#WinifredBarnes

[whatwxsright]

@winifred-barnes ;; starter call

        Steve sighed and took the ice that was being handed to him, putting it gingerly against his fat lip. “I uh...” he shook his head once, keeping his gaze pointedly fixed on a spot on his trousers. “’m sorry about this, Mrs. Barnes... can you uh... can we not tell Buck about this? Please?”

[tw-soldier-blog]

@chugaspook - ✍ for a memory of their mother

James had been fast asleep when he heard the sound of his mother yelling downstairs. He sat up and started wide eyed at the small ray of yellow light from the crack in the door, debating on whether or not he should investigate. His attention was drawn away from the commotion when he felt the bed shift beside him a and a small whimper break the silence of the room. If Rebecca woke up he knew that'd be the end of his and his mother's night of sleep. His little sister was still little, but no baby like Lucy, yet she knew how to wail like one almost every night when she got tired. Bucky held his breath and stared down at the mop of brown hair until she stilled and her breathing went back to normal. 

 Slowly, and on the softest feet he could manage, James slipped out of bed, past the crib where the youngest Barnes' child slept, and towards the bedroom door where the yelling only got louder.

 "How can you be so cruel?! I have three children in here! One of them is only three months old! Where do you expect us to go?! Do you not have a heart?!" Winifred Barnes was not a woman to keep quiet about any situation she didn't agree with. Especially ones that involved her babies well being and the, scrawny middle aged man standing at their door was getting the brute of her wrath.

 "Sob stories do not pay your rent, miss." He huffed at the mother as he adjusted the glasses hanging low on his nose, "You're two weeks past due. Now either you pay for it in full by tomorrow evening or you're out of here."

 "I don't have it! That's what I've been trying to tell you!" 

 "Then I suggest you make arrangements." With that statement, the man bid the angered brunette a good night and turned to step off of their doorstep. 

 Winifred slammed the door behind him and pressed her back to it, sinking to the floor as tears rolled down her cheeks. 

 Bucky felt his heart start beating hard in his chest at the sight of his mother's tears. He had seen the scrawny man with glasses come by before but never this late. And never had he seen his mother cry. He was going to take their home away and this time James didn't have the confidence in her or his father to fix it like they always did.

 "M-mama?" Daring the risk of being scolded, the little boy stepped out of his hiding place in the shadows of the hallway and into the warm light of the living room. Winifred let out a gasp and instantly began scrubbing at her cheeks to hide the tears from her son, "Oh, James. You should be sleeping, it's late." Bucky stared down at his feet, a pout on his lip as he waited to be scolded and sent back to bed, "You woke me up..." He mumbled. Winifred swallowed hard and allowed herself to soften at the sight of her eldest. "Come here, baby." She cooed softly and James instantly obeyed. 

 Crawling in his mother's lap, the little boy rested his head on her shoulder as he felt her arms wrap around him and a kiss being pressed to the top of his head. As comforting as it was and as rare the opportunity to have his mother's full attention, James still couldn't shake the worry that made his little stomach fill with butterflies.

 "Mama, are we poor?" Winifred tensed and had to bite down on her lip to keep her tears from falling again. A beat of silence past between the pair before the mother took a deep breath and answered. "No. We are not poor, James." She assured him, "We have one another and that is all we need right now." 

 "But where are we gonna live?" He asked carefully. 

 "Well. You just let me and daddy take care of that, okay?" She softly prayed that her smart and curious boy would just accept the things he was telling her and not question as much as he usually does.

 "Oh, okay. We're not gonna sleep outside are we? Becca screams when I take her outside 'cause of all the bugs." James made a face at the thought of his sister throwing a tantrum over something so small compared to her. Winifred couldn't help but laugh at her son's worries in this situation he had stumbled upon. "No, baby, as long as I'm here you're not going to sleep outside. I promise."

 Pressing a quick kiss to the curls atop his head, Winifred gently patted his back as she began to stand. "Come on now, bed time was an hour ago for you young man. You want to be well rested for when your father comes home don't you?" James instantly perked up at that. A bright smile spreading across his face as he eagerly nodded up at her and began scrambling up the stairs.

 Winifred tucked her son in extra tight that night. She fluffed his pillow and made sure he and his sister were both under their blanket. She kissed his cheeks and tussled his hair as she bid him good night. She made extra sure that her children were warm, and safe, and content where they were. Because for the first time in a long time, she was unsure of where they'd be sleeping the next night. She was unsure of whether George would return with a job or with pockets just as empty as they were when he left. She was unsure about many things, but the one thing she was sure of was this;

 Her children would not be sleeping outside with the bugs.

[identitymend-archive-blog]

@winifred-barnes continued from (x) 

bucky knows it was a STUPID thing to do, getting into fights that is. he can’t help it though, both him and steve are little fighters when it comes to bullies - but then again..bucky would do anything to protect steve. if that meant getting a couple of bruised up faces and cut lips? he didn’t give a damn. 

bucky can’t help but roll his eyes at his mother, he knows she’s only trying to help but unless something was done the fighting would only continue. that kiss on his forehead is welcomed though and buck leans into it slightly. 

                       “ fine ma... i’ll try and KEEP OUT of it.. “

[reventum]

@winifred-barnes

December 12th, 1963 Brooklyn, New York

    ON THE 22ND, three shots had rung out over Dealey Plaza. The first shot was fired from the Texas School Book Depository by loyal Hydra agent Lee Harvey Oswald - it missed, bouncing off the curb, but it was a distraction shot. The second and third shots hit home, a simple double-tap through the upper back followed by one that hit the President on the rear right of the skull. But they weren’t fired by Oswald, nor the mythical gunman on the grassy knoll.  On the 23rd, the shooter met with Hydra agent Jack Ruby to hand him a weapon and orders to dispose of Oswald before he could stand trial. The man couldn’t be trusted to keep secrets and needed to be removed before he could let the truth slip. And as a man who was already slowly dying from cancer, Ruby had volunteered to take the hit. It was simple and clean. Oswald was removed from the picture on the 24th and the mission completed.

                         On the 25th, the Soldier failed to rendezvous for extraction. 

     There was something about America that pulled at him, that caused a fracture within previously consistent programming that stopped him from meeting his handlers at the extraction point. He had wandered, aimlessly, lost in Dallas for two days before he saw the billboard poster for a Broadway show in New York. He’d stood and stared at the words New York for so long he was addressed by an old, silver-haired woman that asked him if he was interested in seeing the play. He answered her in Russian and walked off. Later that day, he stole a motorcycle which got him to Little Rock, Arkansas. From there, he simply stole enough money to buy a one-way bus ticket to New York.

     It was snowing in the city by the time the bus (third transfer after Harrisonberg) pulled in to the depot, and by the time the Soldier had reached Brooklyn, the daytime temperature rarely reached above freezing. The roads were clear, the sidewalks piled with dirty grey snow, the people all bundled up in thick coats. He had stolen an old leather jacket off the back seat of a car that the owner had left to idle, not because he felt the cold but because it hid the gleaming metal of his arm better than the jacket his handlers had given him for the Kennedy mission. Despite the long hair tucked into his collar and general unkempt appearance, he never drew any attention from the borough residents as he picked his way down roads that were both unfamiliar and yet sparked the feeling he’d been there before. 

     The woman that greeted him at the front door of the flophouse in what seemed to be the poorest part of Brooklyn had asked no questions and he had said very little. He was used to close quarters and only used the bunks for what little sleep he needed. During the day he wandered, which was what he was doing on a friged, snowy day when he’d ended up stood on the sidewalk opposite a small grocery store that he somehow recognised. It wasn’t the same, the sign was different and there were more cars outside but there were so many things about it that set off a series of firecrackers in his head to the point of a headache. He hung back, rather than crossing and going in, leaning against the wall of an alleyway across the road, merely watching the people come and go while he tried, mostly in vain, to work out how he could know such a place.

[redstvrarchive-blog]

@winifred-barnes​

BI BI BI.

QUIETLY KILLS HIS MOTHER OVER HIS SEXUALITY.

BUCKY IS NOT SORRY.

[pilotproctor-blog]

@winifred-barnes

“It’s pleasure to meet you Mrs. Barnes. I’m a friend of Becky’s, I’m Matt Proctor.” 

[honorablebarnes-blog]

winifred-barnes said: HOW FUCKING DARE YOU

marred-saudade said: what the fuck meg

[marred-saudade-archived]

[wasbucky]

winifred-barnes​ 

“Ma’, before you say anything, you should know that it was Rebecca.”

[honorablebarnes-archive-blog]

[thecaptainsmother]

♬

Send me a ♬ for my muse to sing without knowing that your muse is listening.

Sarah held the newborn in her arms, she was covering a shift for another nurse who normally worked in the maternity ward of the hospital. This little one was having trouble sleeping, which reminded of her own son, who was growing up so fast. It was moments like this that she wished she she could have another child, but she knew that Steven would be her only and that would always be enough for her. 

She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t even realized that someone else had come into the room. Sarah sung to the small infant hoping that the soft sound of her singing would help lull the little one to sleep. She sang the first song that came to the top of her head. 

“They're writing songs of love, but not for me,      A lucky star's above, but not for me,             With love to lead the way,                     I found more clouds of grey,                           Than any Russian play could guarantee.“

[assetiisms-blog]

winifred-barnes replied to your post “// Bet if I left no one would even care…or even if I said I was...”

+clings to the precious son+

// -clings- BUCKY NEEDS HIS MAMA.

[marred-saudade-archived]

Aww Ma and dad are being cute.

[honorablebarnes-blog]

your wifey for the url thing!

✖ ASK MEME: Accepting

[marred-saudade-archived]

No. Becky’s already enough sibling for me. 

[marred-saudade-archived]

squints at @winifred-barnes