time(right); and (left) grating your own laundry soap from a bar. Fels Naptha soap, which came in a big bar, was rubbed on difficult stains and rings around the collar. (Link)

Liquidizing the soap entails taking soap shavings and dissolving it into boiling water. The liquid would then be poured into laundry water to be used. If left over night the soap re-solidifies.

For dishes another option besides powders or flakes is a soap shaker. This blog discusses early 20th century dishwashing, showing things like soap shakers and dish scrapers. Looks like one could use a soap shaker to more easily get suds from a bar of soap.

Modern soap shaker reproduction (Link).

But what about public bathrooms?

Most public bathrooms nowadays use liquid soap, and if liquid soap wasn't so common, what did they use?

It's possible some bathrooms used bars of soap it's not very easy to find information about that online. What I can find that is soap dispensers that dispensed powdered soap!

There's this one that had a crank to push the soap forward to an opening. Another type of seemed to have a lever/button press to dispense soap. Some styles shave off soap bars inside the canister as well.

I've never experienced these types of dispensers but looking online a lot of people seem to remember them growing up.

1940s era bathroom experienced in the 70s:

They were very simple -- white plaster walls with a wooden partition painted dark green, a painted concrete floor, and a plain white wall-mounted toilet. The sinks had cold water only, and over each sink was mounted a metal Boraxo dispenser -- Boraxo was a dry, gritty, powdered soap, and the dispenser was a sort of mechanical sifter with a lever that hung down below. You'd bang on the lever and a small amount of the powder would sift out. The towel dispensers gave out rough folded-red-paper towels

Circa 1936 powdered soap dispenser with crank handle. Note is says "pure dry cake soap ground into powder as you use it without any waste". So this dispenser seems to ground soap cakes (bars) into powder itself.

The video below is an example of push button powdered soap dispenser. Some dispensers have labels suggested to wet the hand first before using the soap. (37 sec video).

I have also seen people talk about soap leaves being available in women's bathrooms. The soap leaf booklets could also be carried around in a purse and used by the owner at their convenience.

You can see in this accessory pack that at least some soldiers were provided with soap leaf packets to use during World War Two.

In conclusion

It is unlikely Steve would be used to using liquid soap. From what I could find liquid soap, and especially the liquid hand soap dispensers, were not popular until the 80s (this seems to be partially because of the difficulty of developing a pump soap dispenser for liquid soap, so that would also be new for him.) I think the prevalence of liquid soap would surprise him as soap is so basic you don't really expect it to change but basically the whole experience of soap has changed for him.

Also, fun fact! Soap operas are called that because when they rose to popularity in the 20-30s they were regularly sponsored by soap companies!

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Steve Rogers, supersoldier and inept historian, confronts the absence of evidence.

Author: wobblyheadeddollcaper

[robertdowneyjjr]

@stonylovessteve 2024 // soulmates au for @tinystark616

All his life, Steve has dreamed of a gorgeous brown-eyed brunet genius who’s too smart for everyone around him. Everything points to these being soulmate dreams, but that doesn’t make any damn sense when it seems like Tony’s in some far off future and Steve is just trying to get through a life of illness and poverty in 1930’s Brooklyn.

Against all odds, they meet anyway.

post-catfa canon divergence, pining, getting together; word count: 5.9k

happy birthday steve rogers!

[bowieandqueen11]

Steve Rogers SFW Alphabet, A-M

Request: Oooh can I also request a SFW headcanon A-M with Steve Rogers pls?

Of course my lovely, here you go! <3 If anyone would like the second half do let me know!

(I do not own Captain America or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @askthesuperhusbands. SFW Alphabet template credit goes to @keylimedie.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

HUGS!! SO. MANY. HUGS. Steve has lost a lot in his life: his parents, his best friend, and even his own time and prior life, so he grips onto you at every opportunity he can get for two main reasons. One: to close his eyes, dip his head into your neck and breathe in your scent, reminding himself that you're real. He hasn't lost you, and neither are you some kind of ethereal dream, or a HYDRA cruel illusion. Secondly: he's afraid that if his strong arms aren't around your waist, tucking you into his pecs until your palms are resting gingerly against them, that somehow the universe will find a way to take away the one thing he cares about most in the world.

He's definitely a kissy man as well. Not huge, PDA, sweeping you off your feet kind of kisses, because he has some of that residue nervousness from before the serum, when he was just an overlooked kid trying his best to fight for a scrap of any prestige. His kisses are far sweeter: he often leans down before he has to leave the Avengers Tower for a mission, a shy smile shining from his radiant face as he slowly pecks your lips. He's embarrassed when he's found out for it, but sometimes he adds an extra little nose rub against your own before he fully pulls away.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Steve Rogers is both the best and absolute best friend to have. I mean, like Bucky, the three of you all became friends in the 1930's, when you run over to help Buck fend off a bunch of bullies from a very irritated looking Steve. When you had given Steve your hand to pull him back onto his feet, at first he seemed to be holding his fingers to his side and wincing at the way his ribs hurt with each tug. When he finally looked up, though, and saw you... man, he still gives you that star-struck, mouth agape stare now as he did back then.

Although you have to spend half your time running down alleyways with Buck, trying to find Steve and stop him from bloodying up his nose too bad, and then a quarter of your time on top of that trying to drag the surprisingly headstrong man back into bed after his asthma attacks, the remaining time spent with Steve is incredible. A lot of time is spent out in diners, Steve pretending he isn't blushing on the stool next to you as you slide your milkshake across the counter and trying to get him to share your straw. Or, you persuade him to try the dance halls: at first he's terrified, his hand shaking on your waist and ducking his head down against your chest as his second left foot stamps against your own. Eventually, the ongoers and swing band whirls past like sparks of fireworks as you and Steve come to an agreement: he'll stand on your feet and grip tightly onto your hand as you trot the two of you about. He's laughing so much against your chin, that soon his fingers are clenched so tightly against your palm that he feels like they're burning once he shakes them out.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man is the ultimate cuddler. It comes from multiple, cold, New York nights, where he and Buck could barely afford the rent, and had to spend the night curled up together under his mother's old, mildew stained couch cushions. He knows how to tuck up into a person, which is why it's so sweet that often times in bed he'll try to tuck himself up to your front, curling up like a hedgehog despite his larger stature now. If your arms get tired from holding itself over and around his bicep though, he immediately can tell, and immediately feels really bad. He's getting a lot more accustomed to being the big spoon, feeling a sense of pride at the exhale of pure peace you give when you feel his knees knock up behind your own. Once his hard chin bumps against the top of your head, and you can feel his fluttering heartbeat rest right against your spine, you're able to fall into the most deep, peaceful sleep you've had in a long time.

D = Darling  (Pet names)

'Doll' is definitely his go to, mainly out of habit. Sam tried to trick him a couple of times into trying to call you some really cheesy nicknames from like the 90s like 'my boo', but he still sometimes calls you it to tease you after he saw how hard you laughed at his stuttering pronunciation. Bless his heart.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Since you're literally the love of Steve's life - his soulmate, it would take something insurmountable to make Steve break up with you. Even being apart for missions makes his whole body feel like it was going to collapse in on itself. He was that twenty three year old again, ducking back from enemy fire and taking a respite to pull the crinkled photograph of you out of his pocket. He'd carried it with him, even tucked into his suit when he fell into the ice, and something about rubbing his thumb over the curve of your smiling, black and white cheek manages to stifle the ferocious burn of yearning that smoulders in his stomach.

Therefore, if he were to break up with you, he would only do it if he had no other choice. Perhaps he had to leave, go incognito, was sent out on a mission he knew he wouldn't come back from. He knows you. He knows you can take care of yourself. You know that you could bounce back from this. But if you were in danger because of him... if he lost you, because of his selfishness to keep you by his side at all times, he would never be able to forgive himself. He's spent a lot of nights crying silently in bed at the thought, but he knows deep down it's the right thing to do if the situation arises.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh my god, Steve wanted to marry you from the first moment his eyes glanced over your ethereal form. It started to get on Bucky's nerves, how often he would state it; when they were waiting by the railings at Cony Island for you to get to the top of the cotton candy queue, Steve had his hands stuck into his pockets, tenderly stroking at the fringes of his suspenders, as he put all his energy into smiling over at you. 'I'm going to marry Y/n one day, ya know?' Buck would just shake his head and slap Steve's back, but even he couldn't fault how perfect the two of you were for each other.

Or when the three of you were curled up underneath Steve's battered sofa cushions, a scratchy blanket the only thing keeping you warm as you huddled on the icy floor one unsympathetic New York night. You were tight as a bug in the middle, Buck's legs pulled up against your back, and Steve curled up facing you on your left. When he thought you were asleep, you felt the blanket rustle a little before the feel of his slight pointer finger suddenly graced the curve of your jaw: it was quick and slight, like the wings of a dragonfly dancing over the ripples of a pond so deep and enticing, that they can't help but want to drown. 'I swear, I'm going to marry you someday. You'll the only person I'll ever love, Y/n', he whispered into the dim cracked light flooding through the slants of the apartment's blinds, wistfully sighing at the lack of reply. You were too shell shocked to move, willing your eyes to remain shut when he carefully reached forwards and pressed the full extent of his shaking palm against the open side of your face.

Yeah, let's just say that when he proposes in Avengers Tower, you're not nearly as surprised as he is when you say yes. The two of you are weeping and grinning an equal amount as he grabs onto your waist and spins you in his arms, though.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

This man is incredibly soft. He's always there for you emotionally always. He seems to have a sixth sense for whenever something is off with you, and before you can even groan in frustration he's intertwined your fingers and is dragging you into one of the empty rooms in the Tower. He doesn't want to scare you, or make you feel as if you have to talk to him though, so he sits at the board room table next to you and just... places your hands on his knees. That's it. He just massages the edges of your fingers, and looks at you with that look: that knowing, one eyebrow raised look, as if he's saying 'I know you. I know you better than I know myself. And I'll wait forever, do whatever, to make sure you're alright again.' The look of sheer love in the bottle blue depths is enough to make your bottom lip wobble, and it doesn't take long for your frustrations with Tony to come spilling out.

Although he's super gentle, he does immediately get... not angry, but annoyed? He's the sort of guy that wants to sort out the situation for you, no matter what it is or how dangerous. It's like when it comes to you, something switches in his brain. His face falls into a stern line, the muscle in his jaw twitching, and you have to desperately pull him back by the bicep to stop him going out and getting himself hurt.

He's super gentle physically as well, but it's all the more evident when the two of you are out on a mission and he hasn't heard from you over the walkie talkie for a while. His heart hammers a million miles per minute as he runs through the navel base, peering like a man possessed down each corridor, and throwing desks out of the way as he hunts for you. When you finally bump into him on Deck 3, confused as to why he was so worried as you had only lost radio contact around fifteen minutes ago, you barely have time to register the look of pure fear on his face before he's wrapped you in his arms. It's as if he's holding onto a baby bird, the way his hands tremble as they spread over your lower back and tuck you against his chin. You have to reassure him you're alright, and pretend for his sake that you don't feel the wet splash of lone tears he was unable to hold back on the top of your head.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

As I said under the last point, bro does Steve give good hugs dear lordie lord. Have you seen this man??

Before the serum, Steve wasn't much of a huggy guy, mainly because he was too embarrassed about his feelings to show them so evidently and implicitly. You might have got the old half-shoulder press when you left him back at this door after a day spent out at the park, but that would have been about it.

Post serum Steve cannot keep his hands off you. Although I don't feel like he's one for massive amounts of PDA in front of the other Avengers, mainly because he's fed up of getting teased all the time by Tony for it, it's much more recurrent in private. He hugs you every morning in bed: before you've even managed to blink your eyes fully open, Steve's shuffled under the covers and over towards your back. His lips are puffed: warm and languid as they slide kisses down the back of your shoulder blade, his arm strong and tight as it winds around your waist. 'Good morning', he murmurs as his bottom lip wipes delicately over the back of your neck, smiling to himself as you groan and shove yourself back against his touch.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Steve's told you he loves you a lot, but mainly when he thinks you're asleep or otherwise are too preoccupied to hear him. He's whispered it to you during sleepovers since you were both seven years old: he's murmured it to the breeze when you jump up from picnics in Central Park and wave him off, running back home before your mother realises you've been gone so long. He states it plainly into the night, when he's restless and alone in his apartment, with only his chipping ceiling keeping his pining mind company.

The first time he told you properly, though, was right before he fell into the ice. It was the last thing, as far as you thought, that he had ever said to you. He had promised to take you dancing again, now that he didn't have two left feet, and that he would meet you at six o'clock next week in your favourite spot by old Mrs McGee's Diner on 10th street. Before the radio had fizzled out into the deafening sound of silence, the words he had stated, so candid and forthright, as if they were the truest words in the world, had stabbed your heart with each whirring crackle. 'I love you, Y/n. I always have. I always will. I'm sorry I couldn't give you more.'

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

I do have to say, poor Stevey does get jealous. In the back of his head, when he sees you talking and laughing during group hangouts with Thor, he reverts back to that skinny version of himself, who spent all day every day watching Bucky introduce new guys to you. He can't help the way that same overwhelming feeling of jealousy bubbles up from his gut and moves his limbs before he even realises, but he's quick to come stand by your side.

He's polite though, adding quips and bits to the conversation, but making it obvious to the both of you that he's there to just survey the scene. To calm down his nerves, even though he trusts you wholeheartedly. His eyes will keep flicking down to your eyes, then your nose, then your lips, and although he'll try to keep some self restraint and stop his arm from reaching out to latch on to you, if you're talking to someone he doesn't know he's less likely to be able to control himself.

Be ready to be lifted up and shoved up against the elevator wall before it's even completely closed on the Gala. Steve's shoved your thighs apart and hefted them up in the air so he can stand between your legs, his lips bruising as he kisses the side of your mouth, his hands simultaneously reaching up to undo the buttons of your dress shirt. He can't help it. He needs to show you how much he adores you.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

They range from soft and sweet to hot and heavy. They're more, let's say polite in public. Say the two of you wander into the Avenger's kitchens at the same time, and as an act of fondness he'll reach for the coffee tin past your side while also leaning his head down to peck your lips. Just sweet little reminders through the day that he loves you.

Some are more languid and wistful though. When the two of you discovered that the Winter Soldier was really Bucky?? Steve was nearly inconsolable, despite how strong a façade he tried to put up for Natasha. The kisses that night are far more fervent, as you walk into Sam's spare bedroom to find Steve hasn't even taken his jacket off yet. He's just sitting on the edge of the mattress, a ten yard stare straight down at the floor as he clenches and wrangles his hands together. You have to come between his legs carefully, trying your best not to disturb him too much, before cupping his cheeks between your hands. You press soft little kisses around the tip of his nose, his eyes falling shut heavily, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It surprises you to find that he's the one to part his reddened lips, still raw from crying, and grabs a hold onto your bottom lip.

He loves to kiss the corner of your mouth, mainly because 1) he's spent pretty much every day of his childhood staring at your lips and daydreaming about the way they'd feel against yours, but 2) he still feels to shy, as if he doesn't deserve to actually be able to kiss you.

As for himself, he loves it when you kiss his forehead. It was a little idiosyncrasy the two of you had - when you were younger, the first time Steve had gotten beaten up, you had smuggled him back into your house and plopped him down on your father's favourite arm chair, right by the living room window. He was awestruck as you ran into the kitchen, amazed at the way you had absolutely no fear as you stole a bottle of your parents Vodka, and gathered some gauze from underneath the kitchen sink. He had been too stock still, too nervous to move as you tried to tidy up the cuts around his eyebrow as best as you could, but he had made this embarrassing little squeak when you had leant down to kiss the top of your forehead once you were finished.

Because you found it so sweet, how bashfully he had pulled his woollen jumper over his eyes and tried to bury himself down into the cushion, absolutely mortified, you did it again. And again. Until it was a little check in between the two of you: a kiss on the forehead to let each other know you were alright. It makes him feel safe, and still makes his heart thunder in his chest the way it did the first time.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I feel like Steve probably wouldn't be too keen to have children, mainly because of how dangerous and uncertain your lifestyles are. He's a pretty good uncle though! When Cassie was younger, and Scott had been invited round to the Avengers Tower by Tony to get the low down on him, you had opened the door to the main area to find Steve had joined in on their little tour. He had plopped Cassie on his shoulders, and was more than happy to spend the day telling her about all the goings on with the Avengers, and listening to her gossip about what her friends had been up to in school.

He's kind, and gentle around children, but doesn't particularly want them himself. Some part of him still worries that he'll pass on all the childhood illnesses he had, and he doesn't want to put another human being through the pain of that.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings usually go two ways.

As I said before, he cuddles up against your back and leaves soft hickeys against your back until J.A.R.V.I.S. politely asks the two of you to stop,

He drags you out of bed at the crack of dawn and makes you go for runs with Sam. He loves having that time to be able to catch up with his friend, but also finds it too much fun turning the early workout into a competition with you. If the two of you aren't shoving into each other, playfully pushing each other with your arms in your attempt to get back to the Washington Monument first, than all can be heard is your joint giggles as you team up to do laps around Sam and annoy the heck out of him.

Either way, his perfect morning always involves you.