Tag: ca:tws

laporcupina:

By his body’s clock, there’s been less than five years from the beginning until now, from knit top to body armor, from showgirl to warrior of legend, from Steve Rogers (aka Captain America) to Captain America (aka Steve Rogers). He’s barely past thirty, which nobody seems to realize or remember. It’s just as well because sometimes he feels all of the ninety-six years the calendar gives him. Never more so than when he looks at the photos and rare scraps of video from before, when he can see how much the transition has cost him and how much of it he paid even before Bucky fell. He never meant for war to become his life, let alone the only thing he understood. And yet it has.

doctorenterprise:

Yeah okay we hear a lot about Bucky stumbling along the road to recovery with Steve’s steady helping hand, but what about when he’s in a place where he’s okay? When he’s got enough of himself back that he can get by on his own? That’s when I like to think about Steve absolutely breaking down because if Bucky doesn’t need him anymore, what reason is there for him to stay? And that’s when Bucky realizes that Steve is maybe not as consistently impervious to self-doubt as he always seemed. In fact, this whole situation seems very familiar to him, so he wraps an arm around Steve’s neck and pulls him in close for a warm, reassuring hug. Just like they did in the old days when Steve was sick and Bucky was scared and they were both hungry as hell. He presses his face into Steve’s neck and murmurs, “you know, punk, I’ve been where you are. Maybe I can get by on my own now, but it sure as hell doesn’t mean I want to.” And Steve realizes that Bucky doesn’t need him, but he’ll always want him – and, somehow, that’s even better.

linzeestyle:

mishasminions:

FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT STEVE TRIED TO TRIGGER BUCKY’S MEMORIES BY WEARING HIS LESS DURABLE RETRO!UNIFORM (aka the not-so-bulletproof outfit he wore the last time Bucky saw him) AND BY QUOTING SOMETHING BUCKY SAID TO HIM 70-SOMETHING YEARS AGO

Okay okay but can we just talk about this?  The entire movie Steve’s worth is defined by what Captain America has become.  He goes to the Smithsonian to see Captain America’s life projected back at him — the boy he was before a footnote, the sickly waif who wasn’t good enough until the army (literally) made him A Man — while he’s there he walks around unrecognized; the entire gag at the mall is based on the idea that this is a 6’2” hulking muscled mass of a guy who absolutely no one recognizes unless he has that star on his chest, because it’s the suit, not the person, who’s been given worth.  And when Steve thinks about the most memorable thing about himself — when he thinks about how to get Bucky back — he goes for that.  He goes for Captain America.  And it doesn’t work; Bucky doesn’t react at all.  Because Bucky always saw through that.  He didn’t give a shit about Captain America.  That “little guy from Brooklyn,” that’s the kid he loved, that’s the one he was following when he died, the one who’s scared voice knocked the memories out of him earlier in the movie.  And it’s only when Steve drops the shield, and the helmet — all of the things that make him Captain America, that make him immediately recognizable to the rest of the country, to the world — when he calls on this one, rogue memory from when they were just kids, from before he was the national ideal of manhood he’s been made out to be since his death…  That’s when Bucky sees him.  Because Bucky doesn’t remember, or care about Captain America: Captain America is just a target.  But Steve Rogers, that little kid from Brooklyn?  Is under him, and dying, and scared…and the impulse to protect is so much stronger than anything else that’s been done to Bucky since then.